Squaring her shoulders, she walked back into the feed room and took a last desperate inventory. Grain and supplements should last another week, and with only two horses to feed, there’d probably be enough hay. But since Tizzy and Stinger had just raced, they wouldn’t be able to run for another month. Their food would be gone long before that.
And with no more horses to race, their chance of earning an income was dashed. Worse, since Jackson was the trainer on record, the purse money from the weekend would go to him. Victoria would never let him buy feed or make any more dispersals, even if Jackson intended to follow his agreement with Eve and pay out bonuses.
“When is Juanita coming back?” Joey asked, hopping on one foot in the doorway, and giggling when he lost his balance.
“Three o’clock.” Eve gave her cheeks a quick swipe. “Then we’ll drive to the bank and maybe stop for ice cream.”
“Thought we were going to McDonalds?”
She jammed the scoop back into the grain bag. She had mentioned getting a hamburger. Thought it would be nice to buy Juanita supper and show appreciation for the excellent kid care today. But having the horses pulled changed everything.
Now she needed every cent to help her staff. For a few days, they could all sleep in the RV, but track management would soon insist that the trailer be moved. Soon they wouldn’t have a horse left in the barn. They’d be squatters.
“Wouldn’t it be more fun to eat here?” she asked, trying to inject the proper degree of enthusiasm. “With Juanita? We have leftover hotdogs and ice cream. And you can play outside. That way, we can invite Ashley and Miguel too.”
Joey thought for a moment, then gave a swift nod. “Okay,” he said. “But don’t invite that mean man.”
She winced. “Rick’s not mean. But he won’t be eating with us again.” He’d have to come and collect Camila’s box. However, it was clear he’d do that when Joey was either asleep or absent.
“That’s good,” Joey said. “And don’t make peanut butter sandwiches for lunch. Juanita knows a boy who’s allergic and he might get sick if it’s on my mouth.”
“Glad you’re on the ball, buddy,” she said, rumpling his hair. “Okay, we’ll find something else for lunch. Race you home.”
Joey turned and charged down the aisle, intent on winning. She followed, shooting an apologetic look at the two startled horses. It seemed another lifetime when running down the aisle was her biggest problem.
Joey sprinted toward the RV, his arms and legs pumping. She kept pace, careful to stay a few feet back, her steps muffled on the grass.
He reached the RV first. He whipped open the door, glanced over his shoulder and giggled with triumph.
“I won!” he said.
She followed him inside. “You did win. You’re a fast runner.”
She jerked to a stop, her smile fading. Liam sat in the middle of the kitchen floor, the contents of Camila’s box dumped by his feet.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
Her gaze shot to the wad of bills stacked beside the cracker box. She doubted the security guard would be as compassionate as Rick. He’d probably insist she was withholding evidence and demand the money be turned over to the police. And Camila’s sister needed every dollar.
“That’s Camila’s money,” she said firmly. “We made it betting on the horses, along with the caps tournament.” They’d made a couple hundred dollars betting, certainly not five thousand. But she didn’t flinch at the lie.
“Where’s your vehicle?” she added, glancing out the window at the empty road. Her voice sharpened. “What are you doing here? I don’t recall inviting you in.”
“Walked.” He gave a dismissive shrug. “Sorry to barge in like this but I had an urgent request from the next of kin. Six calls in fact, all requesting we send Camila’s diary.”
“Everything she owns was in that box.” Eve crossed her arms, still eyeing the money. It didn’t sound as if he intended to confiscate it. But now her fear was replaced with annoyance. Even Rick never entered the RV without knocking. Not only had Liam walked in, he hadn’t even removed his dirty boots. Now red clay littered the floor, marking his path like an arrow sign.
“Ashley told me you were going to see the pig,” Liam said, his head still bent over the strewn contents. “And I know Rick is off trying to find Marcus.”
He kept pawing through Camila’s clothes, checking her jean pockets, even rifling through her undergarments. It looked all wrong. Rick had been far more orderly, more respectful. Liam seemed almost frantic.
