"Lucky No More"

**Immediately follows "Dead Ringer"

"Horse sense is the thing a horse has

which keeps it from betting on people."

- W C Fields

CHAPTER 1

"Foley, what're ya doing? You know you're not supposed to be here." Security guard Lonnie Stark found one of Santa Maria Race Park's most loveable patrons sleeping off a drunk in one of the storage areas used for hay.

"Aw come on, Lonnie. I'm not hurting anything." The bleary-eyed gambler sat up and rubbed a hand over his unshaven face.

"I know you're not but if the wrong person sees you they're going to ban you." The sixty-ish guard looked at the man that was ten years his junior but looked at least seventy. "Tell you what: go sack out in the back of my truck. There's a topper on there. You know which one it is?"

"Yeah. Thanks, Lonnie. When my ship comes in I won't forget this."

Stark watched as the man shuffled outside before he turned and walked in the opposite direction to finish his rounds. Mumbling to himself he shook his head. "Waiting for his ship to come in…unh."

A few hours later, Colin Foley awoke in the back of the truck wondering for a moment where he was before remembering Stark's offer. Pulling a pint bottle out of his ever-present trench coat he raised the whiskey in a toast. "To Lonnie Stark – and Lady Luck." He took a swig of the fiery drink and after a moment of nausea, the whiskey began giving him a warm glow and he smiled as he exited the truck. Stretching and yawning, he took a deep breath, then coughed as he exhaled. Fumbling in the pockets of his coat he found a half-crumpled pack of cigarettes and pulled the last one out. He wadded up the pack and tossed it aside as he pulled out his lighter. He lit the cigarette and the four leaf clover on the lighter reflected the sun's rays. Closing the lighter he looked at it as memories of his past flashed through his mind. "Good days behind, better days ahead." That had become his favorite phrase over the past ten years or so. He turned and walked toward the track, slipping in over the fence running behind the barns housing the million dollar horses that fueled his dreams these days. Taking a shortcut through one of the structures, Colin heard a voice that he wasn't expecting and didn't want to hear. Looking around for a hiding place, he dove behind some bales of hay that were stacked in an empty stall.

"…And I told you to lay off for a while." The voice of one of the tracks stewards, Martin Sherwood, drew nearer to the hiding Foley.

"It's just this race today. I've got an investor breathing down my neck. If Palisades Pride wins today I'm in the clear." Foley now recognized the other participant in the conversation: Sal Beardsly. Beardsly owned several horses at the track but had been having a bad year. He had been forced to accept a couple of investors in his venture, both of whom were not pleased with the lack of wins of late.

"It's gonna cost you ten grand."

"What?! Last time it was seventy five hundred. What are you trying to pull here?"

Foley involuntarily jumped as Sherwood pushed Beardsly against a post right in front of his hiding place and held him there with a hand around his throat.

"What am I trying to pull?" The steward spoke through his teeth. "I can either pull the wool over someone's eyes or pull every one of your horses from the schedule. Which would you prefer?"

"Okay, okay…" Beardsly straightened his collar. "I'll have it for you in an hour…but you'll make sure, right?"

"I'll do it. Now get the hell away from me." Sherwood turned right out of the barn as Beardsly turned left.

When he was sure the coast was clear, Colin came out of hiding and pulled out his wallet; there was $500 in it. Putting the money away he smiled. "That ship is gonna dock in three hours." He turned and exited the barn and went to watch the workouts taking place on the track.

Ten minutes before post time Foley stepped up to the window. "Five hundred on Palisades Pride to win."

The clerk looked up and laughed. "Funny, Foley. I needed a good laugh. Move along." His expression changed when the track bum pulled out his wallet and put the cash down on the counter. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah." Colin pushed the money across and waited as the cashier first counted the money and then handed the ticket over.

"Good luck."

"Thanks." He put the ticket into his wallet and joined the rest of the crowd waiting for the race.

Five minutes after the horses had run, a smiling Colin Foley stepped up to the same window. "Congratulations, man. That was one heck of a win." The cashier shook his head as he handed the man his winnings. "How did you know?"

"I just keep my ear to the ground." Foley closed his wallet and drifted off through the crowd.

ONE WEEK LATER…

"Houston Investigations." Chris Chase answered the phone in the penthouse offices.

"Hi, Chris, it's Lee Jennings. Is Houston around there?"

