STUDS AND STILETTOS (Romantic Mystery) (25 page)

“It looks deserted,” Emily said. But she lingered, hesitant to step into the open.

“It’s beautiful,” Judith whispered. “I love French windows. But I think something moved above the balcony. Who sleeps there?”

“I did for a couple nights, but it’s probably empty now. The wranglers have trailers.”

“We better wait a minute,” Judith said. “Make sure it’s empty and then go in.”

Emily scanned her friend’s face. For a committed rule follower, Judith was being an excellent sport. “It doesn’t matter to me if we’re caught,” Emily said slowly. “Dan says I’m through here. But you might be given more background work. There’s no sense blowing it over an empty apartment.”

“It’s okay,” Judith said. “It would be worth getting kicked out just to see the place.”

“Really?” Emily asked. “It’s not that special.”

A door slammed and they both flinched.

Moments later, a man strode from the barn. Emily relaxed when she recognized Thomas Hamilton. “It’s just your buddy,” she said to Judith. “He won’t care. Heck, he probably doesn’t even know who feeds these horses.”

“He’s not my buddy,” Judith said. She grabbed Emily’s arm. “Let’s wait. See what he does.”

Emily shrugged. The only people she cared to avoid were Lizzie and Dan. However, they waited until Mr. Hamilton disappeared around the corner of the barn. A car door sounded from the parking lot. Seconds later, a sleek black car purred down the drive.

Emily stepped out from the shadowed trees, rather impatient with the delay. She hoped Barney’s breathing was okay; he really should be outside. Hopefully he’d remember her but now that she wasn’t feeding him, he might not care.

The white of Barney’s blaze flashed from the aisle. His friendly whinny cut the air.

Emily grinned. “That’s Barney. He loves people.”

She rushed into the barn. Barney stretched his neck over the stall door, eager to greet them. His nostrils weren’t flared and his respiration seemed normal. “I probably shouldn’t go in his stall,” Emily said, scratching the base of his ear, “but I want to pick them both some grass.”

But Judith had already wandered down the aisle. “Is this the door to the upstairs apartment?” she asked over her shoulder.

“Yes, but there’s nothing up there. Look at this.” Emily waved the halter. “Barney can do tricks.”

Judith fingered the knob of the door, obviously more interested in the apartment than equine tricks. “I want to go upstairs and take a picture of the infamous love shack,” she said. “I wonder what Hamilton was doing here. If only the walls could talk.”

Emily rehung the halter, rather relieved the walls couldn’t speak. She’d barely been able to swallow her soup when Dan touched her in the apartment, and her intense physical response was embarrassing. More so now, since it had obviously been one-sided.

She gave Barney a pat and reluctantly followed Judith up the apartment stairs. “We shouldn’t stay long. They might plan on putting another wrangler up here.”

“I just need a couple minutes,” Judith said. “But I’d like to see the place.” Her steps quickened until she was climbing the stairs two at a time.

Emily followed more reluctantly, not wanting to dwell on the last time she’d slept here, back when she’d woken in Dan’s arms. It had been a lovely interlude, but that’s all it had been. And brooding didn’t help.

“There’s nothing here.” Judith jerked to a stop at the top of the steps, her voice almost accusatory.

“There never was,” Emily said. “But those flowers are new.” She pointed at the vase of pastel pink roses by the French doors.

“Hamilton must have left them,” Judith said.

“Yes, but how wasteful. They’re only going to die.” Emily had always considered cut flowers a colossal waste of money. And wild flowers were much prettier.

“This was the anniversary of Tracey’s disappearance,” Judith said. “Do you think he feels guilty?” She walked across the room and examined the flowers. “There’s no card.”

Emily remained rooted at the top of the staircase. This apartment had always felt occupied. Unsettled. She rubbed her arms, trying to ward off the chill.

Judith’s suspicious gaze scanned the room. “Maybe Hamilton was so in love, he didn’t want her to leave. He might have lost his temper and killed her. That would explain a lot.” She disappeared into the bedroom, like a hound on a scent.

Emily’s imagination raced, spurred by Judith’s words. Billy was almost paranoid about closing the gate. Maybe he and Mr. Hamilton had kept that poor groom prisoner here. And then one day she got away… Or hadn’t. Maybe Billy knew something important.

Judith reappeared, her face dejected. “Like you said, there’s nothing in the bedroom. It’s like she vanished into thin air.”

