Death By Derby 8 (Josiah Reynolds Mysteries) (5 page)

I grabbed June’s champagne glass and took a large swig. “You won’t believe who I just saw.”

“Well, don’t keep me in suspense, especially at my age.”

I could barely spit out the words, “Asa’s ex-husband, Minor Reasor.”

June reared back in shock. “I can’t believe that he would show his face in Kentucky.”

“Oh, June, it’s worse than that. He’s more handsome and arrogant than ever, and still working for the ATF.”

“What’s he doing here?”

“He wanted to interview Shaneika about Charlie Hoskins.”

June thought for a moment. “The ATF does investigate explosions, and that balloon blow-up was a doozy. The TV cameras didn’t catch it, but many of the spectators in the infield taped it and now it’s on every channel. No one could have survived it. It was horrible.”

“And someone must have tipped off the ATF about the fight Charlie and Shaneika had at your Derby party.”

“Still, how did he get here so fast? I have a bad feeling about this, Josiah. A very bad feeling.”

“Shaneika wouldn’t talk to them today, but she will have to talk with them eventually.”

“Look, the next race is starting. We’ll have to discuss this later.”

I nodded and left the suite, looking for a pay phone. They were very hard to find in this day and age, but I finally found one. I dialed a number that I had memorized. When the line on the other end was answered, I just said one word, “Rosebud.”

M
inor Reasor checked into Louisville’s historic Seelbach Hotel. All he wanted to do was shower and order room service. He was beat and dirty from the day’s work. Part of it was spent on the crime scene and the other part was spent running down and interviewing witnesses.

He usually worked cases involving the smuggling of alcohol or tobacco. In fact, he had worked on breaking up Kentucky’s notorious Cornbread Mafia, but that had been years ago.

The ATF had gotten a tip days ago that something was going to go down at Churchill Downs during the Derby, so he pulled in every favor to get assigned to the case. ATF and Homeland Security agents had been all over Churchill Downs for a week prior to that Saturday.

He had his own reasons to be here. It was to stir things up. Sometimes old wounds never heal.

Throwing off his tie and kicking off his shoes, Minor went into the bathroom and quickly disrobed. Taking a hot shower, he emerged wearing a thick cotton towel.

Then Minor stopped short.

Sitting in a chair was Asa Reynolds pointing his own gun at him.

“Hello Minor.”

“How did you know I was here, Asa?”

“I remembered that you have always loved this hotel. It was simply a matter of having my people stake it out.”

“Were you already in Louisville?”

“No.”

Minor sat on the bed. “Ah, your mother must have called.”

Asa didn’t reply, but waved the gun at the door when someone knocked.

Minor twitched at the sound. “Your people again?”

Asa smiled. “I think it may be room service. I took the liberty of ordering for you.”

Minor rose and answered the door.

True enough, it was room service. Minor signed for it and closed the door.

“Would you like to taste my food first?” questioned Minor with a lackadaisical grin.

“Don’t worry,” replied Asa. “It’s not poisoned.” She pinched a strawberry and ate it. “At least not by me.”

She rose and put Minor’s gun on the bed. “You shouldn’t leave those things lying around. Never know who will pick them up. Someone might get hurt.”

Minor lifted the covers off the dishes. “You remembered what I like to have after a case.”

“Breakfast. Two eggs over easy, toast, stack of wheat pancakes with bacon and black coffee.” She started toward the door. “I’ll leave now. You need to eat before your eggs get cold.”

“So soon? Why did you come?”

“To let you know that I’m around.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“You wish. I’m just letting you know that I’m not the naïve, idealistic kid I once was. I know the score now.”

“Gee, you troubled yourself to come here to say that.”

Asa smiled. “I’ll be watching you, Minor.”

“It’s illegal to interfere with the investigation of a case or threaten a law enforcement officer. I could have you arrested, Asa.”

“Goodnight, Minor.”

“Wait. Wait!”

But Asa was gone.

When Minor opened the door to his room and looked into the hallway, there was no sign of his former wife.

“How in the hell did she get away so fast?” he mumbled to himself as he shut the door.

He should have realized that Asa would be nearby.

In fact, Asa was three doors down, watching Minor chow down his pancakes. “Good work, Boris.”

