Tacked to Death
February 5, 2008
Berkley Publishing Group
ISBN:0425219836
Read an excerpt
Cover art by Cathy Gendron
Cover design by Rita Frangie
A new tack shop and a gala polo match are reasons to celebrate for horse trainer Michaela Bancroft—until equestrian Sterling Tabor is found clubbed to death with a polo mallet. Worse yet, suspicion falls on Michaela...
The weapon belongs to Michaela, her prints are all over it, and rumors of her alleged affair with the victim aren’t helping. With her boyfriend Detective Jude Davis out of town, Michaela doesn’t stand a chance of proving her innocence and clearing her name unless she delves into Tabor’s mysterious life—and death—on her own. But in unearthing a real suspect and a motive, she discovers a deadly past. And Tabor’s shady friends are more than willing to throw Michaela off the track—for good.
Chapter One
The man standing across from Michaela Bancroft gave her the creeps. Sterling Taber was handsome by most women’s standards. He had that tall and dark thing going on with brooding brown almost black eyes, his cheek bones were something Michelangelo would have been proud to sculpt and his longish black hair hung slightly in front of his eyes. He’d been voted Coachella Valley’s most eligible bachelor and Michaela had heard the word mysterious used in regard to him. Her word was repulsive.
Sterling set the ropes on the glass topped case, which inside held equestrian related jewelry and various sets of spurs and silver belt buckles. Michaela and her friend Camden had recently delved into the venture of owning and running a tack store. Today was not only opening day, but with it Camden had convinced Michaela that a fashion show and charity polo match would not only make this an opening to remember but an event.
“So, isn’t it true that you rope?” Sterling asked.
“No. I rein. It’s different.” If he’d listened at all to her in the past few months, he would’ve known exactly what Michaela did. She’d spent plenty of time around Sterling as of late. He was one of the big-wigs on the polo team, and in less than an hour she’d be on the field playing in the charity event against him.
“I know that. You look pretty good up on one of those polo ponies. Good technique.” He fiddled with the ropes. “I like watching the ropers. Real cowboys, those guys.”
“Yes, they have great technique.” Michaela narrowed her eyes, wishing he’d buy the ropes and get on with it.
“You plan on continuing with the polo when this thing is over with today.”
She almost laughed at the thought. “No. It’s been fun and hopefully we raise a lot of money for the autistic riding center.”
He snapped his fingers and pointed at her. “Right. You run that place.”
She nodded. Again, if he’s taken his time to listen when they’d had meetings regarding today’s event he’d be on top of it, but she got the feeling that he knew all if anyone and enjoyed this head game she felt he was playing with her. She sighed.
“You sure do look good up there on those ponies.”
“Thanks. But no more polo for me after today. I can’t afford it and it’s pretty rough.” Granted Michaela had inherited a large sum of money and her uncle’s ranch when he was killed, but much of it was now tied up in the ranch, growing her center for kids who rode with autism and now in the tack shop that Camden promised she’d run since Michaela was already tied down with plenty of commitments. “Speaking of polo, we should probably hurry up. You want to buy these?” She wasn’t sure what Sterling needed a set of ropes for. He wasn’t exactly the rugged cowboy type.
Sterling leaned against the counter and folded his hands, a large diamond in a ring on his finger caught her eye. Pretty ostentatious. It was on his right hand, and for some reason it only annoyed Michaela even further that he was there. She didn’t like showoffs. He winked at her. “You bet. I’ve got some plans with these. You know that there are other things that ropes can be used for besides roping steers.” He winked at her.
She didn’t comment. She picked the ropes up off the counter and tried to scan the skew number. After three time of it not going through she felt her face flush. She didn’t want to look up because she knew Sterling was watching her.
Michaela heard raised voices coming from the back room where the office and kitchen were located. She recognized them immediately and knew she needed to put out a fire because the two arguing were not exactly the most amicable of personalities. She tossed Sterling the ropes. “Here take them. They’re yours.” She was done dealing with him.
As she started out from behind the counter she noticed a smug smile spread across his face. “See you on the field. I’m looking forward to it.”
She walked quickly past him feeling like she’d just seen a cockroach crawl across the floor.
Michaela found the cause of the commotion in the kitchen.
“Oh no, no, no! I don’t want spaghetti, Pepe. You can’t do this to me!” Camden tossed her copper colored tresses behind her shoulders and screamed at the rotund, older Italian man. He appeared to be matching her temper for temper with his arms crossed and a look on his face that said he didn't give one iota about Camden’s complaints. “You promised me that we would have veal scaloppini and chicken parmigiana. You said it wouldn’t be a problem. I could kill you for this! Do you know how many people are coming to this event? I can’t believe I already paid you up front!”
