Death By Derby 8 (Josiah Reynolds Mysteries) Read online

  Goetz pulled ten dollars out of his wallet and handed the money to me. “The official report about the balloon explosion came out.”

  “And?”

  “It is considered a suspicious bombing with no casualties by person or persons unknown.”

  “Accident was ruled out, huh?”

  “Yep, and you will be pleased to know that no agency will be contacting Shaneika about it in the future. She’s been scratched off the list.”

  “So, is Charlie Hoskins still alive then?”

  “There’s that possibility, but no one has seen him since the morning of the Derby. He could be lying in a shallow grave somewhere.”

  “What’s your take on him?”

  “I think Charlie is probably in Brazil or France. Some country that doesn’t have an extradition treaty with the US.”

  Goetz and I stared at each other for a moment and then broke out laughing.

  “All this over a horse who is sterile,” I said, gaining my composure. “Those investors lost their money. I feel sorry for them.”

  If Goetz was surprised that I knew about Persian Blue, he didn’t show it. “Yeah, my heart bleeds for those rich bastards.”

  “Did you know that Persian Blue was infertile before the story broke on the news?”

  Goetz rubbed his chin. “There were rumors and then Minor interviewed the horse’s vet who spilled the beans. After we knew that, Charlie’s actions made sense. Take the money and run.”

  “If Persian Blue loses the Preakness, he’ll be considered a lame duck.”

  “He’ll be sold to a dog food company after he finishes his tour regardless.”

  I shook my head. “No, Lady Elsmere is going to purchase him when his price hits bottom dollar and let him live out his life on her farm. It isn’t Persian Blue’s fault that he can’t reproduce. He’s still a great racehorse and that should be respected.”

  “I tip my hat to Lady Elsmere then. That’s a decent thing to do.”

  I shifted uncomfortably, having run out of things to say.

  “I’ll be going then,” Goetz declared.

  “Sure.”

  Goetz turned to leave.

  “Hey, Goetz,” I said.

  He swiveled around.

  “We okay?”

  Goetz’ hounddog face drooped. “Yeah, we’re okay. See ya.”

  “See ya,” I said.

  As I watched Goetz walk away, I wondered if I had made the right decision.

  40

  Boris slipped a pair of binoculars out of his coat pocket. Looking through them, he spotted his quarry. Handing the binoculars to Asa, he said, “Three o’clock. Checked shorts, straw hat.”

  Asa located Minor and his partner, Joseph Caperella, boarding a cruise ship in Miami. “Minor’s wearing Bermuda shorts,” jeered Asa. “He looks like a dork.”

  “What’s dork?” asked Boris.

  “A nerd.”

  Boris shrugged. “I have shorts like his. I see nothing bad about them.”

  Asa handed the binoculars back to Boris. “Then I should take you shopping.”

  “Shopping with you? A woman who wears nothing but black? I should go shopping with you?”

  “Somehow I don’t think that was a compliment. What color would you like to see me in?”

  Boris gave Asa the once-over. “Something bright and cheerful. Maybe a gold or a soft pink.”

  “Pink? You’re pushing it there, boy.”

  “Something besides black. It’s depressing.”

  “You wear black.”

  “I am man. I am the muscle. Black is masculine.”

  “You are forty years behind the times is what you are.”

  Boris harrumphed. Turning his attention back to the cruise ship, he asked, “Are we to board?”

  “No. We have plenty of agents on board to keep tabs on Minor. They’ll notify us when they catch Minor putting the make on Charlie Hoskins.”

  “It was clever of you to put tracking device in Minor’s wallet, or we’d not know that he got a lead on Hoskins.”

  “He always took long showers. Gave me enough time to go through his wallet. You know where I put it? He still had a picture of me. I put that dot on my eye. He would have to be looking for it to discover that it is there.”

  “GPS that small?”

  “Classified really. Still experimental. An Army general owed me a favor.”

  “Ah,” commented Boris. He was quiet and then asked, “Minor still had picture of you?”

