said. “That woman does have a temper. She wouldn’t let me in, said to talk to her lawyer, and slammed the door in my face.”
“Sounds like Kate,” said Christian.
“I did a background check. She’s never been arrested, but seven years ago, the upstate New York police questioned her about her parents’ deaths because of the large inheritance and substantial life insurance policy.”
“Yeah, her parents died in a car crash when Kate was seventeen. That’s how she got her money.”
Samuels frowned. “There was no car accident. Miss Winslow’s folks died in a house fire while sleeping.”
Christian’s jaw dropped. “You’re kidding me? Why would she lie to me, unless—” He rubbed his forehead.
“She’s hiding something,” Samuels said, finishing Christian’s sentence. “The New York fire was ruled accidental, a gas leak, and the case was closed. But, son, if she’s guilty of starting these fires, she’s not just an arsonist, but a murderer. You’d better watch your back.”
“Christ,” Christian said and chewed his thumbnail.
“Unfortunately, the New York case is out of my jurisdiction. And without proof that she burned your boat, my hands are tied.”
Christian settled in at his mother’s spacious Siesta Key home on Little Sarasota Bay. Although enjoying the luxuries of a soft bed and warm shower with meals waiting for him, he couldn’t wait to find his own private space.
He had left home at eighteen, living on his own for seven years. His mother and Frank seemed delighted to have him under their roof again. After work, he dived into their pool and swam a few laps while Frank fixed him a cocktail. They’d kick back and talk, man to man on the patio until his mother called them in for dinner.
Another week flew by without hearing from Kate. Perhaps she had gotten her revenge and would leave him alone. On Wednesdayevening, Price called him and said Glade Hunter was entered in the fourth race at Calder on Friday. Christian decided to drive to Miami Thursday night. He next called his father with the good news.
“What kind of race, dirt or grass?” Hank asked. “And what’s the distance and purse?” His voice was weak and raspy, like fall leaves rustling in a strong breeze.
“I’m sorry, Dad. I forgot to ask, but Price knows you want Hunter in a maiden special weight.”
“That’s good; that’s good. Price is a top trainer. I’m sure he put the colt in the right race.” His joy was ardent despite the pain.
“Will you get Juan to drive you over to the OBS track so you can watch it on their big screen?”
“Don’t think so, but order the disc of the race. I’ll see it later on my TV. Son, this is it, the first part of my dream come true.”
“After the race, I’ll drive straight to Ocala and bring champagne.”
Christian hung up the phone and felt weariness settle into his spine. To miss watching this race in real time, his father had to be much worse. Christian mentally kicked himself for not having visited the farm the previous week. Ending his relationship with Kate, losing his boat, and keeping his business afloat were all fixable problems, but death was final, and a father irreplaceable. Christian leaned over the kitchen counter and covered his mouth.
His mother walked in and massaged his shoulder. “He’s bad?”
Christian swallowed hard and nodded.
She patted his back. “I’ll leave for the farm in the morning. We’ve had our differences, but Hank doesn’t deserve be alone now.”
Early Friday morning, Christian was once again at Price’s barn. He felt a hundred years old until Hunter stuck his head out of the stall and greeted him. Christian stroked the colt’s neck. “Are you ready, boy? Ready to win today?”
“Hey, you ain’t supposed to touch the horses,” barked a strapping woman marching down the shed row.
“This is my horse.”
“Oh, well, you sure don’t look like an owner. Most of them are older.” The woman snapped a lead on
“Sounds like Kate,” said Christian.
“I did a background check. She’s never been arrested, but seven years ago, the upstate New York police questioned her about her parents’ deaths because of the large inheritance and substantial life insurance policy.”
“Yeah, her parents died in a car crash when Kate was seventeen. That’s how she got her money.”
Samuels frowned. “There was no car accident. Miss Winslow’s folks died in a house fire while sleeping.”
Christian’s jaw dropped. “You’re kidding me? Why would she lie to me, unless—” He rubbed his forehead.
“She’s hiding something,” Samuels said, finishing Christian’s sentence. “The New York fire was ruled accidental, a gas leak, and the case was closed. But, son, if she’s guilty of starting these fires, she’s not just an arsonist, but a murderer. You’d better watch your back.”
“Christ,” Christian said and chewed his thumbnail.
“Unfortunately, the New York case is out of my jurisdiction. And without proof that she burned your boat, my hands are tied.”
Christian settled in at his mother’s spacious Siesta Key home on Little Sarasota Bay. Although enjoying the luxuries of a soft bed and warm shower with meals waiting for him, he couldn’t wait to find his own private space.
He had left home at eighteen, living on his own for seven years. His mother and Frank seemed delighted to have him under their roof again. After work, he dived into their pool and swam a few laps while Frank fixed him a cocktail. They’d kick back and talk, man to man on the patio until his mother called them in for dinner.
Another week flew by without hearing from Kate. Perhaps she had gotten her revenge and would leave him alone. On Wednesdayevening, Price called him and said Glade Hunter was entered in the fourth race at Calder on Friday. Christian decided to drive to Miami Thursday night. He next called his father with the good news.
“What kind of race, dirt or grass?” Hank asked. “And what’s the distance and purse?” His voice was weak and raspy, like fall leaves rustling in a strong breeze.
“I’m sorry, Dad. I forgot to ask, but Price knows you want Hunter in a maiden special weight.”
“That’s good; that’s good. Price is a top trainer. I’m sure he put the colt in the right race.” His joy was ardent despite the pain.
“Will you get Juan to drive you over to the OBS track so you can watch it on their big screen?”
“Don’t think so, but order the disc of the race. I’ll see it later on my TV. Son, this is it, the first part of my dream come true.”
“After the race, I’ll drive straight to Ocala and bring champagne.”
Christian hung up the phone and felt weariness settle into his spine. To miss watching this race in real time, his father had to be much worse. Christian mentally kicked himself for not having visited the farm the previous week. Ending his relationship with Kate, losing his boat, and keeping his business afloat were all fixable problems, but death was final, and a father irreplaceable. Christian leaned over the kitchen counter and covered his mouth.
His mother walked in and massaged his shoulder. “He’s bad?”
Christian swallowed hard and nodded.
She patted his back. “I’ll leave for the farm in the morning. We’ve had our differences, but Hank doesn’t deserve be alone now.”
Early Friday morning, Christian was once again at Price’s barn. He felt a hundred years old until Hunter stuck his head out of the stall and greeted him. Christian stroked the colt’s neck. “Are you ready, boy? Ready to win today?”
“Hey, you ain’t supposed to touch the horses,” barked a strapping woman marching down the shed row.
“This is my horse.”
“Oh, well, you sure don’t look like an owner. Most of them are older.” The woman snapped a lead on
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