Sisters of the Mist

by Eric Wilder

  “Just one of the many reasons,” she said. “I also give a mean back massage.”

  “The best. Everyone grab a chair. I’m anxious to hear what Eddie and Tony learned after making me go to the house.”

  “You were welcome to come along,” Tony said.

  “I know,” Frankie said. “I enjoy watching you boys work, and I almost did. The little lady here always wants me to come home at a decent hour.”

  “You know you love it,” she said.

  “Baby, you bet I do,” he said, giving her bottom a friendly pinch. “As much as I want to hear what happened, there’ll be no discussing business while we eat. After dinner, we’ll sit on the porch, and you two can catch me up on what you learned today.”

  Between bites of pasta, Lil reached over and squeezed Tony’s hand. “I’m so glad you’re not a cop anymore,” she said. “You were never home early. Always more like four in the morning.”

  “We were both younger then,” Tony said. “I hope I never have to leave home in the middle of the night again to oversee a homicide investigation. Those days are behind me.”

  “What about the other night?”

  “A once in a blue moon event. Tommy needed my help, and I was happy to give it to him. Where’s Patchy?”

  “I swear you care more about that dog than you do me.”

  Tony got tomato sauce on her face when he leaned over and kissed her cheek.

  “You know that ain’t true,” he said.

  “Patch and Silky are asleep at the bungalow. There’s a doggie door, and they both love the place. I wish you weren’t working so you could enjoy it with us.”

  Tony bent his head closer to her and held his voice down so that Frankie wouldn’t hear him talking about business.

  “Eddie and me are close on this one. Might even have an answer for Frankie as early as tomorrow. Then we’ll have plenty of time to enjoy this place together. Frankie’s already told me that he and Adele expect us to stay another week after I solve the case for him.”

  “Good because I just love it here. Adele and I rode horses today, played tennis, and then went swimming in the heated pool. We even had a massage from a professional masseur. I’m so tired, I’ll probably fall asleep the minute my head hits the pillow.”

  “We’ll see about that,” he said.

  Slightly tipsy after two glasses of Chianti, Lil didn’t even try to stifle a giggle.

  Frankie’s good mood continued, bolstered by Adele’s pasta and the bottle of Monkey Shoulder. He didn’t let the bottle get far away, and he carried it with him when they sauntered out to the partially covered deck.

  The night was cool, and the fog gone for the moment, wafted away by a gentle breeze. Someone had lit the large fire pit, and they found places to sit on the couches and chairs that circled around it. Tony closed his eyes, almost nodding off when he and Lil sank into one of the comfortable porch couches.

  “Oh no you don’t,” Frankie said, topping up his scotch. “No one goes to sleep until I hear your report. What you got for me?”

  “Let me get Eddie over here, and we’ll tell you,” Tony said.

  Eddie was paying no attention to Frankie or anyone else except Josie. He was sprawled in a big recliner, Josie draped across his lap and playing with his hair.

  “Hey, break it up you two,” Frankie said, grinning. “You two ain’t married yet, and we need Eddie’s input over here.”

  Josie bounded out of Eddie’s lap, sat in her dad’s and gave him a hug.

  “Spoilsport,” she said.

  Before Josie could return to the recliner, Eddie moved over to the couch, sandwiching Lil between him and Tony as the word yet reverberated in his head.

  “Does anyone need me to top up their scotch or wine before we get started?” Frankie asked.

  Not waiting for an answer, he began topping up all their drinks. When the bottle of Chianti ran dry, he opened another.

  “Now,” he said. “If everyone’s situated on drinks, I want to hear about your trip to Pinky’s.”

  “Pinky wasn’t around,” Tony said. “Didn’t make any difference because our bartender was plenty talkative. We learned a bunch.”

  “Tell me,” Frankie said.

  “First thing we found out was Angus Anderson, and Diego Contrado had drinks at the bar the night Contrado was murdered.”

  “Makes sense,” Frankie said. “They was together at the track bar the night of the race.”