  “Funny, huh?” Out of the corner of her eye, Asa caught a glimpse of the dock security heading for their car. “Let’s go. We’ll catch a plane to the Caymans and be there before the ship docks. I want to witness Minor taking Charlie down.”

  “Then what?” asked Boris, putting the car in gear and driving away. They headed toward the airport.

  “Then I contact one of Charlie’s partners and let them know that Charlie and the money have been found. I’ll let nature take its course.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I’ve got an inside contact with the Cayman police. As soon as Charlie is arrested, I’ll know the numbers to his account and the amount. What I’m interested in is that all the money in the account is taken into evidence.”

  “You think Minor will skim some off the top.”

  “I’ve always wondered how dirty Minor was. Now is my chance. He doesn’t think anyone is watching.”

  Boris looked at Asa with admiration. “So if money is missing, then the syndicate for Persian Blue will put two and two together.”

  “And since many of them are from New Jersey, I believe they will take matters into their own hands.”

  “You would do this to a man you once loved?” questioned Boris.

  “I’ve always wondered who leaked my name to the press. In the back of my mind it was never anyone from the Washington Post. I’ve always suspected it was Minor.”

  “Why would he do such bad thing?”

  “Power, Boris. He made a trade and I was the bargaining chip.”

  “You don’t know.”

  “No, but I’m getting close to finding out the answer.”

  Asa watched Boris drive. “I hope I’m wrong, Boris. But something in my gut tells me my hunch is right.”

  “Too bad.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “A husband should protect his wife. That’s his duty. I would always protect my woman first.”

  “I believe you, Boris. You’re a good man. I’m glad you’re my partner in this.”

  Boris shot Asa a quick smile. “Maybe in the Caymans, we go shopping. I pick out an outfit for you and you pick out an outfit for me.”

  Asa didn’t reply.

  “What’s the matter? You think I pick out something ugly?”

  “No, it’s that I haven’t contemplated doing something fun for the longest time. I wouldn’t know how to act.”

  “After Hoskins is arrested, we stay on the island for a few days. Unwind. Eat. Sleep. Dance. Enjoy life a little.”

  Asa thought for a moment. Should she? She was tired and needed to rest. And she would feel more comfortable if she had Boris to watch her back. Finally, she said, “Yes, let’s do, but do me a favor. Don’t tell my mother.”

  41

  And where was the man who had caused all this turmoil and excitement?

  Was Charlie in Rio?

  Was Charlie in a pine box buried somewhere in the forests near Louisville?

  Was Charlie sleeping with the catfish in the Ohio River?

  No.

  Charlie was alive and well, dressed in a loud yellow Hawaiian shirt and sandals with white socks, catching a cab to the Port of Miami.

  42

  Charlie Hoskins was a happy man. His plan had worked. Even though he wanted to smile at the man who checked his passport, he couldn’t. His face was too tight and raw from the reconstruction.

  Passing into the main lobby of the ship, Charlie glanced in a mirror. Again, Charlie smiled
inwardly. His own mother wouldn’t recognize him.

  Someone bumped into him, which caused Charlie to groan. He needed to get to his stateroom fast and take more pain medication. With a map of the ship and his key card in hand, Charlie finally made the way to his suite.

  Throwing himself on the bed, Charlie delighted in his luxurious surroundings. He began to chuckle, but stopped when that caused a spasm of pain.

  Charlie hurriedly unzipped his bag and opened a vial containing pain medication. He popped several pills and swallowed them with the champagne he discovered on the nightstand beside his bed. There was also a basket full of chocolates to accompany the fruit and muffin tray.

  Charlie sighed. He had worked hard for decades, but never achieved the monetary success he felt he deserved. Only when he discovered that Persian Blue was shooting blanks did Charlie concoct a plan to live the life he always wanted. And he had gotten away with it too.

