MICHAELA SAT DOWN AT THE BAR, SHOVING down her emotion, trying hard to keep from crying. Had Camden’s greed for the good life come before loyalty and friendship? Could money and Kevin’s love be that important to her? Enough to betray? Enough to . . . kill?
“A Coke, please. Can you make sure no one takes my seat? I have to go to the restroom.”
He winked at her. “You got it.”
When she came back there was a glass of white wine waiting for her, not a Coke. She called the bartender back over and pointed at the wine. “I didn’t order wine. I asked for a Coke.”
“Yeah.” He tossed a dish towel over his shoulder, and leaned against the bar, his dirty blonde, longish hair falling down in front of his eyes.
“Yeah. Can you take it back?”
The bartender lifted his head, tossed back the hair, and gazed past her. “That would be rude, don’t you think,” a voice from behind her said.
Her stomach dropped as she recognized the voice and turned to face her ex-husband. “Brad.”
He looked at her with his light brown eyes, the kind that made you wonder if they were green, hazel, or brown. They were brown. Poop brown. He ran a hand through his hair, which she was glad to see was thinning. The hair was the same color as the poop-brown eyes. His other hand was wrapped around a drink. Surely a gin and tonic: a mean man’s drink, as far as she was concerned.
“I can stand.” He squeezed himself in between the chair, the bar and her.
She pulled as far from him as she could and crossed her arms. “What do you want?”
“I wanted to say hi. Is that a crime?”
She laughed. “It’s all a crime when it comes to you.”
“Now, now, sweetie, you know that’s not true . . . or fair.”
Michaela eyed the wine. Suddenly it looked good. She took a long sip from it. “I am not your sweetie.” She poked him in the chest. “And, I would appreciate it if you would leave now. Don’t you have your Barbie doll to keep you company? What’s she doing? Making sure her lipstick is just so?”
“My, you have gotten nasty. I’m having a drink with Bean.” He nodded at a table in the corner where Michaela spotted Bean, who looked shell-shocked while drinking what appeared to be a Shirley Temple.
“What are you doing with that poor man?”
“We’re friends.”
“Friends, my butt! You used Bean while you worked for my uncle and you’re up to something now with him, aren’t you?”
“God, Michaela, always so suspicious.”
“Of you. Uh, yeah. With good reason, I might add.”
“Bean called me. He said that he wanted someone to talk to about Lou. He’s sad.”
“I don’t believe you.”
He shrugged. “It’s the truth. Guy needs a friend right now. He’s all distraught and so I told him that I’d take him out for some dinner and we could talk. Honest.”
“Great, now leave.”
“Don’t be like that. I wanted to come by and say hello, buy you a drink. We used to sleep together, after all.”
“Don’t remind me.”
“Look Mick, I really just came over to tell you I was sorry to hear about Lou. I figured you’re having a hard time. I know how close you were with the guy and Bean says that you’ve been pretty upset. So, I’m sorry. I am.”
If she could have crawled inside the barstool she was seated on, she would have. She eyed him. Frankly she was getting sick and tired of people saying things she doubted they meant. “Sure. I bet you are.”
“Why would you say that? Of course I’m sorry.”
“Please, Brad. It’s no secret that you weren’t exactly pleased you got caught all tangled up with Miss Do-Si-Do. I think you had a plan from the get-go. You wanted to have your cake and eat it, too, but you choked on it, and it was my uncle who saw to it that you choked.”
Brad rolled his eyes. “Is that what you told that cop who came around asking both me and Kirsten a ton of questions? Were you the one to tell him that I have some vendetta toward you? You know that’s not true. I don’t appreciate having police at my back door looking into my personal life.”
“Oh, and like you didn’t tell the detective that I was so in love with you and wanted a baby so much that I was happier being in the dark about your affair. That I was angry with my uncle for showing me the truth. I’m sure you don’t appreciate the police having a peek at your personal life. It hasn’t exactly been stellar. But, I’m also sure that you have nothing to hide either. God knows you’ve never kept any dirty little secrets from me.”
“You will not let it go, will you?”
“Excuse me?”