Emily tightened her arms over her chest, hating the direction of her thoughts. But Billy had called her ‘Tracey’ once. And he was anal about following Hamilton’s orders. “Maybe we should talk to Billy,” she said slowly. “About the groom.”

“Excellent idea,” Judith said.

Emily held her nose, blocking the nauseating smell. She flipped the toilet seat back down and retreated into Billy’s narrow hall, weaving around dirty clothes, magazines and a squashed box of mismatched nails.

“This isn’t right,” she whispered to Judith. “Nobody should live like this.”

“I know.” Judith’s gaze shifted to Billy who sat in a wooden chair and stared morosely out the window. “He’s not the most likeable man though. I’ve been stacking garbage for hours, but he refuses to let me take it outside.”

“He’s still annoyed I came without doughnuts. I should have gone to the dining room first.”

“We were in a hurry,” Judith said. “But clearly he doesn’t remember a groom from twenty years ago. Besides, he’ll barely talk to me.”

Emily scooped up a sponge, wincing at the nagging pain around her ribs. They’d been cleaning for hours, ever since leaving the stud barn, and she’d forgotten about the duct tape.

Billy hadn’t been able to answer any of their questions. But at least the strenuous scrubbing had kept her from agonizing about her useless gift for Jenna. And Judith had been amazingly kind, staying to help, although her efforts seemed focused on de-cluttering while Emily had a need to clean.

“Maybe I should talk to Louise Hamilton,” Emily said. “She’s very approachable. Maybe she hasn’t seen Billy in awhile.”

“I guess.” Judith flipped open the top of a cardboard box, sneezing as dust clouded the air. “There’s so much junk here. Look at this.”

“Don’t open his personal stuff,” Emily said. “Just stack it—”

“Oh my God...” Judith’s voice trailed off. Her face paled as she lifted a brown duffle bag with a horse head ID tag and a name written in cursive pink loop.

“What was the name of the missing groom?” Emily asked, her mouth turning dry. Judith traced the tag with a slow finger. “Tracey,” she finally croaked. “Tracey Walker—just like on this nametag.”

Emily pressed her palms over her cheeks and wheeled, eyeing Billy with horror. There were probably all kinds of reasons why the groom’s duffle bag was here. However, her scrabbling brain could only think of one.

“It doesn’t mean anything,” Judith said quickly. “She might still be alive.”

Billy stared out the window. Emily dropped to the floor beside Judith, reassured by his oblivion.

“Yes, this is probably just an extra bag.” But Emily’s hands shook as she tugged at the zipper. “Maybe we can find something important,” she whispered. “Like makeup or birth control pills. No girl ever leaves that stuff.”

They flipped through the contents but found only a toothbrush, assorted clothing and a yellow bottle of moisturizer cream.

“This ball cap looks like an original.” Judith waved an inscribed cap:
Reckless, Kentucky Derby 1994.
“Bet there aren’t many of these. The director would love it for the movie.”

“You can have it.”

Emily jerked around at the sound of Billy’s voice. He stood above them, his eyes bright and lucid. It was surprising how he’d crossed the room so silently.

“We were going to order five hundred of those hats, but the damn horse went crazy. You can have it,” he repeated.

“I’d love it,” Judith said.

“Not you.” He shook his head and pointed at Emily. “Her. She brings me doughnuts.”

“That’s okay,” Emily said. “You keep the hat, Billy. It’s special.”

“No. I keep too many things.” He reached down, pulled the cap from Judith’s hand and plunked it on Emily’s head. “It’s new and needs to be worn. Reckless should have won the Derby.”

Emily obligingly adjusted the cap, pulling her hair through the loop in the back. She’d never been a hat person. Fancy hats were different, of course, but she’d always thought it foolish to spend hours styling hair merely to hide it beneath a ball cap. Considering her hair and current clothes though, this was a definite improvement. “It’s great, Billy,” she said sincerely. “Thank you.”

“Do you remember Reckless’s groom,” she added, her gaze shooting to the duffle bag. “A girl called Tracey?”

“Did Tracey give you some stuff to keep?” Judith chimed in. “Maybe you remember where she went?”

Billy just scowled. “Reckless should have won the Derby,” he repeated. He shuffled back toward his chair, splaying a gnarled hand against the wall for support.

“We need to come back,” Judith whispered. “And have a better look around.”

