Pies and Prejudice (32 page)

She stepped into the Wicket and was greeted by a delightful waft of cold air and the smell of hops. The bar was empty save for an older man in a tattered baseball cap nursing a tumbler of whiskey.

“What’ll it be?” the barkeep asked.

“A whiskey daisy,” Ella Mae answered. “And could you turn the volume up on the TV, please?”

The man, whose face was covered with a grisly beard and eyebrows resembling black tumbleweeds, paused in the act of pouring Wild Turkey into a shot glass and adjusted the volume. Ella Mae listened, fascinated, as ESPN reported on the charges brought against the Malones, the Hollowells, and a dozen other thoroughbred farms in Georgia and eastern Tennessee.

“Bradford really racked up the mileage,” Ella Mae mused quietly and then smiled at the bartender as he served her drink. The cocktail, a blend of whiskey, lemon juice, grenadine, and soda, was sweet and refreshing. She drank it eagerly, absorbed in ESPN’s coverage.

She listened raptly as the anchorman explained that the police in Havenwood, a bucolic town in northwest Georgia, had discovered a detailed list of horse farm owners who’d purchased cobra venom from veterinarian Bradford Knox at least once over the past six months. Ella Mae was shocked to learn that not only had thoroughbreds been subjected to doping, but a host of quarter horses as well. The list included the date of purchase, the amount of venom delivered, and the method of payment. In some cases, the foolish owners
had paid Knox by check, creating a paper trail that would be difficult to dispute.

The camera switched views, zooming in on a grim-faced man in a well-cut suit. The caption identified him as Mike Hegarty, the executive director of the Georgia Horse Racing Commission. He issued a brief statement, asserting that both his counterpart in Tennessee and the governor of Georgia were personally investigating the allegations.

“It is not a crime to possess cobra venom,” he stated with a small shake of his head, as if someone had made a big mistake by not making the substance illegal. “But it is a felony to inject it into a racehorse. We will charge anyone found guilty of this action with a felony per animal based on the crime of interfering with a domestic animal or race fixing or both. Guilty parties may face prison sentences.”

An equine vet from Kentucky was given thirty seconds to explain how cobra venom could be administered and its usefulness as a painkiller. After another series of commercials, the coverage concluded with a quick statement from an agent from the Federal Bureau of Narcotics. He tersely stated that Uraeus Pharmaceuticals had cooperated fully with authorities, and because they’d shipped legal goods to a licensed veterinarian, the company would not face criminal charges.

The final sound bite was provided by a tearful young woman who claimed to have seen one of her family’s thoroughbreds injected by their trainer shortly before a race. The horse won the day and a handsome prize purse and then collapsed a few hundred yards past the finish line, injured beyond the point of treatment. As soon as the stands had cleared of spectators, the magnificent animal was put down.

Ella Mae’s eyes grew moist as she listened to the anguish in the young girl’s voice.

“Don’t worry, gal, the two crooks responsible for that are behind bars right here in Havenwood,” said the man in the baseball hat.

“Yes, I know,” Ella Mae replied. “Hopefully, there’ll be an end to such abuse.”

The man grunted in assent, picked up his drink, and toasted her with his glass. “Same color as your hair, darlin’. Here’s to you. And to those scumbags gettin’ what they deserve.”

Ella Mae saluted him in return. “I’ll drink to that.”

Three whiskey daises later, Ella Mae got back on her bike and rode in a rather wobbly fashion to Canine to Five. She collected Chewy and then, showing a marked lack in judgment, headed for the second of Loralyn’s two nail salons, Perfectly Polished Too.

As was typical during the warmer months, all the parking spots on Painted Lady Avenue were occupied and someone had even parked in the loading zone directly in front of the salon. Ella Mae took a moment to examine the lipstick red convertible.

“We don’t see many of these babies in Toronto,” said a man wearing a fanny pack and a Blue Jays T-shirt. “Guess some hotshot wanted to drive around a town whose streets are all named after butterfly species, eh?”

Ella Mae walked to the back of the car, keeping Chewy on a tight leash so he couldn’t jump up and scratch the shiny red paint. Glancing at the Georgia vanity plate, which read SIREN in bold block letters, she grinned wryly at the tourist and said, “This little gem belongs to a local. A woman.”

The tourist whistled in admiration. “She must be doing something right.”

