Blades of Bluegrass

by D. Jackson Leigh

  “That’s him wearing the yellow golf shirt,” the receptionist said, sliding quietly back into her chair.

  Teddy almost laughed. This day had been an emotional roller coaster, and now she felt like she was in a bad spy movie. Maybe she was dreaming, and she’d wake up in bed next to Britt’s sexy body and start the day all over again, happy. No. Euphoric. She sighed. In love. Why couldn’t she just let go and enjoy it?

  “Lieutenant Theodora Alexander?”

  “Yes.”

  The man held out an envelope. “You’ve been served.”

  Teddy reflexively took the envelope, staring at it while the man turned and headed for the hospital entrance. She shook her head and ran after him. “Wait.” When she caught up with him, she grabbed his arm. “Just wait a minute. Do I have to sign something?”

  He cocked his head for a second. “No. You just have to show up.”

  “Show up for what?”

  He stared at her, then spoke like he was talking to a child. “For court. It’s a subpoena.”

  “Really?” She narrowed her eyes and imagined them emitting a laser ray that burned his eyebrows off. “It’s not my fault I’ve lived an exemplary life and never been arrested or hauled into court to testify about anything. I have no idea what this could be about.”

  “Look. I just get paid to track people down and deliver these things. You can’t imagine how hard that can be. I’ve been stalking you for three weeks.” He pointed at the hospital. “All your buddies in there would say was that you were on special assignment. I finally got a call from your landlady this morning to let me know she’d seen you leaving your apartment earlier in uniform so you might be here.”

  “My sweet old landlady gave me up?”

  “I might have insinuated that she’d be in big trouble if she was harboring a fugitive.”

  “Oh my God. Now she’s going to think I’m a criminal. Thanks a lot.”

  “I do what I gotta do. Besides, I don’t know what’s in there either. Maybe you are a criminal. Maybe you’re being subpoenaed to testify in a big mob trial or something. You gotta open it to find out.”

  Teddy glared at him but slid her fingernail under the sealed flap to pry it loose, then unfolded the documents inside. She scanned them quickly, then folded them back into the envelope when she realized her confessed stalker had edged closer in an attempt to read over her shoulder.

  “Damn. They must have found out about the guy in Alabama. I guess that bear decided he smelled too bad to eat much of him. I should have gone ahead and put him through the wood chipper. But I was wearing a new outfit that I really liked, and wood chippers can be so messy. My handler is going to give me some real shit over this one. Might was well grab the go-bag. I’m sure the army will make me go dark in some Middle East sandpit until this blows over.”

  She turned back to her stalker, but he was gone. Not a yellow shirt in sight.

  * * *

  Britt tugged at the neck of her T-shirt. Sweat was trickling down her temples, along her jaw, down her back, soaking her shirt. She couldn’t breathe. She needed air. She needed to be outside. She walked fast, skirting around others in the hallway, until she finally broke into a trot. Her lungs felt like they were closing. The hallway seemed to narrow, closing in on her. Darkness swam in the edges of her vision. She wasn’t going to make it. Then she remembered. Taking a sharp left at the next hallway, she burst through the glass doors into an open courtyard and threw her head back to suck in great gulps of fresh outdoor air.

  Her heart finally began to slow, and she looked around. Thankfully, she appeared to be alone. She sat on a bench in the sunlight. The sweat that had been pouring off her minutes ago was drying quickly, and she began to shiver.

  The night terrors had gotten better. Not every night now. And she had hardly any daytime flashbacks. Well, except for the one today when she was introduced to Lucy. Teddy had made that go away. But she’d just experienced a full-fledged panic attack. She’d read about them. They’d all sat through the pre-deployment talks about PTSD and other side effects of serving in a war zone. Panic attacks had been one of them. They hadn’t sounded as bad as this felt.

