Winning Ways (25 page)

He put the mystery out of his mind for a while, while he cleaned out the horse trailer and closed it up. He dragged a hose across the driveway and began to rinse the dust from the gleaming blue Dodge Ram. His reflection in the smoke-tinted windows reminded him that he was, again, someone else's lackey.

Kurt was very particular about maintenance of the farm vehicles, and his after-show routine included a thorough cleaning, inside and out. Losing himself in the mindless task, his thoughts drifted to the last conversation with Liz that night in the tack stall. Her anger had been justified - he couldn't argue with that. She'd viewed him as the source of all her problems, an opinion not far from the truth.

He grabbed a rumpled show schedule from the floor of the truck and stuffed it into the trash bag, then removed his hotel receipt from the dashboard to give to Eve for reimbursement. He squinted at the receipt, and an idea began to take shape. Leaning back in the seat, he looked through the windshield at the big house. Eve reclined on the deck, enjoying her usual midmorning sunbath. He looked from her prone figure to the red Corvette parked next to the truck. If she did drive to Daly City and back, she had to get gas somewhere along the way.

He jumped to the ground and walked around the truck to the other side, crouching down between the two vehicles. His pulse jerked as he reached for the door handle of the Vette. He looked up again to be sure she couldn't see him and, praying that she hadn't set the alarm, snatched the door open and slipped inside.

Eve's car was always a pigsty, and he grimaced at the careless treatment of a beautiful vehicle. He poked through the rubbish on the passenger seat and, finding nothing of interest, leaned across the console and checked the floor. Dammit, I was so sure! Discouraged, he sat back in the soft leather seat, and checked on Eve again. He reached for the door handle, giving the interior one last cursory glance. He spotted a flash of yellow tucked deep between the driver's seat and the console. He pulled it out, and grinned triumphantly. It was a parking violation warning, written up by Cow Palace Security and dated the day of the stallion class. The time written on the ticket was 3:05 am. He stuck it into his pocket, and checked the crevice beside the seat again, digging a little deeper. When he withdrew his hand, he had the answer: a dated credit card gas receipt from a station just east of Oakland, stamped with Eve's name and the time the gas had been pumped - 3:55 am.

Kurt stared at his image in the mirror as he combed his damp hair. Sharp features stared back at him, dark eyes challenging. What he was about to do seemed slimy and underhanded, but his determination to get to the bottom of the drugging incident spurred his resolve.

Remnants of the shower still glistened across his shoulders and chest, and he whisked them away with a towel. Splashing aftershave over his neck, he winced at his blatant preparations to charm Eve into disaster. A few minutes later, he glanced in the mirror again, noted the hard look in his eyes, and headed out the door. The warmth of the sun had faded, a sure sign that October was on its way. Walking across the lawn toward the big house, he felt a deeper chill.

Eve wasn't in sight when he stepped onto the deck. He rapped lightly on the open door, and she peeked out of the kitchen.

"Hi, come on in. I'm defrosting some steaks." She gave him a sly smile. "Hungry?"

His stomach tightened. Does this woman have a conscience?

She walked toward him, her red hair loose and flowing over her shoulders, her face glowing with an almost flirtatious expression.

He smiled. "My, my! Don't you look nice."

His conscience chided him for how low he'd sunk.

Out on the deck, he purposely selected a seat that would give him face-to-face space with Eve. She handed him a frosty mug of beer, leaning over and providing him with a glimpse of tanned cleavage. He caught the scent of her freshly washed hair and heavy, exotic perfume. The ploy was transparent, and his determination deepened.

She settled herself into the chair next to him and raised her glass. "Here's to good times ahead."

Her eagerness was like that of a child waiting for a bedtime story. "Tell me everything about the show."

Choosing his words carefully, Kurt delivered a day-by-day description of the event, the classes, the other exhibitors, and the winners. He didn't mention Liz's attendance at the show, preferring to bide his time until Eve brought it up. He knew she would, thinking she was home free.

The sun dropped, taking the temperature with it, and Eve gestured toward the house.

"It's cold out here. Let's go inside. I'll get the steaks going."

While she fired up the grill, Kurt glanced into the dining room. Fine china, crystal glasses, flowers, and a bottle of wine were set up on the lace-covered table. She clearly thought he'd be easily manipulated. His jaw tightened with distaste. Is she ever in for a big surprise!

Eve had almost finished her second glass of wine when Kurt pounced.

"Bill Benton tried to buy Liz's colt the day before the class."

Her glass stopped in mid-air, and a frown knitted her eyebrows. "What are you talking about? He's buying Ebony."

Kurt kept his tone soft and even. "He's not stupid, Eve. He knows a great horse when he sees one, and Liz's colt has fantastic potential."

Regaining a little of her composure, she shrugged. "Well, he certainly never mentioned it to me. He said she had a problem with her horse, that's all. Illegal drugs or something."

Kurt's face stiffened with anticipation. Her guilt showed in the way she held herself while she lied to him. He glanced down at his plate, mentally suppressing the urge to walk out. When he looked up again, Eve was pouring herself another glass of wine. Her face was flushed, and her hands trembled, causing red drops to splatter across the white lace, but she didn't seem to notice.

Her voice took on a hard edge. "So, tell me. Did she have a problem or not?"

Kurt sat back in the chair, and arranged himself into a relaxed pose. "You tell me."

Her self-control was slipping. In a matter of minutes, he would have enough to nail her. She set the wine bottle down hard, causing the silverware to jump.

