Jim and Larry pulled up again. This time Mim, in the backseat, hopped out. She hadn't seen Will and Linda. The men drove on.
"I want to watch the fourth race from here. I can't bear listening to Boom Boom tell me about spiced cream cheese on endive for another second! It's either endives or Lifeline." She twirled her wool cape behind her.
"This fence is too far away for most people to walk." Harry glanced down the rail. "Uh, but not too far for Greg Satterwaite. I see he's working the outside rail. I guess he'll be going to the outside barns next. God forbid he should miss anyone."
"Don't tell me," Mim exclaimed. "Has the good senator seen me?"
"Not yet. He's busy pumping hands and smiling big." Harry pulled a huge fake smile as demonstration.
Mim scurried behind one of the big trees. A telltale whiff of smoke would give her away should anyone be looking. Harry ignored Mim's cheating; she knew Mim wasn't supposed to smoke. Still, she wasn't going to tell Mim what to do or what not to do.
"Hi, there. How are you?" Satterwaite held out his hand, already swollen.
Harry suppressed an evil urge to squeeze it. "Morning, Senator."
"I surely hope I may count on your vote. This is a tough election for me."
"You can," Harry replied with little enthusiasm. She hated politics.
A jet of smoke shot upward from behind the tree.
"Thank you, thank you for your support." He smiled, capped teeth gleaming, then moved on to his next victim.
A few moments later Mim sneaked out from behind the tree. "Whew! Saved. When a politician knows you have money they'll talk until they're blue in the face. Save us from our government!"
"We're supposed to be a democracy. Save us from ourselves." Harry laughed, then noticed the cigarette still in Mim's fingers; it was burning down to a stub.
Mim stomped it into the ground. "Don't tell Jim."
"I won't." But she was surprised to see Mim gambling with her health after her bout with breast cancer.
Harry checked her program. "You've got Royal Danzig in this race. Congratulations on the first division of the Montpelier Cup, by the way. Ransom Mine took this fence with so much daylight he was flying."
"If he stays sound, he'll be one of the great ones, like Victorian Hill." Mim mentioned a wonderful horse, a star in the early '90s.
"Who was the greatest 'chaser you ever saw?"
Mim replied without hesitation. "Battleship, by Man-O'-War out of Quarantine, bred in 1927. To see that horse in Mrs. Scott's pale blue silks with the pink-and-silver cross was something I'll never forget. I was tiny then, but it made such an impression. This place was hopping because Mrs. Scott was in her prime. To have seen Battleship, that was heaven."
"What about Marylou Valiant's Zinger?" Harry remembered the leggy chestnut colt.
"If he hadn't injured his stifle, yes, I think he could have been very fine indeed." She looked up at the sky. "I hope she's up there watching today. People will say I hired Adelia and Charles out of affection. Granted that may have played some small part, but the truth is they're good . . . and getting better. And the difference in the stable since that dreadful couple is gone!" She crossed her arms over her chest. "You know it was a drip-drip like Chinese water torture after Marylou disappeared. The day I admitted to myself she must be dead was one of the darkest days of my life. And I promised to do what I could for her children."
"You more than kept your promise."
"The hard work was done. Marylou and Charley did that. When Chark went to Cornell and Addie to Foxcroft, I saw them at holidays and special school functions. What was hard was knowing when to be firm." She laughed at herself. "Now with Marilyn I never had trouble with that, but . . . well, their loss had been so profound. I sometimes wonder if I should have been tougher, especially with Addie."
Before Harry could say anything, they both heard the shot. Mim moved back. Harry trained her eyes on the roll of the land where she would first see the field.
Again that eerie rumble, and then the horses, packed tightly together, surged into view. Mim's purple silks were in the middle of the pack, a good place for this point in a race of just over two miles. Goggles over her eyes, Addie concentrated on the jump. Harry listened to the grunts and shouts of the jockeys as they cleared the brush, the whap-whap and whoosh as the hind hooves touched the greenery. And then they were gone, raging on, slipping into the dip of the land, and charging uphill again for the next fence.
Mim strained to hear the announcer call out positions. As they cleared Harry's jump, one horse in the rear of the pack took off too early and crashed through the jump, stumbling on the other side but recovering.
Harry watched the horse, which wasn't injured but was tiring badly. "Dammit, why doesn't he pull up?"
"Because it's Linda Forloines. She'll drive a horse to death."
"But I just saw Linda not twenty minutes ago."
"Zack Merchant's jockey got stepped on in the paddock as he was mounting up. Linda scurried right up to Zack, and of course he was desperate. The results speak for themselves."
The crowd noises followed the horses, an odd muffle of congregated voices, and then the field again appeared on the hill, Royal Danzig still safely in the middle.
Harry shook her head. "Linda's a piece of work."
"Precisely." Mim pursed her lips. She was not one to spread negative gossip, but she despised the Forloines to such a degree it took all her formidable discipline not to share her loathing with anyone who would listen.
"Zack Merchant's not exactly a prince among men either." Harry hated the way he treated horses, although to customers and new clients he put on a show of caring for the animals. Other horsemen knew his brutal methods, but as yet there was no way to address abuse inside the racing game. It was a little like telling a man he couldn't beat his wife. You might hate him for it. You might want to smash his face in, but somehow—you just couldn't until you caught him in the act.
The announcer's voice rose in frenzy. "Four lengths and pulling away, this race is all Royal Danzig, Royal Danzig, Royal Danzig, with Isotone crossing the finish line a distant second followed by Hercule and Vitamin Therapy."
"Congratulations!" Harry shook Mim's hand. Mim wasn't a woman designed for a spontaneous hug.
Mim carefully took the proffered hand. Her face flushed. She was wary against her own happiness. After all, the results weren't official yet. "Thank you." She blinked. "I'll find Chark and Addie. Quite a smart race she rode, staying with the pack until the stretch."
"You're having a sensational day." Harry smiled. "And it's not over yet."
"The official results of the Montpelier Cup, second division, are Royal Danzig, Isotone, and Hercule." The announcer's voice crinkled with metallic sound.
Mim relaxed. "Ah—" She couldn't think of anything to say.
"Congratulations, Mrs. Sanburne." Tucker panted with excitement.
Mim said, "Tucker wants something."
"No, I'm just happy for you," Tucker replied.
"Tucker."
"Why do you always tell me to be quiet when I'm being polite?" Tucker's ears swept back and forth.
"I'd better head up to the winner's circle. Oh, here comes my knight in shining armor."
Jim Sanburne rolled down in the Land Rover. "Come on, honeybunch."
"Well done, Mim The Magnificent!" Larry laughed.
"Hi, guys." Harry poked her head in the window. "Tell Fair to check on the horse Linda Forloines rode. He looks wrung out."
"Will do," Larry Johnson said as Jim kissed his wife, who was sliding into the front seat.