“It’s electrical,” Spears said.
“All right,” Dawn said. “Do you have rubber scissors?”
“Let me call maintenance,” Spears suggested. “Maybe it’s a thermostat of some sort.”
Dawn looked at Wendy and shook her head. “I’m getting that same weird feeling.”
Wendy nodded.
“I’ll get maintenance and let you know,” Spears said.
“That’s all right, I’ll wait,” Dawn said. She tried moving the book shelf. It was bolted to the wall. Spears walked on to his office to place the call and Dawn pulled up a chair next to Wendy. “Here’s the video. It’s thirty-six seconds and I think it’s really good. I didn’t know this beforehand, but Dusty used to train Some Sam. He lost him when his owner died and the man’s kids sold all the horses. I think his familiarity with the horse is obvious.”
Wendy played the video, both studying the tiny screen. “Very nice,” Wendy said. “It’s touching, tugs at your heart, but doesn’t want to make you cry. And the horse is so pretty.”
“Then it’s a wrap?” Dawn asked.
“I’ll get it going,” Wendy said.
Spears came out of his office. “Someone will be right up.”
Dawn nodded and decided to look around. “Hmmm,” she said, at the closed door with Rudolph Swingline’s nameplate still on it. “Something else for maintenance to do.” She turned the handle; the door was locked. “Do you have the key?”
Wendy shook her head. Both turned to Spears. “I’m assuming Ben has it,” he said.
“Ben?” Dawn took out her cell phone and was pleasantly surprised when Ben answered it on the fifth ring.
“Hello.”
He sounded so gruff, and at the same time, a voice brimming with dread. “Ben, it’s Dawn. If you had looked at caller ID, you’d know that.”
“I hate this phone,” he said.
Dawn chuckled. “Do you have a key to Swingline’s old office?”
“Me? Why would I have it?”
“Oh, just checking. Never mind.”
Ben gladly hung up the phone.
“He doesn’t have it,” Dawn said.
“I’ll be right back,” Wendy said, video clip in hand.
Dawn sat down to wait. Two maintenance men showed up a few minutes later. “First thing,” she said. “I need to know what this little red light is.”
One of the men looked at it; the other man just looked at her. “Are you a trainer?”
“Assistant,” she said. “Wait, don’t,” she told the man as he was about to tug on the wire. “Do you have a master key to the offices?”
“All but that one there,” the man said, pointing to Swingline’s door.
Spears joined them. “You mean you have a key to mine?”
The man nodded, showing him.
“Hmph.”
“How much trouble would it be to remove the door?” Dawn asked.
“Considering it’s locked,” the one man said, “quite a bit.” The other man agreed.
“Well then,” Dawn said. “Excuse me a minute.” She walked away to make a phone call and glanced back. “Don’t touch that.”
“Do you want us to come back?” the one man asked Spears.
“No,” Dawn said, answering for him. “Stay put. Uncle Matt.” She relayed the situation. “Twenty minutes? Okay.”
The two men looked at Spears. He nodded, motioning to Dawn. “She’s the uh….”
“The owner’s daughter,” Dawn said.
The two men sat down to wait. When the elevator doors opened shortly thereafter, a very distinguished-looking man stepped off. “Dawnetta,” he said, in greeting.
“Antonio.” Dawn first showed him the wire, which he assessed with a furtive glance, then the door. He took out a Corinthian leather pouch, removed a precision tool and opened the lock. He followed an imaginary path with his eyes, up the wall, across the ceiling, into the office and behind a mahogany étagère.
“Apparently it’s just a sound system,” he said, but there was something about the way he looked at Dawn when he said that, that made her think otherwise.
“Thank you.” She dismissed the two maintenance men, waited, and when they’d gone, her suspicions were confirmed
“I’ll get someone up here right away to take care of this,” Antonio said.
“It’s surveillance?”
Antonio nodded ever so slightly.
“Is there any way of knowing how long it’s been there?” Dawn asked.
