Cutter (Gail McCarthy Mystery series) by Laura Crum Read Free Book Online Page A

the bottles in front of him. Four-that would be every beer I had. Bret grinned, guessing what I was thinking. "I'll buy more," he reassured me.
    "I won't hold my breath."
    "Sure I will. Where've you been?"
    "Checking Casey Brooks' horses. A bunch of them colicked this morning. Three of them died."
    Bret whistled. "Whew. Three. What happened?"
    "We still don't know. Casey thinks they were poisoned."
    "Are you kidding?"
    "Nope. I've got no idea if he's right, or just paranoid. He got in a pretty bad wreck this afternoon, too, and he thinks someone cut his cinch." Briefly I filled Bret in on the day and finished up, "and he seems to believe some trainer named Will George did it all."
    Bret whistled again and shook his head. "Will George? That's hard to believe." "Do you know him?"
    "Not exactly. I know of him. Everybody in the cutting horse business knows Will George."
    Remembering that one of Bret's longer-running jobs had been a year spent working for a cutting horse trainer in Salinas, I asked him, "So how unlikely is this idea of Casey's?"
    "Pretty unlikely, I'd say. From what I know of Will George, that's not something he'd do. And why?"
    "Casey seemed to think Will was jealous of him. Afraid that Casey would beat him at some big event ... the West Coast Futurity, I think."
    Bret laughed. "Fat chance. Casey's never placed at the Futurity and Will's won it four out of the last eight times. Will doesn't need to worry about Casey."
    "Melissa seemed sure about that, too."
    "Melissa knows Will a lot better than I do." Bret grinned.
    "How's that?"
    "About the time I was working for Jay Holley, she was Will's girlfriend, not Casey's."
    "I kind of wondered. What she said was that she used to work for Will."
    "She did. She also used to sleep with him, if you can believe the rumors. It was pretty well accepted, though; she was Will's girlfriend of the year."
    "Girlfriend of the year?"
    "Sure. He tends to come up with a new one every spring, or he did." Bret flashed his grin at me again. "He's married, of course. Has been for thirty years. But it doesn't seem to get in his way any."
    "I wonder why his wife puts up with it."
    "I wouldn't know. But it sort of goes with the territory. Most trainers are that way; there's exceptions, of course."
    I nodded sagely. In my experience, Bret was right. Horse training, though usually ill paid, was in some senses a glamorous profession. Trainers were often surrounded by crowds of admiring young women, horse lovers all, each of whom would be honored to be the trainer's current fling. Not a role I'd relish, myself.
    "You know all these people, don't you?" I asked Bret, an idea dawning in my head.
    "Sort of. I used to haul Jay's horses to the shows. I pretty much know who all the big guns are or were. My gossip's a little out of date, though; it must be two years since I quit."
    "I know what you can do for me," I said slowly, with a meaningful look at the empty beer bottles and the sleeping bag unrolled on my couch, "in lieu of rent. Go to a cutting with me tomorrow."
    Bret looked wary, but not terribly resistant. "Where?" he asked cautiously.
    "In Los Borregos. Don't worry, I'll drive," I added, knowing that he was calculating the price of gas. "I'm not sure that truck of yours would make it over Pacheco Pass. I just want you to go along and tell me about the people and the cutting. Casey's showing a horse-a horse I rode this afternoon." I explained about Casey and Shiloh.
    When I was done, Bret shrugged one shoulder. "Okay I'll go point out the sights."
    I smiled. "You just bought yourself a week of free rent, buddy. After that, we'll see. And you still need to buy your own beer," I amended quickly, seeing the thought pass through his mind before he opened his mouth.
    He grinned and got up. "I better get to buying, then. Can't sit here all evening without beer. I'll be back," he added, as he walked toward the front door.
    That was debatable. Bret was more than likely to wind up at some bar or