Death By Derby 8 (Josiah Reynolds Mysteries) by Abigail Keam Read Free Book Online

Goetz’ bedroom. “You’re dating Josiah Reynolds?” he asked incredulously. “I always thought she was a fuddy-duddy.”
    “Many words come to my mind describing Josiah Reynolds but fuddy-duddy is not one of them. What are you . . . four?”
    “She always seemed so stuck-up and provincial.”
    “I think hostile is a better word. She thinks you tried to frame her daughter.”
    Minor didn’t reply. “Let’s change the area under discussion.”
    “Touchy subject?” sneered Goetz.
    Minor ignored Goetz’ remark. “What have you heard?”
    “I talked with my buddies who work at Churchill Downs and some of my gambling contacts. They say that a body wasn’t found in the wreckage.” Goetz watched Minor’s expression.
    “Do they give a reason why they say that?” asked Minor.
    “Uh, because a body wasn’t found. Not a foot or a hand or even a tooth. Nothing. Is it true? Nobody was in the gondola?” prodded Goetz.
    Minor poured himself a drink and stared out the window. “Anything else?”
    “No one saw Charlie at Churchill Downs on Derby Day and no one has seen him since.”
    Minor turned around. “He was seen getting in the balloon gondola at Bowman Field in Louisville. Spectators said the balloon took him straight up. So where did he disappear to between Bowman Field and Churchill Downs?”
    “That’s the sixty-four thousand dollar question,” replied Goetz.
    “No male of Charlie Hoskins’ age or description has shown up anywhere. It looks like this whole explosion was staged and Charlie took a powder. And if he took a powder—why?”
    “I have some thoughts on that.”
    “Which are?”
    “This is information that I got from Josiah via Shaneika Todd. Charlie Hoskins was only part owner of Persian Blue and with only a small stake. In reality, he was a front man for a very large syndicate that planned to make a fortune on breeding rights to Persian Blue.”
    “That’s taking a huge chance that Persian Blue would survive his races without getting injured. If hurt, the syndicate would have to refund stud fees to anyone who had already paid for breeding.”
    “According to Shaneika, Charlie had already paid the entry fees for the Preakness and Belmont, which is no chicken feed.”
    “So it was thought that Persian Blue had the stuff to be a Triple Crown winner,” commented Minor.
    “If he won just one of those races, his breeding fees would go up dramatically.”
    “If Charlie thought Persian Blue to be a contender, why would he jump ship?”
    “I always say ‘follow the money.’ See if Charlie withdrew large amounts of cash before disappearing,” advised Goetz.
    “Anything else?” requested Minor, looking out the window again.
    “Not at this time.”
    Minor turned toward Goetz. “If Jo Reynolds left the building, hasn’t she had time to get to the parking lot for her car?”
    “What’s that?” growled Goetz, hurrying to the window.
    Both men peered out, wondering where I was.

18
    O oops!
    They were on to me.
    I knocked on the door.
    There were muffled sounds of movement and then Goetz answered the door. His face was flushed.
    “Hi again,” he gushed, peering around me and glancing down the hallway.
    “I forgot my purse,” I said sweetly. I pushed by him and retrieved the purse that I had “accidentally” forgotten.
    Goetz rubbed his hand through his thick hair. “I didn’t even see it there.”
    “You ready?”
    “Ready?”
    “Ready to go to the doctor’s office now. You can walk me down.”
    Goetz glanced at his bedroom door. “Yeah. I need to leave or I’ll be late for my doctor’s appointment.” He reached for his coat.
    “Don’t forget your bills to mail,” I reminded.
    Goetz looked blank for a moment and then he remembered what he had told me. “Thanks,” he mumbled. He grabbed some papers off his desk and stuck them in his pocket.
    He then unceremoniously pushed me out the door, locking it behind him. “Come on. Let’s go or I’ll be late.”
    I