Win, Place or Die Read online

  Nancy was lost in thought when she found Bess and Walt at the cafeteria. She was surprised to see how crowded it was at nine-thirty at night but decided everyone treated it like a social club. She waved to them as she ordered some french fries at the counter, then joined them at the table. Bess looked at her questioningly, but Nancy didn’t want to reveal what Ace had said in front of Walt.

  Suddenly Nancy saw Cam burst through the cafeteria doors. His face was filled with suppressed anger. Spying Walt, he walked toward their table.

  “We’ve got problems,” Cam said to Walt, ignoring Nancy and Bess. “Someone’s been snooping around the stables tonight. The stable boys say the horses have been restless. Thea and I are both sleeping on cots in the barns—I don’t know what’s going on, but I don’t like it.”

  “I’ll be on the lookout,” Walt said, worried.

  “Did you say someone’s snooping around?” Nancy asked, thinking of the mysterious figure both she and Ace had seen around Flash’s stall. She wished she could talk to Cam alone, but it was clear to her that right then wasn’t the proper time.

  “Yep. I don’t like prowlers. Someone might be trying to harm the horses.” Cam’s steely blue eyes focused on a table across the room. “So that same someone could win!”

  Cam’s gaze was directed straight at Eddie Brent, leaving no doubt about who he meant. Before anyone could say anything, Cam was on his way to Eddie’s table.

  “I wouldn’t put it past an owner as shady as Eddie Brent to dope horses or jockeys just so Flash can win the Derby!” he shouted as he went.

  The room grew silent. Eddie Brent’s face twisted in hatred.

  Slowly the owner rose from his chair. The two men squared off as the last few voices hushed. Then—in a lightning move—Brent smashed his fist right into Cam’s face!

  Chapter

  Nine

  CUPS AND SAUCERS shattered on the floor as Cam went flying across one of the cafeteria tables. Bess jumped out of her chair. Nancy rushed to help Cam as another man grabbed Brent’s arm, holding him back.

  Cam got to his feet, holding the left side of his jaw, his eyes cold with rage.

  Brent glared right back. “Better watch your mouth, Parker,” he growled furiously, “or I might send the police sniffing around your door!”

  “Someone’s been bothering the horses at night,” Cam said tightly. “That someone is you, Brent!”

  Eddie sneered, “Try getting your facts straight before you start making accusations!” A smile curved the corners of his mouth, but there was no warmth in it. “While we’re pointing fingers, McHugh’s accident sure makes it seem like history repeating itself, eh?”

  “Cam,” Nancy murmured, placing a hand on his arm, “let’s get out of here.”

  The trainer’s face was tense, and for just a second, fear flared in his blue eyes. Brent touched a sore spot, Nancy thought. But what did his comment mean?

  Cam turned without another word, stalking across the room. As he was leaving, he turned once more to Brent. “Just stay away from the horses,” he warned, then pushed through the doors.

  Nancy, with Walt and Bess right behind her, followed Cam outside.

  “I’d better go with him,” Walt said. The jockey strode after Cam, the wind ruffling his blond hair as he disappeared into the night.

  “What was that all about?” Bess asked.

  “Someone’s been hanging around the barns,” said Nancy. “Come on, I’ll tell you everything I know on the way back to the hotel. Wait till you hear what Ace told me about Dollar Bill!” she added excitedly.

  “Dollar Bill?”

  “It’s a long story,” Nancy said, guiding Bess toward the car. On the ride back, she quickly brought her friend up to date on what she had found out. By the time she finished they were back in their hotel room, getting ready for bed.

  “So you’re going to try to find this bookie?” Bess asked, drawing the sheet up to her chin.

  Nancy yawned and stretched. “First thing tomorrow morning,” she agreed. “And I have a strong feeling that when we find Dollar Bill, we’ll be closer than ever to finding out exactly what’s going on.”

  • • •

  “I’m sorry I made us late,” Bess apologized the next morning as she and Nancy hurried through the wire gate and across the stable area toward the track. The two friends were dressed alike in jeans, tank tops, and oversize cotton shirts.

  “That’s all right,” Nancy said. “It didn’t take you as long as usual to get ready.”

