“Who are you...?” he said and then snapped his fingers and pointed at her. “Hey, aren’t you that worker who was by the gates earlier?”
“I was by the gates, yes,” answered Casey, “but I’m not a track employee.”
Bingo’s eyes went wide. “You’re not? I thought you were cleaning up the horse droppings.”
“Who the hell are you, then?” asked Berlington.
“My name is Casey Lane and I’m a private investigator.” She grabbed one of her business cards from her pocket and handed it over to the confused Berlington.
He looked at it and then looked back down at her.
“Says here ‘South Lane Detective Agency.’”
“Correct, and…” Casey began.
“But you just said you was a private investigator,” Bingo interrupted.
“Right...” Casey said.
“That’s not the same thing,” Berlington said with a shake of his head.
“I’m aware of that, okay?” Casey said. “I hadn’t thought of it ahead of time and I wasn’t about to go through all of the trouble of redoing business licenses, signs, cards, and stationery.”
“Why would you?” Berlington said. “You could just have your secretary handle all the particulars.”
Bingo nodded. “Exactly right.”
Berlington looked at Bingo then, once again looking confused. “And, sorry, who are you?”
“Bingo. Jack Bingo.”
“The oil tycoon?” Berlington said.
“Unless you know of another Jack Bingo in oil,” Bingo confirmed.
“Not even one out of oil,” stated Berlington. “Are you with this investigator?”
“No,” Bingo said, “but I’m hopin’ to be with her secretary later on, if ya catch my meanin’.”
“Unfortunately, I believe I do,” Berlington said, looking disgusted. He turned to Zane. “Zane? Do you know this woman?”
“She’s my partner,” he said, glancing at Casey.
“You mean like life partner?” Berlington said.
“What? No, no, no.” Zane was half-laughing, half-scoffing. “Trust me, no.”
“You don’t have to be so adamant about it,” Casey said, putting a hand on her hip.
Zane looked confused. “Huh?”
“Was that word too big for you?” Casey said.
“You sure you don’t mean life partner?” Bingo asked. “Sounds like it’s about right, and that’s comin’ from a fella who’s put a ring on many a finger over his years.”
Casey shook her head. “We’re not.”
“Then what, pray tell, is going on?” Berlington said.
This was probably Casey’s favorite part of her job. Sure, collecting a paycheck was pretty great, too, but laying out the evidence against the guilty party always gave her a rush.
“We were hired because there has been a pattern emerging on your horse’s wins and losses,” Casey explained.
“Don’t be absurd,” Berlington said. “Horses win some and lose others. It’s the nature of things. It’s nothing.”
“But do their owners smile like they’d just won the lotto when their horses lose?” Casey said.
Berlington looked confused again. “Lotto?”
Zane leaned over to Berlington. “It’s a game that the less fortunate play.”
“Ah,” Berlington said with a nod.
“Anyway,” Casey said, “again, we were hired to figure out why your horse is slouching.”
“Who hired you?” He looked around. “I didn’t hire you.”
Riggs stepped up to them in the circle. “I did.”
“What?” Berlington said, turning to his jockey and looking down.
“Again, I have to think of my future, Mr. Berlington.”
“You’ll have to think about it pretty quick, too. You’re fired!”
Riggs sighed. “I expected that.”
“And I’ll have my attorney—”
“Not so fast, snob boy,” Casey said, feeling like she was on a roll.
“Snob boy?” Berlington and Zane both mouthed, looking at each other.
Bingo laughed. “Well, this one’s got some get up and go, ain’t she?”
“Yeah, it’s fun when it’s not directed at you,” Zane said.
Casey pointed back and forth between the two of them. “If you two concentrate real hard, I’ll bet that you can master the art of silence.”
“See what I mean?” Zane whispered.
“Worse than my second wife, Hilda,” Bingo said, blinking, “and she was ornery as all get out.”
“As I was saying, Berlington—” Casey continued.
“Mr. Berlington,” he corrected.
Casey ignored him. “This case was presented to us and so we began the steps of deductive reasoning that all true detectives follow.”
“You mean private investigators,” Berlington said.
Zane leaned down to Casey this time. “We really should do something about that.”
“And, you,” Berlington said, poking Zane in the chest, “how you could stoop so low as to partner up with a woman who clearly shops at Walmart is beyond me.”
“Ain’t nothin’ wrong with shoppin’ at Walmart,” Bingo said helpfully, and then gave Casey a concerned look. “If ya got the body for it, anyway.”
“My point precisely,” Berlington said.
“Hey! What’s wrong with my body?”
“We should probably focus on the case, Casey,” Zane said.
Casey sighed. Honestly, why she bothered with Zane and his class of people was beyond her. If they hadn’t paid so well, she’d have walked away from most of the cases that turned up these days.
“Right,” Casey said. “Well, anyway, it didn’t take much work to figure out what was going on. You have an inside man shooting up the horse with what I’m assuming to be tranquilizers.”
“Preposterous!” Berlington said while glancing around at everyone.
“I have it all on film,” Casey said, holding up the phone.