  Ever since that fateful day when the vet told Charlie the results of Persian Blue’s fertility test, Charlie began planning his escape. He transferred most of the syndicate’s money to an untraceable account in the Caribbean. Then he found a plastic surgeon with a gambling problem, who was happy to be paid in cash.

  The hardest part was to plan his getaway from Kentucky to Miami. He staged it during the Kentucky Derby where his associates would be so sloshed with Mint Juleps and partying with their friends, they wouldn’t investigate the balloon explosion until after the Derby race.

  His only regret is that he didn’t see Persian Blue run the Kentucky Derby in person. He saw the race later on YouTube.

  Charlie teared at the thought of his beloved horse. That sacrifice was almost too much to bear.

  If only Persian Blue had been whole. Things would have turned out much differently. But they hadn’t and Charlie accepted that fact, even if he didn’t like it.

  The money would make up for his disappointment.

  43

  “This is like finding a needle in a haystack,” grumbled Joe Caperella to Minor. “There is no one aboard this ship that looks like Charlie Hoskins.”

  “We assumed that Charlie had his face redone, so look for someone with his body type with a red face and fresh scars,” replied Minor, sucking on a rum punch with a colorful paper umbrella in the glass.

  Both men were ensconced near the pool, pretending to play gin rummy.

  Joe looked around the pool area. “I see lots of short, fat men with red faces. This is next to impossible.”

  Minor put down a card. “If we can’t identify him on the ship, we have agents staked out at the banks when we dock tomorrow. We’ll catch Charlie Hoskins sooner or later.”

  Joe picked a card up from the stack and looked at it.

  Grimacing, he threw it down.

  Minor quickly picked it up and playfully announced, “Gin!”

  44

  Boris and Asa were on the trail of Minor, who was following a man he thought might be Charlie Hoskins. The man had hairline scars on his face and he had stayed in his cabin most of the cruise except for this port of call. Now this man was going straight to a bank.

  Minor sat across from the bank in a little café. He spoke into a lapel microphone. “If the man in the green parrot shirt withdraws a lot of cash, pick him up outside the bank for questioning.”

  Asa and Boris followed suit and sat at an outdoor bar where they had a view of both Minor and the bank. Even if Minor had looked in their direction, he never would have recognized Asa. She was wearing resort clothes with ample padding underneath and a gray wig. Boris was also gray and hunched over. They looked like an average retired couple on their first voyage.

  “Is this what you meant by shopping for new outfits?” kidded Boris, glancing at Asa. “You look old.”

  “Thanks. I worked hard on the makeup,” replied Asa.

  “I don’t mean that in a good way,” mumbled Boris, looking away.

  “What did you say?”

  “Nothing.”

  A waiter came over. Boris ordered some drinks and appetizers.

  They were pretending to look at timeshare brochures when all hell broke loose across the street.

  The man with a green parrot shirt came out of the bank with a briefcase and was accosted by three men. He was thrown to the ground and handcuffed.

  During the scuffle, the parrot man dropped his briefcase, which popped open when it fell.

  Both Asa and Boris rose from their seats to get a better view. Asa made visual contact with her agent stationed outside the bank, who began discreetly filming the incident, including the contents of the briefcase. “Is there money?” she texted.

  “Sí,” was the reply.

  “We have it!” she gleefully exclaimed. She began dialing a number. “Now to download the file and send it.”

  Boris grabbed her hand. “You need to think about what you are doing. You want revenge on a husband who betrayed you. I understand. But you loved this man once. If you go through with this, you will never be rid of him. If the syndicate kills him, you will feel guilty the rest of your life. If he gets away with his schemes, then you will be angry and resentful the rest of your life. Either let him go or I go over to his table right now and shoot him in the head.”

  “If I ordered you to execute Minor, you would do it?” asked Asa.

  “Yes, but better to let him go. Better for you. Better for him.”

  Asa stared at her cell phone and then up at Boris, who looked so painfully sincere. Reluctantly, she pushed the end button.

  Smiling, she pulled off her wig. “Louie, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”

  “That’s a line from movie we saw other night.”