Eyes narrowing, Ella Mae thought of the missing bearer bonds. This thought was quickly replaced by the image of Annie Beaufort riding out of the woods at Respite Ranch, her face aglow with purpose and contentment. “She’s about to,” Ella Mae said and, filled with a simmering rage, breezed by the befuddled man and entered Loralyn’s salon.

“May I help you?” a petite brunette inquired as soon as the door shut behind Ella Mae. The girl then spotted Chewy and frowned. “We don’t allow dogs in here.”

Having never been inside either of Loralyn’s salons, Ella Mae discovered that they offered more than manicure and pedicure services. According to the menu board, the nail technicians were also trained to give facials, massages, and a variety of tortuous waxing procedures. She was amazed to see that clients occupied every chair and three more women were flipping through fashion magazines in the waiting area. The popularity of the business explained why Loralyn wanted to open a tanning salon.

“I have an urgent message to deliver to Loralyn,” Ella Mae told the girl manning the front desk. “If she doesn’t get it right away, she will be
very
upset.”

This gave the young woman pause. Apparently, upsetting her employer resulted in serious consequences. “You can’t go back now. She’s testing out a new massage therapist who specializes in hot stone massage and you’ll have to wait until she’s done.” Recovering her poise, she pointed at the door. “And your dog needs to go outside. Now.”

Being bossed around by the pint-sized, twentysomething brunette stirred Ella Mae’s smoldering anger, igniting it into something red, orange, and palpable. “He stays with me,” she said, the slight slurring of her words making her sound unstable. “And we’re going back now. If you have a problem with that, then you’re welcome to try to stop us.”

The young woman gaped at her, openmouthed, and then chose to pretend Ella Mae didn’t exist. She blithely called out the name of one of the waiting clients and directed her to a vacant pedicure chair.

The spa rooms had been given ridiculous names like Oasis, Shangri-La, and Xanadu. It was easy to determine Loralyn’s location, for Ella Mae could hear her remonstrating with the new technician from the other side of Shangri-La’s closed door.

“Those are too hot!” Loralyn shouted. “There’s a difference between warming the muscles and giving our clients first-degree burns.”

Ella Mae didn’t bother knocking. She turned the knob, pushed open the door, and pointed at the masseuse, a fresh-faced girl of eighteen or nineteen. “Out!” she commanded in a tone that echoed Verena’s in volume and authority.

The girl fled. Ella Mae’s next orders were directed at Chewy. She told him to sit and stay and then she locked the door while Loralyn tried to flip over onto her back without losing hold of her towel. Ella Mae smiled. Her nemesis looked like a flounder in the bottom of a fisherman’s pail.

“Nice car,” Ella Mae said, sitting in the technician’s stool as if she had every right to be there.

Loralyn’s eyes flashed but she rapidly gained control over her emotions. “Do you like it? It’s a small step above the little ten-speed you’ve been pedaling around town. Did you forget how to drive while you were in New York?”

Unfazed by Loralyn’s patronizing tone, Ella Mae made a sympathetic noise. “Maybe you should consider how to spend your latest windfall. After all, the bearer bonds you stole belong to Chandler Knox.”

“How do you figure?” Loralyn widened her eyes in affront. “Except for Bradford and maybe a few of the fine people at Uraeus Pharmaceuticals, I’m the only one who’s actually worked for that money. I wasted valuable months with Knox. I even agreed to marry him if he would stick with my plan. All he had to do was take advantage of my family connections to sell that lovely reptilian product to area horse farms, but he got cold feet. I didn’t even get the tanning salon he’d promised me as proof of his willingness to follow my lead.” She pouted. “After this I am only pursuing men with no children. Knox was so wrapped around Ashleigh’s finger that he couldn’t think straight.”

Ella Mae was tempted to shake the smugness out of Loralyn. She clenched her hands to keep them still. “Go on.
Admit that you told Knox to put the bearer bonds in the rolling pin and then you switched that pin with the one from my mother’s kitchen—that you went through all that just to get me to leave town.”

Loralyn shrugged and examined her nails. “It was a two-birds, one-stone kind of thing. My darling fiancé didn’t want to go on with the doping scheme so I needed to break it off with him. I figured I might as well collect some cash for the months I’d worked talking him up to the bigwigs in the equestrian world. Ashleigh thinks she was responsible for that, but it was all my doing. As if anyone would listen to some no-name housewife from Atlanta. Old names and old money are what make the horse world go round, and our farm has been rising in prominence since the turn of the century.” She sighed. “Now that you’ve interrupted a perfectly unimpressive massage, I might as well get dressed.”

