One Last Bet

By GiAnna Moratelli

Everyone loves a good horse race, but no one likes a cheat. And when horse trainer Jack Hill ends up hanging from the rafters of a stall, Homicide Lieutenant Joe Novelli has a few suspects. Jill HIll, a wife that's been cheated on plus doing her own running around and Tommy Esposito, owner of a stakes winning horse that's lost a big race due to Hill fixing the race, top his list. It's fast paced murder and horse racing at it's best.

• Language: English
• Publisher: GiAnna Moratelli
• Release date: Sep 9, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301308361

GiAnna Moratelli

Born in El Paso, Texas, I grew up in Iowa and was lucky enough to have parents that that had money to travel, a truck and 45' fifth wheel, and liked to travel. I've been in almost all of the fifty states, from the east coast to the west and have visited small bits of Canada and Mexico. As a major in history, I've visited the battlefield of the Little Big Horn; on three different occasions, Gettysburg Battlefield, and the Battle of Athens (which most have never visited, it sits on the border of Iowa and Missouri). I've been to as big a places as the Smithsonian Institute and small places as the grave of Chief Wapello located in Agency, Iowa and The Grotto of the Redemption in northern Iowa, which is well worth anyone's time, especially if you like rocks and history. I grew up, as ole horsemen say, on the back of a horse. I started riding by myself when I was three and when I was sixteen I started working at the tracks of Standardbred racing barns during the summers when we weren't travelling. After graduating high school I bought a couple of race horse; a six month old dark bay filly named J.C's "Blitz" DeVane and a little later a yearling sorrel colt named "Breezy" Judge, which I trained and raced myself, only needing to acquire a fair license to do so, compared to those who had pari-mutual license. My horse racing came to an abrupt end a few years later with a barn fire, in which none of the 12 head of horses died, The horse I'm pictured with is Breezy, the best horse I ever owned (and I've owned a lot of horses of different breeds) and passed from this earth when he was 25 years old. I went to college, attended R.O.T.C.; went to Fort Knox, Kentucky for basic training and earned a B.A. in history. My interest lying mostly in American history. Other than the above, many other experiences in life, and living in different places, have given me good resources for my writing: 1. Staying with my grandparents on their farm when I was very young is where I learned to ride and gave me knowledge of farming, which I later helped a farmer near where I grew up. 2. I work for my father; who is a Certified Public Accountant, doing taxes and bookkeeping. I started working for him when I was in middle school, and after health problems in our family, have come back to help him as of 2019. 3. I managed my dad's used car lot in Fairfield, Iowa. 4. I drove a semi with a 52' trailer over the road for 13 years. 5. I worked real estate and did real estate appraisal as a second job to OTR. 6. I've done construction work (helping my dad and brother put up my dad's office building from the ground up, plus many other projects for my dad, many which included pouring concrete every Fourth of July for more years than I care to think about. 7. I worked for a local manufacture making cabinets 8. While in college I cleaned at a hotel to pay my way through the first two years. 9. After college, while driving OTR (after the RE job) I sub-taught for two years. 10. I worked security for four years. 11. I do know how to cook, make garden and can food. That's my life wrapped up in a peanut shell. I decided to write fiction under my pen name and non-fiction under my real name Linda Scott. Just a good idea I thought to keep the two of them seperate.

Book preview

One Last Bet

Lt. Joe Novelli, Homicide 3

By

GiAnna Moratelli

COPYRIGHT 2013 GiAnna Moratelli

SMASHWORDS EDITION

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Chapter One

The lifeless form of a female body hung limp. The struggling had ceased several seconds before and the rafters over head, from which the rope was slung, creaked under the weight. The lights that hung above the aisle between the rows of stalls were turned off and the window closed, making the person’s identification impossible.

* * * *

You’re pretty deep in thought. Planning your racing strategy?

Jack Hill blinked and rubbed his brown eyes, Yeah. Say Matt, he scratched his chin through a thick brown beard as he looked on the dirt floor of the horse barn then at a tack trunk. Hand me a brush out of there will ya? He leaned over the stall door, pointing to a grooming brush lying on top of the trunk.

You look pretty flush. Something bothering ya? Matt asked as he handed him the brush.

It’s nothing important, Jack said as he started brushing a tall, bay gelding.

Jack Hill! A deep, loud voice called out from down the aisle of the barn.