“Oh, well,” Berlington said with a gulp, “that’s different, then.”
“Here’s your accomplice, by the gates,” she explained as she showed the video. “You can see him look around suspiciously, then he takes out a huge needle and wham.” She then went to the next video clip. “Next, I spun the camera back to you during the race, Mr. Berlington, and you were smiling in a way that told me you knew exactly what was happening.”
“But why would a man want to sabotage his own horse?” Bingo said.
Casey turned to Zane. “Tell him, Zane.”
“Um, because he likes giving the other horses a chance to win?”
“He does?” Bingo said.
“Really?” Amber said.
Casey shook her head in disbelief. “Oh, come on.”
“No, he’s right,” Berlington said, pointing at Zane. “That’s why I do it.”
Just then a wiry young man ran up to the group. “Mr. Berlington,” he said, out of breath, “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I wanted to let you know that I’ve handled the transfer of your winnings to your offshore bank account.”
“Thank you, Charles,” Berlington said like a man who’d been caught with his hand in the proverbial cookie jar. “That will be all.”
“Did you want me to place another bet on the—”
“That will be all, Charles.”
“Actually,” Casey said, “wait a second, Charles. Did you place any other bets for Mr. Berlington today?”
“Don’t answer that, Charles,” Berlington commanded. “You work for me, not her.”
“If you know what’s going on, Charles,” Casey said smoothly, “you may want to speak up. I’m sure you don’t want to be brought up on fraud charges just to protect your employer.”
“I assure you that he doesn’t know anything about what I’m doing,” Berlington said with scoff.
“Which implies that you are doing something, Mr. Berlington,” Zane said.
“Walked
into that trap, Berls,” Bingo said.
“I did no such thing and never call me ‘Berls’ again, you overgrown caveman.”
“Aw, now, why’d you go and start down that path?” Bingo said with a sad shake of his head. “I don’t want to have to mess a fella up in front of all these nice folks.”
“I daresay you’re threatening me with fisticuffs?” Berlington said, affronted.
“Call me one more name and it’ll get beyond threats.”
Amber looked at Bingo adoringly. “You really are manly, aren’t you, Bingo?”
“So I’m told, miss.”
“And who is this little piece of trash?” Berlington said.
“Shouldn’t have said that,” Bingo said, his hands forming into fists.
He popped Berlington right on the chin, causing him to fall to the ground.
“You struck me!” Berlington said, holding his face in his hand, his eyes wide.
Zane bent down and gave Berlington his hand, assisting him back up.
“I cannot believe that you just struck me,” Berlington said to Bingo.
“Say another bad word in my direction, or in that of my lady’s, and I’ll do it again.”
“I’ll have security called for this.”
“Already here,” a security guard said as he ran up.
“Excellent,” Berlington said. “Take this bumpkin and his peasant away. I want to press full charges against him.”
“I warned you not to keep sayin’ bad things, Berlington.”
Another guard joined the first and they stood between the two men, keeping them separated.
“I want them arrested immediately,” Berlington said.
“Sorry, sir, but we’re not here to arrest them.”
“What?”
“Ms. Lane here spoke to one of our guards right after the race and pointed out a video that she’d shot.” He snapped his fingers and another guard pushed into the crowd with a gate worker in tow. “This is Earl Jones. He’s a gate worker. He’s also the guy who has been sticking your horse with the needle every few races. At least that’s according to Ms. Lane.”
“Correct,” Casey said.
Berlington scoffed. “I’ve never seen this man before in my life.”
“Oh, no,” Earl said with a shake of his head. “That ain’t happening. I ain’t gonna get left out to dry while you get away free and clear.”
“We had a deal, man!”
“You did, did you?” Zane said.
“Uh...”
“That deal didn’t involve me going to jail while you drove around in your Rolls Royce.”
“Actually, it did,” Berlington noted, pulling a slip of paper from his jacket and pointing at the bottom of it. “It’s here in the fine print.”
“Oh.”
“Not that it matters now,” Berlington continued, returning the document to his coat, “considering how you’ve just incriminated me.”
Riggs pushed his way through again and looked up at everyone.
“I just want to understand why you did it, Mr. Berlington.”
“The money, of course,” Berlington replied as if it were a dumb question. “Take a horse who is winning at every turn and set him up for a fall. The people not only get excited about him winning, they get doubly excited about his potential to lose.”
“And so you rigged the system, knowing that you had a better than average chance to win,” Zane said, “and a guaranteed chance not to win when you really wanted to make a windfall.”
“Well done, Zane,” admitted Casey.
“It was nothing,” Zane replied with his winning smile.
“Mostly true,” she affirmed.
“I gotta say,” Bingo said while giving Casey another look, “I like me a woman who is a bit feisty.”
“Oh?”
Zane stood up straight and faced him. “Back off, Bingo.”
“Excuse me, partner?”
“Zane?” Casey said, looking at him questioningly.
He cleared his throat and shrugged his shoulders. “What? I’m just saying that if he doesn’t back off, you’re going to go all Casey on him.”
“Did you just use my name as a verb?”
