Taking Chances: Kayla's Chance

The only positive thing about returning to Kentucky was that Silver was happy to see me. She wasn’t happy when her mother disappeared a few days later.
“I’m sorry girl,” I said as the gray filly paced the fence, her sides beginning to darken with sweat.
“Well I mine-as-well take her home now.”
My nails cut into the wood of the fence I was sitting on. “I could have you arrested for trespassing,” I threatened.
“Not when I’m coming to get something that’s rightfully mine.”
I turned around. Becky was dressed in expensive riding breeches and tall boots with a polo opened to show off her cleavage to its best advantage.
“Nothing is rightfully yours,” I snarled. “Get off the property before I call the police.”
“Half of that filly is rightfully mine,” Becky said haughtily. “That colt you ride is on drugs which means he can’t race in The Juvenile.”
“He’s not on drugs,” I denied hotly.
“Oh really? Well maybe it’s not proven yet, but there’s no other way to explain his behavior. Even if he’s under suspicion, there’s a possibility that they won’t let him run.”
I jumped off the fence and stalked towards Becky, trying to keep my temper in check. She stepped back when I approached her, but that didn’t stop me from getting in her face, close enough to smell her sickening perfume.
“Look bitch, I know who’s behind the drugs they found at the track and who’s been telling all the reporters that Centerfold’s on drugs. And Mik has kept me quiet until now. But threatening my filly without reason is going too far. You’re not the only one with connections and by the time I’m through, your colt’s going to be the one under suspicion for drugs.” With that, I walked back to Silver’s paddock, pulling out my phone and dialing the number for a reporter I knew.

“I’ve given three interviews today,” Bo told me as I groomed Silver. His voice didn’t sound like I’d expected it to: drained, upset, agitated. It was almost…excited. I smiled.
“Do you have any more?”
He laughed. “I’m giving one over dinner tonight and I already have two scheduled for tomorrow.”
“You know Al Rosery’s going to be pissed.”
“Let him be pissed. If he wants to try to prove it wrong, all I need is a blood test to prove that I’m his son. Then the questions start on why he doesn’t claim me. Then when his own son starts accusing him of planting drugs….”
“Hold up Bo, you can’t go flying off the handle like that. The goal was to cast suspicion on his reputation.”
“Kay this is my big chance to get back at Al Rosery for all the hell he put me and my mother through-”
“I know, I know. But we’ll get him Bo. Right now we just need to set him up for a fall.”
“So I’m just the pawn.”
“Don’t put words in my mouth. Hell, this was your idea. I’m not the one getting carried away here.”
“This is just a race to you Kay. To me, it’s my whole life and my mother’s.”
“Just a race?! Bo we’ve had a horse die because of this. Stopwatch’s reputation is hanging in the balance. Who knows who else he’s ruined over the years? This isn’t just a damned race Bo. It’s your life, your Mom’s, Dingo’s, Silver’s, Centerfold’s, mine, hell it could be the whole racing industry!”
“Yet I’m the key.”
“You wanted to be the key. Don’t be putting all this on me.”
“I’ve got to go,” he said right before the line went dead.
In a moment of childlikeness, I stuck my tongue out at my phone. “Big baby,” I muttered, wishing I still had a flip phone so I could snap it closed. I’d broken more than one phone that way. Instead, I settled for angrily jabbing the end button even though the line was already dead.
I was still muttering random curses when Mik strolled into the barn. “Should I turn around and leave now?” he teased. “I know that face a little too well.”
I continued muttering, more because I couldn’t figure out how to put my problem into words. Maybe he was right; he was the key to bringing down Al Rosery. But I was right too: it wasn’t all about him.

The story broke the next day. Several local papers had been sniffing around Santa Anita and had the story splashed across the sports page, the Daily Racing Form had gotten wind of it, two big California papers had articles, even AOL and MSN had a feature.
“I hope you realize the can of worms you’ve opened,” Mik said as we cooled out the last of the morning’s horses.
“Hey it was Bo’s idea,” I defended myself.
“I’m going to have to call bullshit on that one,” he said. “Would you want to air your family’s dirty laundry all across the country?”
“Depending on the circumstances…”
“Not an answer.”
“Well if it’s a horse’s life-”
“Still not an answer.”
“Fine. No I wouldn’t.”
“There you go.”
“But it’s not like I forced him to do it. He did it to himself.”
“At your instance. For some reason I cannot fathom, the guy likes you and would do anything to help you, including dig up his family history to feed to the press.”
I hated losing arguments. “But…he was excited when I talked to him.”
“Justice is finally being served. Doesn’t mean he has to like it.”
“He was excited,” I spoke as if teaching a young child.
“Sure. He’s getting things off his chest.”
“By airing out his family’s dirty laundry.”
“Just apologize and get it over with.”
“Why the hell should I apologize when I did nothing wrong?”
“You’ll end up apologizing anyway. Mine-as-well just get it over with now.
I stuck my tongue out at him.