“Judith!” Emily dropped the picture back in the box. “Get out of here. Now!”
“There’s not much about Tracey anyway. It’s mainly horse notes.” Judith rose and brushed off her jeans, not at all repentant. “Don’t forget, we are here trying to figure out what happened to a missing person.”
Emily shook her head, grabbed Judith’s arm and yanked her from the room. “We’re leaving Dan’s trailer,” she snapped, “and not looking sideways. In fact, we’re walking out right now.”
“Fine,” Judith said. “But I’m surprised you don’t want to read the script notes. It might help land more background, maybe even get you a line.”
Emily pushed Judith down the hall and toward the kitchen door. “He trusted us.”
A polite knock sounded and they both gave a guilty jump. Emily hesitated then reached over and cautiously turned the knob. A gray-haired woman in a blue windbreaker stood on the doorstep, a bulky envelope in her hand.
“Delivery for Emily,” the woman said.
“That’s me. Thanks.” Puzzled, Emily took the package and closed the door.
“Who knows you’re here?” Judith asked, watching as Emily ripped open the seal.
“Only Dan. But he wouldn’t send anything. He didn’t even leave a note…” Emily’s words trailed off as she opened the envelope, her throat constricting as she pulled out a perfectly sized, lace push-up bra.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
“We need a female groom to push a wheelbarrow to the manure pit,” the casting director said. “It’s a wet gloomy morning.”
“That sounds easy,” Emily whispered to Judith. “It’s not even raining.”
Judith pointed at the large industrial fan and extensive network of hoses. “Looks like they plan to do some drenching.” Her eyes flickered over Emily’s chest. “Bet you could get the job. That fancy bra is doing its thing.”
Emily’s gaze drifted toward the barn aisle. She hadn’t had a chance to thank Dan for the thoughtful gift. However, it looked like he and Anthony were finally leaving the interior set and coming this way. She clasped her hands, surprised at her rush of nerves. This heart-pounding excitement was far worse than any high school crush.
“Do it,” Judith said, giving her a poke. “You can check out Billy’s cottage later.”
Emily pulled her attention back to the casting director and stepped forward, joining a line of four other women.
“Any union here?” the man asked. No one answered. He gave a humorless chuckle. “Guess none of our union performers want the job. Okay, you’re going to get a little wet. And the wind will be blowing.”
One of the ladies shrank back, shaking her head.
The man was still talking but Emily could no longer concentrate. Dan had arrived. He spotted her and a slow smile curved his face. He looked deep in her eyes, not at her chest, despite the scooped shirt.
“Thank you,” she mouthed.
He nodded. His gaze drifted to the black hoses. His smile flattened.
Anthony’s assistant gestured at Emily. “You did a good job yesterday. We like you for this scene.”
Dan abruptly stepped forward. “Pick someone else,” he said.
The assistant shrugged. “How about you in the green shirt?”
The lady in the green tank top nodded happily.
“The rest of you can wait for the next scene,” the assistant said, gesturing at the remaining background.
“Not you, Emily,” Dan said. “I need someone else in the gate.”
She stared blankly. Even Judith, who understood set procedures, appeared puzzled.
“Let’s get a coffee first,” Dan said. He slipped a hand over her elbow, gestured at someone and guided her to a spot at the rail. But he didn’t speak, not until they each had a coffee in their hand and the attendant had shuffled away.
“Sorry,” he finally said.
Emily studied his face over her hot cup. He looked rested, handsome and somewhat sheepish.
She shook her head in confusion. “I don’t understand. Why did you send this lovely bra—thank you very much by the way—if you’re going to stop me from getting these parts?”
“It’s cold this morning. That rain machine can cause ear infections. You might be under it for over an hour. The water hasn’t been tested.” He paused. “And I guess I don’t like to share.”
“But you didn’t…last night, we didn’t.” She stopped talking and pulled the lid off her cup, her confusion switching to annoyance. “So you pretend to need me in a gate scene knowing that completely blows the chance at any more groom background?”