“It’s easy to plant hidden cameras.”

“He’ll probably search the room after he’s eaten and find them. He’s no dummy. Just keep tabs on Minor. I want to know everything he does.”

“Where’re you going?”

“I’ll get in touch when I’m needed. Minor has already called his boss to tell him I’m here. Within an hour, this hotel will be full of agents. Gotta go. I would advise you to do the same. You can watch him from anywhere.”

Boris knew better than to argue.

Asa went through a connecting door to the suite and quietly slipped out through another exit into the hallway.

Boris gathered his equipment and headed downstairs. As he was hurrying out through the kitchen, a black SUV pulled up in front of the hotel.

Four men in dark suits climbed out and hurried inside the Seelbach Hotel.

“W
hy did you have to see Minor, Asa?” I asked.

“I wanted to rattle his cage some.”

“And did you?”

Asa smiled as she looked over the cliff and across the river to the green rolling hills of Madison County. “Revenge is a tasty dish best served cold. However, I want to make him sweat a little bit first.”

“Revenge is mine, sayeth the Lord,” I quoted.

Asa finished the quote. “I will repay. In time their foot will slip; their day of disaster is near and their doom rushes upon them.”

“Whosoever smites thee on thy right cheek, turn to him the other also.”

Asa wistfully turned and looked at me. “Mom, you know my psych evaluation. I’m a sociopath. We don’t turn the other cheek.” She looked away from me. “We obliterate the threat.”

“M
s. Todd, you can sit here. Thank you for coming.”

Shaneika sat in the ATF office located in Louisville. “This is my lawyer, Richard Mandrake,” she announced.

“Do you need a lawyer?”

“I want to make sure that nothing I say is misquoted or taken out of context.”

“Can I offer you something to drink?”

Shaneika smiled. “No, and neither will my attorney have anything to drink or eat.”

“I notice that you are wearing gloves?”

“Any law against that?”

“No, but it makes one wonder.”

“Can we have your names and badge numbers, please?”

“Sure. I’m Agent Joseph Caperella and this is Agent Minor Reasor.” Both ATF men pulled out their badges and let Shaneika take a snapshot of them.

“Being overly cautious for an ‘innocent’ person, aren’t you?” questioned Agent Caperella, putting away his badge.

Shaneika placed a tiny tape recorder on the table and pushed the “on” button. “Let’s get this over, shall we?”

Agent Caperella shrugged while glancing at Minor. “Okay, let’s start.”

“Name and address for the record, please.”

Shaneika leaned across the table. “Let’s cut the formalities. Why am I sitting across the table from two ATF agents?”

“We are investigating the balloon explosion at the Kentucky Derby. The ATF always investigates high profile explosions.”

“Who owned the balloon and who was in it?” Shaneika demanded.

Minor shot back, “We ask the questions here. Not you.”

Shaneika leaned back against her chair. “You know fellows, there are all sorts of things wrong with this interview. Number one–it is rumored that Charlie Hoskins owned the balloon. Now Charlie didn’t have a lot of admirers. I would say that Charlie had lots of people holding a grudge or two against him. Out of all those people who didn’t like Charlie, you seem to be honing in on a black woman. Are you interrogating lots of white people as well or just little ol’ me?”

“This is not about race. This is about justice,” assured Joseph Caperella.

Shaneika snorted. “Like the Ruby Ridge case?”

Both men twitched at the mention of Ruby Ridge.

“We’re not here to discuss cases of the past. We’re here to discover the how and why of the balloon explosion over Churchill Downs.”

“Has the explosion been ruled as accidental?” asked Richard Mandrake, looking up from his notepad.

“We haven’t reached a conclusion yet.”

Shaneika started to say something, but Richard put his hand on her arm.

“So at the moment you don’t know if the balloon blew up due to human error, incompetence, equipment failure, or tampering?”

Minor stated, “We’re not saying where we are in this investigation.”

“Then let me state this for the official record. My client, Shaneika Mary Todd, had absolutely nothing to do with the balloon explosion near Churchill Downs, nor does she know of anyone that does.”

Agent Caperella started to interrupt but Richard Mandrake shut him down.

