Sisters of the Mist

by Eric Wilder

  “Most of the races have no turns,” Eddie said. “How can there be a track bias?”

  Josie handed him a pair of powerful binoculars. “Look at the turf directly in front of the gate. Specifically, the fifth through the tenth spots. What do you see?”

  “The dirt’s not as even,” he said.

  “Whoever smoothed the track left the turf in front of the last five slots deeper and more furrowed than the first five.”

  “That can’t make that much of a difference,” Eddie said.

  “In a race that takes only twenty seconds to complete, every tenth is critical. Trust me. In this race, horses one through five have a definite advantage. Gate three has the smoothest exit from the gate.”

  Eddie glanced at the racing form. “The number three horse is a twelve to one long shot.”

  “And it’s the horse I’m betting on,” Josie said.

  Frankie didn’t comment, though Eddie noticed his wry smile.

  “Tell us who you’re betting on, Frankie,” he said.

  “Not the three horse.”

  “You think he’s too much of a long shot, even with the favorable track bias?” Eddie asked.

  “Nope,” he said. “I think an even bigger long shot will win.”

  “You know something you’re not telling us?”

  “The number three is a plant. Everyone in the paddock knows he’s supposed to win. He’ll be bet down to less than three to one by the time they come out of the gate.”

  “This is all sounding complicated,” Eddie said. “How do you know so much?”

  “The four horse is gonna come across the track and bump the three,” Frankie said. “He’ll veer to the left and take out the one and two. The six-horse is a twenty to one that’s never won a race. It’ll win this one.”

  “How do you know that?” Eddie said.

  “His owner is Diego Contrado, the nephew of Chuy Delgado.”

  Chuy Delgado, the Mexican drug lord?” Eddie asked. Frankie nodded. “Should I believe you?”

  “I’m not making it up.”

  “Who owns the number four?” Eddie asked.

  “Angus Anderson. He owns the three and the four.”

  “Angus Anderson, the president of Anderson Energy Corporation?”

  “Probably the richest man in New Orleans. He’s also a media mogul and owns more radio and TV stations, newspapers, and Internet properties than you can count.”

  “The four is the favorite to win. Why would he ruin his own horse’s chance to help Chuy Delgado?” Eddie asked.

  “Maybe he owes him a favor.”

  “If what you say is true, your sources are better than those we have downtown. Who are your sources?”

  “I didn’t say,” Frankie said.

  “You know I can subpoena you and get all the answers I need,” Eddie said.

  Frankie smiled again. “Answers to what?” I can’t even remember what we were talking about.”

  Eddie took a deep breath as he stared at Frankie. “I gotcha,” he said. “You’re probably pulling my leg, anyway. Horses one and two are both good bets. If the four doesn’t win, my money says it’ll be the one or the two.”

  “You’re a smart man, Eddie. I wouldn’t bet all my money on it if I were you.”

  “Stop it, you two,” Adele said. “We’re here to have fun.”

  “She’s right, you know?” Josie said. “You shouldn’t disrespect your new bride by arguing in front of her.”

  Frankie grabbed Adele’s hand and kissed it. “My wonderful daughter speaks the truth. Please accept my humble apology. There’ll be no more harsh words out of my mouth the rest of the day. Forgive me?”

  Adele hugged his neck. “You big galoot, you know I do.”

  “I’m also sorry,” Eddie said. “Let me buy the next round of drinks. I’m on vacation for the whole week. I intend to quit thinking about work, and I promise to keep my big mouth shut.”

  “Good idea,” Frankie said. “I’m gonna place my bet. You coming, Josie?”

  Josie grabbed Eddie’s wrist again. “Come with me to the betting window?”

  “Why not? I have money burning a hole in my pocket.”

  “Not for very long unless you take my advice,” Frankie said.

  Frankie hurried ahead through the crowd, Josie and Eddie holding hands as they followed him.

  “No matter what your dad thinks, I’m betting with you, babe.”

