Free Microsoft Word - DeadHeat_wrp356.doc by Owner Page B

she yanked her clipboard from its hook on
    the wall and walked out, slamming the door in her wake.
    “Whew!” Brett whistled and wiped his brow. “That
    feistiness along with those looks makes her one hot
    woman. Even with dirt all over her face. No wonder you're
    in a quandary.”
    Rye kneaded his forehead. A pisser of a headache
    threatened to magnify an already horseshit day. “Christ,
    Brett. Did you have to tell her like that?”
    “I'm not running a kindergarten here. You realize
    there's a possibility she's involved?”
    “Someone's trying to kill her, for God's sake.” Rye
    argued.
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    Pam Champagne

    “Yeah, well, what about Dimitri and her father? They
    cooperated with the mob and ended up in the morgue.”
    “Do I take it you're hanging around until this is
    solved?”
    “Yep. As your brother. I'd rather people around the
    track didn't know I was FBI.”
    “Get real. Hills knows. The entire police department
    knows. By now I'm sure half of Lexington knows. You
    could at least get rid of the suit and wing tip shoes.
    They're a dead give-a-way. I've asked Jenna to stay at the
    farm, but with you there, I doubt she will.”
    “Why not? The place is big enough. We don't even
    have to run into each other. It's important to keep her
    close. Even if she's totally innocent, she might know
    something that she's not aware of.”
    That thought had already occurred to Rye.
    “How'd she get to you, little brother? She's not your
    usual type.”
    Rye's hackles rose. “And just what is my usual type?”
    “A woman who looks good hanging on a man's arm,
    dresses fit to kill. One who knows what to say, when to
    say it and when to shut up. A woman who knows the
    score and just smiles when you tire of her and say
    goodbye.”
    Rye scowled at the picture his brother drew. “I like
    Jenna. She's a friend. Nothing more, nothing less.”
    “If you say so,” Brett said, his expression doubtful.
    “You've got a groom working for you by the name of
    Jamal?”
    “What about him?”
    “One of our agents followed him the other day. He
    walked to a convenience store. When he left, one of
    Montega's men approached him. The tail couldn't hear
    what was said, but the discussion got explosive. A lot of
    hand gesturing. Both men lost their tempers.”
    “Jamal is Tsunami's groom. I’m beginning to suspect
    the mob may have designs on the horse.” Rye opened one
    of desk drawers and pulled out a manila file folder.
    Thumbing through some papers, he yanked one out and
    handed it to Brett. “Here's his job application.”
    Brett's brows rose. “He's from Jamaica? Is he in the
    country legally?”
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    Dead Heat

    Rye snickered. “Of course he is. Do you think I'd hire
    an alien when my brother works for the FBI? By the way,
    are you working with Hills, or is he off the case?”
    “He'll hang in the background,” Brett mumbled, still
    reading the job application.
    “Right after Jenna's car exploded, Jenna received a
    threat on her cell.” Rye scribbled a number on a piece of
    paper. “Here's her cell number. She dropped the phone
    outside near the car.”
    “I found the phone last night. I'll have someone check
    it out.” Brett retrieved his briefcase from the floor. Setting
    it on the table, he flipped it open and removed a pad of
    paper along with a pen. “Tell me everything that's
    happened since you hired Jenna. Assume nothing’s
    irrelevant. Then we'll talk with Jamal.”
    Rye stood and stretched. He poured himself a cup of
    coffee, hoping the caffeine would chase away his
    headache. No way was he telling his brother everything
    that had happened since he hired Jenna.
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    Pam Champagne

CHAPTER SEVEN
    Jenna strode down the shed row with little regard to
    anyone in her way.
    “Heads up!” A hot walker yelled the standard
    warning. Jenna stepped to the side in time to avoid a
    collision with a lathered horse.
    Wake up, Jenna . Her father had taught her from the
    time she was two-years-old to always pay