“Shush, shush. I’m not finished. We can prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that from Thursday night to Sunday, Shaneika Mary Todd was involved in Derby festivities. There are hundreds of witnesses plus video that will attest to that.

“Also, Agent Reasor, you shouldn’t have been assigned to this case as you have a negative association with two of Ms. Todd’s clients. Your superior should have known better than to send you. I am sure it was done intentionally, but it seriously compromises the case.

“I want you to know that tomorrow morning I am going to file a complaint with the Department of Justice. You all should know better. Really.”

Richard Mandrake stood and clasped his leather case shut. “Let’s go, Ms. Todd. We’ve said all we’re going to say at the moment.”

Minor stood and held open the door. “We’ll be seeing you,” he pledged to Shaneika. “You can count on that.”

“I better not, Agent Reasor. Ever,” retorted Shaneika.

Richard Mandrake put himself between Minor and Shaneika and escorted her out of the building.

Minor and Joseph sat down at the table. Joseph pulled out a cigarette.

“No smoking in a federal building,” reminded Minor.

“Like I give a shit,” replied Joseph, lighting up. “What are they going to do? Arrest me for smoking?”

Minor didn’t reply, but silently thought that he had made a mistake coming back to Kentucky.

“T
ell me why Shaneika got into it with Charlie at June’s Derby party,” solicited Asa, sitting at my Nakashima dining room table.

I had to think back. “It started last racing season. As you know the horses have to make so much money at certain stakes races in order to be contenders for the Derby. Well, in two of them Comanche ran against Persian Blue and won. Then Comanche started losing and losing badly.

“Shaneika called in Velvet Maddox, the dowser, and Velvet found that a sponge had been shoved up Comanche’s nose.”

“That could have killed Comanche!” exclaimed Asa, incensed at the cruelty.

“Exactly. Comanche couldn’t breathe properly and that’s the reason he lost the races.”

“What did Shaneika do?”

“Nothing. She couldn’t prove that it was Charlie’s doing, but Charlie was never one for keeping his ugly remarks to himself. He pissed many horse owners–not just Shaneika,” I replied.

“But why focus on Shaneika? Is it because she’s a black woman?”

I shook my head. “Oh, heavens no. It’s because Comanche is a descendant of Eclipse and Persian Blue is not.”

“Mom, I know that means something to you, but not to me.”

“Eclipse was a horse in the eighteenth-century who passed on a genetic mutation of a very large heart to his daughters. Comanche’s dam is from Eclipse’s line.”

Asa shrugged and looked inquiringly at me.

“Racehorses with extremely large hearts become champions because they can take in more oxygen while running. It improves their performance.

“During 1973 and 1974 Sham and Secretariat were two great Thoroughbreds competing against each other. Secretariat always won. His heart weighed twenty-two pounds while Sham’s weighed only eighteen. Secretariat could run faster because his heart was more efficient.”

“Surely there are other factors in a horse race.”

“Oh, sure,” I replied. “A horse has got to want to win, the jockey has to be good, but a very large ticker sure helps.”

“Sooooo, tell me about Charlie and Shaneika,” prodded Asa, cutting into a piece of strawberry-rhubarb pie Miss Eunice had made.

“I think Charlie was fearful of Comanche and since Charlie was Charlie, he was bent on unnerving Shaneika. She was an easy target. She was the only woman owner vying for the Derby this year. And she was mortgaged up to the hilt because of that horse.”

“So what did he do?”

“He had his employees make suggestive remarks when they passed Shaneika at the stables or workouts. They hung around Comanche’s stall to the point that Shaneika had to hire more people to guard Comanche 24/7. That’s expensive.”

Asa took a bite of the pie. “Oh, this is good pie.” She wiped her mouth. “The crust is so flaky. Getting back to Shaneika, why didn’t she file a complaint?”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full of food, dear. She did and nothing came of it. Finally, she had to install expensive cameras and recording equipment. It slacked off some, but not all.

“The coup de gras came on the night of June’s Derby party. Shaneika came with Mike Connor as her escort. They were having fun for once and really enjoying themselves. After all that hard work and sacrifice, Shaneika and Mike were finally relaxing.”

Having eaten her slice of strawberry-rhubarb pie, Asa cut another piece.

“Leave me some,” I complained.

Asa waved her fork. “Go on with the story.”