The Michaela Bancroft Mysteries 1-3 (59 page)
Read The Michaela Bancroft Mysteries 1-3 Online
Authors: Michele Scott
As for Camden, Michaela located her in the kitchen
preparing dinner. When Camden spotted her, she gave her a hug. "You are
one crazy bitch, you know that?"
That morning, Joe had come over and they replayed
everything for Camden and Dwayne. "I know."
"You have got to stop tracking down killers.
It's not healthy for you."
Michaela laughed. "I guess not."
"Jude has been calling here all day. All week
in fact. He knows about what happened and he's worried. The guy really cares
about you. You need to call him."
Michaela nodded. She supposed that she would have
to do that, but not now.
The doorbell rang and Michaela looked at Camden.
"I have no clue," her friend said.
Michaela opened the door; Ethan stood on the other
side. "Hey, what's up?"
He beamed. "I was on my way here to tell you
some great news, but I have to rush, because I just got more great news."
"What's going on?"
"Real quick. First of all, Halliday looks to
be out of the woods. It'll be some time yet before you can bring him
home."
"What do you mean, before I can bring him
home?"
"He's yours. Kathleen Bowen called the center
and said that she was giving the horse to you. That you should have him.
Gratis. She said that she felt she had a lot to make amends for. I didn't ask."
"No kidding? What about his expenses?"
"No kidding. Yeah that part, well she did say
that she'd cover half, if you would pay the other half."
Michaela laughed. "Of course she did. I'll
take the horse." Maybe Kathleen would make wiser decisions when it came to
money after all.
"And guess what else?" Ethan said.
"What?"
"I just got a call from Summer. She's been
out shopping and she started contractions. Our baby is going to be born
today!" he practically yelped. "I'm on my way to the hospital."
"That's great, Ethan. Really great."
"I can't wait."
"Well, what are you doing waiting around here
then? You better get going."
"Right." He gave her a quick hug.
"I'll call you later."
"You better," she yelled after him.
Camden came up beside Michaela and put an arm
around her as she watched Ethan drive away, tears in her eyes. "Let him
go, honey. Let him go. It's time." Michaela nodded.
The phone rang. "Will you get that?" she
said.
A few seconds later, as Michaela still stood in
the doorway; dust from Ethan's truck settling back down onto the ground, Camden
reappeared and handed the phone to her. "For you."
She brought it up to her ear. "Please don't
hang up." It was Jude. "Look, I'm not calling to lecture or anything
like that. I'm calling to apologize. I know what Garcia told you. After your
message canceling our date, I started investigating. I knew Garcia was up to no
good. She's tried to get me to go out with her since she started here, even
accused me of sexual harassment when I told her no thank you. She found another
way to get at me, though: through you. That's it. That's all. I swear."
Michaela didn't respond.
"Michaela?"
"Yes."
"You have to believe me."
She sighed and leaned against the doorway.
"You know what, I do believe you."
"Good, so can we have dinner together?"
She paused. "Yes." She remembered what
Joe had told her about living half-assed and decided that he was right.
"Yes? Thank you. I am sorry…" Michaela
heard him talking to someone else. "She said yes." Michaela heard
Katie whoop in the background. "Sorry, but my daughter has missed you,
too."
Michaela couldn't help but smile as she heard the
joy in Jude's voice, recalled his kiss, and listened to Katie's laughter. Her
bittersweet tears dried on her face.
I hope you've enjoyed "Death Reins
In," as much as I enjoyed writing it. I have a passion for horses and since I
was five-years-old they've been a huge part of my life. My other passion in
life (besides my wonderful family) is my writing. As an author of fiction
works, I am fortunate to be able to take fictional liberties. For instance,
it's not every day that someone stumbles onto a dead body (at least, I hope
not), and for poor Michaela this is now becoming a frequent situation. I am
also aware that jockeys and horse trainers are professionals and passionate
about the animals. Therefore, it is my desire that no one in the professional
equine trade was offended by the fictional liberties that I took with this
book. It is my hope that all who read the book had a good time with it and were
entertained, and will come back for the third book in the series. Any and all
mistakes, I take full responsibility for.
Thank You and Happy Trails!
A.K. Alexander
Tacked to Death
A.K. Alexander
D'Vine Press
San Diego, Ca U.S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and
incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used
fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business
establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does
not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or
third-party websites or their content.
Copyright © 2008 by Michele Scott.
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or
distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not
participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the
author's rights.
ONE
THE MAN STANDING ACROSS FROM MICHAELA Bancroft gave her the creeps. Sterling Taber was handsome by most women's standards: He had that tall-and-dark thing going on with brooding brown—almost black—eyes, his cheekbones were something Michelangelo would have been proud to sculpt, and his longish black hair hung slightly in front of his eyes. He'd been voted Coachella Valley's most eligible bachelor and Michaela had heard the word
mysterious
used in regard to him. Her word was
repulsive
.
Sterling set the ropes on the glass-topped case, which inside held equestrian-related jewelry and various sets of spurs and silver belt buckles. Michaela and her friend Camden had recently delved into the venture of owning and running a tack store. Today was not only opening day, but Camden had convinced Michaela that an accompanying fashion show and charity polo match would make this an opening to remember, an
event
even.
"So, isn't it true that you rope?" Sterling asked.
