My blood ran cold. Too much of what? The vet barn would do a tox screen. And yet, what would show up? Vitamins, just as he said.
“I’ve got two more races to run and then there’s the big ones. I don’t want any more screw ups!”
Obviously not a good time, I ducked back into my own aisle. No more screw ups, indeed. I hoped Kel’s friend found something, because no matter what I felt about Dean or needing to drop him down a peg or two, horses suffered. I refused to allow that to happen. Even without my deity powers, to turn a blind eye to this would be obscene. Which made me wonder how so many at the track could do so.
Chapter 4
My nerves jumped between races three and four. I wished my godly powers extended to something amazing, like being able to see anywhere or look over the shed row with some kind of omniscient knowledge. I knew horses. They trusted me; I trusted them. I understood them, and usually luck rolled my way, though I didn’t doubt that Forti being my partner had something to do with it. I trusted Kel and I needed to believe in her skills.
Kudzu’s long legs had eaten the turf course and spit it out, putting him in first place easily. I sensed the growing looks, the “how did she do it?”, and even the whispers start as soon as the race had ended. A goddess training someone who belonged to the Fae Queen’s court’s horse. I’d hardly think we would lose. Funny how when the big guys at the top of the game won again and again, no one questioned it. Grumbled about their training methods, bashed them on online chat boards, sure. But no one accused them of cheating, at least no one except some armchair jockeys over at a racing website. I, however, heard it all the time. There was no way a lady could have that kind of luck with horses. No way a lady could win so big against some of the biggest names.
I accepted congratulations, expecting to hear at any moment of Kel’s capture in another trainer’s aisle. I walked with Iris into the saddling area, and then to the paddock, where I gave Gabrielle a leg up. She was on a streak today, one that went in my favor. I said a silent thanks to my partner, just in case she had anything to do with it. Then again, as Forti often said, luck arrived due to hard work and diligence, just as often as it was a whim of the gods.
I watched Iris during the post parade. She walked with long strides, easing into a trot, and then a canter at the jockey’s urging. Kel came alongside me at the rail.
“It’s done,” she whispered. “I’ve got the pictures on my phone. We can look at them tonight.”
The short trailer ride from the track back to our farm meant we’d be done unloading by eight or nine at the least. “We’ll look at it then. Thanks.” I focused on the gate as the bell rang. Iris broke well, narrowly avoiding a stumbling horse. She moved quickly to the group of three on the lead and kept her usual stalking pace. The horses jockeyed for position, moving and falling back as if in a finely-choreographed dance. Then, at the top of the stretch, Iris took the lead and ran off with it, crossing the finish line first.
“Stupid bitch won again.”
The muttered, gruff words caught me off guard. I turned to see one of Dean’s lead trainers standing too close on the rail. I narrowed my eyes at him, then turned and made my way toward the winner’s circle. I hoped he didn’t hear anything Kel had said, though pictures could be pictures of anything. Normally Dean’s guys remained close to him or close to those who worked for the trainers that Dean hung around with. I tried not to think about it as I stepped into the winner’s circle, standing next to Flora in her vibrant red dress. I congratulated Gabrielle, then the picture was snapped and the horse led off to the barns for drug testing.
I met Kel back at our barn. “Jim wants to talk to you.”
I frowned. Jim worked at the testing barn, and if he wanted to speak with me so soon after a race, then it wasn’t good. I gave some instructions to the grooms to start packing and making sure we were ready to load after the last race since the meet ended, then went to the drug testing area. I showed my ID and was allowed past the guard.
“Ettie. I’m glad you’re here.” Jim, an older man in his mid-forties, wearing a lab coat with his name badge prominently displayed, led me to a small room. He handed me a pile of paperwork. “I’m afraid your horse in the second race tested positive for a prohibited substance.”
“What?” I struggled not to shriek the words, but for any of my horses to test positive for drugs was ludicrous.
“We’d had a problem with a feed distributor. You don’t use this company, do you?” He pointed to a name, an all too familiar name, on the paperwork.
“I do. Damn. Do you think—?”
Jim nodded. “Since we know about the problem, I don’t believe there will be any sanctions. A change in placing is up to the stewards. It’s a known issue. They informed us as soon as it was discovered, along with a list of farms who may have bought the contaminated feed. No one believes that you did anything wrong. I wanted you to hear it from me, because it is going to show up.”
“I understand.”
“Good. We’ll need you to sign a few forms, just to say that I informed you and that you’ve taken remediating action. Which the supplier already let us know they did and future lots of the feed
