"The disqualification wasn't enough for Rich. The money he got for fixing it wasn't enough. He's greedy, you know that. He used us to kill that colt. I suffered when that horse went down. When I knew what he'd had us do. And Reno." He buried his face in his hands. "I cared about that boy. Afterward, I told him it wasn't his fault, but he wouldn't listen. It's Rich who's responsible. For all of it. Then he comes around here, and he changes the rules."

"How?"

Jamison dropped his hands, wiped the back of one over his mouth. He picked up the brandy again, drank it like medicine.

"He didn't want you to win the Triple Crown, Gabe. It was eating him inside out to think you could. He told me it was a job, just a little side bet he had going. But it was money he wanted. He had me, don't you see? He had me and Reno both. But I wasn't going to hurt Double, you have to believe that. I got the drug myself this time. It was only going to be enough to eliminate him."

Gabe's eyes narrowed down into points of flame. "The night Kelsey came into the barn. It was you, wasn't it? You're the one who hurt her."

"I didn't do her any real harm. I just had to get out before she saw me. I got Kip out of the way. Didn't do more than give him a headache. Then, when she came in, I couldn't finish. I just-"

"I could break you in half for that alone, Jamie." Quick as a snake, Gabe's hand shot out, closed around Jamison's throat. "For that alone," he murmured, squeezing.

"I panicked, Gabe." Terrified, Jamison clawed at Gabe's iron grip. "Jesus, I was half out of my mind.

Can't you see?"

"I see a lot of things." Disgusted, Gabe released him.

The ugly mottled red began to fade from Jamison's face as he gulped in air. "He had me trapped. Don't you see? I told Rich I wouldn't do it, but he said if it wasn't done, we were going to pay. So I tried, even though it was breaking my heart, I tried. But it didn't work. Reno was supposed to do it the day of the Belmont, but he couldn't. Jesus, Gabe, he hung himself. A horse isn't worth dying for."

"But it's worth killing for?"

"I told you, I didn't-"

"Tell yourself," Gabe spat out. "Tell yourself you were a victim, Jamie. That you were used. That what happened to Benny Morales, and Mick, and Reno, and even to Lipsky was just the luck of the draw.

Then see if you can live with it." He rose, kicking the chair aside.

"I did what I had to do. And I stood up to him. Just tonight I stood up to him."

Gabe's head jerked up. "What are you talking about?"

"Rich was here. Not an hour ago. Drunk, mean. He was talking wild. About killing the horses, burning the barn. Christ knows what he'd have done if I hadn't held him off."

Gabe whirled and was bounding down the steps with Jamie shouting after him. He hit the lights in the barn, choking back fear as he systematically checked every box.

"I told you I didn't let him in here," Jamison said. "I told him to get out, to go sleep it off. That we were finished. I wasn't doing his dirty work anymore. Not after Reno. No matter what."

Gabe stood outside Double's box. The colt sidled forward, nuzzled lazily at his hand. "You're finished, Jamie. Pack up and get out tonight."

"A man's entitled to a place of his own. You should know that."

"Yeah, I know that. But yours isn't here, not anymore."

Within twenty minutes, Gabe had roused three grooms and posted them in the barn. Until he ran his father to ground, there would be a twenty-four-hour watch. He'd be back, Gabe thought, as he strode toward the house. The combination of greed and hate would draw him back.

Nothing would satisfy Rich Slater except his son's total misery. What was most important, most cherished, had to be destroyed.

But this time it would be different. This time ... The blood drained out of Gabe's face as his own thoughts circled back in his head. What was most important. Most cherished.

Kelsey.

Gertie tried out a new night cream she'd ordered from one of the shop-at-home channels, a guilty pleasure she sometimes indulged in on the kitchen television. The young and perky saleswoman on the screen had touted the cream as something akin to a rebirth.

Gertie didn't expect miracles, only a temporary reprieve from the lines that seemed to bloom on her face with increasing regularity.

Vanity, she clucked at her mirrored reflection. Foolish vanity for a woman who had lived on this earth for more than half a century. But when she looked closely, she thought maybe, just maybe she could spot a slight softening around the eyes where the crow had dug his feet in the deepest.

Satisfied with the new nightly ritual, she stood to remove her robe, then smiled when she heard the sound of the kitchen door creaking open.

That boy would raid the refrigerator for sure, she thought, and likely leave a mess. Boys Channing's age never chased down crumbs. She'd just go along and fix him a plate herself, see that he washed it down with milk instead of that soda pop he was always guzzling.

