HORSES AND HEROIN (Romantic Mystery) (22 page)

“I’ll save you a seat,” Tami said.

“Don’t bother. I’m not very hungry,” Megan said, avoiding Tami’s gaze. “I need to practice switching my stick on the Equicizer.”

“You rode well today.” Tami lingered by the step. “Ramon said you were a natural, that you reminded him of someone. He asked if I knew your last name.”

“Really.” Megan forced a casual shrug, but her breath caught.

“I couldn’t remember though. Who uses last names around here?” Tami wrinkled her nose. “What is it again?”

“Spence.”

“Oh, right. Well anyway, he said you reminded him of Joey Collins. My last name is Tomlin,” Tami said. “Pretty cool, right? Tami Tomlin. Just like a movie star.”

“Yes, that’s a very cool name.” Megan’s gaze shot toward the open door of the exercise room. Eve sat on a stationary bike, leaning over the bars, barely moving the pedals. She’d made a similar comment about Megan’s resemblance to Joey. Was it really obvious?

“Look, I need to ask a favor,” Tami added, shifting her feet. “Could you find something to do after supper? You know, so Miguel and I can have a little privacy. We can’t go to Ramon’s, and Miguel’s getting…impatient.” Her smile looked forced.

“Tami, you don’t have to sleep with him,” Megan whispered, lowering her voice so a passing student couldn’t hear. “Not unless you want to.”

“Sleep? God, you’re such a dinosaur.” Tami gave an exaggerated eye roll. “It’s called sex. And of course I want to. Every girl here is hot for him. I just need you to stay away for a while. It shouldn’t be a biggie.” She blew out a frustrated sigh. “Man, it sucks to have a roommate.” She flounced toward the cafeteria and yanked open the door.

Megan jammed her hands in her pockets and sighed. Miguel was a manipulative asshole. No doubt, he’d deliberately flirted with that other jockey, just to yank Tami’s chain. It was sad that his pathetic ploy worked. Maybe girls did like him—they certainly flocked around him—but she couldn’t understand the attraction.

He was spoiled, arrogant and rough with horses. Rough with horses, rough with women. Many of those old sayings were grounded in truth.

Eve swung off the exercise bike and impatiently gestured toward the back exit. Megan shoved aside her misgivings and hurried around the building. She had enough to worry about, and they didn’t have much time. Lydia usually left the cafeteria immediately following announcements.

That gave forty-five minutes, max. Easy enough. But a trickle of perspiration slid between her breasts, and her forehead was sticky. She swiped it with the back of her hand, but it was impossible to wipe away her nervousness.

Sneaking into Lydia’s villa. It had sounded easy earlier in the day, but the reality was daunting.

She squeaked in surprise when Eve popped up in front of her.

“Let’s hurry,” Eve said with a determined smile. “Ramon’s in the cafeteria too so we should be good.”

“Perfect,” Megan managed.

They hurried down the dirt path that cut behind the cafeteria, their steps quickening until they were almost running.

Eve patted her pocket. “Make sure you put your phone on vibrate.”

“I already did,” Megan whispered back, even though it was suppertime and the winding path was empty of listeners. Garrett and Scott were the only two who didn’t frequent the cafeteria, probably because they had special ordering privileges. The two buddies at the top.

And now Scott was hunting Joey. For Garrett.

She squashed her pang of betrayal and concentrated instead on Lydia’s villa. She had to be alert, not distracted by thoughts of Scott.

“You wait by this tree,” she said, “where you can watch the path. If you see Lydia, text me.”

“I don’t mind going in—”

“No,” Megan said sharply. “There’s no reason for both of us to get caught. I’m not the one who wants a riding career.”

She turned and followed the graveled walkway. Pebbles rattled beneath her boots. She slowed, trying to control the noise. And her nerves.

On second thought, maybe it was best to act natural. Squaring her shoulders, she strode up the pathway and rapped boldly on the door. No answer, of course. She glanced over her shoulder, reassured by Eve’s encouraging nod. There was no security panel, not like the elaborate system at Scott’s villa, so she sucked in a resolute breath and turned the knob.

The door didn’t open.

She twisted harder, then pressed her shoulder against the door and shoved. It didn’t budge. Damn. She’d assumed it wouldn’t be locked. Lydia must be following Scott’s totally crazy edict about securing doors.