If it ain’t ass-hole Moranto, Jack mumbled.

Everyone turned their head looking at a large man as he strolled down the aisle of the barn except Jack, who continued to brush the gelding standing beside him.

Tommy Moranto carried himself with an air of confidence, like the barn was someplace he belonged, although he looked out of place in a grey suit.

Good mornin’, Tommy, a groom greeted, looking up from a bucket of water he was washing tack in. Topper gonna win today?

That’s the plan, Tommy said running his fingers down along his thick grey mustache. A large diamond horseshoe ring he wore sparkled in the florescent lights of the barn.

You racin’ the ole grey over at Hoosier next week? a trainer asked.

He’s drawn the third hole in the sixth race, Tommy answered.

Hell he’ll walk away with that one, the trainer said.

A few people stared in the direction that Tommy was walking, but most of them ignored him, turning their attention back to their work.

Jack frowned, assuming Tommy was still walking his way, he glanced out into the aisle of the barn confirming his assumption. That-son-of-a bitch, he grumbled lowly.

Stepping outside the stall, Jack tossed the brush over on top of the trunk then lit a cigarette. Picking up a sponge, he dipped it into a bucket of warm water and started wiping the sweat from the belly band of a set of harness hanging on a hook in front of the stall.

How’s your day going, Jack? Tommy asked.

All right. Yours?

It’s going all right.

So what brings you down here? Jack asked without looking at him. Seems to me I saw Chase with your horses further up the aisle.

Thought you and I ought to have a little talk.

About what? Jack asked as he tossed the sponge into the bucket of water. He looked up at Tommy, whose six-foot-four towered over his five-nine. You fired me two years ago, you’re not my boss. So what do you want?

What do I want! Tommy grabbed Jack’s shirt collar and pushed him against the side of the stall.

The cigarette fell from Jack’s mouth.

I’ll tell you what I want, you scum bag. I want you to stay the hell away from my horse out there. You screw my horse over in another race and you’re going to find out what it’s like to get screwed with. You got that! Tommy tightened his grip on Jack’s shirt collar. Everyone here knows you fixed that race up in Buffalo, just like they all know who you’re screwing. You know how horse people are. They like to spread a lot of rumors, right or wrong. You never know Hill, word might slip out around Sam that you’re having another affair on his daughter and you might be looking for work someplace far away from here. I’m sure you understand what I’m talking about?

I’m not messin’ around on Jill.

When haven’t you? Tommy let go of Jack, wiping his hands together as though wiping the dirt from them. I don’t know who you’re screwing, and I don’t give a damn. But Sam Kuntz does.

If you say anything that isn’t true, I’ll -.

You’ll what? I’m sure Sam wouldn’t mind seeing a division between you and his daughter, knowing how he feels about you. I mean look at you. Long hair went out with the hippies. You look like scum wiped from a top of piss pot, Tommy said as he straightened the cuffs of his shirt. He wiped his hand back across the top of his thick, grey hair, putting a loose strand back in place.

Topper’s the best horse in the field and I expect him to win here on his home track without any interference from you. Now that you know what’s at stake, Mr. Hill. I’m sure you’ll agree that it would be in everyone’s best interest if we have a fair race this afternoon.

Jack frowned as he stared into the harness he’d been cleaning.

Tommy stepped closer to him, smashing the cigarette into the dirt with the toe of his boot. You do anything. Anything at all, to screw over my horses and you can bet, there will be consequences like you’ve never imagined. Got it?

Jack frowned.

Turning, Tommy walked down the aisle of the barn. As he passed a wide door he looked at a driver wearing a red and gold satin shirt and white pants. Good luck, Hal!

Thanks, Tommy, Hal said as he pulled up the head of a black trotter and fastened the over-check. Don’t forget to give old Top his pep talk.

You can count on it. Tommy said watching as Hal drove the horse out the door. Continuing down the aisle of the barn, he stopped in front of a stall, looking in at a tall, steel grey, stallion that was harnessed, with a blanket tossed across his flank. Hey there, Topper. You gonna win today?

The horse moved over to the door as far as the rope that tied him, would allow. Tommy rubbed his sweaty forehead, under his long, thick, black forelock. You don’t need any pep talk from anyone do you boy? You’ll show’em who’s the best horse out there. It’s your day to shine Topper. He kissed the horse’s nose for good luck.