  She was getting better, wasn’t she? Hell, who could tell? It was like the war had just followed her home. Maybe that was why so many guys kept going back. They thought they’d left something unfinished in that godforsaken desert, but they were unconsciously trying each time to leave it all over there and return without the war baggage. Instead, the baggage just piled higher and higher.

  And she’d never be done until she’d unloaded hers. She straightened, her battle plan clear now.

  She would hire a lawyer to force the army to release her, then testify at Senator Elsbeth’s hearing. Cpl. Jessica Avery deserved her due. And, if asked, she’d tell The New York Times why Gen. George Banks should not be elected to fill her father’s senate seat if Brock’s candidate did win the presidency in the next election and appoint him Secretary of Defense.

  Britt woke her phone, opened the Uber app, and arranged for a ride to the hotel to collect her things and her truck. Then she stood, gave herself a minute to map in her mind the quickest path to where she’d promised to meet the driver, and set out.

  Story Hill Farm was what she needed now—her grandfather’s steady presence, the smell of hay and horses, long rides on Mysty, and a good training year for her new racehorse. Then she’d be truly home from war.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Five minutes and a maze of hallways, stairs, and elevators later, Teddy found her way back to the rehabilitation department.

  Her head was too full. Why was she being subpoenaed to appear before a Congressional hearing led by Sen. Amanda Elsbeth? What was the hearing about? Finally, she was headed back to her office so she could sit down and google it. Wait. Could this have something to do with Britt? Damn it. She needed to focus. First, she needed to talk to Britt. What would she say? I’m married? I can’t love you because I’m supposed to love someone else forever?

  Teddy slowed as she approached her office. It was empty. Teddy scanned the gym. Maybe Britt was talking to another veteran who was there for treatment. No sign of her. Maybe she’d gone to the bathroom. Teddy sat down to boot up her computer and saw the note Alisha had left.

  “Oh, no. I missed her. Damn.” The hearing and its purpose forgotten, she dug her phone out of her pocket and was about to call Alisha when Colonel Winstead waved from her doorway to get her attention.

  “Sir?”

  “I’d like to see you in my office.”

  Teddy stood. “Now?”

  “Yes, Lieutenant.”

  “Let me jot a quick note for someone I’m expecting, and I’ll be right there.” The fact that Colonel Winstead had addressed her formally indicated this was important. She flipped Alisha’s note over and penned a quick In the boss’s office, be right back note for Britt.

  Teddy was surprised to find a one-star general standing in the colonel’s office.

  Colonel Winstead made the introductions. “Lieutenant Theodora Alexander, this is General George Banks.”

  “General Banks, sir.” Teddy saluted and held it until General Banks returned her salute.

  “At ease, Lieutenant,” he said. “I’ve been hearing good things about you, young lady.” He smiled, but something about his smugness and the way his eyes swept over her felt condescending and invasive.

  “I strive every day to be the best soldier I can be.” She could quote army propaganda to him all day, but she wasn’t going to suck up by giving this man anything personal.

  He raised an eyebrow. Maybe he’d gotten the message.

  “Yes, well, apparently your best has been exceptional lately. I was in town to visit with a friend, so I thought I’d drop by to pin these on you personally.” He took a small box from his pocket and opened it to reveal what was inside.

  Teddy snapped to attention again as he stepped toward her, removing the single silver bars from her uniform and replacing them w
ith the double bars of a captain. Then he stepped back and saluted her. “Captain Alexander. The army appreciates your dedication, your loyalty, and service to your country.”

  She returned his salute and broke into a smile. “Thank you, General. This…this is unexpected.” She looked to Colonel Winstead, who looked as surprised as she was, but recovered quickly.

  “Congratulations, Teddy. You deserve this more than any soldier I know,” Colonel Winstead said. “You’ve been an invaluable asset to the prosthesis project so far. I seriously doubt we’d be nearly this far along without your organizational skills.”

