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“I know,” she said, her stomach tightening. “But if my hunch is right, there’s a fraud being perpetuated here at Verona. I can’t look the other way even if my own family is involved.”
“We should talk to someone at Capital Hills. What’s their name? The Brites?” Merrick asked.
Remi swallowed. Heat rushed to her face.
“Yes,” she said, her voice neutral. “The Capital farm has been in the Brite family for 150 years.”
“The parents are out since they’re probably in on this, whatever it is,” Merrick said. “And we can’t talk to the daughters. I banged two out of three of them and didn’t call after.”
“Wait. When did that happen?”
“What was that thing with the big hats you dragged me to in May?”
“The Kentucky Derby?”
“That.”
“You had a threesome with two of the Brite daughters at the Kentucky Derby?”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“This is why I can’t take you anywhere. Okay, so the sisters are out.”
“Two out of three are. Anyone else?” Merrick asked. “A trainer maybe? Maybe we can find a stable boy you can bat your tits and flash your eyelashes at.”
“I doubt a groom would know anything.”
“A higher up then? A secretary?”
Remi shifted uncomfortably as her parents smiled for the dozens of cameras in the winner’s circle. Even Shenanigans seemed to be smiling.
“Well…I guess we can talk to Julien Brite,” Remi said and a tiny tremor passed through her body as his name passed her lips.
“Which one’s Julien?”
“Julien is the son. He’s the youngest in the family.”
“Never heard of him,” Merrick said.
“He’s not in the business,” Remi said. “Not sure why. I don’t even know where he lives now.”
“You know him?”
“Sort of.”
Merrick narrowed his eyes at her.
“You sort of know him? Can you trust him?”
“He’s the only member of the Brite family who doesn’t hate me,” Remi said, hoping that was true.
“He sounds like our guy then. You want to find him and go talk to him about this stupid rivalry?”
“Oh, he already knows about the rivalry,” Remi said with a heavy sigh. “But yes, he’s probably the only one in the Brite family we can talk to.”
Remi stepped away from the rails and headed toward the clubhouse.
“You said Julien isn’t involved in the business. How do you know he knows all about the rivalry?” Merrick asked as the crowd ahead parted for them. The grandstand might not know who she and Merrick were, but the clubhouse crowd certainly did. Tyson Balt, the owner of Verona Downs, eyed her warily. The feeling was entirely mutual. And up in the boxes she saw Mr. and Mrs. Brite giving an interview to a reporter as a camera recorded their every word. She glanced up at them. They glared down at her with unmistakable abject loathing.