  “Apparently, everything wasn’t so hunky dory with them. They had an argument at Pinky’s that made the bartender very uncomfortable. Anderson got so mad, he stomped out of the restaurant. He left Contrado alone at the bar, mumbling under his breath, according to the bartender.”

  “What were they arguing about?” Frankie asked. “Did he know?”

  Tony sipped his scotch and leaned forward, out of the grasp of the comfortable couch.

  “Something about a horse Contrado had sold to Anderson,” he said. “Supposedly, the deal went bad, and Contrado refused to give Anderson his money back. The bartender didn’t know any of the details.”

  “Figures,” Frankie said. “Those two are always at the track together. Makes sense that they had dealings in the horse business.”

  “Any ideas on the horse they were arguing about?” Tony asked.

  “Those two love quarter horses. I only keep up with thoroughbreds. Josie may know something.”

  She was already searching the internet using her cell phone.

  “If there’s something on the net about it, I’ll find it,” she said.

  “What else?” Frankie asked.

  “The bartender gave us an alibi for Bruno Baresi,” Tony said.

  “Like what? My five-hundred dollar per hour lawyers haven’t found anything yet.”

  “Figures,” Eddie said.

  “What’s your problem with expensive lawyers?”

  “Maybe I just wish I was one,” Eddie said, grinning.”

  “That’s not your only reason,” Frankie said. “Tell me why you really feel that way.”

  “In my experience, white-collar law firms have little reason to solve their client’s problem only to get off the sugar tit. They usually keep sucking until you finally have to wrench them loose.”

  “If what you say is true, then what should I do about it?” Frankie asked.

  “If it were my money, I’d fire them and hire a couple of hungry hundred-dollar per hour lawyers.”

  “All lawyers are supposed to act professionally. Especially those in the law firms I hire.”

  “No matter how much they charge an hour, they’re all human. In your case, I say they haven’t even tried to do you a good job.”

  “How can you be so sure of that?”

  “Because it took Tony and me less than two hours to learn Bruno wasn’t at Pinky’s the night Contrado was killed.”

  “Impossible. Bruno would have said something by now, not to mention the cops found his pistol near the murder scene.”

  “Planted,” Tony said.

  “You’d better explain,” Frankie said.

  “Crooked cops conducted the investigation, and it was a farce,” Eddie said. “The only person they interviewed was Pinky. Louis, the bartender, says Bruno was on a sailboat on Pontchartrain with his girlfriend.”

  “How would he know that?” Frankie asked.

  “Bruno’s girlfriend is his sister. According to him, he even knows the size of Bruno’s underwear,” Tony said.

  “Then who’s side is Pinky on, and why hasn’t Bruno told this to the lawyers?”

  “Don’t know who’s side Pinky is on other than it’s not yours,” Eddie said.

  Frankie’s smile had disappeared. “I’ll worry about Pinky later. Tell me about Bruno.”

  Bruno’s more afraid of his old lady, according to Louis than a charge of first-degree murder,” Eddie said. “Want me to have a come to Jesus talk with your fancy lawyers for you? We’ll have Bruno out of jail tomorrow.”

 
“Likely soon to be divorced Bruno, or maybe even murdered by his old lady,” Tony said.

  Still focusing his attention on Eddie, Frankie ignored Tony’s comment.

  “You’d talk to the lawyers for me?” he asked.

  “Sure I will,” Eddie said. “Sounds like they need to be taken down a notch or two and I’m just the man to do it for you.”

  “You’re on,” Frankie said. “If Bruno didn’t pull the trigger, then who killed Contrado?”

  “Lonzo Galvez,” Eddie said. “Angus Anderson’s bodyguard. The same person that took your trophy from Wyatt and me. The same trophy found at the murder scene of your trainer and jockey.”

  “Angus is politically connected. I doubt he’d ever be charged, much less convicted of murder. At least not in Orleans Parish.”

  “We’re working on the political corruption aspect of New Orleans at the Federal D.A.’s office,” Eddie said. “Problem is there are so many crooks in city hall, we’re having a hard time figuring out where to start.”

