Death By Bridle (15 page)

Goetz had just left the hospital.

He had come to inform me that Slade had finally confessed to the murder of Arthur Aaron Greene III. Slade could not explain why Arthur Greene had disliked his father so, but that his refusal to help had cost the Slade family much. The court had ordered a psychological evaluation for Slade.

Goetz was barely out the door before Shaneika started in on me.

Handing me a tissue box before she continued. “Are you going to stop crying, so I can finish?”

“How much more is there?” I asked pressing a button for the nurse.

“We gotta get a defense here,” complained Shaneika. She looked imploringly at Matt.

Matt held my hand. “Look, Rennie, you’ve got to be strong.”

“You haven’t called me Rennie in the longest time.” Matt called me Rennie after the actor Michael Rennie, who played in
The Day The Earth Stood Still.
I helped him win a bet on what Michael Rennie’s commands were to the robot. It was how we met.

“Woman, you’ve got to focus,” Matt implored.

“Matt, this is useless. She’s floating in the sky with pain killers.”

“Yes, Josiah must be very happy that she’s got all the pain medication she wants.”

“I understand exactly what you both are saying. Ellen smells blood with O’nan making a fuss and thinks she can squeeze another dime out of me. I hate her. I wish she were dead.”

Shaneika closed the door to my hospital room. “Don’t say things like that. You know better.”

“The Butterfly is in my name. My name is on that deed and only my name. I designed the Butterfly – not Brannon. He only built it for me. The Butterfly is mine. How can she lay claim to it?”

“Try to understand. The case she is making is that the Butterfly is not just another house, but an institution – an icon. Because everyone thinks that Brannon designed it, his only son should have a portion or say into what happens to the house. You will die, eventually, but the house will go on. It will probably be a foundation or a trust that sees to it.”

“My will gives it to Asa. It will be Asa’s to do with it what she wants.”

Matt intervened, “But Ellen is making the case that a portion of the house belongs to her son as it is an important historical piece of architecture, the first of its kind.”

I started to cry. “That woman is going to be the death of me.”

“I’m sorry but it looks as though there is a mounted effort to hem you in, Josiah. Ellen must have been working on this for a long time with her friends,” said Matt.

“And now that O’nan is free on bail, she thinks she can rattle your cage.”

“And she is doing a fine job of it,” I whined. “What do I do? The wolves are at the door. If O’nan doesn’t cut my throat while I’m in the hospital, I’ve got to deal with Ellen when I get out.”

Matt looked at Shaneika. “We are working on a counter defense, but you have to stay cool, man. Don’t make things worse. Stay away from her and make no statements to your friends about Ellen. Mum’s the word.”

I nodded in agreement. The door opened and a nurse brought in a tray of food. Baby swill is what I call it. Jell-O and something that looked like brown tapioca pudding. Yuck.

Matt glanced at the tray and reared back. “Is that all they’re feeding you?”

“They are practically starving me to death.”

Shaneika responded, “Well, I am going home to my Mama’s cooking.” She grinned, “Good luck eating that.” With that, she left with Matt following close behind. He turned, giving me a cheeky grin. I could tell Matt was going to hit Shaneika up for a dinner invitation.

I was starving. I gulped down the pudding, but couldn’t bring myself to eat the Jell-O. Pushing the tray away, I settled in for a quick snooze.

Hearing the door open, I struggled to sit up. “Now what?”

“Hello, Babe.”

I couldn’t believe my eyes.

Standing in front of my bed was . . . Jake.

Shaneika, Mrs. Todd, Jake, and I sat in our box seats at Keeneland for the Breeders’ Futurity Stakes. I had to keep pushing the feathers from Mrs. Todd’s hat away from my face until I plucked them out and threw them on the floor when she wasn’t looking.

Shaneika looked strained but Mike Connor gave a big smile and clasped her hand.

Mrs. Todd gave me a quick look as if to say, “What is this?”