Michaela watched Camden's face contort into rage. Neither one of them needed this added stress. Next to Pepe Sorvino stood his daughter Lucia. Lucia was only about twenty-years-old. It was hard not to notice that Lucia turned heads when she entered a room with her pale green eyes and long wavy dark hair and voluptuous body. She was a young Sophia Loren in the making. She stood about Michaela’s height at 5’6” and Michaela could see by the fire in the young woman’s eyes that she was looking to explode along with her father. “You didn’t pay my father enough. Not for all these people.”
“Wait a minute,” Michaela interrupted. “What’s the problem?” They would need to get it solved sooner than later. Sorvino’s was catering the Saturday afternoon event and people would be arriving shortly expecting hors’ d ouvres and champagne to be passed around while they watched the polo match, and then have an catered lunch during the fashion show.
“The problem is,” Camden shouted, “these two are trying to rip us off.”
Lucia took an aggressive step toward Camden. “Whatever. I don’t think so. You’re a cheap ass.”
Camden pulled an arm back. Michaela grabbed it before she had a chance to swing.
"Did you see that?” Pepe said, his Italian accent growing thicker in line with his anger.
Michaela placed a hand on Camden’s shoulder. “Why don’t you go and take a breather? Let me work this out.”
Camden held up a finger, her face the color of her hair. Michaela shook her head at her, and then nodded her toward the front door. Camden glared at Pepe and his daughter, but heeded her advice and stepped outside. “Go see Dwayne,” Michaela suggested, knowing that her assistant trainer and Camden’s fiance was helping set up the tables for the lunch outside. If anyone could calm her down it would be him with his Hawaiian philosophy and mellow attitude.
“I can not work with a her. She’s crazy. You see how she yelling at me, and swearing at me, she saying she gonna kill me!” Pepe took his index finger and made the loopy sign around and around next to his head. “Crazy!” he spat.
Michaela took a step back. “Listen, Pepe, I agree that my friend can be a bit temperamental.”
“A bit temperamental?” Lucia said. “She’s a bitch. We’re not doing this thing, and we’re keeping your deposit money.”
“Wait a minute,” Michaela said.
“What’s going on?” Mario Sorvino, Pepe’s son walked in with a box full of tomatoes. He looked from each one of the three to the next. “Oh great. My sister and pops giving you a hard time?” he asked.
Michaela mustered a smile. Could it be there was a levelheaded individual besides herself amongst this clan? Mario set the box down on the counter and put an arm around Lucia who he towered over. He was definitely one of the tallest Italian guys Michaela had ever seen—long but muscular, his dark hair slicked back into a ponytail and an apron covered his barrel chest. “Bella, run along and be a good kid. Leave Michaela alone. We’ll work this out.”
Lucia opened her mouth to say something, but Mario cut her off. “Go. There’s tables to be set.” She stood her ground a second longer. “Now!”
Pepe watched as his daughter sulked away. Mario looked at his dad and shook his head. “Papa she doesn’t need to be trying to run things. She’s a stupid kid, and you give her too much freedom. Now what’s the issue?”
Pepe frowned at his son but didn’t retort. Michaela found it interesting that it appeared as if Mario Sorvino pulled the strings in the family.
“That other lady that Camden, she’s a hothead and she doesn’t want to pay what they owe us.” He pointed at Michaela. “We gonna make spaghetti and that’s it.”
“Yes, well, you see we do have a contract with you and your father,” she directed her reply to Mario, “Did agree to make chicken parmigiana and veal along with spaghetti, so I’m confused as to why the mix-up.”
He crossed his arms. “You not pay me enough that’s the mix-up.”
“No. That’s not true. We paid you exactly the amount you quoted us.” He was beginning to try her patience. No wonder Camden had lost it on him! Everyone knew Pepe had the tendency to be cheap.
“It’s a not enough.”
Mario held up a hand. “Okay, dad, if there’s a contract and you didn’t estimate properly it’s not this lady’s problem.”
She sighed. “No, it’s not our fault if you miscalculated the price.”
“Not gonna do it.”
She now turned toward Pepe. “I don’t have time for this. I have to be on a horse in thirty minutes, swinging a mallet in front of a hundred or so people, who afterwards expect to have a gourmet Italian meal, and then watch a fashion show. I know that you would not want those influential people to walk away hungry, thinking poorly of Sorvino’s, now would you? These are well-to-do folks out there.” She rubbed her finger and thumb together. “Cha ching. Capiche? I’m certain that a man with your business sense and your talent will want to impress the people and have them come back to dine at your divine restaurant.” Yeah, so she was pouring it on, but she could tell she was getting to him as the downturn at the corners of his lips started to relax. If his son couldn’t convince him, she’d give it her all. “I mean, after all, you do make the best veal I have ever had. Really.” She leaned in closer. “And, I heard that a food critic from the L.A. Times may join us today. Oh, and I believe my friend Joe Pellegrino and some of his cousins might be around too.” She knew it was not very nice of her to mention her pal Joe. Joe had been a friend of hers since childhood and he owned the local hardware store. It was rumored he had some unsavory family ties. Michaela was only aware that he had a lot of cousins who, along with Joe, had saved her butt more than a couple of times.