"No. I rein." If he'd listened at all to her in the past few months, he would've known exactly what Michaela did. She'd spent plenty of time around Sterling as of late. He was one of the bigwigs on the polo team, and in less than an hour she'd be on the field playing against him in the charity event.
"That's right. Reiner. You look pretty good up on a polo pony. Good technique." He fiddled with the ropes. "I like watching the ropers. Real cowboys, those guys."
"Yes, they have great technique." Michaela narrowed her eyes, wishing he'd buy the ropes and get on with it.
"You plan on continuing with polo when this thing is over?"
She almost laughed at the thought. "No. It's been fun and hopefully we raise a lot of money for the autistic riding center, but I don't plan to continue."
He snapped his fingers and pointed at her. "Right. You run that place. That handicapped riding place."
She nodded. "It's for kids with autism."
"Handicapped" was not really how she saw the kids with whom she worked. They had special needs, sure, but they were capable, loving children, and just the way he'd said the word
handicapped
, as if it were a bad one, bothered her. Again, if he'd taken the time to listen when they'd had meetings regarding today's event he'd be on top of it, but she got the feeling that he knew all this already. If anything, he enjoyed this head game she felt he was playing with her. She sighed.
"You sure do look good up there on those ponies," he said again.
"Thanks. But I can't afford polo and it's pretty rough." Granted, Michaela had inherited a large sum of money and her uncle's ranch when he was killed, but much of it was tied up in the ranch, establishing her center for the kids, and now in the tack shop that Camden promised she'd run, since Michaela was already busy with plenty of commitments. "Speaking of polo, we should probably hurry up. You want to buy these?" She wasn't sure what Sterling needed a set of ropes for. He wasn't exactly the rugged cowboy type. She was trying hard to be nice, silently reminding herself that this was a business she and Camden were running and he was a paying customer.
Sterling leaned against the counter and folded his arms. A large diamond in a ring on his finger caught her eye. It was on his right hand, and for some reason it only annoyed Michaela even further that he was there. Show-off. He winked at her. "You bet. I've got some plans with these. You know that there are other things that ropes can be used for besides steers." He winked at her, held up the ropes, and set them back down.
She didn't comment. She picked the ropes up off the counter and scanned the price into the computer. Sterling handed her a credit card and she slid it through. It came back denied. She put it through again—still denied.
"Is there a problem?" he asked.
"Do you have another card?"
"Why?"
She felt her face flush. "This one's been denied."
"That couldn't be. Put it through again."
"I put it through twice already."
"You did it wrong then."
"No, I didn't."
"The card is fine. I own nine polo ponies; I think my card works. It's your machine."
From the back room, where the office and kitchen were located, Michaela heard raised voices. She recognized them immediately and knew she needed to put out a fire, because the two who were arguing were not exactly the most amicable of personalities. She tossed Sterling the ropes. "Here, take them. They're yours." She was done dealing with him.
She started out from behind the counter as a smug smile spread across his face. "See you on the field. I'm looking forward to it."
She walked quickly past him feeling like she'd just seen a cockroach crawl across the floor.
Michaela found the cause of the commotion in the kitchen.
"Oh no, no, no! I don't want spaghetti, Pepe. You can't do this to me!" Camden tossed her copper-colored tresses behind her shoulders and screamed at the rotund, older Italian man. He appeared to be matching her temper for temper, with his arms crossed and a look on his face that said he didn't care one iota about Camden's complaints
"You promised me that we would have veal scaloppine and chicken parmigiana. You said it wouldn't be a problem. I could kill you for this! Do you know how many people are coming to this event? I can't believe I already paid you up front!"
Michaela watched Camden's face contort with rage. Next to Pepe Sorvino stood his twenty-year-old daughter, Lucia. It was hard not to notice that Lucia turned heads when she entered a room with her pale green eyes, long, wavy dark hair and voluptuous body—a young Sophia Loren in the making. She stood about Michaela's height at five feet six inches and she could see by the fire in the young woman's eyes that she was about to explode, along with her father.
"You didn't pay my father enough. Not for all these people."
"Wait a minute," Michaela interrupted. "What's the problem?" They would need to get it solved sooner rather than later. Sorvino's was catering the Sunday afternoon event, and people would be arriving shortly expecting hors d'oeuvres and champagne while they watched the polo match and a catered lunch during the fashion show.
"The problem is," Camden shouted, "these two are trying to rip us off."
Lucia took an aggressive step toward Camden. "Whatever. I don't think so. You're a cheap ass. That's the problem."
Camden pulled an arm back. Michaela grabbed it before she had a chance to swing.
"Did you see that?" Pepe said, his Italian accent growing thicker in line with his anger.
Michaela placed a hand on Camden's shoulder. "Why don't you take a breather? Let me work this out."
Camden held up a finger, her face the color of her hair. Michaela shook her head at her best friend, and then nodded her toward the front door. Camden glared at Pepe and his daughter, but heeded Michaela's advice and left. "Go see Dwayne," Michaela suggested, knowing that her assistant trainer and Camden's fiancé was helping set up the tables for the lunch outside. If anyone could calm her down it would be him, with his Hawaiian philosophy and mellow attitude.
"I cannot work with her. She's crazy. You see how she yelling at me, and swearing at me, she saying she gonna kill me!" Pepe took his index finger and made the loopy sign around the side of his head. "Crazy!"