“Me, you, this bitterness you feel over me and Kirsten. I know you pulled that little horseshit stunt on me the other night. I’m not too happy about it, but I’ll let it go. See that’s the kind of guy I am. I’m a good guy. You need to let it all go, too, sweetheart.”
“Brad, trust me when I say that I have let it go, but it doesn’t mean I have to associate with you at all . . . and why in the world would I ever believe anything you say is sincere and truthful?”
“Dammit, Michaela, it was one mistake. One little mistake. So, I fooled around. She came on to me, and damn . . . well, she threw herself at me, and most men I know would have done exactly the same thing that I did. I didn’t mean for it to get out of hand. I didn’t want to carry on with her. It just sort of happened. And yes, I was not happy that Lou got involved in it. He should have stayed out of it, but he didn’t. I know he thought of you like his own daughter and that he was trying to protect you, but I would have come around and we could have worked it out, if he hadn’t sent you those pictures. I don’t love her. I never have and never will, not like I love you. Come on Mick, I do, I still love you. Give me another chance. Let’s work it out. We can keep trying to have a baby and I’ll be there this time for you. I know how bad I messed up. I miss you a lot.” He touched her shoulder; she swatted his hand away.
Michaela could hardly find words. “How dare you!”
“What?”
“How in the hell did I ever marry someone like you? I must’ve been drugged or insane. I can’t believe my ears. One little mistake? No, it was a giant mistake and not just one time either. She came on to you? Hmm, well I don’t remember anywhere in the vows we took, it stating that it was okay to be unfaithful if the other party instigates it. Or that just because you can get it up when a hot girl struts by doesn’t mean you have to say yes. And, as far as my uncle doing the right thing? You bet he did. I’m so grateful every day for what he did. Work it out? Now you want to come back to me? And, you even have the audacity to mention trying to have a child with me, when you damn well know that we, and let me state it again—we— owe thousands in medical bills to an infertility specialist, which you won’t cough up. You have to send your girlfriend over to hound me to sign divorce papers and you won’t even meet your obligations? My guess is the only reason you’re even suggesting any kind of reconciliation is that Kirsten threw you out on your ass tonight for some reason and you need a place to go. I suspect that right about now, tucking your tail and trying to convince me to take you back is rather appealing. And as far as love . . . Well, I believe you don’t love Kirsten, and know what, I believe you don’t love me, because the only thing a selfish prick like you can love is yourself.”
“Why, you little—”
“Everything okay here?” Michaela turned to see Joey Pellegrino, beer in one hand, the other clenched. “Is he bothering you?”
“I am not bothering her,” Brad spat back. “We’re having a private conversation.”
“Actually, he is bothering me.”
“The lady says you are. It looks like your ‘private conversation’ is over. I think that if you want to wake up in the morning looking as you do tonight— uh, in one piece, that is— then I suggest you leave.” Joey stared at him.
That stare alone would have done the job, but the words . . . oh they were great, too.
Brad started to say something, then walked away mumbling under his breath.
“Thank you,” Michaela said. Her hands were shaking and she decided to finish off the wine in one fell swoop.
“Easy there. He really got to you, didn’t he?”
“I guess. He knows how to get under my skin.”
Joey sat down next to her. “My offer still stands. I know some people, a few friends of some of my cousins who could make his life fairly miserable.”
“No. I’m fine. Don’t do anything foolish. I appreciate the thought, though. Hey, where is Marianne?”
“She and the kids are in the restaurant. I came in here for a beer. She doesn’t like me to drink in front of the kids.”
“Oh, the boss, huh?”
“Yeah, you know, I gotta do the right thing for the kids, and honestly I had to get away from them for five minutes. Joey Jr. is a handful. Kid is practically climbing the walls, screaming in my ear. And, then the baby on top of it, I tell you, it’s enough to make me crazy sometimes. Anyway, I don’t have a lot of time, and it’s good you’re here. I found something out about who your dad owes, and how much.”
“Who?”
“Danny Amalfi, my aunt Luisa’s godmother’s brother’s son.”
“Huh?”