Antonio glanced at Spears standing at her side, but looked at Dawn in answering. “We’ll know.”
Another nod, a bow of sorts, and Antonio was gone. Wendy returned a few minutes later and was brought up to date. Dawn did most of the talking, as Spears was practically speechless, his complexion pale.
Dawn looked at him. “Are you all right?”
“No. This is distressing.”
They all stared at the little red light. “I can’t believe I wouldn’t have seen it before?” Wendy said.
“Well, we’ll find out. We’ll just have to wait.”
“You can go ahead and go,” Spears said.
“No, that’s all right,” Dawn said.
She walked over to the little red light and leaned in close. “Hello.”
Wendy laughed, a nervous laugh, but a laugh nonetheless. “I doubt this is supposed to be funny, but….”
“And this is my best side,” Dawn said, turning to the right.
“You have no bad side,” Wendy said. She thought Dawn was absolutely beautiful. She was tall and thin, long auburn hair, no make-up. She’d never seen her in anything other than barn clothes, but imagined she had a wardrobe to die for.
When the elevator doors opened, Dawn turned and smiled. It was Tom.
“What are you doing?” he asked Dawn. She looked as if she was talking to the bookcase. “It’s a bug,” she whispered. “Maybe a camera.”
Tom stared. “Oh!” he whispered back. He looked at Wendy. “Shall we moon them?”
Wendy laughed. Even Spears chuckled.
“Uncle Matt’s sending someone over.”
When the elevator doors opened again a short while later, three men disembarked, each carrying a black satchel. Dawn pointed to the little red light and stepped back out of the way.
“We’re going to go ahead and sweep the floor,” one of the men said, implying they should all leave.
Tom raised an eyebrow and looked at Spears. “Uh, I was going to ask Wendy if she wanted to go to lunch. Maybe the three of us can go get something. The clubhouse is open.”
“Good idea,” Dawn said. “I’ll see you later.” She took the stairs. Tom, Wendy and Spears took the elevator. Spears said he needed to get something from his office, but changed his mind when all three of Uncle Matt’s men looked pointedly at him.
“Never mind, it can wait.”
There were only a few patrons in the clubhouse, since it was so early. Tom motioned to a window table overlooking the finish line. Spears sat across from Wendy. Tom pulled a chair around and sat on the end so he could look straight out at the racetrack.
It was a pretty day. The sun was shining, the sky a light blue with puffy white clouds. No chance of rain. Tom had ponied six horses this morning and smelled a little like a horse. The waitress didn’t seem to mind.
“What’ll it be?”
Tom smiled that trademark Marlboro Man smile of his. “I’ll have a tall glass of water, no ice.”
Wendy ordered water as well. Spears ordered a rum and coke.
“Well, isn’t that interesting,” Tom said. “That was my drink of choice for years. Then one day, I gave up Coke.”
Spears looked at him. “You drink Rum straight?”
“I did,” Tom said, leaning back so the waitress could place their drinks down. “Well, that was fast.”
“Thursdays are slow,” she said.
Tom wondered why? Something else to think about it. Big John Myers came in the door to the clu
bhouse with one of his owners and the owner’s wife. Tom waved to him.
“Do you know all the trainers on the racetrack?” Spears asked.
“Just about,” Tom said. “And the grooms, exercise riders, jocks.” Speaking of jocks, Richard Jackson entered the clubhouse and walked over and sat down at the Myers’ table. He had two more days of his suspension and he’d be riding again. Myers had two horses in today and both had a good chance of winning.
When Tom pointed an accusing finger at the young man, he smiled back. Both their actions said volumes. Think twice next time. Next to come through the doorway was Janie Pritchard. Tom loved this old woman, and given that Janie didn’t have much use for most people, the fact that she cared for him as well, also said volumes.
She limped her way over and kissed him on the cheek. “Janie,” he said. “This is Richard and this is Wendy.”
Janie nodded and turned her attention back to Tom. “Do you think you could give me a hand in the morning? That Foregone colt of mine won’t stand worth a shit for the blacksmith.”
