“Every one of them,” she said with conviction. “The bastard called me the day after the plantation fire wanting help. He didn’t deny any of it.”
Pellini and I exchanged a quick glance. It was clear we shared the same thought. “Did the cops happen to get a recording of that conversation?” I asked.
“Not that one,” she said. “But after that I gave them free rein to tap the phones.” She pressed a hand to her mouth. “They got one last night when Angus called to try to tell me he loved me and god knows what else. I didn’t want to hear it.” She dashed away a tear from the corner of her eye.
“I’m sorry you had to go through that, Mrs. McDunn,” I said. “I take it you—”
She yanked her hand up. “Ms. Kinsley,” she corrected sharply. “I’m filing for divorce and going back to my maiden name.”
“Understandable,” I said, though I wondered how Boudreaux felt about that. “What did Angus want when he called that first time?”
“Cash,” she said, a mix of fury and hurt in her eyes. “Can you believe that? Not, ‘I’m sorry I ruined your life.’ No. Money to get him by until he met up with some other people—other criminals, no doubt.” Her eyes followed the two horses coming off the track. “I need to go. Anything else?”
Pellini cleared his throat. “No, ma’am. Thank you for your time.”
She forced a smile and headed toward the long barn in the wake of the horses.
“Can you get hold of that recording?” I asked Pellini as we walked back toward Lenny.
“Tricky,” he said. “I may have to call in a favor or two, but I’ll do what I can. We have to hear it.” He nudged me with his elbow and pointed toward the far side of the track.
A big chestnut horse the color of a burnished copper penny walked onto the track. Copper to Gold, a.k.a. Psycho, with Boudreaux aboard. “Holy shit,” I said under my breath, eyes riveted on the pair.
Looking perfectly at ease in the saddle, Boudreaux brought the horse to the head of the stretch then let him run. For a moment I forgot all about Angus McDunn and Katashi and valves, enthralled by the beauty of motion, power, and speed. They galloped past, and I felt as though they carried me with them as they ran for the pure joy of running. Boudreaux slowed Psycho to a canter, then a walk, before circling and heading back our way. Boudreaux patted the horse’s neck, a broad smile on his face.
“He looks happy,” I said. “Even with all the shit going on, he looks happy. I’ve never seen him like that.” I shook my head. “We need to get out of here before he spots us.”
Too late. Boudreaux’s gaze snapped to us, and his smile melted into a scowl. He stopped Psycho about fifteen feet away and vaulted to the ground with a grace I never expected. Lenny ducked under the rail and eased their way. Psycho laid his ears back and lunged toward Lenny, but Boudreaux let out a short whistle. The horse immediately settled down and allowed Lenny to take hold of his bridle and lead him toward the gap in the rail.
Boudreaux yanked loose the strap of his helmet and stalked toward us. “What the fuck are you two doing here?” he said then glared at Pellini and stabbed a finger in my direction. “How could you bring her here?” He didn’t add you traitorous piece of shit, but he might as well have.
Pellini lowered his head and shifted his weight. “We wanted to check out a few things. Didn’t know you’d be home.”
Boudreaux stepped closer, jaw so tight the muscles on the sides of his neck stood out. “What things? Nothing for either of you here.”
I lifted my hands. “Look, maybe we shouldn’t have come here, but we did. We’ll go now.”
“No!” Outrage mottled his face with red and white patches. “You can’t just invade my home and la dee da waltz out again. You owe me.”
I met his eyes steadily. “I know what you want, but I can’t give it to you.”
He bared his teeth. “We’ll see what you have to say when—”
A horse neighed in the big barn, and he jerked his gaze that way. Catherine stood by the entrance, one hand shading her eyes as she watched us. “My mom. Goddammit. You talked to her.” Worry covered his anger. He tore off his helmet to reveal hair plastered to his head from sweat. “What did you say?” His voice shook. “Did you upset her? She doesn’t need any more shit.” Without waiting for a response, he took off toward Catherine at a jog then turned, eyes on me. “Get the fuck out of here.” He shot me the finger for emphasis before running toward his mom.
“Well.” Pellini grimaced. “I’d say that’s our cue to depart.”
“Boo ain’t happy, and I can’t say I blame him.” I struck out toward the parking lot with Pellini. “At least we didn’t say anything upsetting to his mom.”
“You hope.”
I sighed. “Yeah, I hope.” And I hoped the lead on the phone call would be worth antagonizing Boudreaux even more.
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