“It don’t matter. He’s a lowlife bookie and low man on the totem pole in the family. But your pop is into him for a hundred grand and keeps coming back. Danny don’t say no, he just keeps racking up the debt knowing that your pop has some land and his credit probably ain’t so great, that’s why he doesn’t borrow on it to gamble with. Danny’s thinking he can get himself a nice little ranch out of this deal, if he plays his cards right.”
“My mother would have to sign any papers having to do with their home and property.”
“Right. She’s the boss, too. Women. But she may have no choice, if your pop keeps sinking the ship. Anyway, Danny tells my cousin Pauly that he can force your pop to give up his land if he hooks him for a few more grand.”
“Oh, God, no. This is bad. Do you think Danny had anything to do with my uncle’s murder?”
“No. Danny might be one to break a kneecap or two, but he’s a wuss, and like I told you, it’s code that you don’t go after a guy’s family.”
“Okay. I suppose that’s a positive,” Michaela replied. “But what am I going to do about my dad?”
“You gotta talk to him.”
“I know.”
“Listen, you get your dad to stop this nonsense. I think I can handle Danny. He owes me a favor, a big one. I think I can maybe make this thing go away for your dad, or at least get it reduced.”
Michaela was stunned. “You would do that?”
“We’re friends. You’re a good lady. You’ve had it rough lately, so let me see if I can help.”
She threw her arms around him. “Thank you so much. Oh God, I’ll pay you back when I can. I will.”
He pulled away and was definitely blushing now. “It’s nothing. You talk to your pop.”
“I will, I promise. Thank you again. I won’t forget it.”
“I better head out. You got a ride home?”
“Don’t worry about me. I’ll get home.”
“I don’t think Mr. Shifty will bother you again.”
They said goodbye. She decided it was time to get a cab home. She’d had just about enough, and tracking down Camden and Kevin wasn’t an option. She was still pretty angry and she was sure Camden’s feelings were mutual.
She headed out of the restaurant, careful not to be followed be Brad or Camden. She didn’t see either of them. Good. It was brisk outside and she buttoned up her jacket.
“Michaela.” Dwayne and Sam walked toward her. “What you doing?” Dwayne asked.
“I’m waiting for a cab.”
“You have a bit of the drink, huh?” Sam asked. She nodded, not wanting to get into all of it. “Well, how far you live?”
“Ten minutes.”
“Ah, ten minutes, cuz, let’s give her a ride home,” Sam said.
“Yeah, definitely. Come on.”
Michaela shook her head. “No guys, that’s okay. Looks like you just got here. Go on in. I’ll be fine.”
“Ah, c’mon.” Dwayne put an arm around her. “Sam don’t need to eat nuthin’, anyway.”
Sam rolled his eyes. “Why you always gotta do that?”
“What?”
“Insult me? Ever since we been kids, you talking about my eating and how big I am. Just ’cause you scrawny.”
Dwayne laughed. At first Michaela wasn’t sure Sam was kidding, but then he started laughing, too, and as the breeze picked up, and exhaustion began wearing on her mind and body, she agreed to a ride home.
Dwayne drove an older Bronco. The car smelled of horses and saddle soap, which was perfect as far as she was concerned. “You doing okay?” Dwayne asked.
“I guess. And you?”
“Me too. Sam and I been talking about it.”
“Yeah, still can’t believe it,” Sam said. “But, let’s talk about something else. We been through a lot.”
Michaela nodded.
“How’s Rocky?” Dwayne asked. “You still wanting to show him?”
“I don’t know. I’m actually thinking that I need to geld him.” She told him about Rocky’s field day.
“He figure out that pastures are greener on the other side,” Sam said.
Michaela laughed. “I guess so. But that old place isn’t exactly next door. I mean, he really had to follow his nose.”
“Acting like he had some loving before, by doing that,” Sam replied.
“Nah, like Michaela said, he just following his nose,” Dwayne said.
“Yeah, I s’pose. Stud horse been bred or not still got the instinct.”
“Oh my God,” Michaela blurted.
“What?” Dwayne asked.
“That’s it. Oh, my God. How come I didn’t think of it until now? That’s it.” Her mind reeled.
