CHAPTER NINE
“No!” Michaela cried out. The group, all men, turned and looked at her. Ethan motioned her over. “You can’t put him down! You’re not euthanizing him, are you?”
“No, I can’t. I’m waiting to hear from the owner. Word is that you’re representing her?” He looked confused.
She shot him an equally curious expression, not clear as to what he was doing at the track almost two hours from home and his own veterinary practice. “I’ll explain later. I didn’t know you were vetting here.”
He shrugged. “No time for details. Guys, let’s get him into the ambulance and off the track. The Sedivet is starting to work. Manny, you and Gordon stay with him. Give me a minute and then I’ll be on board. Michaela, let me help these guys first, then I’ve only got about thirty seconds to fill you in on the situation.”
She nodded and stood back as six men lifted the injured horse into the ambulance. The poor animal still wanted to get back on the track and run, his coat glistening from sweat and probably some pain as the initial injury was likely being felt by him right about now. Halliday tossed his head from side to side and let out a sharp whinny. Michaela’s heart beat hard against her chest. She brought her hand up to her mouth to keep from crying as she watched the animal suffer.
Ethan came back out, sweat causing his brown waves of hair to stick to the side of his face. “Okay, so I’ve called ahead. If Mrs. Bowen wants us to try and save him we can take him to the Helen Woodward Center down in San Diego. If we can save him through surgery, then that’s the best and closest facility to do it at.”
“Yes, that’s what she wants. Chances?”
“Right now, I’m not certain how bad the fracture is. I need to set the splint, get him on an IV for fluids and shoot him full of some more painkillers. His head is still in the race. He's a strong animal. Once we get him down there, and get the x-rays on him, I’ll have a better idea as to where things stand.”
“Okay, thank you. Notify me as soon as you can.”
“Mrs. Bowen needs to be aware that even if the break can be fixed, it’ll be touch and go for a while, and after that a long period of rehab. There’s the possibility of infection. It will be a long haul. I’ve already called in the best surgeon I know. I’ll be in there with him, but Dr. Laube is top-notch.”
Ethan started to climb in the ambulance.
“Hey, do you know where Dr. Pratt is?” She was hoping that Bob had at least communicated with the track vets.
Ethan shrugged. “Didn’t show. Partly why I’m here.”
“Call me?” Michaela asked.
Ethan nodded and closed the doors. The ambulance pulled away.
Michaela watched as they sped from the grounds. She felt on the verge of tears again. The poor animal...and Ethan. What was he really doing here? Ethan lived only miles from her in Indio. Memories of growing up with him interrupted her focus for a minute: hanging out with him as a teenager, holding his hand through his first heartbreak over Summer leaving him the day before their wedding, and then standing by as Summer worked her way back into Ethan’s life. She couldn’t help wondering if Ethan and Summer would wind up the way she and Brad did. But now Summer was due to have Ethan’s baby in the next six weeks. He wanted badly to be a father to the baby, insisting on solidifying his and Summer’s relationship only days after she told him she was pregnant. That was eight months ago, and since then Summer had done her damndest--and had done it quite well--at putting a wedge between Michaela and Ethan—purposely.
She shook off her thoughts, knowing she needed to find Audrey and tell her about Bob, and then they could go find Kathleen. The day at the races had turned quite horrible. She went looking for Audrey. Hadn’t she headed down this way? Michaela glanced around, suddenly realizing she was still on the track. Turning to get off, she spotted Hugh and his trainer leading Flashing Chico back to the stalls. She called out to him.
“Michaela, I saw you on the track with the vet. What did he say?”
She briefly told him what she knew.
“Damn. He’s a good horse. The last anniversary present I gave to Kathleen—for our twentieth.” He shook his head. “I know it won’t mean anything to her, but when you see Kathleen, tell her how sorry I am.”
“Sure. Congratulations.” She nodded at the horse.
“Yes; bittersweet win, though. I would rather Chico had lost and have Halliday be okay than this.”
She nodded. “By the way, have you seen Audrey? I thought she was going down to the track to check on Halliday, but I can’t find her.”