  “I was going to bet a hundred to win on the three-horse,” she said. “Dad sounded pretty sure of himself. I’m putting the hundred on the six-horse instead.”

  “You think your dad has inside information?”

  “Don’t be silly. He has excellent instincts when it comes to horse racing, though from the absolutely crazy story he told us, I’d say he has a bit of fiction writer in him.”

  “Then I’m betting with you,” Eddie said.

  Fresh drinks waited for them when they returned to their table. Frankie and Adele were standing outside on the balcony, preparing for the start of the next race. Eddie and Josie joined them.

  “Hope your prediction proves correct, Frankie. I put all my money on the six horse. If it doesn’t win, I’ll be living off my credit card for the rest of my vacation.”

  “Hey, no guarantees,” Frankie said.

  The starting bell rang as they watched the horses bound out of the gate. The three horse was almost too fast for Frankie’s scenario to occur. Almost. The four veered toward the rail, bumping into the three horse. The collision caused the three to impede the path of the one and the two. Taking advantage of the chaos, the six-horse raced into the lead, holding it all the way through to the finish line. Josie and Eddie were going wild.

  Eddie clutched Josie to him, twirling her twice before returning her feet to the balcony.

  “Oh my God!” he said. “We won.”

  The other spectators on the balcony weren’t so happy, most of them frowning as they wadded their tickets and tossed them into the trash. Eddie and Josie, smiling as they counted their money, were soon back at their table overlooking the track.

  “How much did you win?” Adele asked.

  “Almost three grand,” Eddie said. “Gonna be a hot time in the old town tonight.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Frankie said. “You amateur betters are all the same. You’ll be penniless when you leave the track.”

  “No more tips?”

  Frankie crossed his arms. “You’re on your own, big boy. My horse is running in the next race. Hold the fort down up here. Josie, Adele and me are gonna watch from the owner’s box near the track.”

  Eddie blew Josie a kiss as she, her dad and Adele disappeared down the escalator. He wasn’t alone for long.

  Chapter 3

  I’d almost forgotten about attending the races with Eddie Toledo. Bertram Picou, my landlord, and owner of the French Quarter bar I lived above, reminded me when I wandered downstairs.

  “Kinda running a little late,” he said.

  A gloomy fall day outside, the bar was practically empty, Bertram sitting on a barstool, rubbing Lady, his dog’s head.

  “What?” I said.

  “Eddie left here more than an hour ago. Said you were meeting him at the track to watch the ponies run.”

  “Damn,” I said. “Can I borrow an umbrella?”

  Bertram reached behind the bar, handing me a Mardi Gras colored umbrella complete with fleur de lis. He called to me as I rushed out the door.

  “Hey, don’t forget where you got it.”

  ***

  When Eddie wasn’t in the grandstand, I knew I’d find him in his favorite track bar. Instead of the two beautiful women he’d told me who’d be joining us, he was sitting alone at the best table in the house.

  “Where you been?” he asked. “The races are half over.”

  “Sorry. Where are the two babes you promised, and how did you manage to snag the best table in the place?”

  “The two ditzy blonds were no-shows. Just as well becaus
e I ran into Adele and Frankie Castellano, and Frankie’s daughter Josie. I gotta tell you, Wyatt, I think I’m in love.”

  “First time this week?”

  “Don’t make fun. This time, I’m serious.”

  “Sitting with the Castellanos explains the table. Where are they?”

  “Frankie has a horse running in the next race. They’re watching it from the owner’s box down by the track.”

  “Aren’t you afraid that some of your cohorts might see you with the Don of the Bayou?”

  “I have clearance, as long as I report anything suspicious I learn to my boss.”

  “If you go to hell for lying, seems to me you’d already have one foot pointed south,” I said.

  “All in the way you spin a tale,” he said.

  I could only shake my head as I grabbed the binoculars resting on the table.

  “You mind?”

  “Knock yourself out. Take a look and give me your best pick.”

  The horses were parading up to the starting gate, a spotted bay bucking and kicking up turf.