  Bess grabbed Nancy’s arm and pointed toward the track. “Look! There’s Pied Piper!”

  Churning up the dirt, the chestnut colt was flying around the backstretch turn. The crowd standing around the rails watching was even bigger than the day before.

  Stopwatches clicked as Pied Piper flashed by the last furlong pole, going at a fast working clip with Jimmy Harris high in the stirrups. Thea had her hair plaited in a single black braid that was in stark contrast to her white windbreaker. She was standing against the rail.

  “Fast,” a race reporter remarked, glancing at the time.

  “Very fast,” another one echoed.

  Thea glanced up to see Nancy and Bess, a smile on her face. “Pied Piper’s fit and ready,” she said for the reporters’ benefit. “He’s in great shape.” She shoved her hands into her pockets for protection against the brisk morning.

  “What happened to the balmy Kentucky weather?” Bess complained, rubbing her arms with her hands.

  “It’ll warm up soon,” said Thea, glancing at the sun. “If the weather stays like this, the track will be lightning fast for the Derby.”

  “Have you got a few minutes to talk?” Nancy asked. She wanted to ask the trainer about Dollar Bill and try to find out what Brent’s comment about history repeating itself meant the night before. Chances were that Thea would be more approachable than Cam.

  Thea’s dark eyes assessed Nancy. “Sure. Jimmy’s going to cool down Pied Piper and take him back to the stall, so I’ve got a few minutes.”

  Glancing over at the empty grandstands, Nancy said, “Why don’t we sit down there?”

  “Sure.” Thea shrugged.

  Nancy, Bess, and Thea walked in silence. Thea’s brows were drawn together. “What did you want to know?” she asked, nervously perching on the edge of a bench.

  First Nancy brought up what she knew about Dollar Bill, carefully omitting her source. Thea looked at her wide-eyed.

  “You didn’t know about him?” Nancy asked.

  She shook her head. “Sure, there’re bookies who place illegal bets, but I don’t know about this guy specifically. You think he’s involved in McHugh’s accident?” she asked in an eager rush.

  “Maybe.” Nancy eyed her thoughtfully. “It sounds like you want him to be.”

  Thea instantly pulled herself in, her shoulders hunched. She shivered. “I just want the police to find whoever drugged McHugh and get it over with.”

  “Thea,” Nancy said gently, “I think you’re protecting Cam.”

  Thea visibly jumped. “What do you mean?”

  Nancy took a deep breath and started in.

  “More than once I’ve heard you say you’re worried about rumors. And then I overheard Eddie Brent make a remark to Cam about McHugh’s accident being like history repeating itself.”

  “Eddie said that?” Thea gasped.

  “Yes, he did. What do you think he meant?”

  When Thea didn’t respond immediately, Nancy added gently, “Ken McHugh was drugged. The police are hard at work trying to find who did it. Whatever rumors you’re trying to hide are bound to crop up when they start asking questions.”

  “It’s all so unfair!” Thea burst out bitterly, her face twisting with anguish. “Cam and I want to get married, but Cam won’t set a date until the rumors have died off completely.”

  Bess’s face drew up in a worried frown. It was clear her heart went out to the girl.

  “What rumors?” Nancy asked gent
ly.

  Thea sighed. “I guess I might as well tell you. Cam used to work for another horse-breeding farm. He had an excellent reputation and trained a lot of winners, but the premier jockey who rode for them couldn’t stand him. There were constant fights. One day Cam caught the jockey stealing some money from his wallet.”

  “What happened?” Nancy asked expectantly.

  “Cam went to the owner, and the jockey was fired. Then the jockey spread all kinds of rumors about Cam—all of them completely untrue!”

  “What kind of rumors?” Bess asked.

  “Oh, that he was placing illegal bets, fixing races—terrible things! And then—” Thea cut herself off as if she couldn’t go on.

  “And then?” Nancy prodded.

  “And then the jockey died in a stable accident,” the trainer said flatly. “It was proved to be just an accident, but suddenly everyone believed all the rumors he’d spread before he died! Cam was even accused of being responsible for the jockey’s death.” Thea snorted. “It was ridiculous, of course, but he lost his job. And then no one would hire him. He couldn’t get work.”