He looked at her as if she spoke a foreign language. “But I do want you for the gate.” He glanced at Anthony, his voice lowering. “You’re non-union. I can look after you better if it’s my scene.”
“Oh,” she managed. A warm flush spread through her chest. Suddenly she wasn’t annoyed at all.
“With me, you won’t get hosed.” His gaze slid over her chest, his eyes glinting with amusement. “And you’ll be wearing a protection vest. A really big one.”
“I’ll wear a suit of armor if necessary. And five layers of dirt on my face.”
His smile deepened. “When we first met, you were dressed for a party shoot. You looked very different.”
She automatically smoothed her shirt, swiping off a piece of straw. A week ago, she would have taken such a comment as criticism. Now though, she wasn’t sure. There was too much approval in his eyes, in his voice.
“Jeans are more practical,” she said. “Besides they don’t want the grooms with obvious makeup or fancy hair. The wardrobe department is very strict.” She gave a rueful shrug. “I already tried for more glamour.”
“I bet you did.” Still smiling, he glanced over his shoulder at the waiting golf cart. “I have to go. Don’t get in any trouble, okay?”
“Will I really be breaking from the gate?” she asked, wishing he’d linger.
“Hell, no.” He chuckled. “You’ll just be sitting on a horse. We have to back them from the gate when Reckless, played by Bruno, rears.”
“Okay,” she said. “But if you need anyone to break from the gate, I can do that too.”
“You’ve ridden from the gate? At Three Brooks?”
She opened her mouth then stopped, reluctant to stretch the truth. “Well, it was just a pony.”
“Your pony? Peanut? He’s probably not as explosive as a racehorse.” But Dan turned back to her, ignoring the waiting golf cart. “How did your little guy do in the gate? He probably couldn’t see over the bars.”
“He couldn’t. But he behaved very well when he was standing there. He wanted to eat grass though and was rather annoyed there wasn’t any hay in the starting gate. When the door opened, he started bucking. I lasted maybe three seconds. It was still fun though.”
Dan’s eyes twinkled. “I had a Shetland pony who loved to eat too. I fell off every time he stopped quick. Mischievous fellow but damn fun. And so tiny I could almost pick him up.”
“Yes.” She sighed with nostalgia. “I didn’t like it when I grew too big to ride. It was fun sharing Peanut with the other little kids, but I missed our adventures.”
“That didn’t happen to me,” Dan said. “My mother sold Silver before I outgrew him.”
“I’m sorry.” She gave his arm a sympathetic squeeze. “My father did the same thing when we needed money. But Jenna found Peanut and somehow convinced the owner to sell him back on credit. We gathered pop cans for a year and half.”
Dan’s eyes darkened. She realized she was still touching his arm, and yanked her hand back. According to Judith, he was one of the most private people in the industry. Already she could feel curious stares.
“Sorry.” She flattened her palms against her sides, appalled at her familiarity. “I know you don’t want rumors—”
But she stopped talking, had to, because his mouth covered hers in a quick and totally tender kiss.
He straightened, his expression
enigmatic. “See you in a few hours, Em.”
Ignoring the gawking production crew, he stepped into the waiting golf cart. She stared after him in bemusement, her heart pounding, her hand pressed to her tingling lips.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Judith charged into the stud barn. “Did you check the apartment yet?” she asked, her face flushed from running.
“Couldn’t,” Emily said. “The door was padlocked when I arrived.” She stepped back to Barney’s shoulder. “But watch this trick. He can grab my empty cup and shake it, as if he wants more coffee. He even rolls his lip. I have to show Dan. I think Barney is definitely worth keeping.”
“It’s padlocked?” Judith clutched the stall door, ignoring Barney’s inquisitive muzzle. “But I wanted to take another look at the apartment.”
“There’s nothing up there,” Emily said. “The place is basically empty.” She waved the cup again, keen to demonstrate Barney’s ability. “Check this out.”
“I don’t have time for useless tricks,” Judith snapped. “Not when a groom has been missing for years. Why are you in such a good mood anyway? Never mind.” She blew out a resigned sigh. “Everyone’s talking about how Dan kissed you. No wonder you both are walking around with foolish grins.”
