STUDS AND STILETTOS (Romantic Mystery)

by Bev Pettersen

  One thing was apparent, the five horses chosen to enter the starting gate were all pros. They stood quietly, unfazed by the increasing commotion. It must have taken Dan a long time to find them, or maybe he had trained the horses himself.

  “These animals are going to act a lot different in a few minutes,” the stunt rider said. “Dan does awesome work. It’s a huge boost to have his name on your resume. I bet he won’t let the director’s niece ride, even though Anthony ramped down this scene.”

  Emily glanced to her left. The nervous young girl was the director’s niece; that explained a lot. Remarkably, the gray horse she rode didn’t seem upset, tolerating the hammerlock on his mouth with amazing grace.

  “Hello, everyone,” Dan said, striding into the middle of the circle and looking at the stunt rider. “Good to see you on this one, Mitzie. We’re going to load the first three, then pick it up with you and Reckless.” His gaze shot to Emily and then to her horse. He frowned. “I had you on the gray, Emily.”

  He walked closer, patted her horse’s neck then slipped his hand beneath the girth. “Your saddle is a little loose. Let’s tighten this a few holes.” His voice lowered. “We can switch you to the gray, if you’d like. He’s more seasoned and extremely quiet. You’ll be less likely to bang your legs too. ”

  “This horse is fine,” she said, guessing the director’s niece would be even more terrified on a bigger horse.

  Dan gave an appreciative nod, his eyes as brilliant blue as the sky. “Okay,” he said. “Remember, just hang on. And it’s okay to look scared. In fact, we want that. The gate crew will lead you in, Reckless will rear, the others will get upset and then we back you out. Simple?”

  “Absolutely,” she said. His quiet confidence was infectious and she was eager to see Bruno’s imitation of Reckless. She already knew the horse could rear when led, but it would be much more dramatic in the narrow starting gate. And she’d have a front row seat.

  “Your hands are okay in those gloves?”

  She nodded happily. Her hands were healing well and with the riding gloves Dan had supplied, they didn’t hurt at all. He squeezed her boot, making her heart skip a beat, then turned and headed toward the director’s niece.

  Mitzie frowned. “That’s weird. I’ve never seen him stop and personally check a saddle. Or are you a relative too?” The condescension in her voice was unmistakable.

  Emily paused. Back at Three Brooks she’d openly flaunted her connections. Sure, people might resent it. But they tended to give preferential treatment once they knew the powerful Derek Burke was her brother-in-law. Here, she’d worked harder than ever before. She’d actually achieved more without Burke or Jenna’s help. And it felt good.

  “No, I came on the background bus.” She raised her head. “But I stayed to clean stalls and do whatever work was available.”

  Mitzie’s eyes narrowed. “Now I know why you look familiar. You were the non-union girl in that bolting scene yesterday. Why didn’t you say so?” She gave an approving nod. “I thought I was stuck working with a bunch of weekend riders.”

  Emily gave a feeble smile. Weekend? She hadn’t ridden in years.

  “You should ask Dan to get you a speaking line,” Mitzie went on. “That would get you in the union. He seems to like you and he has tons of clout.”

  Emily glanced down, pretending to straighten her horse’s mane. Dan might like her and want to keep her safe, but unfortunately his goal seemed to be getting her off the set. And away from him.

  “But maybe you don’t like cameras.” Mitzie shrugged. “I understand that. Not all beautiful people want to be in the movies.”

  Emily touched her cheek, remembering she wore no makeup, but the outgoing Mitzie continued talking, apparently sincere. “I have a friend who worked as a wrangler for twenty-four years. She loved it.”

  “I do like working with the horses,” Emily said. “They’re very relaxing. And Dan is…”

  “On every woman’s top ten-to-do list.”

  Emily flushed but Mitzie didn’t notice her discomfort.

  “Dream on,” Mitzie said. “He doesn’t takes advantage of his looks, or his position. He wants a stay-at-home ranch girl. His mother craved the limelight. Wasn’t so happy about marriage and motherhood. Awesome rider though.”