"He sure is. Hang on a minute." The secretary put the detective on hold and walked to the doorway of CJ's office. "Lee Jennings is…oh!" She stopped in her tracks. There on the loveseat was her boss, Matt Houston, pinned underneath his wife. The two were heavily involved in a kiss when the secretary spoke and it was then that a blushing CJ left the loveseat and Matt sat up with a big smile on his face. Looking at his secretary he shrugged. "It IS a love seat." He stood and picked up the phone on his wife's desk. "Hey, Lee. What's going on?" He looked over at CJ, giving her the lopsided grin that she loved as Chris retreated to her own desk.

"I just got a call at Santa Maria. Seems some of the landscaping crew came across a body. Then I got a call from the chief. He wants you to come check it. Said he wanted it wrapped up ASAP."

"Uh huh. Where's the body exactly? That's a pretty big place."

"Meet me at Gate 7."

"See ya in a bit." He hung up the phone, leaning across the desk to capture CJ's lips in another kiss. "Going to Santa Maria to check out a body." Leaning closer he whispered in her ear. "And I plan on checking out a much livelier one tonight."

"Be careful."

"Yes, dear." He winked at her. "Love you, Babe."

"Love you, Cowboy." She watched as he headed toward the elevator, whistling one of his favorite songs.

Out at the track, Lee was parked just inside of Gate 7 and was leaning on the trunk of his car when Matt pulled up. Climbing up in the cab he motioned to the west. "Follow this on around to the north side of the track."

"Alright." Matt went on around, pausing as a line of horses left the stables and headed to the track. "I see the discovery of a body hasn't interfered with the schedule."

"Apparently not."

The PI continued on his way and a few minutes later he pulled up behind the patrol cars and parked. Two security vehicles from the track were present along with three LAPD patrol cars as the two detectives got out. An ME's assistant pulled up behind the truck, then a van from the Coroner's Office, and an SUV from the Crime Lab. Cheryl Crawford and Bob Wisnewski emerged and greetings were exchanged.

Matt pulled his notebook out as well as his pen and watched as Cheryl set up the 3-D scanner and proceeded to place the markers for the machine. After the scan was completed Bob moved in and took some shots with the camera.

"So who found him?" Matt looked over at the groundskeepers.

"That would be me." A guy in his early twenties raised his hand.

"What happened?"

"The boss said to rework the flowerbeds at Gates 7 and 8 today, so Julio and I came over to get a load." He indicated the compost pile where the body was lying. "I was running the Bob Cat and had already gotten a few buckets full when I noticed the smell." The man was looking slightly green. "Then I looked up and saw…that." He shook his head and gave a shudder.

"Where does the compost come from?" Lee watched as the ME's assistant attempted to roll the body over – which turned out badly. A collective groan went up from the group as the upper part of the body separated from the lower body and the liquefied interior popped like a water balloon, gushing onto the compost below. Three of the four members of the grounds crew turned and threw up – the fourth passed out.

Matt pulled a roll of mints out of his pocket and offered the rest to the members of the crew when they were once again standing upright. Julio, who had passed out, came to a few seconds later and was helped to his feet by the other three. "How about I talk to these guys?"

"Go for it." Jennings turned back to watch the ME.

Turning back to his truck, the PI waved the workers over to the back. "Drop the tailgate and have a seat, fellas." He opened the back passenger side door and opened up a cooler. "Y'all want a Fizzy Pop?" All four men nodded and Matt removed the drinks, handing them over and cracking open a sports drink for himself. Leaning against the hood of the SUV parked behind him, the PI looked at the four. "Got any idea who that might be?" All four shook their heads. "Have you seen anybody out of the ordinary hanging around?" Again the answer was negative. No one spoke for a minute. "Det. Jennings was asking about the compost."

"It's made here." Julio spoke up.

"From where the stalls are mucked out?"

"Yes sir."

"Who's in charge of it?"

"Our boss – Kenny Burgess."

"I'm kinda surprised he isn't out here. Got any idea where he is right now?"

"His wife is having surgery today at UCLA." The man who had found the body spoke up.

"And I didn't get your name."

"Cody Rolf."

Matt wrote down the men's information and gave each one of his cards, instructing them to call if they thought of anything else. "Hang tight for a minute." After speaking to Lee he told the guys they could go and went back up to join the others. "Got anything?"

Lee shook his head. "They found a wad of cash but no wallet and no ID."