  Nancy looked down at the track, watching a Derby hopeful work out. “Enter U.J.,” she murmured, understanding for the first time why Cam had worked for the irascible owner.

  Thea glanced at Nancy, and she looked surprised at the girl’s perception. “That’s right. U.J. offered Cam the position of head trainer for Johnson Farms. It was a great opportunity. Cam jumped at the chance. U.J., for all his faults, understood horses and racing and everything that went with it. He knew how good Cam was.” She smiled crookedly. “He didn’t pay him very well, but U.J. was notoriously tight. Cam got his chance to work with top-class Thoroughbreds again, and things were looking up.”

  “Then U.J. died,” Nancy said, picking up the thread of the story, “and people suspected Cam of being responsible.”

  Thea nodded. “That’s right. U.J. had been sick a long time. Everyone knew it. But Cam got blamed for his death, anyway!” She pounded her right fist against her knee. “People were jealous of Cam’s success and just wanted to believe awful things about him.”

  Now Nancy understood what Ken McHugh had meant about Cam having enemies. There were people who simply didn’t trust him, or envied him.

  “Then when Cam inherited the farm, that was just the icing on the cake,” Thea finished bitterly.

  Nancy blinked and looked at Bess. Her friend simply shrugged her shoulders, obviously as confused as she was.

  “Cam inherited the farm?” Nancy repeated in disbelief. “What about Evan and Laura?”

  Thea looked down at her clenched hands. “As I understand it, Evan was cut out of everything, even the house. Laura was left that. Evan and U.J. didn’t get along. In fact, Evan’s been away from Kentucky most of his life. He just returned since U.J. died.” She shook her head. “I don’t think Evan and Laura even saw each other that much until he learned what she’d inherited. Laura owns the breeding rights,” she explained.

  “You mean other owners pay Laura for the right to breed their horses with hers?” Bess asked.

  Thea nodded.

  “But Cam owns the farm and animals,” Bess repeated.

  “That’s right,” Thea answered defensively, obviously resenting the implication. “If you’re thinking Cam had a motive to kill U.J., forget it. Cam may own the farm, but Laura’s got the breeding rights, and Ken McHugh inherited seventy-five percent of all the winnings from any Johnson Farms Thoroughbred. The amount of money Cam earns from racing barely keeps the farm going. McHugh was the one with all the money!”

  Nancy stared at her. “Ken McHugh inherited seventy-five percent of all Johnson Farms’ winnings? Cam only gets twenty-five percent?”

  Thea nodded. “That’s right.”

  An awful thought went through Nancy’s mind. And who gets that seventy-five percent if Ken McHugh dies? she wondered. Cameron Parker?

  • • •

  “I don’t understand,” Bess said later that afternoon as she and Nancy relaxed by the hotel pool. As Thea had predicted, the weather had turned warm and balmy. “How could McHugh be desperate for money when he was earning seventy-five percent of the winnings? Isn’t that a lot? There are tons of horse races, and Johnson Farms raises a lot of winners.”

  “McHugh is a heavy gambler,” Nancy reminded her. “He could have lost a lot of money. It might take a lot of winners to recoup his losses.”

  “What a waste,” Bess said with a sigh. “I just hope the police catch Dollar Bill.”

  Nancy felt the sun hot on her face as she closed her eyes and leaned back against her lounge chair. Dollar Bill, she thought. Ken McHugh’s accident could have been caused by the crooked bookie, but it didn’t seem likely.

  Thinking of what Thea had told her, Nancy leapt to her feet and pulled a knee-length T-shirt over her bikini. “I’ll be right back,” she told Bess. “I’ve got to talk to my dad.”

  She hurried back to her room and placed a call to her father’s office. Luckily, she caught him in.

  “I need you to do me a favor,” she said after bringing him up-to-date on Pied Piper and Ken McHugh’s accident. “Is there any way you can find out the contents of Ulysses Johnson’s will? I know some of what it contains, but I’d like to have the details.”

  “I’ll do what I can,” Carson promised.

  “And, Dad, could you find out if Ken McHugh has a will? I want to know who his heirs are.”