“Yes, but Dan doesn’t want me on site.” Emily gave a nonchalant shrug, careful to hide her hurt. “Would they let me on the bus if I wasn’t working background?”

Judith sighed regretfully and shook her head. “Not likely.”

Dan fidgeted in his chair, unable to keep his mind on the camera team’s analysis. He rarely lost his temper but he’d done so with Emily. When she’d planted herself in front of a charging Bruno, his raw fear had been gut wrenching.

He knew why she’d done it. Performers often took huge risks to further their careers. He understood that, respected it even, but he couldn’t condone it. Not when the behavior could result in an injury. He’d watched that happen before; he wasn’t going to go through it again.

And dammit, her cue had been to leap from Bruno’s path at fifteen feet.

He folded his arms, staring unseeingly at the whiteboard. Anthony was talking again, smiling, obviously delighted with the day’s shooting.
Bruno wouldn’t have stopped.
The thought left Dan nauseous.

“Great footage today,” Anthony continued, waving the remote. “The horse played a perfect rogue. Starting gate scene tomorrow. Is it the same horse, Dan?”

Dan jerked to attention and nodded. “Yes.”

“Good.” Anthony gave a hopeful smile. “You positive you can’t flip him?”

Dan shook his head. Rearing in the gate was dangerous enough for horse and rider. And anyone else nearby. Anthony’s request that the horse flip over was a joke. At least, Dan hoped it was a joke. He narrowed his eyes.

“I’m joking,” Anthony said quickly. “How many times can your horse rear in a day? Eight?”

“Six max,” Dan said. “But I’ll have a second horse on standby.”

Anthony nodded. “So twelve chances for the scene. Good. And I want the gates to open, and Reckless to come out rearing. Then we’ll show Hamilton’s horror.”

Dan stiffened. Originally Reckless just stood in the gate, along with four others. Reckless reared and they backed the horses out, deciding he was incorrigible. “We only have one stunt rider booked tomorrow,” he said. “The other three are just special skills. Including your niece.”

Anthony shook his head. “I don’t want my niece riding a galloping racehorse from a gate.”

“No problem,” Dan said. “I doubt she’d stay on.”

The casting director laughed and even Anthony’s mouth twitched. Unfortunately, Anthony’s niece had stalled the first portion of the rail shoot. She could barely manage a trot, and it was clear her father had greatly exaggerated her riding ability.

“We have some cutting to do,” Anthony admitted, “but we did get some good stuff on the other side of the track. Reckless looked like a mad runaway. Take a look.”

Dan dragged his gaze to the screen, his hands clenching so tightly his knuckles whitened. He didn’t need to see it; the footage was seared in his mind. Emily had looked utterly vulnerable standing in Bruno’s path. She’d remained rooted much too long, although admittedly it was good stuff from the director’s point of view.

But Anthony had never seen the damage a horse’s hooves could do, and besides, it was Dan’s responsibility to protect the stunt performers.

“This is awesome.” Anthony gave another satisfied nod. “It really looks like she’s going to be trampled.”

Dan stared reluctantly at the screen. Bruno’s ears were flattened, his neck stretched as he gunned toward Emily, galloping exactly as he’d been trained. To run by anything, through anything and over anything until he reached the pickup point.

Dan’s stomach heaved.

“Look at that.” Anthony blew out a satisfied sigh while onscreen Emily waved frantic arms. “That girl has guts.”

“Great tits too,” someone in the back said.

Dan’s jaw clenched. He hated this part, and at the moment hated every smug smiling face in the room.

“Gotta love non-union,” the assistant director said, giving Anthony a complacent smile. “They do what you tell them, no questions asked.”

The comment jarred Dan. He leaned forward. “Can you roll it again, with sound?”

“We’re dubbing our own sound later,” Anthony said.

“I’d like to hear the original.”

“All right.” Anthony blew out a noisy breath. “But you need to know we changed her timing a bit. After all, this wasn’t a stunt. Just a background performer.”

Dan didn’t need to listen to the audio. It was apparent now. He squeezed his eyes shut, sick with regret. Emily hadn’t been showboating; she’d merely been following directions. And he’d been off balance all morning, still reeling from their memorable night together. He should have remained by the tractor rather than monitor the stunt man.

No wonder her eyes had been full of such bewilderment, such hurt. It was the hurt that bothered him the most.