“If a verb is the action one,” Zane said, “then I guess I did.”
“Idiot,” she said, before turning back to Bingo. “You were saying?”
Bingo was pushed aside by Berlington, who was angrily pointing at Zane.
“I’ll have your business for this, Wolfe.”
“It’s not my business,” Zane stated with his hands up in surrender. He then gestured toward Casey. “She owns it.”
“Oh, sure,” Casey said in disbelief, “when someone is threatening to sue the business that’s when you agree it’s mine.”
“It’s how the wealthy work,” Zane said.
“Take him away,” Casey said to the guards while motioning at Mr. Berlington.
“You haven’t heard the last of me,” yelled Berlington as he was escorted from the area.
Things like this made Casey enjoy working for the wealthy. While they always treated her as a second-class citizen, she got to humble them in the end. And, again, the pay was great.
“Well, you caught him,” Riggs said solemnly. “Not that it was all that difficult, but at least my name won’t be attached to the stigma.”
“Glad to have helped, of course,” Casey said.
“Yeah, we’ve got ya covered, little guy,” Zane said, patting him on the head.
“Don’t pat my head.”
“You sure are a wee bit sensitive,” said Zane.
“Cut it with the short jokes, Zane.”
“Yeah,” Bingo agreed. “Fella can’t help being on the small side. Born that way and makin’ the best of it.”
Riggs looked at Bingo, incredulous. “Making the best of it? What the heck is that supposed to mean?”
“Came out wrong. You know what I’m sayin’.”
“Not really,” Riggs said.
“At least he quit paying attention to me,” Zane said.
“Not that much of a challenge,” Casey said.
“You’re not a challenge,” Zane said.
“Good comeback, Zane.”
Both Bingo and Riggs had stopped their stare down and had refocused on Zane and Casey.
“You two sure you ain’t datin’?” said Bingo.
“Was just about to ask the same thing,” said Riggs.
CASE CLOSED
Casey carefully opened the door to the office, expecting more debris and workers to be in the way. What she found, however, was a quiet, empty space, completely finished. It wasn’t exactly like Zane’s side, but it was close enough.
She was impressed.
“I guess we’ll have to replace Amber,” Zane mused.
“Seems so.”
“She’s got the life now.”
“Are you saying you’re jealous of an early-twenties girl who is likely to marry a fifty-something man only to get divorced and take him for half his money in the courts?”
“Why would I be jealous of that? My point was that she was going to get to enjoy that which people like you rarely do.”
“People like me?” she said with her hand on her hip. Oh no, she wasn’t going to let rich boy win this time. He was given everything on a silver platter. She wasn’t. “I’d rather work to earn my living than to be some freeloader like that.”
“Speaking of which, how do you like your new desk that I paid for?”
Casey slumped, defeated. “It’s nice, thanks.”
“And your carpet?”
“A little thin, but better than what I had.”
“And your—”
“I get it already, I get it! But I resent the inference that I’m a freeloader. I work hard, thank you very much.”
“Oh, come on,” Zane said with a half of a laugh, “even I could have solved this case had I been standing where you were and filming... Oh, yeah, where’s my phone?”
Casey
reached into her pocket and pulled out the handkerchief-wrapped cell phone.
“Well, that’s nice of you to protect my phone with a cloth and...” He sniffed the air. “What’s that smell?”
“Hmmm?”
“Casey?” he said as his face scrunched up and he held the phone away at arm’s length. “What did you do to my cell?”
The office phone rang just in time.
“Sorry, I should probably get that,” she said, holding back a laugh while reaching out to take the call.
“Casey!”
OUT OF LEFT FIELD
PROLOGUE
The hallway was dark and deserted, but he looked around the corner anyway just to make sure he was really alone. The crowd was getting louder outside, but the noise was buffeted down here in the basement. He pulled the key out of his suit pocket and it momentarily glistened in the soft light from the single light bulb over the doorway. The old door opened with a soft click and he closed it quickly behind him as he entered the dark, noisome room.
He made his way over to the small closet on the other side of the room and opened it, finding what he was looking for inside. The man smiled to himself, and reached out and let his fingers run down the material before he slid it off the hanger and carefully tucked it into his bag.
It was time to go.
As he closed the closet, he felt it snag on his sleeve and heard a ping as something hard hit the concrete floor. Whatever it was, he didn’t have time to go looking for it.
He headed back out into the hallway and shut the door.
For a moment he looked down at the key, not sure what to do with it. A sad expression crossed his face when he realized he’d have no need for it any longer. He leaned over and shoved it back under the door.
That should buy me some time, he thought as he headed down the long hallway and then out the back.
UNEXPECTED
“Good morning, Zane,” Casey said with a smile as she walked into the office.
Zane gave her a look, as if he was waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“Yeah?” he said cautiously.
Casey shrugged her shoulders and said, “So far, anyway.”
“Not used to seeing you in a good mood.”
“Not used to being in one.”
“So what’s got ya happy?”
Cozy Mystery Bundle #1 (South Lane Detective Agency) Page 13