Bluegrass Peril (17 page)

Scott leaned back in the chair, unable to tear his gaze from the hoof pick. No. He refused to believe it. Zach had been nothing but kind to him since he came to Shady Acres. They didn’t have a lot in common outside of the horses, but he was a nice guy. Not a killer.

Cold fingers slid up his spine, and the hair on his arms rose. Zach had wanted the temporary job over at the Pasture. He’d been irritated when Lee gave it to Scott. Why would he be eager to walk away from the Shady Acres manager position with the responsibility and staff and all the prestige that went with it?

Was Zach in cahoots with Haldeman to clone the stallions?

No. This had to be another misunderstanding, just like the one with Nick Sanders. There had to be an explanation.

And Scott wanted—no needed—to hear it.

T
he ringing of the telephone interrupted their movie.

“I’ll get it!” Tyler jumped up from the living room floor and ran for the phone in the kitchen.

“Want me to pause it, Mommy?” Jamie, in control of the remote tonight, held an eager finger above the button.

“Sure.”

Becky glanced at the wall clock. A few minutes past six-thirty. About time Chris called. The boys had waited all afternoon. In a blatant effort to soothe their aching feelings, Becky had splurged on a supper of junk food and a movie rental.

She heard Tyler’s high-pitched, “Hello?” from the kitchen, followed by a pause. “Hi, Mr. Lewis. I’ll get Mommy.”

Scott calling her? A sudden attack of nerves made her want to giggle, but she bit it back. She’d itched all day long to call him, to tell him about her decision. But what would he think? That she was chasing him? That she was man-hungry? Images of the tall, gorgeous Kaci Buchanan taunted her and kept her from picking up the phone.

But now he was calling her.

“Go ahead and press Play,” she told Jamie. “I’ll catch up with the movie in a minute.”

She intercepted Tyler in the doorway and took the phone from him. He scooted past her, grabbed a handful of chips from the bag on the coffee table and returned to his place on the floor in front of the television.

“Hello?”

“Becky, it’s Scott.” His voice sounded odd, tight.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I don’t know. I found something.”

She sank into a chair, listening with growing disbelief as he described his discovery in the office at Shady Acres.

“So you called the police, right?” Her voice came out in a squeak, and she lowered it. “Please tell me you called the police.”

“Not yet. I have to talk to him, Becky. I’ve been falsely accused before, and I won’t do that to anyone else. I’ve worked with Zach for almost a year now, and I owe him that.”

“You don’t owe him a thing if he
killed Neal.
” She hissed the last words, glancing toward the doorway to make sure the twins were still in the living room. “And don’t forget that bookie. Two people are dead, Scott. If he’s responsible, he might come after you, too.”

“That’s why I called you. I don’t want to go over there without someone knowing where I am. I’m sorry to pull you into this, but I didn’t think I should call Lee. Zach might have a perfectly logical explanation for that hoof pick, and then he won’t thank me for calling his boss.”

Her insides clenched into a knot. She wanted to scream at him, would have, if the boys hadn’t been in the other room. “Scott, this is a mistake.” She let a note of unabashed pleading saturate her tone. “Please call the police.”

He ignored her. “It’s six-thirty now. I’m at my house, and I can see his place from here. It’s dark. I know he went to Keeneland today, but he should be home soon. I want you to do me a favor.” He paused. “If you don’t hear from me by eight o’clock, call the police.”

His tone chilled her to the bone. “Scott, I’m afraid. Please don’t do this.”

“I’ll be fine. Promise me you won’t call the cops before eight, okay?”

She hesitated. “I don’t think—”

“Please, Becky. I’m counting on you.”

She couldn’t think straight. Her gut screamed
No,
but he was counting on her. She couldn’t deny him. She heaved a loud sigh into the phone, another indication to him that she was going against her better judgment. “Okay, I promise not to call the police until eight o’clock. But the moment that second hand hits—”

“You won’t have to. I’ll be in touch before then.” Relief made his voice sound almost normal. “One other thing. Say a prayer for me, okay?”

Her hand trembled so violently the phone slipped away from her ear. “I will. Please be careful.”

The line went dead. Becky sat at the kitchen table, her heart pounding. He should not do this alone. If Zach Garrett killed Neal and that bookie, he was a dangerous man. Scott was too trusting. He needed someone else with him, someone to make him see reason. If only she had a babysitter she could leave the boys with on short notice.