Mario gave her a dirty look at the mention of Joe. “You’ll get your veal and chicken. The Sorvinos don’t go back on their word. Right, Papa?” he said it so that his father didn’t have much of a choice but to agree, however, Michaela got the distinct feeling that tossing out Joe’s name helped.
“Hmph. Capiche.”
Pepe stormed out of the kitchen. “Sorry about that. My family can be overbearing sometimes. I’ll make sure they stay in line for the rest of the day,” Mario said, taking a tomato from the box he’d brought in.
“Thank you.” She started to walk out.
“Michaela?”
She stopped. “Yes?”
“One thing about my family though is threats, subtle or not don’t usually set well with us.”
“What?”
“I don’t miss much, in case you hadn’t noticed.” He smiled. “Mentioning Joe Pellegrino was unnecessary. I know why you did it, but I didn’t like it.”
“I’m sorry.”
“We’re even then. You’ll get your food and you now understand how I operate.” He picked up a sharp knife and sliced through the tomato.
Michaela walked away unsettled, with the definite decision to never again hire the Sorvino’s for a damn thing.
It's in the Stable
For the third installment of my horse lover’s mystery series I decided it would be fun and interesting to incorporate the world of polo. Polo is one of those sports that I think has all the elements to make a fascinating back drop for a mystery—excitement, wealth, a bit of scandal, romance and to me, it’s just plain fun.
The key was to figure out how to get my heroine Michaela Bancroft involved in the world of polo when she trains reining horses, which is a fairly different world from one another. There are all sorts of niches within the equestrian world. Just like different wines, everyone has their own “flavor.”
To get Michaela on the polo field, I knew I needed to somehow tie it in with her best pal Camden who loves the glamorous life. I developed the idea of charity polo match. On top of that I though it would be interesting to see how well Michaela and Camden could run a business together and still maintain their friendship by opening up a tack shop. Throw in a murder or two and things start moving at a rapid clip in this book.
One of the best parts for me in writing a book has to be doing the research. I really enjoy learning, and that’s what research does for me—teaches. So, for Tacked to Death, I set out early one Saturday morning for the opportunity to take a free polo lesson up at the polo grounds in Del Mar. My two youngest kids decided to join me because they were also offered a lesson. I’ve been riding since I was five-years-old and as a kid showed both English and western. As an adult I started jumping, so I figured, how hard could this be? What? I get on the horse, we swing the mallet, hit the ball and there you have it. Yeah, right. Not exactly.
First my daughter got on her polo pony (Joker) and with six or so other little ones rode around the ring, at a walk, occasionally making contact with the ball. Side-note: A polo isn’t technically a pony, but actually a full sized horse. My daughter loved her time on the horse and even hit the ball a few times. Then, my son got on and I couldn’t believe my eyes. This is a kid who has only ridden a handful of times, but he looked like a pro up there. I don’t know if he was in some Harry Potter fantasy land pretending he was playing a game of quidditch, but when he got off his horse he had a smile from ear to ear and announced, “I want to do that!” I thought, oh great. I better hit the bestseller list a few hundred times or so. The kid would have to fall in love with the most expensive sport in the world. Needless to say, he is not yet taking polo lessons.
Then, it was my turn. Got up on the horse, did a little warm-up—no problem. But then the trainer handed me a mallet. He explained the various shots I could take from the off side forehand, nearside forehand, offside back hand, belly shot, nearside backhand, etc. Just remembering how to take the shots was complicated enough. Doing it at a canter is another story altogether. The mallet weighs about a half a pound but when you have that thing swinging this way and that, it’s not light. I used muscles I didn’t know I had! I had to avoid other the other horses and riders, while at the same time charging the ball. Frankly I didn’t do much charging or even defending. I planned to keep my brain inside my skull and everything else on my body intact. It was pretty thrilling though, and I can definitely see how a rider can get the adrenaline rush going. The ponies get it too, and when rider and horse work as a team, it’s phenomenal.
All in all I have to say that I had a great time, but I’ve decided to stick with a little English pleasure here and there and the occasional jump. These days, I’m comfortable to be a backyard horsewoman. I was happy that I stayed on my horse and I even hit the ball, although I think my seven-year-old hit it more than I did. I enjoyed the lesson and I really enjoyed researching the exciting game of polo. If you want to learn more about how the game is played and what it entails, pick up a copy of Tacked to Death. A great website to visit to learn more about the game is www.sportpolo.com.
Happy Trails!
Michele