"I hear you out there," she said as she swung into the kitchen from her adjoining room. "No use sneaking around. You just sit yourself down, and I'll ..." She stopped, frowning. In the glow of the range light she'd left on for Channing, the kitchen was quiet, spotless, and empty. "Ears playing tricks on me," she muttered. "Maybe they'll start selling something for that on the TV."

She started to turn, then pain burst in her head. She managed one tiny, birdlike cry as she crumpled to the tile.

Rich stood over her, grinning. Coshed the skinny old bitch with her own rolling pin, he thought, and tapped the smooth heavy marble against his palm. He toed at her side, lightly, catching himself when the one-footed stance had him weaving.

Need a little balance, he decided, and reached into his back pocket for his flask. When no more than a few miserly drops hit his tongue, he swore. Stuffing the empty flask back into his pocket, he stepped over the unconscious Gertie. They were bound to have some liquor around here, he thought. Prime stuff, too.

Once he'd fueled himself up, he'd hunt up Gabe's pretty little pigeon.

Upstairs, Kelsey drank another cup of tea while she paced her room. She wished Channing would get home. At least then she'd be able to talk to someone. And who would understand better than he this horrible conflict of family loyalties? Even Gabe, for all his support, didn't share the same memories, the same affections and frustrations. Channing, when the trouble was real, was a rock.

In the morning, in a few short hours, she would tell Naomi everything she'd learned. Once the story was told, Kelsey knew she would be freeing one woman she loved, and condemning another.

For under all the bitterness, the anger, and the painful disappointment, she still loved her grandmother.

The Magnificent Milicent, she thought, shutting her eyes. How would she survive the scandal, let alone the legal consequences? And there were bound to be consequences.

And how, Kelsey asked herself, would she be able to live with the fact that what she'd done, and what she would do, could send her own grandmother to prison?

A tinkling crash of glass from downstairs had her biting back a gasp. Channing, she thought, setting down her cup. She hadn't heard him drive up, but he was obviously down there, fumbling through the dark in a very poor attempt not to wake the rest of the house.

Relieved, Kelsey hurried out of her room and down the stairs to find him.

"Channing, you idiot. What did you break? If that was one of Naomi's crystal horses, there will be hell to pay."

At the base of the stairs she stopped, listening. The house was quiet now. Quiet enough to run a chill up her arms. Stop it, she ordered herself, and rubbed them warm. "Come on, Channing, I'm not in the mood to play games. I really need to talk to you."

She snapped on the light in the foyer.

"Look, I know you're down here. Your catlike grace always gives you away. It's important, Channing."

Annoyed now, she marched into the sitting room. In the glow of moonlight she saw the glint of shattered glass on the rug.

"Dammit! It was one of the horses. Nice going, ace." She hurried over, kneeling down to pick up shards.

"All the queen's horses," Rich said, and switched on the lights. "All the queen's men." He grinned down at Kelsey. "But can the queen's lovely daughter put any of them back together again?"

He threw back his head and laughed at the sheer poetry of it.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

KELSEY GASPED IN SURPRISE AND PAIN AS HER HAND CONTRACTED around a sliver of glass. Blood welled on her palm.

"Careful there, honey pie." Rich sauntered over. "You could slice yourself to ribbons." He tut-tutted over the cut on her hand, then gallantly offered her a handkerchief. "Didn't mean to give you such a start, but I thought it was time we had ourselves a chat. Seeing as you're warming my boy's bed most nights."

"You're Gabe's father." Kelsey scrambled to her feet, but not quickly enough. Rich's hand shot out, locked around her arm.

"There's a family resemblance, isn't there? The ladies always said we made a handsome pair, me and my boy." His eyes, bright with liquor and anticipation, skimmed over her face. "Why, you're even prettier close up, doll face. It isn't hard to see why my boy's been sniffing around you. No indeedy. It isn't hard at all. Here now." He stuffed the handkerchief into her bleeding hand. "You wrap that up."

She obeyed automatically. "If you're looking for Gabe-" She broke off, reevaluated quickly.

"He's-upstairs," she said. "I'll go up and tell him you're here."

"The one thing I never tolerated from a woman was a lie." With one flick, he shoved her into a chair hard enough to snap her head back. "You'd better get that straight right now." He leaned over the chair, trapping her between his arms. "Gabe's not upstairs, now, is he? I saw him drop you off out of his fancy car just a little while ago. Don't know why he'd go home to a cold bed when he has something like you.

But I always had a hard time teaching the boy anything."