  “Not to mention your recruiting skills. Brock Story is a personal friend, and he says he has no idea how you did it, but you have his tiger of a daughter purring like a house cat. I understand from Colonel Winstead that Captain Story’s adapting very quickly to the prototype appendage. Bionic implants could be the future of our military.”

  “General Banks, I’m afraid we might be getting ahead of ourselves.” Teddy glanced at Colonel Winstead. Hadn’t he told General Banks about Britt walking out on the project?

  General Banks narrowed his eyes, staring at Teddy. “What do you mean?”

  Colonel Winstead laid his hand on her shoulder and squeezed when she opened her mouth to answer. “Teddy’s just being cautious. We did only the first mapping today to synch Captain Story’s brain with the digital prosthesis and still have to do a lot of delicate work and testing. The patent ultimately belongs to Duke researchers, and they won’t release it to the market or the government until they’re confident it’s one hundred percent operational.”

  General Banks considered this information but didn’t look like he was buying it. “That’s your job, isn’t it? To make sure it works well enough for us to get our hands on it.” He looked at his watch. “I’ve got a steak dinner, then a poker game waiting with some men that have the influence we need in Congress to pump up our budget.”

  He left the office but took only two steps before he returned to the doorway. “One more thing. Captain Story has been subpoenaed to appear before a Congressional hearing chaired by that bitch Senator Amanda Elsbeth. She’s been ordered not to respond. I want you two to make sure she follows those orders.”

  Britt was to testify at the same hearing? What had happened that they were afraid for Britt to talk about? “Sir, I don’t know what we could do if she’s determined.”

  General Banks looked at his watch again, then glared at Teddy. “Hell. I don’t care what you do. You have my permission to use anything in your arsenal. Alter her calendar, take her to Durham where they have the bionics lab, drug her, seduce her, damn it. I understand you both like girls, and Brock said you two were getting rather cozy at the farm. Whatever you need to do, do it!”

  Teddy’s face heated with guilt, but mostly with anger. “Sir, I would never—”

  “Lieutenant Alexander has never failed to follow orders,” Colonel Winstead said.

  General Banks ignored him and stepped forward to push his sausage-like finger close to her face. “Yes, you will, Captain. Or we won’t just drop Captain Story from the project. We’ll cancel it completely. Story might be too much of a little girl to return to combat, but a lot of men would gladly return if they had arms and legs. You’ll be letting all of them down if this project doesn’t go forward.”

  Stunned, Teddy stared after General Banks as he stormed through the gymnasium, past the rehabbing veterans who straightened. He ignored more than a few offered salutes.

  “Teddy.” The soft voice came from her friend and mentor, Tom, not from the man who minutes ago had been Colonel Winstead, her boss.

  She turned and glared at him. “I’ll be in my office, Colonel.”

  Teddy marched to her office and closed the door. How had her day gone off the rails so badly? She’d woken that morning next to Britt, floating in a cloud of happiness. Now she’d lost everything. She’d broken her promise to love Shannon forever. She’d lost confidence in her mentor as he’d fallen in line with army politics. She was losing out on a project she loved and hoped would be the future of her career. But her biggest regret, her deepest shame was getting caught in a political web and unwittingly betraying Britt.

  She knew what she had to do. She booted her laptop and began.

  * * *

  Britt paid the Uber driver and dug the ticket for her truck out of her wallet. When she stopped at the valet desk to tell them she was checking out, she asked them to have her truck brought up in twenty minutes. Then she started across the large hotel lobby in long strides. The sooner she got on the road, the better. Lexington was getting a little too crowded for her taste.

  She was halfway there, the elevators in sight, when she contemplated ignoring the voice that rang out.

  “Britt. Wait up.” Despite her long legs, her father was still taller and caught up with her easily. His smile was broad. “Wow. You’ve bought yourself a racehorse. And what a colt. Dad says it’s the best he’s ever bred. I’ve been looking for you. I want you to have dinner with us.”

  It didn’t take much to deduce the “us” guest list because General Banks was barreling across the lobby, heading straight for them.

