STUDS AND STILETTOS (Romantic Mystery) (30 page)

He rounded the far corner so fast, so preoccupied, he almost bumped into Emily.

“Hi,” she said. “I wanted to see you before I left.”

“Don’t go,” he said. He hadn’t intended to be so blunt, and his abrupt words obviously surprised her. Hell, they surprised him.

She blinked up at him. Tendrils of hair escaped from beneath her ball cap, dirt smudged her left cheek, and a smattering of fresh freckles covered her nose. She’d never looked more beautiful. Something yanked at his chest, and it felt like he had run a mile. “Stay with me,” he said, “until the end of the movie.”

“Stay?” Her eyes widened. “You mean in the guest room?”

He caught her hand, wincing at the reddened welts. “I was hoping my room,” he said, “but wherever you want to sleep is fine. Just stay.”

“I have to talk to you about something first.”

He loosened her hand in resignation, knowing what was coming. She wanted his help getting a speaking role. He’d been asked to use his influence so many times before, it was par for the course. Expected even. But it still bothered him. “Go ahead,” he said.

“Billy, the retired man in the caretaker’s cottage, has some sort of dementia. He’s a hoarder too. His place is a mess. He gave me this.” She tapped the cap on her head. “This cap,” she added, as though expecting a reaction.

“Very nice,” he said cautiously.

Her grave eyes remained locked on his face. “I don’t want to leave until he has more help. Normally we’d tell the Hamiltons. He’s their responsibility, not the movie’s. But when Judith and I were cleaning Billy’s cottage, we found the missing groom’s duffle bag.” She sucked in a breath. “Judith and I think Thomas Hamilton killed her.”

His hands dropped to his sides, and for a moment he couldn’t speak. Emily always surprised him, but this…this was astounding. “You’ve been cleaning for this man?” he asked. For some reason, that knowledge was important. Actresses didn’t scrub; at least the ones he had known didn’t.

She nodded. “It’s hopeless though. He’s lonely and doesn’t have any visitors, and he’s not eating properly. His personal care isn’t up to snuff either. I can’t leave without telling someone.” She nibbled at her lip. “And we think he knows something about Tracey. Mr. Hamilton turned white when he saw this hat. And Shania might know more but she’s unapproachable, and the director doesn’t even look at us—”

“Hey.” He stepped closer and wrapped her in his arms. “We’ll sort it out. Is the old man okay for tonight?”

She nodded. The brim of the cap hit his shirt and flipped backwards. He caught it in the air and studied the inscription. Typical Derby issue, year 1994. It looked authentic, definitely old style and not shaped like current ball caps.

“This is the hat Hamilton saw?” he asked.

“Yes. His face turned white, and he asked where I found it. Demanded actually.”

“I see.” Dan slipped his hand beneath Emily’s hair, absently rubbing the base of her neck. Tracey Walker had disappeared two weeks before the Derby and never resurfaced. The duffle bag seemed more significant than the cap. She probably wouldn’t voluntarily leave her bag. But anyone who knew Tracey was long gone.

“Mitzie, your stunt rider, worked here the same time as Tracey,” Emily said, as if sharing his thoughts. “She might know something. And apparently Shania researches all the characters she plays.”

He smiled, impressed with Emily’s quickness. “Shania is known for her research,” he admitted. “I’ll talk to her and also Mitzie.” He shook his head, still absorbing the information. “How did you run into the caretaker?”

“I met him walking to the stud barn. He loves doughnuts. So later, after you fired me, I had more time to visit.”

His throat tightened. “Lizzie won’t be around the little barn anymore,” he said, dragging his gaze away from Emily’s reddened hands. “Monty will be in charge. I mistakenly thought those horses were too much for you. I was mistaken about several things. I’m sorry.”

“So I didn’t do anything wrong? I was okay with the horses?” She tilted her head, relief coloring her face.

“More than okay,” he said gruffly. “If you didn’t want to be an actress, I’d hire you in a minute.”

“But I don’t want to be an actress. It isn’t what I expected. And it’s not nearly as much fun as wrangling.”

“Hey, Dan.” Anthony called, striding past with his hovering assistant. “It’s all set. We can film the crowd at Churchill on Wednesday.”

