Gargantuan_ A Ruby Murphy Mystery - Maggie Estep [64]
Henry and Violet are beside themselves telling me what a nice job I’ve done. Jessica Dunn is beaming at me. Chances are, everyone she knows told her never to expect to do more than lose money on owning a horse, so to win with her very first horse is probably beyond beautiful for her. Jessica reaches up, takes hold of my hand, and squeezes it. I squeeze back, glad to win one for a lady who seems like someone I’d actually like to be friends with. I scan around and see Ruby, standing next to Violet now. Both women are beaming like I’ve just won the Derby.
Muley shakes his head a little, wanting me off his back now that his work is done. I wait for the photographer to capture the happy occasion before hopping down. I tell Ruby I’ll see her a little later then I head back into the jocks room to change silks since I’ve actually got a ride in the next race too.
“Nice work, junior,” Richard Migliore says as I pass him in the hall.
“Thanks,” I say, still not thrilled with the junior business but well beyond caring at this point.
I start wondering if maybe I can pull off another win. I’ve never won two races in one day, never mind two races back-to-back. I feel confident though, like anything is possible.
But a daily double is evidently not in the stars for me today. Two jumps out of the starting gate, I realize that my mount, Appellation, a seven-year-old claiming mare, is sore. She was a little stiff warming up but it seemed like the kind of stiffness that would pass. It hasn’t. The old girl just isn’t running well. I’ve only been on her once before and she wasn’t the smoothest of rides then, but this is more than awkwardness. The mare is unsound. I start cursing out Nick Blackman, the hack who calls himself a trainer and entered poor Appellation in this race. I’m not sure how Blackman held the mare together long enough for the track vet not to notice the old girl was off. Maybe Blackman’s paying the vet off. Who knows. But I should have been wary. I knew Blackman’s reputation.
My good friend Richard Migliore happens to have his filly right next to mine.
“Pull her up, junior, she’s gonna break down,” he shouts.
He’s right. I ask the mare to slow down and I pull her up.
A few minutes later, I ride Appellation off the track and hand her off to her groom and Nick Blackman curses me out. I curse him right back until Appellation’s owner, an old man with a bad attitude, comes over. At this point, Blackman turns his back to me and starts drumming up excuses for the benefit of the old man who, of course, wouldn’t notice if his mare was missing an entire leg.
I’m not sure how I brought myself to ride for Blackman at all. But at least I didn’t let the mare break down on the track.
I skulk off, not caring what Blackman or the old fuck thinks of me.
I go back to the jocks room where I avoid eye contact with the others and change back into my street clothes. As I emerge, hoping to put the whole episode out of my mind, what is fast becoming a bad afternoon gets worse.
“Johnson,” a voice says behind me.
I turn around and come face-to-face with a man I’ve never seen before. He’s well over six feet and his upper body is massive. He has rust-colored hair and a flat nose smattered with brown freckles. He doesn’t look like an easygoing guy.
“Yes?” I raise my eyebrows at him.
“A word about race five tomorrow.”
I don’t like the sound of this. He’s using the same tone of voice that Tony Vallamara used when he’d come ask me to hold a horse back. And tomorrow’s fifth race happens to be the one I’m riding Jack Valentine in. Even if I was up for fudging a race, this wouldn’t be one I’d fuck up.
I look at the guy, waiting for the foul words to come out of his mouth.
“You’re gonna have a little incident,” the guy says.
“I am?”
“Yes. You are. I’ll make it worth your while.”
“I’m sorry, I’d prefer not to have any incidents,” I say calmly.