“No. Jeez. Everyone seems to be disappearing. I hear Bobby didn’t show up to vet today. I don’t know what to think. The Eq Tech folks won’t be happy about it. Hell, I’m not happy about it. I helped get him that job there. A favor to Audrey. He’s a good man, but I sure in hell hope he hasn’t gone off the wagon. I can’t find my wife either. She was heading out to get a bottle of champagne. Took my jockey with her. And, I haven’t seen my daughter since she was on stage.”
Michaela remembered Olivia running out with Steve Benz and wondered if she should tell Hugh. Probably; but the girl was not a kid. She was an adult. Still, Hugh was her dad and she knew how much her own parents worried about her, and she was in her thirties. She’d already had misgivings about not telling Audrey about Bob, and knew it was a mistake not to have told her yet. “Uh, I saw Olivia.”
“You did?”
“Yes. I saw her leaving with Steve Benz and another guy. Tall, bald, skinny.”
“What?” both Hugh and his trainer said in unison.
Michaela caught the trainer’s expression as his hazel eyes darkened. He was also tall; Michaela had noticed a slight limp in his left leg. He had shaggy brown hair, and some scars from the result of what had likely been aggravating teenage years with acne. He brushed his hand through his hair and quickly introduced himself when he realized that Michaela was looking at him. “Josh Torrey. I train Mr. Bowen’s horses.”
“Right. Oh sorry, Josh,” Hugh said. “What do you mean Olivia was leaving with that Benz character? And who is this other man?”
“I have no idea.”
“Marshall Freidman,” Josh said. “I bet that’s who it is. Benz’s manager; they’ve been trying to track down Olivia for weeks. I told Audrey about it. They were really bothering her. They probably dragged her out of here to get her away from Audrey.”
Michaela hadn’t gotten the impression that Olivia was being dragged anywhere. Yes, they had seemed to be in a rush but it didn’t look to be against anyone’s will. Granted, she hadn’t clearly seen Olivia’s face.
“When did you see this?” Josh asked. Now he had Hugh’s attention. ‘I’m only asking for you, sir.”
“Yes, when did you see her leaving?”
“When I was running down to the track, I’m pretty sure it was them.”
“That guy is such an ass,” Josh said.
“He’s not exactly who I want my daughter with. Let’s get this fellow back to the stall.” Hugh patted Chico’s neck. “Then I’ll try Olivia’s cell phone.”
They rounded the corner to the stalls. Grooms, trainers and owners were busy with their horses. Horses' whinnies resounded, along with the strains of Spanish music being played in some of the tack rooms.
Josh handed Chico off to one of the grooms. He went inside the tack room and returned with cell phone in hand. “You can use my phone to call her,” he said, handing it to Hugh.
“Thanks.” He started to dial when a shrill scream rang out from several stalls away. The screaming didn’t stop; it grew louder. “What the hell?” He handed the phone back to Josh and along with a few other people, including Michaela, hurried toward the source, out near where the massive horse trailers and semis were parked. Approaching it, Michaela gasped. Was that Bridgette, Hugh’s wife? Yes. What was she standing over, screaming bloody murder about?
She walked closer, and… Oh, no! No! No! She started running. Hugh got there first. He knelt down, Bridgette continued to scream. A man stood next to her, his mouth agape. Hugh yelled at her to shut the hell up. She did. The other man stepped back. This could not be happening. Michaela stared as Hugh picked up the hand of her friend—of Audrey. Then pulled her body in close to him. Blood everywhere. Somewhere behind her she heard someone calling 911. She couldn’t move. Paralysis shrouded her as reality hit. A pair of reins encircled Audrey’s neck; her face was ashen, eyes bulging out in shock and pain. A terrified look on her face—again not real—like a mask. Couldn’t it just be a mask? Please God.
But as Hugh looked back up, tears on his face, she knew it was no mask. Audrey had been strangled to death and the blood…the blood was coming from her head. She must have fought. That was who she was—a fighter—and, whoever had done this was evil, pure evil. He’d finished her off with a deep blow to the head. Michaela knew her friend was dead.
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