Eve was barely visible now, squatting beneath a giant avocado tree. Megan pointed to the side of the villa and eased around the corner.

The rear door backed onto a brick patio with a yard vastly different from Scott’s. No pool or hot tub, merely a patch of struggling grass and a barbecue with a ripped cover. She stepped over some fallen palm trees, curled and crispy brown with decay, and pulled at the sliding door.

It didn’t move.

She yanked harder but the door didn’t budge. She groaned. Trust Lydia to follow Scott’s orders. But it must be inconvenient. No one liked a sharp key stuck in their pocket, and Lydia always wore tourniquet-tight pants. The students in Megan’s dorm had shrugged and simply tossed their keys in the large planter at the end of the hall. It was much simpler to hide a key than carry it around the barn and risk losing it.

Brightening, she rushed back to the front of the villa and lifted the doormat. And there it was, a silver key glinting up at her. She gave a thumbs-up to Eve, pushed the key in the lock and opened the front door.

She paused in the hall, debating if she should remove her boots, then gave her head a shake and merely brushed them off on the inside mat. They weren’t dirty anyway.

She started with the bathroom, opening drawers and checking the medicine cabinets. Some expired antidepressants, two types of diuretics and a guaranteed tooth whitener. Nothing odd or illegal.

She moved into the TV room, checking the coffee table and even pulling up the sofa cushions, not even sure what she was looking for. The stack of notes and magazines were related to horses and education. There was nothing specific about Mexico. Or Joey.

Lydia was meticulously neat although there were some redeeming dust bunnies beneath the sofa. Her life seemed fairly boring, but a well-stocked wine rack suggested she did enjoy her wine.

Megan checked her watch. Seven minutes. This wasn’t so scary.

More confident now, she strolled down the hall and into the main bedroom. The double bed was made as tightly as a marine’s, and she fought her impulse to check it with a coin toss. She scanned the closet and the bedside table but balked at rifling through Lydia’s underwear.

She moved through the door and into the spare bedroom. Lydia obviously didn’t anticipate any guests. The room had been converted to an office, stark and bare except for a cheap computer desk. The walls, however, were plastered with pictures. Megan edged closer, her eyes widening at the display.

‘Groom of the Week at Del Mar.’ ‘Apprentice Jockey Scores First Win,’ ‘Fighting the Odds.’ The coverage was extensive. Lydia obviously followed the careers of every student, even the man who’d ended up as a pari-mutuel clerk. Five students had written thank you notes, pitifully few considering the number of grads, but those were tacked on the wall in a place of honor.

Nothing about Joey. He hadn’t had time to make the grad wall.

A bag of golf clubs sat in the corner. She stepped closer, studying the heads. No obvious blood. She rubbed her finger over the ends. Dust or hair? She wasn’t certain. It seemed inconceivable that Lydia could club a dog, not considering how much she loved horses. But still…

Squaring her shoulders, Megan turned toward the computer.

Sonofabitch.

She stiffened, then charged forward and yanked off the cord connecting Joey’s iPod to the computer. Unbelievable. Lydia had raised such a stink about the iPod going to his family but hadn’t even bothered to return it. Instead was callously enjoying his music.

Megan shoved the iPod into her pocket, shaking her head in disgust. At least this visit had produced something.

She stomped back down the hall and checked the path through the front window. Eve sat on the ground, her lower back resting against the tree, arms clutched around her knees. She looked anxious but wasn’t using her phone. Not yet.

Megan opened the front door, locked it, then carefully replaced the key under the mat. She jogged back to Eve.

“Find anything?” Eve asked, her eyes anxious.

“No sign of drugs. Nothing about Mexico or the Baja Tinda.” Megan patted her pocket. “But I did get Joey’s iPod back.”

“It was there?” Eve’s eyes widened. “I thought she mailed it?”

“Guess it had some songs she really liked,” Megan said dryly. “So, what should we do now? Still want to go to town?”

“Definitely. I need to buy some stuff and I’m tired of tofu. Just thinking of a hamburger makes me drool.”

Megan glanced sideways, unable to block a visual of Eve gripping the toilet bowl and barfing a burger. It must be hellish for jockeys, knowing over-weights were announced to the world. Maybe Scott’s class would really help people like Eve. “Did Joey battle his weight while he was here?” she asked, struggling to keep the sympathy from her voice.