“What time?”
“Oh, around ten-thirty.”
“I’ll be there.”
Spears took a sip of his drink, watching the old woman as she limped away. “Should she still be training?” he asked, when she was out of hearing distance.
“As opposed to…?”
Spears took another sip of his drink.
Tom looked at Wendy. “So, how was your movie?”
Spears sat staring out at the racetrack, thinking, Richard Spears is my name, not “Richard.” What kind of cowboy-hick introduction was that?
“We didn’t go,” Wendy said. “We were too late.”
Spears glanced from one to the other, puzzled by their familiarity with one another.
“How is it you don’t know anyone here?” Tom asked the man. “Don’t you eat lunch here?”
“Not usually. I have food sent up to my office.”
“Well, I think it’d be a good idea for you to hang out here a little more often, get to know people.”
The tractor operator harrowing the racetrack rode by casually looking up at the grandstand, spotted Tom sitting there and gestured to him. Tom pretended to duck, so as not be seen, and both he and the man laughed.
Spears looked at him.
“He’s a heathen,” Tom said. “But I’m working on him.”
“Exactly what religion are you?” Spears asked, having heard of Tom’s proselytizing.
“Christian,” Tom said, adding for Wendy’s benefit, “An ecumenical Christian.”
Wendy smiled.
“The road is long, with many a winding turn,” Tom sang, and then a litany of, “What’s up ahead, may only be around the bend. I’ve been everywhere, man, I’ve been everywhere.”
“Quit,” Wendy said, laughing.
“He ain’t heavy, he’s my brother,” Tom sang, he and Wendy laughing together now, as well as everyone at the Myers’ table. “Do wah diddy-diddy, dum diddy do.”
Spears excused himself at that point, went to the men’s room, and dialed Ben’s cell phone number. Ben answered, thinking it was Dawn again, and sounded rather pleasant.
“Ben, this is Richard Spears.”
“Oh boy,” Ben said.
Spears smiled. He was learning, you didn’t have to wonder what Ben was thinking or the mood he was in. It was always obvious. “Did Dawn fill you in on what’s going on?”
“Yes,” Ben said; a man of few words.
“So, I was wondering about Tom.”
“What about him?”
“I’d like to know how he figures into all of this.”
“What do you mean? Hold on,” Ben said. He covered the phone to reply to something Joe Feigler just asked him, and disconnected Spears.
Spears called right back.
“Sorry,” Ben said. “If I never had to use this damned phone again it would be too soon.”
Spears chuckled.
“So what is this about Tom?”
“Well, I’m just wondering. I know he works for you. I’m just not sure what his capacity is.”
Ben hesitated. “His capacity? Let me think. Well, he’s my best friend.”
“Yes. He’s a groom and he does your ponying, and…?”
“And, that’s it. What else do you want?”
“Nothing, I was just wondering. I just don’t know how to take him.”
“Well, you can take him at his word,” Ben said, still not understanding where this was headed or why.
“All right. Thank you.”
“But don’t forget,” Ben said, as Spears was about to hang up. “When I die, he’ll own half the racetrack and be your boss. You might want to keep that in mind.” Click.
Chapter Eighteen
Dawn whiled away the afternoon with her cousin Linda and new baby Alice Marie as if she hadn’t a care whatsoever. She never once mentioned the racetrack, never once referred to any other world other than motherhood and family. Never once did she even hint that there might be chaos going on in her life.
Linda and Dawn were both looking forward to their Aunt Maeve’s visit next week. It had been at least four months since they’d last seen her. They forever boasted that she was their favorite aunt, but in actuality she was their only aunt. Aunt Maeve often reminded them of this fact and they would always say that it didn’t matter. “If we had a hundred aunts, you’d still be our favorite.”
Meanwhile, across town, Ben had staked out some of the racing monitors throughout Nottingham Downs grandstand and was pleased that the people watched when the Some Sam video played. Many even made comments on it.