“I’m not sure what you’re looking for,” she said. “There’s no diary. Just that little notebook.”
Liam picked up the notebook, skimmed through it, then tossed it aside. “That just has horse details. Ashley mentioned a diary. I thought… They thought it might have some personal entries, so they want me to find it.”
“I’ll help.” Joey dropped to his knees and enthusiastically reached for the box.
Liam knocked his hand away. “Don’t touch anything, kid. This is an official job.”
Eve’s jaw clenched. She dropped her arms and shot forward. “And I think it’s time for you to leave. Now.”
“Not yet,” Liam said. He looked up at her, and something flickered in his eyes. Something ugly.
“Go to your room, Joey,” she said, her voice clipped. “I’ll see Liam out.”
Joey rose, his face stricken. He shuffled down the hall and disappeared into the second bedroom.
She glowered at Liam. “Don’t ever touch my son again.”
“Sorry,” he said, without sounding sorry at all. He picked up a tattered English-Spanish dictionary, flipped through the pages then tossed it aside. “But Camila’s family is calling me all the time. Wanting some dumb diary. It’s driving my security guards crazy.”
He adjusted his gunbelt and emphasized the word ‘security’ as if reminding that he was the boss. As if that meant he was entitled to do whatever he wanted. She really didn’t care how many phone calls the security office fielded. Camila had died in a tragic, unsolved murder. The family was bound to have questions, endless one. She remembered when Joey’s father died, how many people it had affected… Yet Juanita said Camila only had one sister.
“Camila’s mother?” she asked, keeping her voice casual. “Is that who’s calling ?”
“Yeah,” Liam said. “So that’s why I had to hurry over.”
“No problem.” She turned toward the counter. “Take your time. I’ll make us some coffee.”
She reached for the coffee maker with her left hand. And with her right pulled out her phone. She kept it hidden in front of her, her fingers flying over the screen.
She smelled Liam’s sour breath seconds before his hand squeezed her fingers, so forcefully she yelped. She wheeled. But he kept squeezing her hand, seeming to enjoy her pain.
For a moment, she was too shocked to move. Then she jerked her knee sharply toward his groin. But he was ready. He shoved her against the counter, until the edge bit into her back and she was pressed helplessly between his legs.
“Bitch,” he growled, prying the phone from her fingers and slamming it against the counter. The case cracked. A colored circuit board and battery popped out like entrails. A vein throbbed in his neck, his face turned a mottled red and his explosive rage shocked her to silence.
“Bitch,” he repeated. “Princess bitch. You ruined everything.” Then he shook her, so hard it rattled her teeth.
“Liam,” she managed, her breath ragged. “I was just texting Ashley. She’s coming over…to babysit...to—”
“Shut up.” He gave her another shake. “You screwed me over. Those were my babies. My money. You baby fuck-up bitch!”
Spittle formed around his mouth and something wet sprayed her cheek. He was incensed with rage, seemingly unable to speak except to call her a bitch. If she wasn’t so terrified, she’d have poked fun at his limited vocabulary.
“Everything’s okay, Liam,” she said, des
perate to keep her voice from squeaking. To act calm.
The drawer with the knives was only inches from her right hand. Once he loosened his grip, she’d grab a knife and chase this asshole from her RV. And then she’d make sure he lost his job and never was in a position of trust again and—
But his hand wrapped around her throat, and she couldn’t think anymore about what she wanted to do. Could only gasp and twist and struggle to breathe.
“This is your fault.” Tendons corded in his neck, and his lips pulled back, revealing bared teeth. “I didn’t want it to come to this. I really didn’t. I tried to make you leave.”
She closed her eyes, didn’t want to see his horrifying rage. His punishing grip relaxed slightly, and she grabbed a wheezy breath. And a few more. Enough that she could fight again.
She bent and sank her teeth into the fleshy part of his hand.
“Dammit,” he roared. He released her neck but then grabbed her with his other hand and pounded her head against the counter. Once, twice, and then her eyes hurt and her head was spinning too much to keep count.