Emily stepped from the stall, rather guilty she was so happy. But Judith was right. For the last hour, ever since Dan had publicly kissed her, she’d been grinning in delight. She just prayed the kiss was as important as it had felt.
“It was just a little kiss,” Emily said, unable to wipe the smile off her face. “It doesn’t mean much. He probably does that a lot nearing the end of a shoot.”
“No, he doesn’t,” Judith said. “Not according to my Internet research. I’m going to try that lock.”
She stomped down the aisle to the apartment. Emily followed, hopeful that Judith would talk a little more about Dan rather than worry about a damp and deserted apartment.
“There’s really nothing up there,” Emily called. “The hot water doesn’t even work. I had to shower down here. Did you say Dan was smiling too?”
Judith glanced sideways at the last stall then jerked to a stop, so abruptly Emily almost bumped into her.
“What is it?” Emily asked.
“Look at the heart carved in the wood.” Judith pointed at the wall. “The T must be Tracey. Men don’t draw hearts. But who’s R?”
Emily stared at the crude heart carved on the side of the stall. She’d seen it earlier but hadn’t considered it important: T loves R.
“Probably Reckless,” Emily said, remembering all the hearts she’d drawn with Peanut’s name. “Girls love their horses.”
“Or maybe it was another guy,” Judith said, “and Hamilton was jealous. If he set up Tracey in the apartment but she fell in love with someone else, he couldn’t have been pleased.”
Emily nodded thoughtfully. Billy had been weird about the gate. He would have known if Tracey received any visitors. Maybe Billy had served as Hamilton’s watchdog. Maybe he’d been the one to tell Hamilton about Tracey’s new boyfriend. After all, he had said something to Emily about not telling Hamilton the night she was late. Had acted like it was a big favor.
“I only have another hour before my scene,” Emily said slowly, “but let’s stop by Billy’s cottage and try asking a few more questions.”
“Good idea,” Judith said, already turning toward the door.
However, forty-five minutes later they’d learned nothing about the possibility of a boyfriend. Billy barely responded to their questions, or their presence. He hunched in his chair and stared morosely out the window, his conversation reduced to grunts.
Emily shoved a strand of hair behind her ear and continued bagging old beer cans. At least she had the chance to clean a little more, with the security of Judith’s company. And today Billy didn’t seem to mind that they were removing his cans and bottles. The refund would pay for his groceries for at least a week.
She glanced at Judith who no longer pretended to clean, but instead was searching for more of Tracey’s belongings.
“Billy,” Emily asked, rather worried about the depleted contents of his fridge. “Have you had other visitors lately? Did anyone else bring you food?”
He looked up, blinking, as though surprised to see her. “Nope,” he mumbled. “No visitors since the snow melt.”
The expiry date on the milk carton showed that wasn’t true.
Judith kicked a box in frustration. “We better go. He can’t remember anything. Probably R was Reckless. Besides, you have to report to set.”
“I hate to leave him,” Emily whispered. “He needs help. Do you know if he has any relatives?”
“I did some poking on the Internet but didn’t find anything.” Judith pinched the bridge of her nose. “I put Tracey’s duffle bag in the hall closet. We’ll have to tell someone about it. I only wish we had found something else, something that would spark an investigation.”
“Yes, but at least his place is cleaner.”
“That’s not top of my priority list,” Judith said.
*
Emily smiled at Monty, recognizing the helpful wrangler. Today he led a very tall bay with a wide chest and thick black mane.
“Here’s your horse,” Monty said, stopping in front of her. “I’ll be close by, ready to take him back to the barn when you’re finished.”
“Thanks.” Emily gulped, staring up at the tiny saddle perched on the big Thoroughbred. The horse looked at least seventeen hands, and he was as solid as he was tall. “He’s sure big. Will he even fit in the starting gate?”
Monty nodded. “Dan had us lead them in and back them out twice already.”
“Where is Dan?” She glanced around for the golf cart.