  “I don’t even have to think twice about this one,” I said. “The big black horse will win by a length or two.”

  “Hardly. It’s a forty to one long shot.”

  “No way. Let me see your program.”

  Eddie sipped his scotch as I studied the racing form.

  “This says the name of the black horse is Warmonger. I don’t think so. Looks like another quarter horse to me,” I said.

  “I doubt it,” Eddie said. “Frankie bought the nag for next to nothing so he’d have a horse running today. Josie says it’s never won a race.”

  “That horse isn’t Warmonger, and he’s won lots of races.”

  “How do you know that?” Eddie asked.

  “You know I never forget a face.”

  “That’s a horse, not a person.”

  “You have a short memory,” I said. “We both won money on him last time we hung out at the off-track betting site in the Quarter.”

  “Let me see,” he said.

  Handing him the binoculars, I watched as he studied the horses.

  “Now that you mention it, he does look familiar,” he said. “Except that horse had a . . .”

  “Lightning blaze on his forehead. His name was Lightning Bolt. Undefeated in ten races.”

  “That’s the name Josie called him. Shit!” he said, suddenly remembering something. “The blaze is gone because Frankie used shoe polish to dye it. Why would he do that?”

  “Shenanigans,” I said.

  Eddie glanced at the time on his cell phone. “Let’s place a bet. We still have a few minutes before they load.”

  “You’re a Federal D.A. You can’t bet on this race if you know it’s rigged.”

  “Nothing is stopping you from betting the farm,” he said, counting out almost three thousand dollars in cash. “I’m lending you half of this. Bet it all on Lightning Bolt. You can pay me back with the winnings.”

  “Where’d you get so much money?” I asked.

  “Frankie placed a bet for me while his daughter was showing me his new horse. It won.”

  “Must have been a long shot,” I said. “You think Frankie had insider information?”

  “Hell, he’s the Don of the Bayou. What do you think?”

  I didn’t bother responding to Eddie’s question because we both knew what the likely answer was.

  “What difference does it make who places the bet? If they find out about it, won’t your employers see it as the same difference?”

  “If you do it, then I’ll have plausible deniability,” he said.

  “You lawyers are all a sorry bunch,” I said.

  He was grinning as I took the money and headed toward the cashier.

  “Yes we are, Mr. Disbarred Attorney.”

  I let the remark pass as I headed toward the betting window. Eddie had a pitcher of lemonade waiting for me when I returned to the table.

  “Don’t worry about the drinks,” he said. “I’m buying.”

  “Thanks, moneybags,” I said, showing him the betting voucher. “Where do you think Frankie got the horse?”

  “Wasn’t it running at a track in Oklahoma when we bet on it?”

  “You’re right. I can see how the locals might not recognize the horse as a plant. What about the jockey and the trainer?”

  Eddie tapped his glass against mine. “Don’t know. If Lightning Bolt wins, we’ll be rich and won’t have to worry about it.”

  “And if he doesn’t, we’ll each be out almost fifteen hundred dollars.”

  “C’est la vie,” he said. “I didn’t have it when I walked in the door.”

  “No, but I’ll still owe you my half.”

  “I’ll worry about that if it happens,” he said. “Meanwhile, let’s enjoy the moment.”

  “Better enjoy it fast,” I said. “They’re starting to load.”

  “Then let’s go out on the balcony.”

  “You can’t see any better from out there than you can from here.”

  “No, but if we lose, I can jump over the edge.”

  “Shut the hell up, Eddie,” I said as I followed him out to the balcony.

  This was the big race of the day, the balcony crowded with spectators. The starting bell rang as we tried to get closer to the railing. We didn’t quite make it as Lightning Bolt broke cleanly from the gate, a full half-length ahead before he’d gone a hundred yards. He won by three lengths, everyone giving Eddie and me dirty looks as we screamed and cheered. Finally realizing we were a minority in the crowd, I grabbed Eddie’s arm and pulled him back into the dimly lit bar.