  “Nobody knows that better than me,” Frankie said. “Around here, you just gotta play the game. You want to do something about it, you got to start at the top and work your way down.”

  “That’s what we’re figuring out,” Eddie said.

  “What about Lightning Bolt?”

  “Eddie and I think he’s probably at Anderson’s horse farm. Just a gut feeling because we have no proof.”

  “Even if Lightning Bolt is still alive, we wonder why he would want the horse,” Eddie said. “Unless Anderson needs a pet because he can’t race or breed him.”

  Josie wasn’t paying attention to the conversation as she worked the digits on her cell phone, searching the web.

  “I found something you’re just not going to believe,” she said.

  Chapter 31

  A damp breeze had begun blowing up from the south, the fog beginning to disappear. It was soon replaced by gentle rain, its fine mist dampening the edges of the covered deck. Lil leaned closer to the fire pit to warm her hands. Adele hurried inside, returning with sweaters for herself, Josie and Lil.

  “Baby, don’t keep us in suspense,” Frankie said.

  “Maybe this is what we’re looking for. Baja Racing sold a champion quarter horse to Angus Anderson three months ago for almost six million dollars.”

  “You got to be kidding. How much did you say he paid?” Tony asked.

  “Just under six million bucks,” Josie said.

  “Who is Baja Racing?” Eddie asked.

  “Just a sec and I’ll find out.” After another quick search, she said, “A corporation, though it looks like Diego Contrado is the primary stockholder.”

  “Bingo,” Tony said. “Good work, Josie.”

  “The horse’s name is Lightning in a Bottle,” she said. “And listen to this.”

  “What?” Tony and Eddie said at the same time.

  “I checked the pedigree section of the quarter horse association’s website. The horse Angus Anderson bought from Baja Racing is a full brother—same sire, same dam—to Lightning Bolt.”

  “So what?” Frankie asked. “Those two buy and sell horses every day. It might not mean anything.”

  “Maybe not,” Eddie said. “It’s still one hell of a coincidence that the two horses are full brothers.”

  “Maybe he likes the bloodline,” Frankie said.

  Something about the tone of Frankie’s voice made them both reluctant to answer his questions. Josie wasn’t afraid of her father and asked something of her own.

  “Then why did Anderson want Contrado to return his money?” Josie asked.

  “Baby, I don’t have a clue,” Frankie said.

  “Anderson’s horse farm is no more than five miles from here,” she said. “Let’s take a look at his stables. Now’s a perfect time.”

  “Probably not a bad idea,” Tony said.

  “I’m in,” Eddie said.

  Josie was beaming. “We’ll need dark clothing. We have black sweatsuits with hoods at the spa.”

  “Baby, you’re not going anywhere,” Frankie said.

  “And why may I ask not?”

  “Too dangerous. The cartel has men out there, even at this hour. That’s not to mention you could get shot trespassing on Anderson’s property.”

  “I’m the only one that knows the way to Anderson’s farm. Since I was the real estate agent that sold it to him, I know the location of every barn, stable and house on the place, and I also know what Lightning Bolt looks like.”

  Frankie downed his glass of scotch in one swallow. “What do you intend to do if Lightning Bolt is there; steal him and then ride him home?”

  “Sounds like a perfect plan to me,” she said.

  “Not a bad idea,” Eddie said. “I’ll ride him.”

  “Bullshit!” Frankie said. “You’ve never even been on a horse and you damn sure ain’t starting out on a crazy dangerous stallion like Lightning Bolt.”

  “Don’t look at me,” Tony said. “I never been on a horse, either.”

  “Good, then no one is going tonight. I’ll take some boys over tomorrow and get the horse myself.”

  “No you won’t,” Josie said. “Anderson’s place is probably an armed camp right about now; same as Murky Bayou is. They’ll stop you at the front gate. If you ever manage to get in, the horse will be gone when you reach the stable. Then, what will you tell Jojo?”

  “Speaking of that, I got something I need to fess up to.”

  “What?”