“No.” Eve gave a wistful smile. “He could consume way more calories than me. He spent a lot of time in the exercise room, jogged every morning. He tried to get me to join him, but it was way too early.”

“He was on the school cross country team,” Megan said. And a star on the juvie soccer team. But Joey never talked about his time at the institution.

“He told me how the juvies beat the local cops.” Eve smiled and for a moment looked almost happy. “He said the food at reform school was way better than here.”

“Wow. He told you those details?”

“Yes, and said you never gave up on him. You were his best friend.”

Megan stared at Eve, her throat thickening, realizing this girl had been exceedingly special to Joey. And that maybe she had been a pretty good sister too.

She reached out, linking Eve’s arm with hers, and they continued down the path, their voices mingling as they shared family secrets.

***

Megan shifted in the driver’s seat, her discomfort growing. She wasn’t used to greasy food, and the fries and hamburger, though delicious an hour ago, now sat in her stomach like a brick. Despite feeling slightly ill, it had been a lovely evening, sharing memories of Joey with someone else who had loved him.

But now she was eager to return to the school. She’d promised Scott she’d be back by nine.

She peered through the window, trying to see into the drug store. A customer, much too tall to be Eve, stood in the checkout line. Eve had said she wanted to run in and pick up a few things, but perhaps she was really searching for a bathroom.

Megan sighed and tapped her fingers on the steering wheel, grateful Tami wasn’t a jockey. It was less distressing to room with someone who enjoyed chocolate than to agonize about someone wrapped around the toilet bowl. And Tami was so young, so impressionable. Despite Megan’s firm policy not to get involved, it was hard not to worry about her roommate. At least tonight Tami would be happy that Megan had given her some privacy.

Tami might appreciate more chocolate too. Sales had been steady and their current stash was running low. It could take her mind off Miguel and his little mind games. Megan didn’t intend to poke her nose in Tami’s affairs, no way, but it wouldn’t hurt to cheer her up with a little gift. She grabbed her purse and slid from the truck.

A bell jangled above the doorway announcing her entry in the store. She grabbed a plastic basket and filled it with an assortment of bars. She and Tami liked Crispy Crunch, Peter preferred Mars Bars—she didn’t pick up any Snickers for Miguel.

She walked to the counter with her basket, relieved Eve was the only person in line. They’d be home in twenty minutes.

Eve saw Megan and flinched. Her gaze darted to a pink box on the counter.

“I just wanted—” Megan’s words mired in her throat when she recognized the pregnancy kit.

Eve squared her shoulders and paid the cashier without looking at Megan.

“Anything else?”

Megan blinked, realizing the cashier was talking to her. She fumbled in her purse and somehow paid for the chocolate.

She followed Eve to the truck, her legs wooden. Neither girl spoke as they settled in their seats.

“So that’s why you threw up,” Megan said. “Oh, Eve.” She leaned over and hugged her, feeling Eve’s physical struggle for composure.

“I’m pretty sure I’m p-pregnant,” Eve choked. “But I need to know for sure. That’s why I needed to go to town.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know.”

The misery in her voice made Megan’s eyes prick, and she averted her gaze. Eve needed someone strong, not a blubbering idiot. “I can help,” Megan said, “in whatever way you want. I have some money too. Just let me know—” But her throat constricted and she gripped the wheel, struggling to find some semblance of control.

Joey’s baby. God, she wanted it in her world. She wanted it so badly.

“I want to ride, not take time off for a pregnancy,” Eve said, her voice so low it was barely discernable. “And Joey’s gone. So I’m leaning towards…well, you know.”

Megan’s fingers gripped the steering wheel. “I guess the first step is to take the test,” she said, her voice surprisingly even. “Find out for sure. Did Joey know?”

“We knew I was late, but we weren’t certain. That’s why, well I knew he wasn’t the type to run off.”

“No.” Megan pried her hands off the wheel. “Of course he wouldn’t. Do you need a bottle of water? Some juice?” She scanned the stores. “Let’s find a bathroom.”

“No.” Eve’s voice firmed. “I want to go home.”

“But don’t you want to know?”

“What I want is to be alone.”

It was a quiet drive. Eve spoke in monosyllables, her face shadowed in the dark while Megan drove on autopilot, battered by a flood of emotions, teetering from ragged despair to the optimistic hope of new life.