  “Wait for me,” I said. “I’m going to cash this before I lose it.”

  Eddie, a big grin still on his face, was motioning our waitress for more drinks.

  “Go for it,” he said.

  I returned with a check for sixty-six thousand dollars. “Got it,” I said.

  “What took you so long?”

  “Had to fill out a butt-load of paperwork for the I.R.S. I’m getting thirty-three thousand dollars less the fifteen-hundred I owe you, but it’s me that’s going to get a W2-G for sixty-six thousand dollars.”

  “Deal with it, loser,” he said. “And keep the fifteen-hundred. You deserve a fifty-fifty split seeing as you were the one that recognized the horse.”

  “Let’s hope we don’t get mugged before we leave the place. I’d hate to lose my share before I have a chance to pay Bertram his rent this month.”

  “There’s a mail drop in the gift shop. I’ll bet they have stamps there. Put the check in a birthday card and send it to yourself in the mail.”

  “You trust the U.S. mail?”

  “More than I trust you and me. You were causing quite a scene on the balcony.”

  “Me?” I said. “You were pounding an old man’s back so hard you practically knocked him over the railing.”

  “Then hurry up and go to the gift shop. You may have jinxed us by blabbering about being mugged.”

  They did have stamps in the shop. The cashier smiled when she rang up the birthday card I’d bought.

  “That one’s very funny,” she said. “Who’s having a birthday?”

  “Friend of mine,” I said, paying for the card. “Better also ring up one of those souvenir pens.”

  “Surely that’s not the present you’re buying,” she said.

  “No way. This is for me.”

  “To remember your day at the track?”

  “Don’t need a souvenir pen for that. I just need it to address the envelope.”

  After stuffing the check into the birthday card, I kissed it before dropping it into the mailbox. I was halfway out the door when I returned to see what time the mail would go out. Smiling at the nosy cashier, I waved and hurried back out the door.

  “Well?” Eddie said when I rejoined him.

  “Check’s in the mail,” I said.

  Eddie had the binoculars in his hand. “Funny. The Castellanos just
left the winner’s circle. Looks like they got one big trophy.”

  “Bet that isn’t all he’s collecting. If we made sixty-six grand, I can only imagine how much he’s going to get.”

  “At least ten times as much,” Eddie said.

  “Can’t imagine he’d be so blatant. If we figured out the scam, how many others did as well?”

  “Maybe that’s the point. He told me before you got here that Mexican drug lords are pretty much running the quarter horse game right now. Maybe he’s trying to pick a fight with them.”

  “And the authorities?”

  Eddie pushed the binoculars across the table. “They’re probably already in Frankie’s pocket. I doubt he has anything to worry about there.”

  “Sounds like the opening salvo of an old-fashioned turf fight. Maybe you better sever your connections with Frankie’s daughter before you get in too deep.”

  “I know this may sound crazy. I’m sensing Josie doesn’t have a clue her father is a gangster.”

  “What makes you think so?” I asked.

  “Some of the things she’s said. Either she’s the best actress in the world, or else doesn’t know what business her father’s in.”

  “Surely someone would have told her by now. She can’t be that naïve.”

  Eddie fidgeted with the straw in his drink. “You really think I should forget about her and move on down the road?”

  “That’s what I’d do if I were you. You know lots of women. This one can’t be that much more special.”

  “You’re about to see for yourself. Here they come. And Wyatt, I think we should keep it to ourselves about winning big money on Frankie’s horse.”

  “Probably a good idea.”

  Frankie had a large silver trophy in his arms. When they joined us, I was too stunned to react, other than to stare at the gorgeous young woman like a bumbling fool.

  “Told you she was a knockout,” Eddie said.

  “I’m Josie,” the woman said. “Frankie’s daughter.”

  Adele grabbed me around the waist and hugged me. “You look like you seen a ghost,” she said.

  Frankie had a smug grin on his face as he put the trophy in the center of our table, and then shook my hand.

  “My beautiful daughter has that effect on men.”