Flamethrower - Maggie Estep [49]
Ruby nodded. Without hope and pathological optimism, horse racing wouldn’t exist. It’s one of the things that made Ruby love it in spite of having reservations over the fates of the sport’s lesser known horses and humans.
“She’d better run well,” Violet added. “Henry and I need something to go right after losing Fearless Jones.”
“I know,” Ruby said.
“Cretins,” Violet said.
This was about as strong a word as Ruby had ever heard Violet use.
“I know you don’t want to hear this, and probably won’t believe it, but another good one will come along.”
Violet didn’t look convinced. She changed the subject. “One of my grooms has gone missing,” she said.
“Oh?” Ruby tried to seem more interested than she actually was as Violet told her how her favorite groom, Elliott, had taken off, leaving a note of apology but no explanation.
“It’s so unlike him. Elliott was always the most reliable of my boys.”
Ruby liked the way Violet called the grooms and hotwalkers her “boys,” even when some of them were women.
“Which one is Elliott?” Ruby asked.
“White. Young. Longish brown hair. Pretty eyes?” Violet was watching Ruby’s face for signs of recognition.
Something clicked.
“Was he friendly with Jody?”
“Oh yes, very,” Violet smiled. “All my owners liked him.”
Ruby was thinking of Jody’s tenant Paul and of his description of the young man he’d seen Jody with.
“Do you think he would have run away with Jody?”
“Run away with Jody? Of course not. What makes you ask such a question?”
Ruby told Violet about Paul’s description of Jody’s companion.
Violet’s mouth opened half an inch. Then closed. Then opened again.
“Do you think …?” She let the question hang.
Ruby nodded slightly.
“Elliott though? He’s so sweet.”
“Exactly.”
“Is there something I don’t know about Jody?” Violet asked. Her forehead was creased, and her eyes had gotten smaller.
“There’s apparently a lot we don’t know about her.”
“Elliott’s a good boy,” Violet said defensively. “He did get kicked out of his girlfriend’s a few weeks ago,” she admitted. “I put him in the little cabin.” She motioned toward the front of the barn, where there were two bungalows. Some trainers used these as offices; others housed their workers there.
“Can I look around?” Ruby asked.
“Oh, Ruby, I don’t know. That would be a terrible breach of privacy.”
“I thought you said he left a note that he wasn’t coming back?”
“He didn’t say he wasn’t coming back. Just that he had to go off for a while. Some of his things are still in the cabin.”
Henry appeared in the office doorway once more.
“Time to go,” he told his wife.
“Oh.” Violet glanced up at the Belmont Park wall clock that had been a fan giveaway a few summers earlier. “So it is.” She looked from Ruby to Henry and back.
“I’ll be right there, Henry,” she said.
In the end, Violet did give Ruby the key to the bungalow door.
“Don’t disturb anything,” she said.
“I’ll be very careful,” Ruby said. “Where should I leave the key when I’m done?”
“You’re not going to come watch Half Mad’s race?” Violet looked aghast. “It’s the finale on closing day, and we’ve got one running. You have to watch.”
“You’re right,” Ruby said. “It was insane of me to think otherwise.”
Ruby told Violet she’d find her at the rail in a half hour.
ELLIOTT’S TWO-ROOM bungalow was dark but tidy. The tiny kitchen area was clean, plastic plates neatly stacked to the side of the sink. The narrow bed was made. A pressed-wood dresser contained a few pairs of socks and some old jeans. There wasn’t a desk or any place where Elliott might have left indications of his whereabouts. All Ruby could tell from standing inside the bleak little bungalow was that its inhabitant had led a spartan existence. A life he was probably willing to abandon without much deliberation.
Ruby locked the bungalow door behind her then walked the few yards back to the barn. She went to stand in front of the stall Fearless Jones had inhabited. The bedding had been removed, and the hook where his halter had