Deadly Heritage: a horse mystery: a horse mystery by Leland Toni

Author:Leland, Toni [Leland, Toni]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Equine Graphics Publishing Group
Published: 2008-02-27T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

Kellie glanced in the rearview mirror to check on the trailer, then looked over at Sara. “Ready to bring home the trophy?”

“Of course! Sonny Black will be the only other good rider there, and he's been grounded a week for skipping school.”

“Meaning?”

“He isn't allowed to ride when he's in trouble, so he'll be out of practice.”

Sara's smug expression didn't sit well with Kellie. “Don't gloat over someone else's misfortune, my dear. Bad chickens always come home to roost.”

“Where do they go before they come home?”

“It's just an expression meaning-”

“I know what it means, Mother. I'm not stupid.”

Sara's pre-show jitters were obviously getting the best of her. Kellie changed the subject.

“What do you want for your birthday?”

“A roping saddle.”

Kellie threw her a sharp look. “You are not going to rodeo. Period.”

“Why? Because I'm a girl? You did it!”

“I know, and Grandpa nearly went crazy every time I competed.” Not to mention my boyfriend. “It's too dangerous, honey. I want you to grow up with all your parts intact.”

Sara's jaw jutted out in defiance. “You are so mean. When I'm older, I can do anything I want.”

Kellie pushed away the painful jab and concentrated on the road ahead. God help me when she enters puberty.

Two hours later, Kellie dropped onto a bench in the fourth row of the bleachers and watched the ground crew set up for the next event. Melancholy swept over her. Sara was growing up, seeming to need less and less of her mother's support, gravitating more toward her circle of friends at school and in the horse club. Getting ready for a horse show had always been an enjoyable mother-daughter event, but today Sara had made it clear that she wanted to hang out with her friends and prepare Juicy all by herself. Quelling her disappointment, Kellie scanned the audience, hoping for a familiar face.

~ ~

Travis scuffed through the dusty parking area behind the 4-H building, pulling a last drag on his cigarette before he entered. He'd spent the afternoon in a tavern on the east side, and the heavy warm air was making him sleepy. Nature pressed him to find the men's room and, as he entered, he glanced at a young boy standing at the urinal. The kid's gaze dropped immediately to the bandage, and Travis stepped into one of the stalls and latched the door behind him. A second later, he heard the urinal flush and the restroom door bump closed. His bandaged hand was attracting too much attention. He gingerly unwound the gauze and dropped it into the toilet, grimacing at the nasty looking colors and textures covering most of the back of his hand. The center of the wound had tunneled into the flesh, spreading to the size of a dime.

He glowered at the soggy gauze floating in the toilet. Shit, maybe that wasn't such a hot idea. He savagely kicked the flush handle. Not a helluva lot he could do about it now.

Minutes later, he sat down on a hard metal bench and scanned the grandstand.

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