“Don’t you hurt my mother!” Joey’s voice sounded far, far away. But she could see him through a red haze. He was right there in the kitchen. His arms and legs were wrapped around Liam’s leg, his face twisted with panic.
“No,” she said. “Joey, run.”
Liam tossed her to the floor, then pulled Joey off his ankle, holding him in the air with one arm. Joey’s legs flailed helplessly.
“You want to tell the women how easy it is to have kids at the track,” Liam said. “Well, go ahead. But be sure to tell them about this.”
She saw his boot coming and curled into a ball seconds before his kick landed on her ribs. Pain knifed through her chest. Then he stomped on her left leg, and for a moment the agony was so intense she saw nothing but pinpoints of black.
“This is all your fault.” His voice sounded above her. “Camila wouldn’t have wanted her baby back if you hadn’t filled her head with stupid ideas. And I had Ashley lined up. A blond woman!”
She lay unmoving, gasping, simply struggling to breathe. It felt like she’d fallen off a horse and then been trampled by the entire field. But she’d been hurt worse. And the knife drawer was close. She could get to it, with just a little recovery time.
Talking seemed to incense him, so she stayed silent, curled on the floor. She looked up at Joey’s blurred face, trying to reassure him. And to warn him not to speak.
His little feet dangled in the air, his body pitifully small. And she couldn’t not speak. Had to get him out of harm’s way.
“Joey should go back to the pig’s barn now,” she managed. “Then I’ll be able to tell the women they shouldn’t keep their babies. And Ashley,” she sucked in a breath that ripped the insides of her chest, “you can have her baby. That’ll be a nice one. The father is blond too and blue-eyed.”
She was lying like a lawyer. Had no idea who the father was, and she suspected Ashley didn’t either. But when she was finally able to struggle to her feet, she was going for a knife. And she didn’t want Joey anywhere in the vicinity.
Liam sneered. “Yeah, she listens to everything you say. All the women do. Making sandpits, spreading dumb ideas. Well, this is my track.”
He prodded her ribs with his boot. “You’re not so high and mighty now. Ashley thought five grand looked pretty good. I could have flipped her baby for thirty. Already have the deposit. Dammit. You should have left.”
“It was you? Not Victoria?” She stared up, struggling to make her brain work.
“You women are all so stupid,” he said, his face not quite so flushed.
“You stole my battery? The tack? Gave Miguel the liquor?”
He gave a superior smile, his arm relaxing. Now Joey’s toes almost touched the floor. “Ashley made it easy. She babbled about everything. Even told me where the horse liked to roll. That stupid animal ripped open half his back. But you still wouldn’t leave.”
She stared in dawning horror. It was Liam? She gulped. “I’ll leave now though,” she squeaked.
“Too late.”
“No, it’s not,” she said quickly. “No one can prove anything. You haven’t hurt anyone.”
He looked down at her, his eyes cold, the silence in the kitchen like a tomb. And she could see it in his expression even while the sound of her own heartbeat thrashed in her ears. “No,” she whispered. “Not Camila.”
“She wanted to buy back her baby. Too stupid to understand there’s no going back. Even had the nerve to threaten me. Me!” His voice rose with scorn and Joey’s feet lifted further from the floor.
Eve’s cheek was flattened against a red footprint on the floor, the same color as the river bank. Yet Rick said they weren’t allowed close to the crime scene. Her mind skittered away. She didn’t want to accept that a killer was in her kitchen. With her son.
“You’re right,” she said, hating the quaver in her voice. “There is a real diary. But Rick already has it. So you should just run. He’s coming back after he talks to Marcus. He knows it was you.”
Liam snorted. “I knew Marcus would sing, that’s why I needed him gone. Paid him a thousand bucks for each girl he lined up. But he didn’t have the guts to see things through.”
Eve tried to control her terror. She moved her legs a cautious inch. Her left leg didn’t work, but her right leg twitched in response. That was the one she’d use to push for the drawer. Her head still reeled but Liam was a lightweight compared to a horse. And Rick would come once he saw her text. He’d promised he would if she ever needed help. He couldn’t be too far away.
“Where’s Marcus now?” she asked.