  Emily pushed her feet further in the stirrups, uncomfortable with the gossip. However, the chance to learn more about Dan was irresistible. “You knew his mother?” She sneaked a peek at Dan. Luckily he was out of earshot, still reassuring the frightened rider on the gray.

  “A little.” Mitzie shrugged. “We worked together on some stunts before. She ended up in a chair.”

  “A chair?” Emily gaped. “Executed?”

  “No, stupid, a wheelchair. She’s in a bad way. Happens to a lot of people.” Mitzie jabbed her thumb at the girl on the gray, her expression darkening. “And Anthony should have known better than to saddle Dan with such a timid and inexperienced rider.”

  Emily’s hands tightened around the reins, but Mitzie didn’t seem to mean anything personal about the ‘stupid’ comment. She seemed more concerned about everyone’s riding ability. “I’m not so experienced either,” Emily admitted.

  “But you’re not timid. And we’re just sitting in the gate. It’s like putting a quarter in and enjoying the ride. Who wouldn’t like that?”

  Emily laughed, enjoying this woman’s attitude. She didn’t even mind being called stupid. No wonder the wranglers always looked happy; they were able to hang out with Dan and all the cool stunt riders. Although Lizzie didn’t look very happy, standing by the rail. The more Emily and Mitzie laughed, the more Lizzie glowered.

  “Picture is up,” someone called.

  Emily turned away from Lizzie’s sour face. A man appeared beside Emily’s horse and slipped a leather line through the bridle. She assumed he was a real horse handler, not an actor. He moved with deft assurance, acting just like the gate crew at Three Brooks.

  She gathered her reins and stared between the horse’s ears, pretending she was about to break from the gate and ride in a real workout. A few things felt different. The saddle was smaller, the stirrups shorter. However, the horse was solid and real, and soon she forgot about the cameras.

  She couldn’t forget about Dan though. He moved with athletic grace, talking to each rider, communicating with each horse. He gave her a last encouraging nod, clearly trusting her to do this right. And she was determined to justify that trust.

  A voice—sounded like Anthony’s—called, “Action,” and the attendant turned and led her horse into the first slot of the starting gate. It was definitely cramped. Her knee scraped the metal side, and for a moment she feared they wouldn’t fit. But the door clanged shut behind her. The attendant jumped up on a narrow ledge, still holding her horse’s head, and it was all so controlled her breathing steadied.

  She stared through the grill. The dirt track stretched in front of her, vast and empty—except for several cameras in front of the gate. And of course, Dan. She tried not to think about him, didn’t want to be distracted. Beside, this was a unique experience and with a little imagination, she could pretend the gates were about to crack open, releasing five thundering horses, including the Derby hopeful.

  Her horse stared straight ahead, his ears pricked. He seemed poised to run. Did he think this was real? But no, his body felt as relaxed as it had outside the gate, as though aware he was a movie horse now. Not a racehorse.

  “Get ready,” the attendant murmured.

  She glanced sideways. The girl on the gray was next to her but Mitzie and Bruno were four slots down, as far away as possible, which meant Emily’s face wouldn’t even be recognizable on the big screen. She and her horse were just fillers, pure background. Oddly though, it didn’t matter. The satisfaction of being on set, of working together to make this movie, filled her with a sense of community and accomplishment.

  Steel clanged. Someone shouted. Movement flickered in her right eye as Bruno rose in
a perfect rear, his hooves waving threateningly against the door. Her horse tossed his head and clearly had been waiting for his cue. He gave a controlled rear, barely twelve inches off the ground, then dropped to the ground and reared again. But this time much higher.

  It was totally awesome. She gripped his mane, stared straight ahead and tried not to grin.

  *

  Bruno was killing it. Dan allowed himself a brief moment of satisfaction then signaled again with his hand. The horse rose one last time, flailing his legs. Mitzie cursed, leaped from the saddle and scrambled nimbly through the bars of the gate. Bruno continued his rodeo, the impact even more powerful with an empty saddle. He looked like a rogue. Unrideable. Unraceable.

  Emily’s mount, the big bay from Churchill Downs, was totally hamming it up, tossing his head and giving his trademark baby rears. That horse was a pro and originally Dan had planned to load him in the stall next to Bruno. There was always an element of danger though, especially in the confines of a starting gate, so he’d shuffled Emily further away from the action.