  “Thanks, but I was just going up to my room to check out and head back to the farm.”

  “You’ve got to eat,” he said. “Let’s get a good steak in you, and then you can hit the road. Go ahead and check out, if you want, and you can leave from the restaurant. I’ve got some people who’d really like to meet the owner of the next Triple Crown winner.”

  “Half owner. And your prediction is premature. I’m tired and really just want to leave.”

  “Nonsense.” General Banks finally reached them, breathing heavy. Apparently, his desk job hadn’t kept him as physically fit as her dad and she were. “And give your little lieutenant a call. Wait, I meant captain. She was promoted today. Bet you didn’t know that. Pinned the bars on her myself just a little while ago.” He actually winked at her. “We’d love to have two attractive ladies join us, and I’m sure she’d want to have dinner with you.”

  Britt narrowed her eyes at him. What did he mean by that remark? She’d been trying to be polite, but her patience was wearing very thin. She glanced at General Banks and gave her father a look she knew would convey her disgust for the company he had in mind.

  “I’m going home,” she said quietly. Her father dropped his gaze and nodded.

  “You’re staying, Captain Story,” General Banks said, his face reddening. “That’s an order. The men we’re dining with are important to army appropriations. It’s time you quit focusing on yourself and showed some concern for every soldier in this army.”

  “George—” Her dad scowled at General Banks, but Britt interrupted whatever he was going to say. She didn’t need her father to shield her.

  “Respectfully, sir, I could offer you the same advice.” She knew she was being insubordinate, but she’d plead incompetency due to recent battle trauma if he brought her up on charges. Surely, he wasn’t too stupid to know that. “I am on medical leave, General Banks, and I’ve had an exhausting therapy session this afternoon. My doctor’s orders are for me to go home and rest. Another time perhaps.”

  General Banks’s ruddy color deepened, and he had opened his mouth to reply when a slender man with salt-and-pepper hair approached with a phone, notebook, and pen in hand.

  “Britt. Sorry to interrupt, but do you have a moment?”

  “Hey, Emmet. I was heading up to my room to pack and check out. What’s up?” She smiled at the well-known journalist who contributed to several horse-racing publications. His reporting was always accurate and well-sourced, earning the respect of everyone in the business.

  “You know nothing is secret for very long around the barns. I understand you and Marianne are co-owners of your grandfather’s colt that went for twelve million earlier today.”

  She laughed and shook her head as she looked at her feet. “And you’re sure of your sources?”


  He chuckled. “Very sure. Roberto’s wife, Melina, is crowing all over the barn about how Marianne bribed Ross to let her steal Roberto for a month to get that high-dollar colt settled in his new home and train one of her grooms how to best handle him. But when Melina refused for her husband to be gone so long, Marianne offered their whole family use of her beach house at Edisto Island the entire month and promised Roberto could join them on the weekends.” He leaned close and lowered his voice. “And she might have let it slip that to convince her that he should go, Roberto told her this colt was triple blessed because he was bred by a Story, co-owned by a Story, then co-owned and to be trained by Marianne. Melina does not ignore numerology.”

  Britt offered her father an unapologetic half smile. “Another time. Business calls.” She seized both the opportunity and Emmet by the arm. “Come up to my room, and I’ll talk to you while I pack.”

  Two elevators opened as they approached. A waiting couple took the one on the right, so Britt steered Emmet to the one on the left. She blew out a breath when the doors closed on her father and General Banks still staring after them.

  “Thanks for rescuing me,” she said to Emmet. She’d known him since she was a kid and he was a young man with a notebook jotting down as much of Pop’s wisdom as he could while he breakfasted with them at Keeneland, or in Louisville at Churchill Downs. He’d even been to the farm a few times.

  “I’ve seen that expression before. You looked like you wanted to rip those stars off that general’s shoulders and shove them up his ass.” They both chuckled. “But I really do want a story from you, if you’re willing.”