Dan nodded but looked back at Emily. It was hard to believe she no longer wanted to be an actress, especially after the way she’d worked. There hadn’t been a thing she wouldn’t do, from tossing hay bales to jumping in front of runaway horses. A paycheck had been important, but her career, more so.

“What about the university movie?” He tilted his head, studying her reaction. “It’s a chance to audition for a speaking role. You won’t get anything here but background.”

The last wasn’t quite true. He could ask Anthony to give her some lines. But he didn’t want Emily to know that; experience had made him distrustful. People said anything, did anything, for a chance to be on stage. And later they pushed everyone aside running out the door, feverishly chasing the next big opportunity.

“A speaking role isn’t important,” she said. “I was a little lost when I came here. I wanted to make some money and do something for my sister.” She flashed a rueful smile, but he caught a hint of wistfulness.

“And now?”

“Now if we can help Billy, maybe find out what happened to Tracey, that would be plenty.”

Hope buoyed in his chest like a hot balloon. “Then I think you better stay with me until the wrap party,” he said. “Twenty-year-old mysteries don’t get solved overnight.”

*

“Yes,” Dan said, adjusting the phone against his ear. “It’s a Derby cap with the horse’s name. Mitzie said they were never released. Did they show up in any of your research?”

Emily sipped her wine and peeked at his face. Dan had been talking to Shania for at least fifteen minutes and it was clear the actress was delighted to hear from him. It was equally clear he was determined to keep the conversation on a business footing.

She shifted in the kitchen chair, still amazed that any man could remain immune to someone as beautiful as Shania. Emily had ducked into Dan’s bathroom for a quick shower, but there hadn’t been time for primping. He’d been in a hurry, insisting on grilling her a thick steak before going inside to make the calls.

Until now, she’d forgotten her face was bare, her hair still damp. It was rather intimidating picturing the beautiful movie star at the other end of Dan’s phone.

As if sensing her thoughts, Dan leaned over and squeezed her hand. Her heart kicked with pleasure and she stopped worrying about her dripping hair. No doubt about it, he wasn’t swayed by high fashion. Besides, he already knew the location of every freckle on her body.

“Thanks, Shania,” he said. “See you later.”

He cut the connection, his voice grave. “Those ball caps were ordered but never distributed to staff. Tracey had the only one. She wore it for the official photo with Reckless, taken the day before she disappeared.”

Both of them were silent for a moment, staring at the hat lying benignly on the table.

“Tracey might have given it to Billy,” she said, gripping Dan’s hand like a lifeline. “Or she could have left it, or—”

“Or Billy might have killed her,” he said gently.

“It wasn’t Billy.” She shook her head. “He gave me the hat. It was Hamilton who reacted.”

“I think we have to consider all the scenarios,” Dan said, his face grave. “Shania confirmed Mitzie’s statement that it was Hamilton who reported Tracey missing. And you said Billy is forgetful. He may not have remembered he was hiding the hat.”

She pressed her arms over her stomach, feeling slightly sick. “If Billy did kill her, what will happen? How can you question someone with dementia?”

Dan dragged a regretful hand over his jaw. “I’ll visit tomorrow. Try not to scare him. It would help if you came along. There might be a simple explanation.”

“Maybe. But it doesn’t seem like anything good will come out of it.”

“No,” he said softly, “it doesn’t.”

*

Emily slapped down her ace with a whoop of delight and leaped on Dan’s lap. “I finally won a hand. You’re very good. Montana cowboys must play a lot of cards.”

There was no question where she’d be sleeping tonight. And thanks to Dan’s entertaining company, along with several highly contested card games, she’d managed to stop fretting about Billy’s possible involvement in Tracey’s disappearance.

She glanced down the hall to the spare bedroom, her smile fading. “There’s something I have to admit. It’s been bothering me all day.”

She picked up the cards, shuffling the deck with studious concentration, afraid to see the condemnation in his face. “You know how a lot of people can get obsessed over movies,” she said, “and anyone involved with them. It affects how they act, the things they do. Even though they’re still a good person.”

“Yes, I’ve run into that,” he said.

“Judith was very interested in Thomas Hamilton,” Emily went on, “and now she’s turned her attention to Tracey. So this thing with Billy, the hat and bag…she’s determined to uncover the truth. She thinks it justifies doing whatever’s necessary.”

“Go on,” he said, his voice clipped.