He patted her cheek, pleased with the swell of power when she cringed back. "But this works out real cozy. Just you and me, getting acquainted. Whoops. What's this here?" Chuckling, he pinched his fingers at her wrist, forced her hand up. "That's a whopper now, isn't it?" he said, eyeing her ring. "Is that what I think it is?" He wagged his finger in front of her face. "Is my boy going to make an honest woman out of you, honey pie? Well, you're a real step up from most of the sluts he's snuggled with before. No offense."

"No," she said, hoping to play the game out. "No offense taken. Gabe and I are going to be married in August. I hope you'll be there."

She cried out in shock when the back of his hand swiped across her face. His genial expression never altered. "Now, what did I tell you about lying? What you and that boy of mine would like is for me to drop dead on the spot. Wouldn't you?"

She blinked to clear her vision. "I don't know you," she said carefully. But she knew enough to be afraid, and her trembling gave her away.

"You know me. I'll give you odds my loving son's told you all about me. Your mama, too." The thought of Naomi soured his grin. "She'd have something to say about good old Rich Slater."

Kelsey anchored her chin to keep it from trembling. "I'm sorry. She's never mentioned you."

His smile thinned. "Bitch. Always was a bitch. You take right after her."

"In some ways. You're hurting me, Mr. Slater."

"Rich, honey. Or better yet, you call me Daddy. Since we're going to be family." The idea of it had him hooting with laughter until tears filled his eyes. "One big happy family. I bet that old icicle's fuming over that. Did I mention I know your grandma? I know her real well. She must be foaming at the mouth at the idea of her hoity-toity granddaughter playing house with a son of mine. She hated your mama, you know.

Hated her right down to the ground."

"I know."

"You know what I think?" He reached up, pinched Kelsey's throbbing cheek hard enough to make her gasp. "I think you should fix us both a nice drink. Then we'll get to know each other."

"All right." When he stepped back, Kelsey eased out of the chair. Her eyes darted to the patio doors, to the doorway that led to the foyer. If she could get out of the room, she was sure she could outrun him.

"You don't want to try that, honey." He pinched her arm again, his fingers digging down to the bone.

"You don't want to."

"There's brandy in the cabinet there. Napoleon."

"Well, that's just fine and dandy." He kept his hand on her arm and dragged her to it. "Pour us both a couple of healthy swallows."

He was already drunk, she thought frantically. If she poured with a generous-enough hand, she might slip past his guard. "Gabe said you've done a lot of traveling."

"I've been here and there."

"I like new places." She smiled and handed him a snifter. "Cheers." She tapped her glass to his.

"You're a cool one." Rich tossed back the brandy, then let out a long, pleased sigh. "That's one of the things that appealed to me most about your mother. She was one long, cool drink of water, that Naomi.

She never would give me a sip, though. Let plenty of others drink great big gulps, but she never let good old Rich have one little sip. Maybe she will now. I bet I can make her change her mind. Is she upstairs?"

"She's not home." Before the words were out, Kelsey was reeling back. The blow had stars bursting in front of her eyes as she fell.

"Lying bitch." With a thin smile, Rich drank more brandy. "Cold-eyed lying bitch, just like your ma.

Maybe you'd rather I had a taste of you instead." He laughed until his sides ached at the expression of animal terror on her face. "No, no, that wouldn't be proper, poking in where my boy's already been.

Besides, I prefer a more ... mature woman. And Naomi, she's been around the track a time or two, now, hasn't she? Now, maybe if your grandma had hired me instead of the coke-snorting Bradley, things would be different. Why don't we go ask Naomi if she'd like to give Rich a try now?"

"Stay away from her." Her head spun sickeningly as she lurched to her feet. Her vision was blurred where the blow had struck her eye. "I'll kill you if you touch her."

"Yeah, just like your ma. Kill a man for doing what comes natural."

"We know all about you." Dizzy, she leaned against the cabinet. She just needed a minute, she told herself. To clear the pain from her head, to get some feeling back in her watery legs. "Gabe's not here because he went for the police. They'll be here any minute."

She teetered back, nearly falling when he lifted his hand again.

"You want to tell the truth to me, honey pie. Or I'm going to spoil that pretty face of yours."

"It is the truth. We met Charles Rooney tonight. He called after you came to his office. He told us everything." Praying for time, she began to list the details. He believed her now; she could see it in his face. And what she saw there told her he could do worse, a great deal worse than slap her again.

"They'll find you here if you stay," she continued. "They'll find you and they'll put you in prison. The way they put my mother in prison. You could probably still get away. They might not catch you if you ran."

"They've got nothing on me. Nothing." He took her untouched brandy and drank it down. "It's all air.