Standing, she locked eyes with Ella Mae and dropped her towel to the floor. She paused a moment, giving Ella Mae ample time to gaze at her swimsuit-model body before slowly drawing on a cloud white robe. Chewy growled lowly and Loralyn curled her lip and growled right back at him.

“It’s all right,” Ella Mae reassured her dog.

Loralyn rolled her eyes. “As for scaring you off, view my warning as a favor. You don’t belong in Havenwood. Not anymore. You’ve been gone far too long and we don’t care for outsiders.”

“Who’s ‘we’?”

Pulling off the elastic holding her hair in place, Loralyn shook out her locks. They cascaded down her shoulders and back like a golden waterfall. “My family,” she answered tersely.

Ella Mae frowned. “Don’t play coy. I bet you stuck that paper boat in my mail slot too, but I’m still here.”

“That was a neat trick, wasn’t it?” Loralyn’s voice was giddy with pride. “The paper was as dry as the skin on your elbows. A few minutes in the oven and it was as good as
new. And I can’t believe you ripped up Sloan’s check. You should have taken it—used the funds to pay for therapy sessions or, at the very least, some new footwear. Only professional athletes wear sneakers every day of the week, and you couldn’t even pass the presidential fitness tests in grade school. Weak. You’ve always been weak.”

Again, Ella Mae fought back the urge to strike Loralyn. How wonderful it would feel to just slap her once on the cheek. Once. Hard enough to leave a mark on the skin.

As if reading Ella Mae’s mind, Loralyn examined her face in the closest mirror. “Anything else?” Her tone was meant to convey boredom. “I need to head over to my other salon and see how the restoration work is coming along. The fire was an unpleasant event, but in the end, that Dirk fellow got rid of Knox more efficiently than I could ever dream of doing. I’d only counted on a permanent falling out between Ashleigh and her dear daddy after he refused to pay up. I never thought she’d let him roast like a pig on a spit. Very poor taste, that.”

Ella Mae made a noise of disgust, but Loralyn continued before she could be interrupted.

“I knew that Ashleigh was going to torch my salon. I’ve been bribing her housekeeper for months. She’s been listening to Ashleigh’s phone calls and was able to share several juicy tidbits with me. Including the arson plans. Frankly, I was delighted. Now I get to buy all new equipment with the insurance money and the story alone will have women lining up around the block.”

“You haven’t changed.” Ella Mae seethed. “You’re still the twisted narcissist you were when we were kids. A man
died
, Loralyn. Annie Beaufort
died
. These were not accidents. These people were
murdered
.”

Loralyn rolled her eyes. “Spare me the drama. Annie might have been innocent, but Bradford wasn’t. He knew the risks of supplying competing horse farms with cobra venom.” She smiled coldly, her eyes dark with malicious
satisfaction. “It’s all worked out splendidly for Gaynor Farms. We’re one of the few places in northern Georgia without a stained reputation. Imagine how profitable these unfortunate events will be for my family.”

Ella Mae was struck dumb. Why hadn’t she considered the effect the downfall of a dozen competing thoroughbred stables would have on the Gaynors’ horse farm? That had been Loralyn’s scheme from the start. Bradford Knox had no idea that he was engaged to such a duplicitous woman. All the while she was recommending his services to horse owners around the area and convincing him to administer cobra venom, she was setting Knox and the other horse farms up for ruination.

“How did you get my rolling pin into the salon before the police came?” she asked to cover up her stupidity. “You were in Atlanta when the fire began.”

Loralyn opened the door and shooed off the young technician cowering in the hall. “I have many talents, Ella Mae. One of them is my ability to seduce men. Including men with big hoses.” She raised her brows at the lewd suggestion.

“Hugh?” Ella Mae could barely speak his name. The air felt too thin to breathe.

“Such a beautiful creature,” Loralyn spoke wistfully. “But far too easy to manipulate. No challenge at all. If you’re interested in Hugh, go for it. He falls for the damsel-in-distress routine every time.” Removing a white Rolex from her robe pocket, she slipped in onto her wrist, fastened it, and sighed. “Now unless you plan on having your nails done, and Lord knows they could use some attention, you need to run along, Ella Mae. I have a future husband to research.”