  “Yes, it is. Let’s go shopping, Boris. Then we can lunch down by the beach. It’s such a lovely day in Paradise. Let’s not waste it.”

  Asa wrapped her hand around Boris’ forearm, and together they left the bar, headed toward the shopping district.

  As they passed by a waste barrel, Asa threw her phone in it.

  Epilogue

  So that’s how Charlie Hoskins soared to the heights of the Thoroughbred racing industry, and like Icarus, fell back to Earth.

  After the dust settled, Mike asked Shaneika out on an official date. To my surprise, she accepted. They had a nice time.

  Asa spent a month in the Caribbean, taking a long deserved vacation. Then she got called about a museum robbery in Milan. The money was too good to pass up, so she accepted the job and handled it herself rather than sending one of her people. She took Boris with her. Wonder what’s going on there.

  Kelly went back to his wife with his tail tucked between his legs. That’s where he belongs. They are working on their marriage.

  I went to see his wife. If she knows about Asa, she’s not spilling. I hope she doesn’t because Kelly loves her and if they get over this bump, they will have a wonderful life together.

  I am resigned to the fact that you don’t always get what you want, but if you try, sometimes you find you get what you need. Gee, that sounds like Rolling Stone wisdom.

  Oh, you want to know which horse won the Kentucky Derby!

  Simply turn the page.

  This is how it went down.

  And they are in the gate and . . .

  THEY’RE OFF FOR THE KENTUCKY DERBY!

  Bold Forbes on the far outside.

  Whirlaway is caught behind and now trailing.

  Tim Tam in front.

  Persian Blue moving up on the inside.

  Comanche trailing last.

  Whirlaway in a world of trouble, caught behind the pack, now moving on the outside.

  Comanche, Pink Star, and Hill Gail last as they approach the Clubhouse turn.

  It’s Tim Tam first, Bold Forbes second, and Swale third with Persian Blue moving fast on the inside.

  Burgoo King is making his move, right behind Persian Blue.

  Coming ‘round the half-mile post, it is still Tim Tam first, Bold Forbes second, and Swale w
ith Persian Blue now tied for third.

  Vagrant is fifth and Sir Barton sixth.

  Pink Star is trailing, but making strides. Pink Star now has passed Vagrant and moving to the inside.

  Sir Barton is picking it up and passing Vagrant.

  Wait! Wait! The black stallion, Comanche, is making a move and pushing his way through. Past Hill Gail! Past Whirlaway! He is bounding past Ben Brush and Baden-Baden! The crowd is going wild.

  Tim Tam still first, but Persian Blue is moving past Bold Forbes.

  They’re approaching the final stretch.

  Persian Blue, the four white stocking favorite, is neck and neck with Tim Tam, but wait . . . I can’t believe it–Comanche is flying like the wind, coming up fast.

  The crowd is on its feet and screaming like I’ve never heard them.

  Comanche has passed Bold Forbes.

  In two lengths, Persian Blue has passed Tim Tam and is now making his bid for the Kentucky Derby.

  Persian Blue has pulled out ahead of Tim Tam!

  Comanche has now passed Tim Tam!

  Comanche is challenging Persian Blue, the favorite.

  The crowd is beyond wild. I can’t believe it myself!

  Persian Blue and Comanche are neck and neck.

  They are now in the final furlong.

  Persian Blue and Comanche are giving it their all.

  As they turn for home, Persian Blue and Comanche are deadlocked, neck and neck.

  Further back Bold Forbes is third with Tim Tam following close.

  Tim Tam is fading fast!

  Persian Blue and Comanche in front battling it out. It’s going to be close with Persian Blue by a nose . . . by the tip of a nose. Folks, it’s that close.

  PERSIAN BLUE AND COMANCHE LEAVING EVERYONE IN THE DUST!

  WHAT A RACE!

  PERSIAN BLUE AND COMANCHE FIGHTING TO THE BITTER END!

  PERSIAN BLUE AND COMANCHE NECK AND NECK!