  “I might have to pull a few strings to find out,” her father answered, a smile in his voice. “How is McHugh, by the way? Any change?”

  “No. He’s still in a coma, the last I heard,” Nancy answered soberly. “Dad, I’ve been doing some hard thinking about who would want to hurt McHugh,” she added.

  “Any conclusions?”

  “One.” She drew in a long breath, afraid to even voice the thought.

  “If Ken McHugh dies,” she said finally, “it’s possible that his seventy-five percent of the winnings reverts to the farm.”

  “And?” her father prodded. “What are you thinking, Nancy?”

  “Then Cam inherits it all. I hate to say it, Dad, but that gives him a prime motive for murder!”

  Chapter

  Ten

  HOW DO I look?” Bess asked, striking a pose in front of Nancy. In peach cotton pants, a matching oversize shirt, and a silver belt cinching the shirt in, Bess was the picture of chic.

  “Terrific,” Nancy proclaimed.

  “Thanks.” Bess fluffed her bangs in the mirror. “What are you going to do tonight while I go out with Walt?”

  “Actually,” Nancy said, smiling thoughtfully, “I’m going back to the track.”

  “So late?” Bess asked.

  Nancy nodded. “I think I’ll ask Thea if I can sleep on a cot in the barn tonight. I want to be there if the person who’s been snooping around shows up again.”

  Bess hesitated. “Do you want me to stay at the barn with you?” she asked bravely.

  “Thanks, but no. You could do me a favor, though. When you’re out with Walt tonight, see what you can find out about Johnson Farms.”

  “Sure. Anything else?”

  Nancy frowned. “Nope. Except have a good time.”

  “I’ll try my best,” Bess said, dimpling.

  After Walt picked Bess up, Nancy’s mind turned back to the mystery. Cam had mentioned that Walt was a great jockey. Why, then, had Ken McHugh been chosen to ride Toot Sweet in the Derby? Unless her theories were right and McHugh’s earnings for Johnson Farms would revert to Cam. If that was the case, Cam might be very interested in having McHugh ride—just to make sure he had a fatal accident.

  Nancy mulled over the facts as she drove to the track. Cam seemed honest enough, but she’d seen ample evidence of his hot temper. Had he let his emotions run away with him this time?

  When Nancy had asked Thea if she could sleep at the barn, Thea promised to give her an extra cot and sleeping bag. All Nancy brought with her was he
r purse and her penlight. She wasn’t going to be caught in the dark again!

  Thea had told her she’d be eating a late dinner at the stable cafeteria and then spending the evening with Cam, so when Nancy arrived one of the grooms showed her where her cot was.

  “Thanks,” Nancy told him, laying out her sleeping bag.

  It was cool in the barn but pleasant. The smell of hay and feed and the sharp scent of horse liniment filled the air. Nancy inhaled deeply, then stepped outside into the warm evening air.

  Moonlight lit faint, ghostly strips over the ground. Her penlight safely tucked in her pocket, Nancy walked around the barns. More lights were on this evening, and there was some activity even that late. The Derby was less than forty-eight hours away, and excitement was building.

  When Nancy returned to Pied Piper’s stall, the grooms were already asleep, so she climbed into her sleeping bag, too. She lay awake, though, turning the mystery over in her mind.

  Drugging McHugh had been a desperate act, as had been cutting the girth strap. It was clear that someone wanted McHugh out of the way, but why? Was that someone Cam? Until she knew if Johnson Farms—and Cam—inherited McHugh’s seventy-five percent, Nancy had no way of knowing if Cam had a solid motive. She had to wait for her father to call back and confirm her suspicion. If there was any other motive, she couldn’t think of what it was. Dollar Bill had threatened McHugh, but McHugh had promised him his money, so why would he try to kill him before the Derby?

  Thea returned to the stable at about half past eleven. She moved quietly, but Nancy said, “I’m awake.”

  “Has everything been quiet around here?” Thea whispered, zipping up her sleeping bag.

  “As quiet as can be expected. There’s been no sign of any prowler,” Nancy added.

  “Well, I’ve got an early day tomorrow,” Thea said, yawning. “Pied Piper’s last workout before the race is tomorrow morning, and I want to get up and going. ’Night.”