Emily drew in a fortifying breath, then the words came in a rush. “I’m sorry but she looked through some of your personal stuff when she was in the guest room.”

“And?”

“And, I’m sorry we slept here. I should have kept a better watch. She looked at your papers, trying to figure out how it would help get lines. I wish—”

“You wish you hadn’t slept here? Or that it had resulted in a speaking role?”

She jerked her head back, blinking. His tone was so resigned she couldn’t even feel anger at his assumption. Did he really think women hit on him because of his position?

He stared at her, his face impassive.

“If I wanted to sleep my way into the movies,” she said, “I’d probably have gone for Anthony. Not someone who hangs out with horses and can barely beat me in cards.”

His lip twitched, only slightly, but that hint of humor gave her the confidence to keep talking. To admit how she felt.

“The truth is,” she added, not even trying to joke. “I quite adore you.”

She leaned forward and kissed his cheek. But even though he obligingly tugged her closer, she couldn’t shake her despair. He liked her well enough, and he’d go to considerable lengths to protect her. However, when this movie was over, it was clear he didn’t intend to see her again.

“I don’t want to be an actress, Dan.” Panic sharpened her voice. “Really I don’t.” She knew he didn’t believe her, knew she was protesting too much, but she couldn’t stop babbling. “You think I do, and the audition you arranged for that college movie is appreciated. But everyone is different and just because when you were young—”

“It’s been a long day. Let’s go to bed.” He lifted her to her feet.

“But we should talk about this.”

“Maybe,” he said. “But not tonight.”

“Was it because your mother walked out? Or someone else? Because you should know everyone adores you.” Her voice rose. “And it’s definitely not because of your job.”

“You’re very sweet,” he murmured. Then he slanted his head over hers. She automatically opened her mouth, welcoming his lips, his tongue. He cupped her jaw and deepened the kiss. Heat zapped through her, and she made a sound of suppressed need.

She rose on her toes, needing to get closer. His hand splayed over her back and pulled her against him. She could feel his belt buckle, his zipper, his growing desire.

His hand left her face and trailed down the column of her neck to cup her breast. Her brain always shut down when he touched her, but tonight every cell seemed to be vibrating. She suspected this was his way of avoiding conversation but it totally worked. Talking was overrated anyway.

They were both breathing hard when he raised his head. He dimmed the kitchen lights and when he offered his hand, she silently took it and followed him down the hall to his bed.

“Mr. Barrett asked me to deliver this box of doughnuts. Would you like your coffee refilled?” The fresh-faced attendant smiled at Emily, almost bouncing in her eagerness to please.

Dan glanced up from the monitor, his intimate smile making her heart skip. He’d joined her for coffee on his last two breaks, and now she was buzzed on caffeine. Of course, she needed the boost. It had been another wonderful night in his arms. He’d made love to her with a passion that left her both exhausted and ecstatic.

“No more coffee, thanks,” Emily said, accepting the box of doughnuts and giving Dan a grateful wave, impressed he’d remembered Billy’s favorite food. She’d planned to drop by the dining room before their visit, but clearly Dan was more organized.

He had hoped to finish before noon, but Anthony kept demanding a re-shoot. Once this scene was over, they’d head to Billy’s cottage. The large box of doughnuts should put Billy in a receptive mood. And it would be comforting to have Dan’s imposing presence at her side. Emily didn’t like to admit it, even to herself, but Billy scared her a little.

She turned on her phone and scanned her messages. The battery was so weak, she was limited to infrequent checks. There wasn’t anything to tell Judith, not yet. However, Judith was back in Louisville and bursting with impatience. Emily scanned her most recent text:
Have you found anything else in Billy’s cottage? What’s happening?

Emily replied with a brief message and slipped her phone back in her pocket. It would have been nice if Judith was here, but no background performers were required today. As a result, there weren’t many spectators. Even the Hamiltons were absent since the scene was fairly mundane—merely Robert Dexter, the trainer, three vets and two additional grooms crowded around Reckless, trying to pinpoint why the colt had turned so rebellious.

It was clever how the company saved time and money by filming in one location, simply by changing the layout. Reckless had actually been stabled in the stud barn, along with two other top three-year-olds in training. However, all the stall scenes were shot in the big barn beside the track. Dan said they were traveling to Churchill Downs the next day to shoot some crowd scenes and would rely on stock footage for Reckless’s preliminary races.