Saltwater in the Bluegrass (22 page)

Within minutes of arriving on the fourth floor with the tour group, Texi was able to step away without being seen. The hostess was trying so fervently to remember her lines, pointing this way and that and giving her memorized quotes, she never saw Texi turn the corner and leave the group.

Across town I found myself thinking, “This is ludicrous,” all the while trying not to make a bad situation worse. I caught my head nodding forward in pursuit of slumber while I listened to the afternoon baseball game between the Reds and the Dodgers, as I waited for something to happen.

Make that anything.

I was starting to hope Kristina would just appear on the front porch, wave over in my direction, and say, “Hey, Jimmy, I’m here. Come and get me.”

That did not happen.

Kristina was definitely inside Sally’s condo. I was sure of it. It was about time to get her outside, time to get her someplace where I could talk with her. This ended up happening sooner than I had expected. At about five fifteen, when I was just about to lose hope, Kristina opened the front door with a scarf on and walked down the steps. She was planning to leave before anyone saw her. I was not going to let that happen.

I started up my car, threw it into drive, stepped on the gas, and stopped right behind the Porsche she was trying to start. I had her blocked in. Kristina wasn’t going anywhere. I jumped out, held the door closed, and gave her my look.

Just then Sally came out the front door. “Do I need to call the cops?” she yelled.

“No, no thank you,” Kristina said.

Sally stopped.

“This is my cousin, Jimmy Chase, from Florida.”

“Oh really,” Sally said, like she was expecting it.

“Yeah,” Kristina said. She put her head down and turned off the engine. “What are you doing here in Kentucky anyway?”

“Two guesses: your dad getting killed and you running out like a scared jackrabbit. That’s what. What’s the big idea?” I asked.

“Let’s go inside and I’ll tell you all about it.” Kristina got out of the car, looked around, and then together we walked back up the stairs and into the condo.

“Sally, I would like you to meet my cousin Jimmy. He lives in Florida. He’s a private investigator.”

“You sure are a long way from home handsome,” Sally remarked.

“Yeah,” I said. “Kristy—Kristina—whatever you call yourself, we need to talk about Uncle Buddy, your dad, my uncle. Why was someone trying to kill you and ended up taking him by mistake?”

The moment took me back to the talk I had prepared on my way back over to Uncle Buddy’s house after I left the funeral home, when I hurried back to talk with Kristina but I found the house empty and her gone.

“I want answers now. Who are these people that are after you?”

In the spring, two years back,
Milford had called Lamar. This was back just before Cost Me Plenty had come on the scene. Milford asked Lamar to go to the Keeneland Sales with him, just as they had done in years past. Milford assured Lamar that it was not with the intent of purchasing yearlings or to pressure him back into the racing business. It was just a chance for two old friends to spend the day together, to have some drinks, and to get out of the house. It was still two months before Sam and Dan Darby gave Lamar the yearling that would eventually be known as Cost Me Plenty.

Sally Cartwright and Kristina Stringer had arrived in Lexington the night before. They were each primed and ready for a takeover, merging themselves with some rich man and his capital reserve by way of seduction, sex, and possibly marriage.

Kristina had done her homework. She knew what she wanted and she wanted Lamar Ingram.

She was well versed in the art of seizing the moment. She knew her gifts. She knew she was endowed with pleasure and firmness that men wanted, and she knew she was more than capable of landing the grand prize if she used them.

Kristina spotted Lamar early in the day. She recognized him from photos she had seen in local newspapers. She watched him as he walk around the stables with Milford. It was only a matter of time before she was going to implement her charms.

The attraction was purely
physical and the moment spontaneous. The timing was inconceivably convenient for Kristina and Sally, especially for the two lost souls on the hunt.

Infatuation was likely. Passion was almost definite. Planned encounter was absolute.

The desired results were based in epic proportion on the right moment. Kristina’s job was simply. She would supply the energy. She would bring the insight and the excitement. Then if Lamar added a dose of loneliness, the deal would be sealed. Bonding would simply fall into place, and blindness of love would be the main ingredient stirring the pot.