* * * *

Matt Moeller looked out the door of a stall he’d been waiting in. Seeing Tommy Moranto was at the other end of the barn, he ran his fingers through his light brown hair and stepped out of the stall. Everything all right, Jack?

Sure, Matt. Good ole Tommy just came down to wish us luck, that’s all.

Didn’t sound like it from where I was standing.

Yeah well, Jack took a cigarette from his pocket and lit it. He’s about to find out that Daisy’s going to be the best horse in the field this afternoon, not his precious Topper. He smiled as he looked at Matt, rubbing the young man’s head. You like to win don’t ya?

Yeah, but -.

You worry too much.

Jack, you better not be messing around with Moranto or you’re gonna get us both fired, Matt warned as he hung up a lead rope. Moranto was pissed when you pinned in Topper so he got beat. And you know Tommy and Sam are best friends. I had a hard enough time landing this job; I don’t need black balled by either one of them.

Don’t worry, you won’t. Jack took a drag on his cigarette.

I gotta work, Jack. I didn’t marry money like you did.

Hell, I didn’t marry money. I married a bitch. Besides, it ain’t gonna be our fault if that old grey gets pinned in. Jack smiled as he looked down the aisle in the direction of the Chase stable. You know what they say, don’t bet on a grey.

Jack!

Jack looked at the end of his cigarette. Who you working for anyway, me or Moranto? he asked and re-lit it.

Matt frowned, I work for Sam Kuntz and he likes fair races.

Fair hell. He likes to win just like everyone else. Jack noticed Matt’s dismay. Don’t worry. It’ll be a fair win. He looked around at the people that were looking at him. It’ll be fair, he said again in a lower tone. All you have to do is to take Daisy Lynn to the top. She’s drawn the pole position, she’s got the speed and the want to do it, so just let her do her thing.

Maybe she can get to the top faster, but you know she can’t beat Topper on the end. Hal said that grey can pace the last quarter in twenty seconds.

She can beat him with Madison beside him.

Jack!

You’re driving Daisy Lynn! Just shut up and drive her, Jack ordered as he picked up a can of pork grease. He chuckled at his own plan as he greased the harness hopples, so they wouldn’t burn the hair on the legs of the pacers.

Jack.

Matt, just let the damn mare race like I told ya. You don’t have to do a fuckin’ thing but sit in the seat. How damn hard can that be?

* * * *

The horse barn was bustling with activity as harnessed horses hitched to racing sulkies were going out to the track to warm up and others were coming in, the grooms unhitching them, sponging the sweat off and giving them a few swallows of water, before leading the horses to their stalls to be tied and blanketed.

Some of the drivers scanned over the racing program at the last minute; glancing at the names of the horses in their race. Drivers knew from weeks of racing with them on the circuit, which horse was probably going to win, unless it fell down or got penned in. Other drivers helped over-worked grooms, which had several head of horses to care for.

It was thirty minutes before post time when a short woman entered the barn.

Afternoon, Ms, Hill, a black man sitting on a bale of hay along one of the stalls greeted.

Cirrus, she greeted.

You’re gonna scare these hosses dressed in that bright yellow dress and hat.

She ignored him as she continued down the aisle.

Jill! Matt greeted loudly, glancing at the stall behind him. What brings you down here this close to post? You ought to be finding a good seat up in the stands.

I have plenty of time, Jill replied, brushing her black hair behind her shoulder. I came down to wish you and Jack good luck before the first race. Her bright blue eyes scanned the aisle. So where is he? I didn’t see him out on the track.

He’s in with Daisy, Matt said and stepped in front of her stopping her as she started toward the stall. Jill, you’re not going to bet on your own horse are you?

Jill smiled, Its bad luck to bet on your own horse, you know that. She tried to step around Matt, but he blocked her a second time.

Dress and heels, you’re not exactly dressed to be messing around a sweaty horse, and I’m sure Jack will be out any second.

Believe me, Matt. I’m not worried about being around a sweaty horse, you ought to know that. She stepped past him. Looking into the stall she gasped, Caroline! What the hell are you doing in there?

I was just giving your husband a little friendly advice, that’s all, a tall blonde stated stepping out of the stall. Caroline looked at Jack, who was looking at her over the stall door. You remember what I said, and I’m not kidding.

I’m not worried.

You ought to be.

