Read Online Kentucky Showdown by J. R. Roberts - Free Book Online Page A

anything happens to my horse, I won’t hesitate, I’ll just blow your head off. You got that?”
    Flores tried his best to nod and breathe at the same time, his eyes wide with fear. Clint released him, let him fall to the floor.
    Clint took Eclipse’s bridle and walked him out of the barn. Outside he mounted up and rode off.
    * * *
    Clint rode through the gate of Fontaine’s place and followed the roads to the front of the house. He dismounted, dropped Eclipse’s reins to the ground, knowing the big gelding would not move unless he had to.
    He climbed the steps to the porch, then turned to look around. There was not a man in sight. He turned and knocked on the front door. A tall man wearing a white shirt, gray vest, and gray pants opened it. He was about sixty, with a shock of white hair and matching eyebrows.
    â€œCan I help you?”
    â€œI’d like to see Mr. Fontaine.”
    â€œCan I say who is calling?”
    â€œClint Adams.”
    â€œAnd what’s this about?”
    Clint hesitated, then said, “Tell him it’s about money.”
    â€œWait here.”
    * * *
    Fontaine looked up as his man, Henry Gage, entered his office.
    â€œWell?”
    â€œHe’s here,” Gage said. “The Gunsmith.”
    â€œDid he scare you?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œYou look scared, Gage.”
    â€œWell, what do you want?” Gage asked. “He’s the goddamned Gunsmith.”
    â€œWhat did he say he wanted?”
    â€œTo talk to you.”
    â€œAbout what?”
    â€œMoney.”
    Fontaine laughed.
    â€œThat’s smart,” Fontaine said. “Okay, show him in, Gage.”

TWENTY-THREE
    Gage showed Clint into Peter Fontaine’s office. The walls were lined with books. The man himself sat behind a huge cherrywood desk. He appeared to be in his late forties, and even at home behind his own desk, he was wearing an expensive suit and tie. Or was he expecting company?
    â€œMr. Adams,” he said, standing. “Have a seat.”
    â€œWere you expecting me?” Clint asked.
    â€œNot at all,” Fontaine said, “but I’ve heard of you, of course.”
    Clint shook Fontaine’s proffered hand and sat down.
    â€œCan I offer you a drink?”
    â€œToo early,” Clint said.
    â€œCoffee?”
    â€œNo, thanks.”
    â€œWell then . . .” Fontaine sat back down. “Perhaps you’d like to tell me what I can do for you?”
    â€œI’m wondering what your interest is in a horse called Whirlwind.”
    â€œWhirlwind? I hear he’s a prime candidate for the Derby. For a local horse, I mean.”
    â€œDo you think he can win?”
    â€œI’m sure I don’t know,” Fontaine said. “Not at this point. There are a couple of good horses coming in from out of town.”
    â€œYes, I’ve heard of them,” I said. “But you had a man watching Whirlwind work out yesterday.”
    â€œDid I?”
    â€œI tracked him from the Canby place to here,” Clint said. “You’re not going to deny he came here, are you?”
    Fontaine seemed to consider the question for a moment, then shrugged and said, “No, why should I deny it? The fact is, I had someone watching all three of the horses.”
    â€œEasy Going and Sunday Song?”
    â€œYes,” Fontaine said. “I feel these are the three with the best chance to win.”
    â€œHave you decided where to place your bet yet?”
    â€œNot yet,” he said. “We still have a couple of days, however.”
    â€œYes, we do.”
    â€œBut you didn’t come here just to find out what I thought of the horse, did you?” Fontaine said. “Perhaps you thought I had a man watching you?”
    â€œThat possibility had crossed my mind.”
    â€œI suppose that’s not surprising, considering your reputation. But I can assure you, I have no interest in the Gunsmith.