Hugger Mugger

SEVEN

I WAS IN the Three Fillies stable yard looking at Hugger Mugger. Security South had a guy with a gleaming pistol belt posted in front of the stall and another one in the stable office making sure of the coffee. Hugger Mugger hung his head out of the stall and looked hopefully at Penny in case she might have a carrot. He had very large brown eyes and looked deeply intelligent.

"They're not terribly smart," Penny said. "They seem to have a lot of certain kinds of awareness people don't have. They are very skittish and can be spooked by dogs, or birds, or sudden noise."

Hugger Mugger nosed her upper arm, his ears back slightly and his profound brown eyes gazing at her. Along the stable row other horses looked out over the open doors of their stalls, turning their heads to peer down at us. The horses were restrained only by a belt across the open door. It was not unlike the velvet rope that closes off a dining room.

"Does he know you?" I said.

"He knows I sometimes carry carrots," Penny said. "Mostly they like other horses."

"They ever get to gallop around in the field with all the other horses?"

"God no," Penny said. "You pay two million dollars for a horse that might be the next Citation, you can't let him hang around with other horses, one of which might kick his ribs in."

I patted Hugger Mugger's forehead. He turned the carrot-questioning look on me.

"Nice horsie," I said.

"Aficionados of the sport of kings," Penny said, "don't usually say things like 'nice horsie.' "

I frowned and looked hard at Hugger Mugger. In a deep voice I said, "Good withers."

Penny laughed. "Do you even know what withers are?" she said.

"No," I said.

"You talk with Billy?" she said.

"I will."

"You'll like him."

"I never met a man I didn't like," I said.

Penny gave me an Oh please look. "He loves this horse," she said.

"Because he's going to win the Triple Crown?" I said.

"No. That's why all the rest of us love him. I think Billy just loves him."

"Even if he doesn't win the Triple Crown?"

"Even if he never wins a race."

"Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds," I said.

"Is that some kind of poem?" Penny said.

"I think so."

"You don't look like a poem kind of man," she said.

"It's a disguise," I said.

Jon Delroy came briskly toward us across the stable yard.

"I got a message you wanted to see me," he said to Penny.

"Yes, Jon," she said. "Let's the three of us go over to the office."

Delroy looked at me as if I were something he'd just stepped in. And turned to walk with Penny. I tagged along. We went into the track office and sat down. Penny sat behind the desk in a swivel chair. Delroy and I sat in straight chairs against the wall. There was a coffeemaker on a table near the desk, and a small refrigerator on the wall behind the desk. There were photographs of happy owners with happy jockeys and happy horses in various winner's circles.

"Jon, you've lodged a complaint with Three Fillies Stables," Penny said. "About Mr. Spenser."

She sat back in the swivel chair, her feet in riding boots crossed on the desk. Her voice was friendly, with the nice southern lilt.

"I've talked with your father, yes," Delroy said.

"And my father has asked me to talk with both of you," she said.

I waited. Delroy was looking hard at her, sitting bolt upright in his chair.

"As CEO of, and majority stockholder in, Three Fillies Stables, my father feels that employment decisions are his to make if he wishes to."

"Well, of course, Penny, but…"

"Don't interrupt," Penny said. No lilt. "We have hired Spenser to find out who is trying to harm Hugger Mugger. We have hired you to protect Hugger Mugger while he does so. There is no reason for either of you to get in the other's way."

I smiled cooperatively. Delroy looked as if he had just eaten a pinecone.

"Is that clear?" Penny said.

"Yes, ma'am," I said.

Delroy didn't speak.

"Is that clear, Jon?"

Delroy still didn't speak.

"Because if it is not clear, you may finish out the week and then be on your way."

"Penny, we signed a contract."

"Sue us. This is my way or the highway, Jon. And you decide right now."

"Be easier to put up with me," I said to Delroy.

Penny sat with her feet still up on the desk. Her big pretty eyes showed nothing. She wore a white shirt, with the collar open, a gold chain showing. Her pale blue jeans were tight and tucked into the top of her riding boots. Her neck was slender but strong-looking. Her thighs were firm.

"Yes or no," she said.

"Yes," Delroy said.

The words came out very thin, as if it'd had to slip between clenched teeth.

"You'll cooperate with Spenser?"

"Yes."

"You have any problems with Jon?" Penny said to me.

"Not me," I said. "Your way or the doorway."

Penny took her feet off the desktop and let the chair come forward and smiled.

"Excellent," she said. "Either of you want a Coca-Cola?"