  “I didn’t really buy Lightning Bolt, I borrowed him from someone I know. If we get him back, then I need to return him to his rightful owner.”

  Her dad’s answer confused her, and she took a moment to say, “Can’t you just explain the situation and then buy Lightning Bolt from him?”

  “Baby, you don’t understand. The man who owns him is one of the few people on earth that has more money than me; lots more money than me, and Lightning Bolt is one of his prized possessions.”

  She thought for a minute and then said, “You’re good at fixing things. You always did when I was growing up. Can’t you fix this for me and Jojo?”

  “I’m sorry, Baby. I wish I could,” Frankie said.

  “Let’s get the horse and then worry about it,” Eddie said. “I have an idea that might work.”

  Josie clutched Eddie’s hand. “If you can manage that, you’ll be my hero, and Jojo and I will love you forever.”

  ***

  Josie was having none of her dad’s warnings. Dressed like ninja warriors, she, Eddie, and Tony were soon on their way to Angus Anderson’s farm. The rain had stopped and the ground fog was rapidly returning.

  The area was hilly and all but the main road to the horse ranch constructed of dirt. Josie knew every backroad in the parish and directed Tony to a hill overlooking the large farm.

  “Kill your lights before you reach the top of the hill,” she said.

  “How am I supposed to know when to stop?” he asked.

  “I’ll tell you.”

  Before reaching the top of the rise, they began to see the lights of the horse farm. Josie pointed at a large building down the hill.

  “The one with all the lights is the security building,” she said. “That’s where they view their security cameras and dispatch people to patrol the place. There’s only one guard at the front gate.”

  “You sure?” Tony asked.

  “I told you, I was the real estate agent that brokered the sale. I had the farm on the market for almost a year and visited it more times than I can count. Believe me when I tell you that I know it like the back of my hand.”

  “How do you intend to enter the property without being seen?” Tony asked.

  “A dirt road that doubles as a firebreak circles the farm. There are no lights or security cameras in the open fields in the back portion of the farm. You stay here. Eddie and I will hike in.”

  “More power to you,” he said. “My knees are repaired, but I’m not ready to test the
m with a hike like you’re talking about.”

  “I don’t know about Eddie. I jog almost every day. For me, it’ll be a piece of cake.”

  Eddie wasn’t so sure. “I’d feel better about it if I hadn’t drunk half a bottle of Monkey Shoulder. At least I’m loose. Wish we had a flashlight.”

  Tony reached into his glove box, found a small flashlight and handed it to Eddie.

  “I never go anywhere without it,” he said.

  Eddie slipped it into the pouch of his black sweatshirt. He and Josie had darkened their faces. When they pulled the hoods over their heads, they looked like Special Forces troops. Eddie’s head was throbbing, and he didn’t feel much like an elite soldier.

  “Either of you have an aspirin?” he asked.

  Tony handed him a bottle from his glovebox and gave him his flask of scotch to wash it down.

  “Maybe I just need a little hair of the dog instead of these aspirins. How about lending me your flask?” he said.

  “Your ass,” Tony said. “You had a chance to bring some of your own. Here, take a good belt. Don’t forget to leave some for me.”

  Eddie drank until he started coughing, and liquor dribbled down his neck. Josie just shook her head.

  “Don’t take all night.” When Eddie belched, she said, “Maybe you better forget about what I said about loving you forever.”

  Ignoring Josie’s rebuke, Eddie returned the flask to Tony. “I’m good now. Let’s do it.”

  Damp fog washed over them as they left the warmth of Tony’s car and started down the hill toward the dirt road that encircled Anderson’s horse farm. Visibility was almost nil and the going slow. When Josie bumped into the fence, she knew that they were where they needed to be.

  “The back pasture is on the other side of the fence, the stable area just beyond a practice track. It’s about a half mile to the barns. You up for it?”

  “How are we going to stay on course. I can barely see you, much less a half mile in the distance.”

  “There’s a fence that divides this area into two pastures. One is for the stallions, the other for mares and their colts. It goes all the way to the railing on the practice track. We’ll follow the outside fence until we reach it.”