After Tuesday night, she wouldn’t dare ask Amber. What about…

No. She would
not
call Chris. He’d said something about “hair of the dog,” which meant he was probably drunk again tonight.

Her hands balled into fists, and she pounded on the table. Oh, how she hated this helpless feeling!

Lord, please keep Scott safe.

The doorbell rang. Becky’s teeth clamped together, her jaw tightening with frustration. She did not have the patience to deal with Christopher tonight. And if he thought he was going to come around the boys if he’d been drinking, he had another think coming. She’d just have to send him away, that’s all. Tyler and Jamie wouldn’t understand, but—

Jamie’s excited voice pierced the air. “Grandpa!”

Becky’s head jerked upward. Daddy, here?

She leaped up from the chair and ran into the living room. Each twin had hold of one of Daddy’s hands, and both hopped like overinflated basketballs, squealing their excitement. Becky threw her arms around her father’s neck and hugged for all she was worth.

“I’m so glad to see you.” Her voice came out choked. She pulled back and looked at him through pools of tears. “What are you doing here?”

He gave her a stern look. “I caught a 6:00 a.m. flight out of LAX, and it cost me a fortune. I’m here to make sure you don’t repeat the biggest mistake of your life.”

She hugged him again, laughing. “Thank you. Oh, thank you, Daddy.” She straightened. “And you’re just in time. I desperately need a babysitter!”

Becky pulled her car into the dirt driveway behind Scott’s pickup. She cut the engine and sat with her hands clutching the steering wheel. A chorus of crickets sang a peaceful counterpoint to her twanging nerves. When Scott saw her on his front stoop, he’d think she was no better than Kaci, blatantly chasing after him. Either that, or he’d be irritated with her.

Too bad. There was no way she intended to let him face a possible killer alone. Steeling herself, she dropped her keys in her purse and stepped out into the cool night air.

The door jerked open when she raised her hand to knock. Judging by the annoyance on his face, he’d chosen the second reaction.

“What are you doing here?” His gaze searched the car behind her. “You didn’t bring the boys, did you?”

“Of course not.” She drew herself up. “I came to help you. You can’t confront Zach by yourself.”

The cleft in his chin deepened as his lips tightened. “I certainly can, and I will.”

“Scott, be reasonable.” Becky adjusted the purse strap on her shoulder. “If there are two of us, he’s less likely to try anything.”

The next instant, Becky found herself jerked roughly through the door. Scott’s fingers bit into her arm as he pulled her to one side and slammed the door shut. He released her, crossed to a window and pulled back a curtain to peek through it.

“He’s home. I don’t want him to see you.”

She couldn’t help looking around the tiny room curiously even as she asked, “Why not?” A plain three-cushion sofa, a coffee table and a small television on a cheap metal stand were the only furnishings. Very sparse. Very male.

Scott wasn’t watching her. He had his eye up to the crack in the curtains and spoke without turning. “Because if it turns out he’s responsible for Haldeman’s death, I’d just as soon he not know you’re involved.” He whirled to face her. “I want you to go home.”

She folded her arms and said, “Not a chance.”

“But who will call the police if something happens to me?” His stare became suspicious. “You didn’t call them before you came, did you?”

Becky returned his stare. “Of course not. I promised, didn’t I?”

He peeked out the window. “He’s leaving again.” The irritated look he turned her way would have made her flinch if she hadn’t been trying so hard to look stubborn. “I’m going to miss my chance to talk to him.”

An idea sparked. “Let’s follow him. Maybe he’s going to grab a bite to eat or something. It’ll be much safer if you confront him in a public place.”

Scott’s forehead wrinkled as he considered her suggestion. “Well…”

“Come on!” She grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the door. “He’ll get away from us if we don’t hurry. I’ll drive.”

Scott jerked his arm away. “Why should you drive?”

She smiled sweetly. “Because I’m parked behind you.”

Scott’s fingers cramped from his tight grip on the armrest of Becky’s car. “He turned right. Past that white truck.”

She took her gaze off the road to glance his way. “I saw him.”

He had to admit, she’d done a good job of following Zach’s car on the fifteen-minute drive to Lexington, never losing sight of his taillights, but staying far enough back that he wouldn’t notice. Once they hit the city limits they got a little closer. But instead of going to a restaurant, as Scott hoped, Zach seemed to be going to someone’s house. The car was winding through the quiet streets of a sprawling neighborhood. Not a lot of traffic here to hide them.