  No need to worry about scaring her though. Her eyes sparkled. She may not be a stunt rider but she definitely shared their joy of an adrenaline rush.

  Relieved, he glanced back at the perfect row of rearing horses, stunned to see tears dripping down the face of Anthony’s niece. A little fear was good, but tears? Exercise riders were damn tough. They didn’t cry.

  “Cut!” Anthony called.

  Dan signaled and the row of horses planted their feet, eyes glued to his hand.

  “Did you bump your leg, Leslie?” Dan asked, stepping closer and peering through the grill of stall three.

  She shook her head, tears tracking her cheeks. “I c-can’t do this anymore. I’m too scared. Please don’t tell my uncle.”

  Dan grit his teeth, then turned away. “Back this horse out,” he said to the gate crew. “Send him back to the barn.”

  Anthony yanked off his headset and rushed forward. “What’s going on?”

  “This horse has reared six times today,” Dan said. “He’s done.”

  “It couldn’t have been six,” Anthony said. “We just started.”

  “Sorry. My mistake,” Dan said. “I used him earlier this morning.” His gaze met Emily’s, and she gave him such a sweet smile, his frustration drained away. “We can move the bay up a stall,” he added. “Would that work?”

  “Let’s hope so,” Anthony snapped. “Back them all out and take a short break. We’ll go with four horses.” He stalked back to the cameras but his mild reaction made Dan suspect he was rather relieved his niece was out of the picture.

  “Good job, everyone,” Dan said, moving up the line, waiting until the horses had backed out of the starting gate. He signaled to Lizzie for a dismount. Some people treated their mounts like rocking chairs. However, he liked his riders off whenever possible, in order to avoid unnecessary back and leg problems, for the horses.

  “It’s not a scheduled break yet,” Monty asked. “Do you still want the horses watered?”

  “Yes. And stand them in the shade.” Dan frowned. “Next time, triple check the saddles. Emily’s girth was loose.”

  “The girl on the big bay? The one who built the paddock?” Monty shook his head. “Wasn’t me, boss. Lizzie saddled the bay.”

  Dan swung around. “Emily built the paddock? I thought Lizzie did.”

  “No. Emily dragged the rails from the leftover pile on the backstretch. Must have walked half a mile. She was worried about the lame horse coughing. Wanted to make sure he had a safe place outside.”

  Dan dragged a hand through his hair. His impressions of Emily were conflicting. He’d thought she wasn’t safe handling the horses in the stud barn, that she didn’t know much about horse management. Yet many of those impressions had been shaped by Lizzie. “Those two horses in the stud barn,” he asked thoughtfully, “are they hard to handle?”

  “Not at all,” Monty said. “They’re perfectly behaved boys. Probably why Emily cares about them so much.”

  “Probably,” Dan said, his narrowed gaze searching the set for Lizzie.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  Emily pulled off her helmet and wiped her hot brow. She couldn’t count the number of times they’d walked in and out of the starting gate. Judith estimated an hour of shooting resulted in a minute of useable film. Since it had taken four hours to shoot the gate scene, including the required breaks for the horses, that ratio meant approximately three minutes would be in the movie.

  Dependable Monty led her horse back to the barn. She wished she could follow. But Anthony hadn’t offered any more background so it seemed inevitable that she’d be returning to Louisville tonight. She fought a pang in her chest and glanced around for Dan.

  However, he’d already moved down the track in preparation for the next scene. She understood now why he could pick and choose his movie contracts. His horses behaved perfectly, even under extraordinary pressure. But it was his kindness to the director’s niece that had impressed her the most. He’d understood the girl’s fear, covering for her even when questioned by Anthony. No wonder his staff adored him.

  Sighing, she reached into her bag and pulled out Billy’s ball cap. Her jeans were dusty, she wore no makeup, but at least the hat would hide her helmet hair. Besides, it wasn’t worth the trouble to obsess over her looks; Dan didn’t care about appearances.

