Page 43 of Demons

I glanced back to see Maeme typing away on her iPad.

She looked up and smiled. “Seems everything is set and in order. You can move in when you’re ready. Just give me a call when it’s a good time to sign the lease,” she said, then started for her Mercedes.

“Thank you,” I said again, still struggling with all that had happened in the last thirty minutes.

She turned to look back at me. “I know it doesn’t make sense to you, but I’m the one who should be thanking you,” she replied, then winked before continuing on to her car.

She was right. That didn’t make sense to me at all. But right now, I had to deal with my mother, who was not going to want to talk about giving me my money with her being in a frenzy over her car. Working around that was going to be an issue.

I’d go to Dad alone if I had to. He was more likely to understand and agree with me.

My mom’s car had been left in the church parking lot with all four tires slashed. No other damage was done. Whoever had broken into it hadn’t left a scratch or broken a window. Dad thought she’d left it unlocked and hadn’t meant to. The cops believed since it had been returned to the church, whoever had taken it knew whose it was and did it as retaliation for something. My dad had fired the construction crew he’d hired for the addition to the church when they continued to be late or not show up. Church members were disgruntled that it was taking so long with little progress.

Both my dad and the police had concluded it was the construction crew, but they had no proof or witnesses. Not even the security camera at the service station had it. One minute, Mom’s car had been there, and the next, it was gone. The police said the recording had been spliced.

As crazy as all that seemed in a town like Madison, where things rarely happened, my dad had handed over all of my money that my mom wouldn’t return to me and told me not to tell my mother where it had come from.

I decided if the minister told you to lie, God was good with it.

• Twenty •

The sick, painful tightening in my stomach and chest weren’t pleasant.

Capri

Present Day

The two calls I’d received from two different trainers, asking me to come to the stables where they worked and meet with them and the owners about racing one or more of their horses in some upcoming smaller races, didn’t help the fact that I’d not heard from anyone at Shephard Ranch in two weeks.

When I had first gotten home after a silent flight alone with no Thatcher in sight, Stellan had called me to congratulate me and said he looked forward to future races with me on a Shephard horse. That was it. Nothing else. No Miller, King, or Sebastian, and no Thatcher. Which was what was bothering me the most.

I had put off scheduling a meeting with the other two trainers as long as I could. Allowing Shephard Ranch to affect my career negatively was foolish. I needed to capitalize on my win with them and go get more jobs.

After my morning run, I showered, dressed, then sat down to call both of the trainers back with my calendar in front of me so I could write down dates and make sure I wasn’t double booking myself.

My phone ringing surprised me, and King Salazar’s name lighting up the screen made hope spring in my chest. I pressed Accept and moved my calendar away from me, hoping I wouldn’t need to make those calls after all. Well, no, maybe I should. I could ride for more than one stable. It wasn’t like I was exclusive to Shephard Ranch.

“Hello?” I said, trying not to sound too thrilled to hear from someone there.

“Capri,” King said into the line. “Are you available to come in today and take Zephyr out? We decided to enter him in the Bing Crosby Stakes in a couple of weeks. We need to see you on him before we make a decision on the jockey.”

Another Grade I race and on the back of Zephyr.

“Yes! I can be there whenever you need,” I blurted out.

“Great. Let’s do two. We’ll have him do some warm-ups and prep him before you get here.”

I nodded, then remembered I was on the phone. “Okay,” I said. “That’s perfect. I mean, I can come early and watch the warm-ups, too, if you want.”

“Sure. Anytime after one will be fine. I am going to try and be there earlier, but Sebastian and Miller will be there if I’m not.”

“Okay, thanks,” I replied.

When the call ended, I stared at my phone for several minutes, trying to wrap my head around this. I had raced many Grade III and Grade II stakes, but Grade I was a level I strived for. Now, I was getting two back-to-back in the same month. Pausing, I let some of the excitement ease out of me, remembering he had said he wanted to see me on Zephyr first. As in they were probably testing out other jockeys. I wasn’t exclusive.

I might not get this job. I had to prepare for that. If I didn’t get it though, would they want me on Zephyr at the Breeders’ Cup? My chest tightened, and I had to take a deep breath and calm down. Letting my anxiety get the best of me would not help me here. I could do this.

Glancing over at my calendar, I decided I’d wait on calling the other trainers. I had to focus right now. No use in getting my head in other places until after I rode Zephyr today.

---