Lamar Ingram and Kristina Stringer were soon to be one. The only difference being that Lamar was playing the game for the first time since his wife Beverly had died, and Kristina was playing the game like a seasoned veteran. She was established in the concept, well versed in the rules, and confident in her strategy and moves. It was Lamar’s salvation. At the time Lamar did not care. He was not thinking past the moment. He was not thinking about the consequences or where this encounter might lead. He was lost, lured in by the mesmerizing clenches, deep within the greenish-blue eyes of Kristina Stringer, and the romantic hold she had was far beyond his control.

Lamar had turned nonchalantly around from the bar not knowing Kristina was there and had accidentally spilled part of his drink, a splash of his Wild Turkey, on her dress.

She was conveniently standing close behind him, waiting for a chance encounter such as this. Lamar had simply been waiting for the yearling sale to begin, and Kristina had simply been waiting for Lamar.

Lamar was a wealthy, handsome businessman with all the glory of success. He was aged by work and demands. He was exhausted by the loss of his wife some fourteen months earlier. Every breath he had taken over the past year had somehow taken its toll, especially on his heart. The need for comfort and companionship was there, waiting for the right someone with looks and charm to come along. Lamar was ripe for the picking.

Kristina was making the rounds. She was a beautiful, healthy, unbridled-looking doll. She was slender, long legged, and perky with desire.

He was not looking for love but feeling new instead of blue is just about everything when it has been way too long, and Kristina seemed overly interested.

Kristina was not hiding her love. She had planned on setting the hook in someone, and as long as Lamar was taking the bait, she was going to continue to pursue him.

Two hours passed.
Kristina and Lamar eventually made their way past the mundane chatter of first impressions and babble, the shits and giggles of newfound intrigue, to a lengthy in-depth conversation of life.

Then it became the contemplation of thoughts and the anticipation of getting laid. They were both moving closer and closer, from the preliminaries of politeness to all-out lovemaking, the feelings associated with adult-sized puppy love and lost sensibility. Before the crystal blue skies of the afternoon fell over the rolling hills of Kentucky farmland, Lamar and Kristina found themselves in Lexington in a downtown bed and breakfast with room service. Two consensual adults, within hours of meeting, had made their way from the arousing abilities of young thoroughbreds displaying talents on the auction block to until death do us part. Maid service would become an art form and clean linens a necessity.

In Lamar’s mind, he had found the void missing in his life. The loneliness he had felt all these months had now been erased. He felt young, alive, and pleasure with his new companionship. Soon Lamar would bring Kristina home as Mrs. Ingram.

“You’re a damn fool, Lamar,” Katherine said, as she tried to talk sense into her brother for what he was about to do. “Can’t you see what this little floozy is doing, what she wants?”

Katherine quickly realized what Kristina was up to. Kristina had found the void missing in her life and had used Lamar to get it. It was money.

As for Lamar, he had been married once before. He had known love and was well versed in the characteristics of marriage and the lives of two people becoming joined as one. In his years together with Beverly, he had not only experienced the joyous feelings of happiness, but he also understood the depths of echoed despair. Lamar had gone from sharing time with the woman he saw as the only true love of his life to suddenly facing the pain and sadness of being alone. His plans had always been to grow old, to spend the twilight years of his life with Beverly.

It had been almost a year and a half since his beloved wife had passed away. Lamar, like so many other men, could not handle the thought of living alone any longer. The quiet silence that haunted his daily pattern was more than he could bear.

Beverly Tobler and Lamar Ingram
had met by way of association. Lamar had been resigned to studies, to a weekend of cramming at the Boston Public Law Library. He had walked up to her, asking for some help in finding a transcript of a particular docket he was looking for.

Harvard Business Law had finally paid off with benefits and accolades, something subsequently left out of the campus brochures. Beverly was working at the library on weekends to help subsidize the financial burdens of her own schooling.