“What she talking about, cuz? What you talking about, girl—shit. Goddammit! What the hell!” Sam yelled. He kicked the back of Michaela’s seat.
Michaela turned around to face Sam. His body stiffened, and his eyes rolled back into their sockets. “Dwayne? Dwayne!” Michaela cried.
Dwayne turned. “Oh no!” He pulled the off the road and braked.
“What is it? What’s going on?” Michaela yelled.
“In the back. Lift the hatch, get his duffel out. Get it!” Dwayne ordered.
Michaela complied as Dwayne climbed into the back seat with Sam. She handed it to him. Dwayne opened the bag, pulled out a bottle of pills and shoved one down Sam’s throat. He held his mouth shut. “Swallow. Swallow. Juice. There’s juice in the front. In the glove compartment.”
Michaela suddenly realized that Sam was having a diabetic seizure. She found the juice and gave it to Dwayne. A few minutes later, Sam seemed to be doing much better.
“Are you okay, Sam?” she asked. “I didn’t know you’re a diabetic.”
“Oh yeah.”
“That’s why I tell him not to eat so much,” Dwayne said, pulling back out onto the highway.
“That’s why I tell you I needed to eat.” Sam laughed, trying to make light of the situation. “Sorry about my cussin’. Happens sometimes when the blood sugar drops.”
“Don’t worry about it. I understand.” They pulled into her place. “Do you want me to make you something to eat?”
“No. I think I should get him home. I’ll take care of him,” Dwayne replied. “You okay?”
“Sure. I’m fine.”
“I walk her to the door,” Dwayne told Sam.
Sam nodded and said goodnight. It was nice, especially after everything that had been happening, to have Dwayne make sure she got inside the house okay. When they reached her door, Dwayne turned to her. “You started to say something about you had it figured out, or something like that, right ’fore Sam had his seizure.”
She waved a
hand at him. “It’s nothing. It’s crazy, really.”
“What?”
She didn’t know if she could trust Dwayne, but he had been in Vegas the morning Uncle Lou was killed, so he hadn’t killed him. That she was sure of; but could he be the one who’d been scamming breeders by selling off sperm that was not Loco’s? Sure, he said that he didn’t have any affiliation to the program, and he was a really nice guy, but she bit her tongue anyway. “Oh, I just figured out why Brad was hassling me back at the restaurant. You weren’t there, but my ex was giving me a bad time.”
“You need me to talk to him?”
She shook her head. “No. But thanks for the lift home. I really appreciate it.” She got inside the door, locked it, and leaned against it. What she didn’t want to tell Dwayne was her theory about who was the father to those foals— her very own Rocky.
TWENTY
MICHAELA WOKE UP THE NEXT MORNING KNOWING that before she could prove her theory about Rocky being the father to those foals, she would have to get his DNA sent over to the AQHA. As she headed out to the barn, she couldn’t help thinking that by doing this she could be implicating herself in a crime that she didn’t commit. Maybe she should speak to an attorney before going ahead with it. Maybe she should go to Ethan with this. She wished Uncle Lou were there. He’d know what to do.
She tossed in a flake of hay for each one of the horses, and when she came to Rocky’s stall, she opened it up. “Hey big guy.” He turned and looked at her. “This won’t hurt. He bobbed his head up and down and then turned back to his breakfast. It was almost as if he knew what she’d said. She loved that horses, like dogs, are social and love to communicate. They like to be around other animals and people for the most part.
She pulled out several strands of Rocky’s mane and placed them in a plastic baggie. Back at the house, she typed up a letter to the AQHA. It wasn’t an easy letter because who in the world would believe it? God, she prayed that it wasn’t true. But she made the decision to take a chance and send it in, along with Rocky’s hair samples.
What had alerted her to the possibility that Rocky could be the father to the foals in Ohio was something Dwayne— or maybe it had been Sam?— had said last night, that the horse had followed his nose. The dairy farm was close by, but not so close that Rocky would have caught a whiff of the mare in season. Yet, he’d beelined it straight to her— as if he’d been there before.
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