“I bet on him yesterday,” one man said to several others standing with him. “I lost my ten dollars, but I’m happy to see he’s okay.”
“I always wondered what happened to them when they don’t race anymore.”
Good enough, Ben thought, and walked on. The idea is to get the fans to care about the horses and the horsemen. This was a good start. Wendy caught up with him as he was headed for the exit closest to the barn area.
“They liked it,” she said, breathless.
Ben nodded. “Good. Maybe if people see what goes on in a racehorse’s life, they’ll care more.”
Wendy agreed. “Mr. Miller, can I ask you a question?”
“Sure. What is it?”
“Well.” She hesitated.
Ben shifted his weight and sighed. “I’m not a mind reader.”
“I know. It’s just that…never mind.”
“Never mind what?”
Wendy hesitated again. “It’s about Tom.”
Ben figured as much. “What about him?”
“Well, see, that’s just it. I don’t even know what I want to ask. I just….”
Ben motioned to a bench and walked over and sat down. Wendy sat down next to him. For a moment the two of them just sat there.
“Dawn’s nice,” Wendy said, breaking the silence.
Ben nodded.
“And Randy seems very nice.”
Ben nodded again.
“Glenda and George seem very nice too. You have a beautiful farm.”
Ben smiled, wanting to move this along. “And then there’s Tom. Is that what you’re saying?”
Wendy laughed nervously. “No, he’s nice too. That’s not what I mean.”
Ben’s cell phone rang. He stared at it. “Who is it?” he asked, handing it to Wendy.
She opened the lid and looked. “It’s Tom.”
“Oh God, now he’s calling me too.” Wendy smiled when he took the phone. “Hello.”
“I’m up at Rupert’s Tack Shop. I need you to tell him that if he doesn’t drop his prices, he can pack up and leave.”
“What’s his problem?”
“Well, I told him that we won’t be charging him rent anymore for the store space and he says he’s suspicious.”
“Of what?”
“Getting kicked out, someone else coming in. He thinks we’re going t
o set up shop ourselves.”
“What? In our spare time?” Ben said.
“Here, do you want to talk to him?”
“No, I’ll be right there.” Ben hung up and sighed. First things first. He handed the phone to Wendy, absent-mindedly, then chuckled and took it back. The damned phone was his. He looked at it as if it was a bomb. “I hate this thing. It’s unnatural. Look at it. It’s no bigger than a.…” It rang again.
He showed it to Wendy. “Who is this?”
“It’s an 800 number. Don’t answer it.” She pressed the off button and then turned it back on. “If you give me your account info I’ll try and get those blocked for you.”
“Thank you. That would be good.” He looked at her. If she had questions to ask about Tom she’d better get around to asking them. When he stood up to leave, she hesitated still. “Come on,” he said, implying she walk with him and think along the way.
“Do you know if they found any more surveillance cameras?” Wendy asked.
“Nope.”
“Do you think Tom would know?”
“I doubt it.”
“Dawn?”
“Probably not.”
“Has Tom ever been married?”
Ben looked at her and shook his head.
“Engaged?”
“Not that I know of?”
“In love?”
“I think that’s something you’re going to have to ask him.”
Tom was just up ahead standing outside Rupert’s Tack Shop. He marveled at Wendy walking along with Ben doing the best she could in high heels on a gravel parking lot. First things first: “Rupert says he can’t lower prices until he makes up for the money he’s already paid the racetrack for this month.” Second, “If you come inside, pretty lady, I’d like to introduce you to a pair of boots.”
Wendy smiled. “I have boots.”
“With a walking heel?”
“Well, no….”
Ben went inside. Wendy and Tom followed.
“The problem is, Ben, I mark everything up a certain percentage in order to cover my rent.”
“But we’re waving your rent, so what’s the problem?”
“I just paid it.”
“When?”
“Um, just like a week ago.”
“All right, so….” Ben looked at Tom and then at Wendy.
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