“There.” His finger left a smudge on the windshield. “He pulled into a driveway. Don’t get close to the house.”

“I won’t.”

Becky pulled the car over to the side of the road and cut the lights. Enough cars were parked up and down this residential street that theirs should go unnoticed. They watched as Zach got out of his car and went inside the house without knocking.

“I can’t follow him in there. What if he’s on a date or something?” Scott’s hands knotted into fists. “If you hadn’t showed up, I could have confronted him at home, before he took off again.”

Becky caught him in a sideways look. “If you hadn’t been so mule-headed about talking to him, the police would be doing this instead of us.”

He turned away from her piercing gaze. Unexpectedly, his lips twitched. They were snapping at each other like old friends. He swallowed convulsively. Or sweethearts. His smile faded. Which they definitely were not.

He unclipped the cell phone from his belt. “As long as we’re here, I’m going to sneak up there and have a look through the back windows.”

Her head jerked upward, and her eyes searched his face. “Why in the world would you do that?”

Scott lifted a shoulder. “Call it a hunch. If Zach was involved with Haldeman in a cloning scheme, there’s still the matter of the laboratory. Where better to hide it than in the middle of suburbia?”

Her eyes widened as his logic sank in. Then her chin lifted in that stubborn pose he was getting accustomed to seeing. “Then I think we should call—”

“The police. I know.” He handed her the cell phone. “If I’m not back in ten minutes, that’s exactly what I want you to do.”

He didn’t wait to hear her arguments, but unsnapped his seat belt with one hand as he opened the door with the other. He slipped out, crouching, and closed the door as quickly and quietly as he could. The light inside had only been on for a few seconds. Hopefully, not long enough for anyone to notice.

Not that there was anyone to see. The streets were void of movement, though light illuminated the windows of most of the single-story homes that lined both sides of the street. Scott walked down the sidewalk with his arms swinging at his sides. If anybody happened to glance outside, he’d look as if he was just out for a casual stroll.

When he neared the house into which Zach had disappeared, he bent low and darted through the grass and into the side yard. Thankfully, there was no fence. Nor were there any windows on this side of the home, except for a single small one high up, probably in a bathroom. He leaned against the brick and willed his breath to remain even. If he’d known he was going to be sneaking around in the dark, he would have worn his black jeans and shirt.

There was a front window, but no shrubberies or anything else to give him cover. His best bet was to sneak around to the back and hope he could see something from there.

Placing each foot with exaggerated care, he crept along the side of the house. A peek around the corner showed no sign of movement. A privacy fence encased the yard behind this one, so he couldn’t be seen from that direction. There was no fence on either side, but there was no sign of anyone there, either.

Four windows on the back of the house. The far two were dark. Bent double, he slunk toward the first one, through which a bright light shone. With extra caution, he inched upward and looked inside.

A kitchen. Not a very clean one, either. The sink held a load of dirty dishes, and a couple more stacks littered the counter beside it. The stove, too, had pots and pans on it. In the corner, a garbage can overflowed.

Nothing moved inside. Scott strained his ears for any sound from within the house. A dog barked a few houses away, but from inside, nothing. Where was Zach, and why wasn’t he talking to whoever lived here?

He moved on to the back door. The handle didn’t budge. Probably a good thing. He might have been tempted to sneak inside if it had. The window in the door was covered on the inside with a curtain through which he could see nothing.

The other two windows looked in on empty rooms. Though they were dark, his eyes had adjusted enough that he could see there wasn’t a stick of furniture in either one. And the doors were closed, so he couldn’t see anything beyond them, either.

He sagged against the wall, disappointed. He’d hoped to find something to justify this harebrained jaunt, so he didn’t look like a complete fool in Becky’s eyes. Which was stupid, of course. What did it matter what Becky thought? She was going back to her husband.

She was probably right, and they should just call the police. But what if he accused his boss and friend of killing someone, and it turned out the hoof pick he found wasn’t the murder weapon after all?

He headed back the way he had come. Maybe he could call Trooper Whitley or Detective Foster and tip them off that he’d found it, and they wouldn’t have to tell Zach where they heard it from.

A sound halted him. Someone was coming around the corner. His glance circled the yard frantically, looking for cover.