I just shrugged my shoulders.

The horses started to make their entrance onto the track. I bit my lip as Comanche was led on to the turf.

The jockey had trouble getting him into the starter gate. Suddenly the bell went off and the gates opened. Horses like colorful birds flew out of the metal cages and raced down the dirt track. Hooves clamoring on the dirt track sounded like heartbeats. The crowd roared in anticipation.

Everyone jumped to their feet. Matt handed me his binoculars while Franklin screamed in my ear. I barely took a breath as I watched as the horses turn the corner and were heading home. Jake set calmly in his seat.

“Come on, Comanche,” I yelled. “Move your bloomin’ arse. Run!”

“Make your move!” screamed Franklin, jumping up and down, hanging on to Matt’s arm. “Make your move.”

Mrs. Todd was hopping in her brand new black pumps, grabbing her now featherless hat.

I looked over and saw that Shaneika had her eyes closed.

That was good as Comanche came in . . . dead last.

The dark clad figure pulled out the wires to the security box. Deftly, the intruder cut the correct wire to silence the alarm. Then going around to the southwest part of the huge mansion built in 1832, the thief skillfully unlocked the side porch door and stepped into the library.

Hearing a dog growling in the hallway, the thief threw a piece of meat towards the hall and stood patiently until the dog ate the meat and a moment later groggily stumbled, falling asleep. It would sleep for several hours from the drug administered to the meat but would wake up unharmed.

The thief looked for a wall safe behind paintings and even tapped on the walnut paneling. Finding nothing, the dark figure concentrated on the desk, taking pictures of any checks, bank statements, investments that could be found. Then she copied the computer files onto a flash drive.

Several drawers were locked but took the thief only seconds to break them open. Finding a handgun, the thief put it into a black bag; also several silver trophies from a bookshelf.

Silently investigating the house, the thief stole an antique silver tea set in the dining room and turned towards the front parlor. There the thief moved to the Duveneck painting hanging over the mantel. With quiet efficiency, the thief broke the frame and then cut the painting from its stretcher. Rolled, the painting was placed in a tube the thief had brought.

Both the painting and the bag with the silver were lowered out a window.

Now unencumbered, the thief studied the massive staircase. Making a calculated decision, the thief leaped up the stairs, taking three steps at a time. Hiding in the shadows of the hallway, the thief saw that most of the upstairs doors were open.

Seeing what looked like a nightlight dimly peeping into the hallway, the thief surmised that it came from a child’s room and headed for it.

The thief was right.

A boy, wearing Spider Man pajamas, lay asleep in a bed designed to look like a racecar. The thief studied the child’s features. Suddenly the thief’s hand shot out, but only to pull the blanket over the little boy.

The black, sleek figure pulled itself away and went to look for the mother’s room. Going next door, the thief discovered the mother of the boy asleep in her king size bed. She was wearing shorts and a sports bra. Like the boy, she had thrown off her blanket and lay sprawled across the bed, lightly snoring. A purse hung off a chair.

The thief claimed it and then went directly to a jewelry box sitting on the vanity and took it downstairs. Pouring the contents of both the purse and the box onto the couch, the thief picked up several pieces of jewelry and a wallet, only to flee out the side door. The thief was careful to lock it again.

Picking up the bag and tube, the thief absconded into the woods and to a country road where a car was waiting. Flinging the goods in the trunk, the thief turned off the night goggles, throwing them on top of the sack. Starting with gloves, the thief took off dark clothing, revealing a casual fall outfit. The dark clothing was stuffed into a garbage bag and securely tied. The thief let long dark hair escape from a confining cap and got in the car, quietly shutting the door.

The driver looked at his boss. “Twenty-five minutes. What took you so long?”

“The painting was more trouble than I anticipated,” lied Asa. “Let’s move on down the road.”

The car sped down Old Frankfort Pike with its lights off until it cut over the road to Midway.