“With the AD. They’ll be along once we’re ready. Lizzie is in charge right now.” Monty chuckled. “She picked this big guy out especially for you.”
“Isn’t that nice of her,” Emily said, unsurprised. The glare Lizzie had shot her when she assembled with the other gate riders had been noticeably hostile. “Does this fellow do something I should know about?” she added.
“Just watch your legs against the bars of the gate. He has lots of mane so you have plenty to grab when he goes up in the air. He knows his job. Just let him do his thing.”
“What exactly is his thing?” Emily warily tightened her helmet.
“He’s a copycat. He’ll probably be in the stall next to Bruno. They want to show how dangerous Reckless was in the gate, how his rearing affected the other horses. You know how it spreads when a horse freaks out.”
Emily nodded and squared her shoulders. “Okay. Can you give me a leg up?”
The obliging wrangler boosted her into the saddle. She guided the horse toward the four other riders. He had a lovely walk, alert and eager, and he veered toward the gate as though keen to do his job.
“Not yet,” she said, lifting a rein and turning him back toward the mounted group of riders.
The lady on Bruno was clearly a stunt rider. She slouched in the saddle, sipping on a bottle of water and studying the teenager on the gray with relaxed good humor. “Don’t you worry, sweetie,” she said. “This is a simple scene. You just stand in the gate for a minute or two and then we’re done.”
The girl on the gray didn’t seem at all reassured. Her eyes were huge in her pale face. She sat ramrod stiff, keeping a chokehold on her horse. Emily immediately felt better. She might not be the best rider today, but she certainly wasn’t the worst.
The stunt rider gave Emily a quick perusal. “Great. We have our fifth rider. Although we’ll probably have to wait another hour for Anthony.” She twisted in the saddle and hollered at an attendant. “Bring these riders some water. It’s hot up here.”
The girl on the gray declined a drink, choosing to keep both fists wrapped around the reins, but the other riders quickly accepted.
“Thanks for getting us the water,” Emily said, smiling gratefully at the stunt rider.
“No problem. It gets hot with helmets and vests, especially mid-afternoon. I galloped here when I was a teenager. Mrs. Hamilton made sure we had plenty of water. She was always doing nice things like that.”
Emily leaned forward in the saddle. “Did you know Tracey, Reckless’s groom?”
“Sure did.” The stunt rider tilted her head. The muscles in her arms and neck rippled as she drained the bottle. She swiped her mouth with the back of her arm and resumed talking. “Reckless should have won the Derby that year. Sad about Tracey.”
“Sad? But maybe she left with a boyfriend and is living happily somewhere.”
“No way. She wouldn’t have left Reckless. They had a real bond. That famous incident in the swimming pool really happened.” The rider looked at Emily, a knowing smile lifting the corners of her mouth. “And she didn’t have a boyfriend. Mr. Hamilton was the one who reported her missing. They were exceedingly close, if you get my drift.”
“No boyfriend? Well, do you think he—?” Emily paused, scrambling for a tactful word.
“Killed her?” The rider shrugged and flipped her empty bottle to a watchful wrangler. “I don’t know. There were always whispers but he appeared to adore her. And she seemed to feel the same way.”
“What about Billy, the caretaker by the stud barn? Did you know him?”
“Don’t remember him at all.” She gave another dismissive shrug. “I was a rider. That’s what paved my way into the movies.” She glanced toward the starting gate and straightened in the saddle. “Here he comes. Let’s make this good.”
Emily glanced over her shoulder. Dan strode toward them, followed by the assistant director and two men in a dolly truck.
“I thought they’d use a steady cam for this shot,” the stunt rider said. “Maybe the gate is going to open after all. The dolly can drive beside us but it leaves tire tracks.”
Emily nodded, not wanting to show her ignorance. She didn’t know the various camera names or methods, but it certainly was exciting to be in the middle of the action. There was even a fake horse with a moving head mounted on a truck. Obviously it was intended for actors, and simulated a galloping horse without the inherent danger.
STUDS AND STILETTOS (Romantic Mystery) Page 22