After graduation, her plans had been to return to Virginia and practice law in patents, copyrights, and publications at McKinsey Publishing House in Sterling. Lamar quickly made different arrangements for Beverly’s future.

She had, without knowing it, just stolen his heart and pretty much his breath. He tried to introduce himself as someone suave, sophisticated, and polished, a gentlemen, but it didn’t work. Instead, he choked on his gum and nearly passed out in front of her. Beverly immediately knew they were meant for each other.

Within a few weeks of dating, Lamar made it clear that Beverly was the only girl who had ever made him nervous. Lamar could not think of living without her any longer. He explained to her that if she did not marry him, he would live the rest of his life in utter normalcy, and in his mind that would be way too boring and mundane. Over the next two months they visited the parents on both sides. They met relatives and decided when and where they would be married. Then they agreed where they would live after college and when they would start a family of their own. Lamar Jr. was born in the late fall of the following year.

Happiness around the home would be short lived. In February of 2004 Beverly was suddenly killed. She had been returning along I-64

after spending the morning at the Louisville Speed Museum of Fine Arts. Beverly had been volunteering with other influential wives in town to help bring the value, importance, and the appreciation of the arts to the middle school children of the area. Her car had suddenly slid off the road, catching the curb and rolling several times before hitting an embankment.

She was pronounced dead at the scene. Lamar had been out of town at the time. He was devastated, passionately refusing to accept what had happened. Over time, in his inability to function, he came to the realization that he had to move on with his life, and once again he found direction and purpose in his work.

Lamar Baxter Ingram
had
been a distinguished gentleman in the Bluegrass State for many years. The honor of Kentucky Colonial had been bestowed upon him a few years back. It had come while he was lieutenant governor of the state.

Lamar had influenced many people in the area. The entire town was in deep gratitude to him and his legacy. He had brought new jobs and respect to the now-thriving metropolis of Louisville. The town was continuing to grow. He had shown leadership throughout his life. He had been an authority in the forefront of many new expansion projects. Through his talents, he had helped revitalize the downtown areas and had helped push the riverfront stadium project towards completion.

It was only fitting that when Lamar died, he be sent off with an honorary procession. It was something the locals felt necessary, the politicians felt obligated to do to pay last respects to this great man for his dedication to his hometown.

Cave Hill Cemetery would be his final resting place. It was a timehonored tradition laying-to-rest some of the greatest Kentuckians here. The cemetery had served as home to many fallen heroes and leaders of this state for many years. It was a landmark in the area. The governor was the ceremonial host for the funeral proceedings, and Pastor Kimball Sheldon Green of the River Road Antioch Baptist Church led the sermon. Several local men’s groups sang songs requested by Lamar Jr. and the family.

Outside the church, the Louisville Police Department honored the former lieutenant governor with a twenty-one gun salute. Then they continued the ceremony by draping the casket with the flag that had waved half mast outside the church during the ceremony proceedings. Inside the church, the sanctuary was filled to capacity with family members, friends, and associates all paying their last respects. The media was made to stand out in the hallway. They were banned from taking pictures or filming while the actual service took place. Katherine played the grieving sister, making sure that she was portrayed as a hurt, broken sibling to the reporters. As she and the Ingram family walked out of the church, friends continued giving their condolences.

Katherine, in turn, gave her “Thank you for coming” with a show of sincerity and genuine earnest. As she exited, Katherine stopped and turned to the cameras.

“My little brother is now in a better place,” she said. “He was such a good brother and friend, and I will do everything I can to see that he is remembered in our thoughts and prayers each and every day,” she continued without batting and eye.

Then she turned and retreated to her limousine in silence. The procession from the church to the cemetery was ninety-seven vehicles long and tied up traffic all afternoon along Lexington Road, Frankfort Avenue, and Grinstead Drive.

The afternoon was somber.

By nightfall, however, most of the people who had gone to the ceremony had already forgotten what they had come for. Life began returning to normal. Most people had returned to their own personal lives, their own personal problems, and their own reasons for digging up bones.