Asa leaned back in the seat, smiling to herself. Ellen was going to be distracted as she was going to spend a great deal of time cleaning up identity theft which was going to start occurring tonight. As for the jewelry and silver, Asa would stash it in her New York apartment’s safe until she could have something made from the stolen loot. The credit cards would be given to her driver.

Forty-five minutes later, Asa boarded a Piper from a private airstrip in Scott County and flew to New York.

The employee made several outlandish purchases from Ellen’s iPhone with her credit cards and then dropped the cards on the floor of a drinking establishment in Covington.

Josiah Reynolds slept fitfully in her bed, never knowing that her daughter had been in Kentucky.

BONUS

AN EXCITING CHAPTER
FROM

“DEATH BY BOURBON”

Doreen Doris Mayfield DeWitt tapped her tapered glossy nails on the gleaming end table while watching the woman pace before her. Although she felt like swiping the woman with her claws, she remained passive, watching as her guest spewed forth countless words trying to explain her situation.

“You see, Doreen, I simply can’t go on like this. I mean . . .well, I didn’t mean to fall in love with Addison. It just happened. So I’m going to have to renege on our little agreement. It simply wouldn’t be right.”

“You mean the agreement where I paid you to seduce Addison and provide evidence of adultery so I wouldn’t have to give him part of my fortune according to my prenup with him.”

Lacey Bridges batted her large blue eyes. “Well, I never asked you why you wanted me to seduce Addison. Is that why? You want to divorce Addison. Well, that’s wonderful because I want to marry Addison. See – it works out for everyone.”

“Except for evidence of adultery or abuse, I would have to pay Addison a substantial sum of my own money – my family’s money.”

“You could always say that he hit you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” snapped Doreen. “No one would believe that.”

“Well, I don’t know what to say. This is a pickle for you.”

“Let’s start with the money I’ve already paid you and the video you were supposed to make for me.”

Lacey laughed. “Well, the money is gone . . . for clothes you know. And the tapes – well, I had to destroy those, you see.”

Doreen sighed. “Do you always have to start a sentence with well?”

“What?”

“Never mind.”

Lacey simpered. “It wouldn’t do well to insult me, Doreen. I haven’t told Addison the truth yet, but I will if you keep on pushing me.”

“Afraid that he might recoil from such a gold digger as you?”

“He would forgive me eventually but it would slow up the divorce, that’s for sure.” Lacey searched in her purse for lipstick. “Well, the way I look at it, we can all get what we want. You get rid of Addison and I get him with a little bit of money. Oh, come off it. I’m sure you can spare some cash on Addison. Surely you want him to go out in style?” Lacey opened her compact and smeared on dark red lipstick. Dropping the compact and lipstick back into her purse, she stood satisfied at both her appearance and negotiation. “I am sure we can work this out to both our mutual satisfactions. All of this depends of just how badly you want to divorce Addison, doesn’t it.”

Lacey placed a card on Doreen’s antique end table. “Here’s where you can reach me. I’m sure you’ll see that I am right after thinking about it. Don’t rise, please. I’ll see myself out.” She air kissed Doreen and then pranced out of the room.

Upon hearing the front door slam shut, Doreen stared into the fireplace losing herself to the dancing flames thinking, thinking, thinking.

She’d be damned before she gave one red cent to that worthless English hustler she married. Absent-mindedly she fingered the heavy gold ring on her right hand until she finally felt its weight pull on her. Lifting her hand up to her face, she opened the ring’s secret compartment and smiled. Good thing she had always liked history or she never would had purchased a ring supposedly owned by Lucrezia Borgia.

Doreen laughed. “Now what would Lucrezia do in my circumstance?”

It was very late when Doreen finally went to bed but not before she had concocted a plan. She would get rid of Addison and his obnoxious little bitch too. And no one would know that it was she that pulled the strings of a little murder about to take place in the calm green rolling hills of the Bluegrass.

Kentucky is not called the dark and bloody ground for nothing.