"Kurt, why do you keep acting like you don't know anything? Billy said you were with her every time he turned around." The green eyes narrowed maliciously. "In fact, Billy seems to think you had something to do with knocking the colt out of the class..." She paused and smiled wickedly. "Which makes sense, since you did have a large commission riding on Ebony's title."

Kurt sat forward, cold resolve infusing his thoughts. His moment was near, and the excitement of moving in for the kill was almost seductive.

"I wonder if Billy would appreciate knowing you're the one responsible for the colt's disqualification."

Eve's exaggerated look of astonishment added a theatrical effect to her words.

"You have to be kidding! You know I was right here the whole time. You talked to me on the phone every day."

He watched her pretense for a moment.

"Yeah, I did. But once you got your obligatory phone call out of the way, you'd be unaccountable until you called me again the next day. You had all night to get the deed done."

Her expression changed rapidly, moving from indignant to downright ugly.

"How dare you accuse me of this! Who do y - "

Kurt rose to his full height and stared down at her.

"You drugged the colt, didn't you?"

She said nothing, just looked down at her glass. A minute later, she raised her eyes in defiance.

"I've struggled for years, trying to take Aliqua to the top. My horses are outstanding, but I've never had anyone to help me. Then you came along with your magical powers over them, and I thought I could have my dreams. Ebony was going to be my chance. I counted on you, and you screwed it up."

Kurt didn't flinch. "Did you, or didn't you drug the colt?"

She lifted her chin self-righteously and squared her shoulders. "The horse wasn't hurt. He can be shown again next year."

Kurt felt the bile rise in his throat, and he took a deep breath, resisting the urge to shake the daylights out of her.

"The horse is fine. Liz is not. Her record has a damaging smear on it, and you have to fix it, whether you wielded the needle yourself, or paid someone else to do it."

She rose and looked him straight in the eye. "You have no proof that I had anything to do with it."

He gave her a cold smile. "You think not?"

Liz awoke to sun streaming through the bedroom window and the smell of freshly brewed coffee drifting on the air. She smiled and closed her eyes again, knowing Kurt was downstairs taking care of things, taking care of her. A quiet rustle caught her attention and she looked toward the door. A handsome face peeked around the doorjamb, and her heart thumped. She felt an overwhelming urge to beckon him to her bed, and lose herself in his arms.

His soft voice prodded her back to reality. "Good Morning. How are you feeling?"

"I don't know. I haven't moved anything yet."

She took a deep breath and attempted to sit up, sending excruciating pain through her shoulder. She gasped and fell back on the pillow.

"Easy, Hon. You're going to be very sore for a while."

He moved to the side of the bed and slipped his arm under her back for support while she tried again. When she'd managed to gain an upright position, he plumped the pillows behind her back, then stroked her hair lightly, sending arrows of delight through her thoughts.

"Ready for coffee? Breakfast? Drugs?"

She noticed her face didn't hurt quite so much when she smiled.

"Coffee and drugs, please. I'll wait on the breakfast for awhile."

He disappeared through the door and she heard his quick tread on the stairs. He whistled softly under his breath, and she listened after him. How comfortable and right it felt to have him there. You've come a long way, Lizzie. Now if you can just get your ego under control, you might have a chance for happiness with this guy.

As Kurt fixed a coffee tray for the patient, his brain churned. Should I tell her about last night with Eve? His first inclination was to leave it alone, given his track record when it came to explaining things to Liz. They'd finally come to a point where they weren't at each other's throat every time he turned around. He did not want to jeopardize that.

Anyway, it'd be better to wait until I've really proven Eve's involvement. If that's even possible. He stared at the milk jug in his hand. I have good, strong evidence, but I'm really an uninvolved bystander. Liz has to be the one to press the issue. He slowly set the milk on the tray. Does she have the gumption to do it?

A few minutes later, he sat on the edge of Liz's bed and cradled a steaming mug between his hands as he brought her up to date on Muscala.

"Eve feels real bad you got hurt."

"It's my own damned fault. I should have - "

"No! Horse owners have a responsibility to inform any prospective buyer about a horse with problems. It doesn't matter what kind of problem - training, personality, foaling quirks - whatever. I don't believe even a pre-purchase exam would have given you the information about that mare's weird personality. It was fully Eve's responsibility to tell you about it."

"Temperament is hard to assess in a single exam...But, you know, I had seen her strange behavior - and worried about it. You'd think I'd have been more careful."

He stood up. "Eve takes care of Eve. Don't ever forget that." He stroked her hair softly. "I have to go. I'll be back later."

After he'd gone, Liz's thoughts turned to business. She needed to check in with Doc Sams. She felt terrible that she'd let him down, after convincing him to allow her to step in while he rested. However, he'd been very concerned and sympathetic, telling her to take it easy, that he was fine and the work would still be there when she felt better.

She gazed at her battered reflection in the mirror. The woman who stared back had many bruises, and not all of them were physical.

By mid-afternoon, she broke down and took more pain medication, eventually falling into a deep sleep filled with fractured dreams of Muscala, Kurt in armor on a charging black steed, and Fair Lady with a unicorn horn. Someone sounded a trumpet, and she jerked awake.

Kurt's voice on the phone sent shivers of happiness across her skin. "Did I wake you?"

"It's okay, you can't imagine the dream I had."

A chuckle. "Is it censored?"

Her face warmed. "No, just crazy."

"I'll be over around five. I just wanted to see how you were doing."

She put the phone into its cradle, and lay back again. I could really get used to this. The phone rang again, and Colleen's voice bubbled through the receiver.

"I got your message. What's up?"

Liz's tale left Colleen aghast.

"God! Do ya need me to come over an' help out?"

Liz's joy formed her smile. "No, Kurt is taking care of everything."