I can handle it. Jack looked at his wife. See ya later, Caroline.

Jill glared at her husband, You’re not playing me for a fool again Jack! she screamed. I can’t believe you’re messing around with Uncle Tommy’s wife!

Jack looked at her and smiled.

Jill shook her head, What kind of a fool are you?

I must have been a damn dumb one to marry you.

You didn’t have too.

The smile faded from Jack’s lips. I was just kidding, Jill. It’s not what you think. Caroline just stopped by to talk. Nothing’s going on between me and her.

Sure there isn’t. There never is, is there?

Jill, he came out of the stall, I don’t even know her.

How many times have I heard that? You know when Bill Clinton said, ‘I’ve never had sex with that woman’? You must have written that line for him!

Jill.

What do you think Uncle Tommy’s going to say when he hears about this? She turned away from him and started down the aisle.

Whoa there miss fancy skirt, Jack said catching up with her and grabbing her arm. You have no idea what the hell you’re talking about.

I know what I seen! Jill snapped and pulled away from him.

"You didn’t see anything! Cause there wasn’t anything going on!

Jill frowned, tightening her jaw. I’m tired of this! And this time, Jack you’re going to pay! I’ll see to it, if it’s the last thing I ever do! Turning away from him, she stormed down the aisle.

The horsemen watching smiled and laughed at her as she stormed by.

Oh, she’s hot, Matt commented looking after Jill.

Jack shook his head, If she is, it’s the first time in a long time. Believe me you can’t pry her legs apart with a crow bar. Come on let’s go watch Sassy win this.

I figured you’d want her to lose.

Hell no, I got a hundred dollars on her.

You’re betting on one of Moranto’s horses?

Jack shrugged, She’s the best trotter out there.

Ruben’s horse is in that race you know.

She can beat her.

If she doesn’t get pinned in.

Jack frowned, Stay here if you want, I don’t care. He walked out the barn door and lit a cigarette.

Chapter Two

Jill stormed up to the steps of the grandstand to where Tommy and his wife Caroline were sitting, ready to watch the first race of the afternoon.

Tommy stood, Jill, nice to see you.

Uncle Tommy! Jill stammered looking at Caroline. She looked at Tommy. Tell that slut you’re married too, to stay away from my husband!

What are you -?

Ask your wife! She knows what I’m talking about!

She’s ludicrous, Caroline said. She doesn’t know what she’s talking about.

The hell I don’t! I caught you in that stall messing around with Jack not more than fifteen minutes ago!

I was -.

I know what I saw, Caroline! Jill yelled. You stay away from my husband and the men that work for the Kuntz stable, she warned, and turning she stomped down the steps.

Tommy looked after Jill then sat next to Caroline. You’re not fooling around with Jack Hill are you?

Caroline shook her head, Of course not.

Then what’s Jill so upset about?

I don’t know. I had to park in the far lot so I cut through the barns. On my way through, I stopped by too wish them luck, that’s all.

Jack Hill? You stopped by to wish that son-of-a-bitch good luck?

He’s going to need it, isn’t he?

Tommy frowned, How do you know Hill so well?

I don’t, Tommy. I just know him from around the barns, like you.

I know him too damn well.

It’s not a big deal.

Why were you late getting here? I told you what time they were racing.

I was trying to figure out what to wear.

It’s a dirty fairground. It’s not Hoosier, Maywood or Balmoral.

If Topper wins there’ll be pictures. I want to look my best, so I had to find something that goes with grey.

You mean when Topper wins. And he looks better with red then black. Besides, you’ve never stood in a winner’s circle picture in your life.

Well maybe it’s time I do.

You need to take an interest in something.

Thank you, dear. Caroline rolled her eyes. The horses are coming out for the first race. Don’t you have a horse in this race? she asked watching as the horses paraded past the grandstand.

Sassy’s racing, but I don’t think she can beat Ruben’s mare.

Never can tell what will happen in a horse race.

No you can’t. You certainly got that right.

Hal Chase’s red and gold colors stood out brightly behind the tall, black trotting mare.

I think she’s pretty, Caroline said.

Unfortunately it’s not a beauty contest, Tommy replied watching the horses as they turned and trotted back.

Reaching the back stretch of the mile track the horses trotted up behind the starting gate as it began to move forward. As they came around the curve, the starting gate accelerated to forty five miles per hour, pulling away from the trotting horses