“Hiding somewhere in town. I can’t find him.”
“Oh.” Her despair rose. “I thought he might be here at the track.”
“No,” Liam said. “So your hotshot investigator is far away. And you’ll make sure he doesn’t follow me.”
“Yes.” She nodded, so quickly pain shafted through the back of her head, and black spots dotted Liam’s face. But her pain was tempered with relief.
“Because I’m taking your kid.”
She stared up, frozen in horror. “No. Take me instead.”
“The kid’s easier. And you can’t even walk. Besides, he’d come for you.”
“He’ll come for Joey too.” But she shook her head, trying to clear her vision, as well as push back her doubt.
“Then you’ll have to make sure he doesn’t,” Liam said. “I’ll let your kid go in a couple days. Long as he’s quiet and you don’t go to the police. Or send that nosy prick after me.”
“No, take me, please,” she begged. “Joey can’t walk far. He needs medication. He’s only four—”
But Liam had already turned toward the door with Joey tucked under his arm like a sack of feed.
She pushed herself up, collapsed then grabbed the side of the sink. She hung on, frantically yanked open the drawer and pulled out a knife, the biggest one she saw.
“Wait!” She burst through the open door, the knife pressed against her leg. Tripped and bounced down the steps onto the grass. Didn’t feel a bit of pain.
“Liam,” she called brokenly. “Take me instead. Please.”
She pushed herself up, hobbled a step then fell again. Liam and Joey were already beside the sand pit, close to the wooded path. Joey’s beseeching eyes clung to hers. Despite his terror he didn’t speak, was still trying to be quiet, as if confident she’d save him.
And then he was swallowed by the trees.
Moaning, she pushed herself up and stumbled forward. There was a rake by the barn door that could serve as a crutch. Liam must be taking the path up the hill, squeezing through the gap in the fence. She’d follow.
She turned toward the barn, crumpled, then pulled herself along the grass. Crawling was faster than her ineffective hobble, and fear galvanized her, so much that she didn’t feel a shred of pain, other than the sheer terror that gripped her heart.
&
nbsp; CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
Rick parked his motorcycle by the guardhouse and cut the engine. The man inside smiled and slid open the window. “Coming in for a coffee?”
Rick shook his head. “Just looking for Liam.”
He flattened his hands against his thighs, trying to keep them from fisting. He’d questioned Victoria’s involvement, ever since the frustrated note on Eve’s car. Victoria was cold and calculating, and that note had reeked of emotion.
But he’d completely overlooked Liam. Partly because of the guard’s friendship with Ashley. But mainly because his brain always shut down whenever people spoke of kids and babies. If he weren’t half a man, if he’d only stayed around the mothers and listened, he’d have figured this out much sooner.
As it was, Marcus’s confession had barely surprised him. Liam and Marcus had a profitable gig, running a despicable baby market for almost three years. Marcus befriended pregnant immigrants, stoking their fear about losing their jobs in the States, while Liam fronted the sales.
If a woman hedged about turning over their baby, Liam ruthlessly severed all support. In Camila’s case, he’d planted heroin in her boyfriend’s dorm, forcing the man to flee to Mexico. Since many workers were illegals, Liam had wielded frightening power.
They’d paid five thousand to the girls, a huge sum for a track worker, and pocketed up to fifteen. When Ashley arrived, fair-haired and pregnant, Liam had hoped to clear twenty-five.
But Eve’s support had united the women. Meeting friends at the sand pit, having a chance to talk and learn about support programs had boosted their confidence. They’d even started their own hair business. All had hoped to emulate Eve, a confident single mother who’d carved out a career in the competitive race industry and was all too happy to help other women do the same.
Liam had been infuriated and determined to run Eve off. It had been simple to cause problems. Especially since Ashley served as an information funnel. The self-absorbed girl had no idea Liam was using her information for sabotage. And ultimately murder.
Rick’s fists tightened, his fingers pressing into his palms. He was determined to talk to Liam before the police were involved. Quite likely the man would turn belligerent and take a swing. Marcus said Liam was unraveling.
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