"So it wasn't a robbery." Matt grimaced as the ME's assistant and the two men from the coroner's office carefully maneuvered what was left of the corpse into a body bag which was then placed inside another to prevent leakage. The ME's assistant stood and watched as they carried the remains to the van. All of the bystanders held their breath as the gurney rolled past.

The ME's assistant went to the back of his vehicle and removed the gloves and mask he had been wearing. Matt and Lee went to speak to him. "Doc? Don't believe we've met before – Lee Jennings."

"Raoul Jimenez." The two shook and Matt held out his hand and started to introduce himself but the doctor surprised him. "Mattlock Houston – you're a private investigator and consultant to the LAPD. You've also helped out the Harris County Sheriff's Department and Houston PD." He gave the shocked PI a smile. "My older brother Mike told me all about you."

"Small world, huh?" He shook the man's hand. "How's he doing?"

"Fine." The two saw the question on Lee's face and laughed before Houston explained that he had met Mike a couple of months earlier while helping out on a case in Texas.

"What do you think about our guy here?"

"I think that it's the biggest mess I've ever dealt with." Jimenez shook his head. "It's going to take a very careful and thorough exam to get cause of death on this one. I can't tell you squat yet."

"So no idea how long he might have been there?" Lee watched as the van containing the body pulled away and two others pulled in. "Damn."

"Nope." Jimenez closed up the SUV. "Call me later." He was already backing out as reporter Tamara Placer emerged from the news van in the lead.

As she straightened her blouse, the reporter made a beeline for Matt and Lee. "Mr. Houston? Det. Jennings?" She called after the two as the PI and the cop almost ran to get on the other side of the crime scene tape.

"Ya know it's bad that I would rather deal with the smell of decomp than talk to her." The PI and the cop exchanged a look.

"You're not alone. That woman can twist anything that's said so bad it's unreal." Lee looked down and studied the compost heap.

Squatting down, Matt looked at the area where the body had been. "We've got the tracks from the Bob Cat, but nothing else. And we don't have any idea how long he was here." Standing up once again, he popped his back causing the cop to cringe. He looked over to see the sound guy for Tamara Placer holding a huge microphone over the tape marking the perimeter as he and the reporter shared a set of headphones trying to make out what the two detectives were saying. Matt winked at Lee. "Guess we'll have to put out an APB on Bigfoot." The cops within earshot cracked up as did the two crime scene techs. Lowering his voice he spoke again. "Wanna go talk to security and see if their cameras picked up anything?" Lee nodded and the pair started for the truck.

"Detective, what can you tell us?" Placer was all over the pair as they made their way to the truck. The reporter from Channel 9 was now joining in the questions but his voice was drowned out by the blonde. As Matt closed the door of the truck and started the engine she was still yelling out questions. The PI shook his head as he turned the truck around and went toward the track offices located on the main concourse. He spoke with a security guard and was directed into a private parking area. Much to his relief, the reporters were not allowed to enter the area.

The two detectives were met inside by Darin Heard, head of track security and were led into the control room containing several banks of monitors. "How long do you keep your surveillance videos?
Lee watched as practically every aspect of the track flashed on the screens.

"Two weeks unless there is a request to keep an eye on something specific."

"Are there any cameras that pick up on the composting area?" Matt looked at Heard.

The security chief shook his head no. "Most of the cameras are focused on four things: the cashier windows, the count room, the stable areas, and the areas where our guests are located."

"Give us everything you have." Lee and Matt both looked disgusted.

"Mr. Heard, do you know of any disagreements that have occurred lately?" Houston went back to watching the monitors.

"There are always disagreements just like anywhere else that people, money, and alcohol mix."

"Any that stand out?"

"No."

"What about your employees: is everyone accounted for?"

"Yes sir."

When they received the security video the two left. "What do you think? Split it up?" Lee looked over at Matt.

"I guess so. Damn."

Lee followed Matt's gaze to his parked police vehicle. "Hell." The cop sighed. "I'm beginning to understand why the lieutenant has ulcers."

The PI stopped the truck next to Lee's car and the cop handed him part of the footage. "Good luck out there." He laughed as the cop snarled at him before exiting the truck. Matt hit the button to lock the doors as Tamara Placer attempted to open the door that Lee had just closed. "Close call." He dropped the truck into gear and looked at his watch, deciding to head home and go through the security footage in the den, not noticing the glare that the reporter was giving him as he drove away.