  The fact that he’d kissed her earlier, in front of the cast and crew, left her baffled. However, it had definitely raised her status on set. An assistant had already pressed a flavored bottle of water into her hand, making her feel as pampered as a real movie star. There was no doubt she’d be welcome in the big dining tent tonight. Maybe that’s why he’d done it, to make sure she had a comfortable last supper.

  “We better go,” a lady said. “The theater fundraiser starts at seven.”

  Emily turned toward the familiar voice. Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton stood by the rail, only ten feet away. Emily smiled and Mrs. Hamilton waved a friendly acknowledgement. Mr. Hamilton, however, charged forward, his eyes riveted to her forehead.

  “Where did you get that hat?” he asked.

  Emily automatically reached up and touched the brim of the ball cap. “Billy gave it to me.”

  “You’re lying.”

  “I certainly am not.” Emily stiffened, annoyed at both his words and his aggression. However, this man was the property owner, a movie investor as well as Mrs. Hamilton’s husband. She willed her voice to remain level. “If you want me to return it though, that’s no problem.”

  She pulled off the hat, holding it in front of her.

  “What were you doing in his cottage?” Mr. Hamilton snapped, his eyes narrowing to slits.

  “Cleaning.” She gripped the hat with both hands, trying to control her temper. Mr. Hamilton was acting like a first-class jerk, all upset over a hat while Billy lived in squalor. “While we’re discussing Billy,” she said, quite proud at how she remained calm, “you should be aware he needs more in-home assistance.”

  “Assistance? You were inside?” Mr. Hamilton’s throat moved convulsively. “Did you find anything else…from Reckless’s days?”

  Emily shook her head. No way was she mentioning the duffle bag. Clearly Judith had been right to suspect this man. His mouth clenched so tightly, his lips turned white. And he only worried about what she’d found. He hadn’t shown a speck of concern for poor Billy.

  “Come on, Thomas. It’s just an old hat.” Mrs. Hamilton shot Emily an apologetic look and placed a manicured hand on her husband’s arm. “Let her keep it. She’s been working in the sun all afternoon.”

  She tried to urge her husband away, but Mr. Hamilton remained stiff legged, staring at the cap in Emily’s hands as though he wanted to snatch it from her fingers.

  “Hi, everyone.” Judith walked over, her voice artificially cheerful. “That starting gate scene was fun to watch. Emily, your horse looked quite wild.”

  No one answered. Finally Mr
. and Mrs. Hamilton turned and walked toward a waiting car.

  “I heard him freaking out,” Judith whispered, her face an oyster gray. “Was it the hat? Did he recognize it?”

  “He sure did,” Emily said. “Thanks for coming over. And now I really do believe he murdered that poor groom.” Goose bumps chilled the back of her neck.

  “I always thought so.” Judith’s pensive gaze followed the powerful car. “But it was a long time ago. And there’s no way to prove it.”

  Emily glanced down at the cap, turning it over and examining the material. It appeared unworn, with no marks except a ‘one size fits all’ tag. “There must be someone who’d know more. What about Shania? You mentioned she always researches her roles.”

  “Yes, but she isn’t in these scenes. Besides, she has bodyguards; she wouldn’t talk to us peons.” Judith hesitated, her eyes flaring with hope. “It’s obvious she likes Dan though. Maybe you could ask him to call.”

  “I can’t ask him to do that.”

  “But this is important. That man likely killed Tracey.” Judith’s voice rose. “And we can’t let him get away with it. Don’t you want justice?”

  “Yes, of course. But I’m leaving tonight—”

  “You have to do this first. You know Dan better than me.” Judith’s voice turned persuasive. “While you’re at it, you could tell him about Billy. Take him to the cottage, show him Tracey’s bag. Once he sees that dump firsthand, you know he’ll help. Someone like Dan wouldn’t leave Billy in those conditions.”

  Emily kicked at a pebble. Yes, Dan was tough but kind. He’d never stand back and ignore someone in need. She’d seen evidence of that firsthand. And he had the power to make things happen. But Shania?

  She forced a strained smile and rubbed her mouth. The grit from the track seemed to be caked to her skin and teeth. “Great,” she said. “You want me to ask him to talk to Shania, one of the most beautiful people in the world. Famous, rich and single.”