I’m Fia McKee, and I work for the Thoroughbred Racing Protective Bureau. Right now, I’m undercover at New York’s Saratoga racetrack investigating horse trainer, Mars Pizutti. He’s suspected of dirty dealings, like filing fake workout times for his horses and using steroids and other performance-enhancing drugs. By pretending to be a hotwalker, the bottom rung of any racing stable, I’m virtually invisible and can get close to Pizutti. As I lead the hot-from-exercise horses endlessly around his barn, I can use my iPhone to record Pizutti’s conversations and snap photos of suspicious events.

Since my trouble in South Florida last winter, I’d been recovering at a desk job in the home office. When my boss first told me about this assignment, I knew I’d be back on the racing circuit and couldn’t afford to be recognized. I changed my name to Fay, let my super short, blond hair grow into a pixie-length style, and dyed it black. To transform myself further, I adopted a Goth look, wearing black eye makeup, a pair of skull stud-earrings, and various tee shirts decorated with death heads and coffins.

I was glad drop-dead sexy Cuban-American, Calixto Coyune, was also assigned to the job, until I was told we had to pretend we were lovers. It was, Calixto said, so we could work closely together without arousing Pizutti’s suspicion.

So, this is what happened this morning. When Calixto strode down the barn aisle wearing lizard boots, black jeans and a western shirt, he held a small box in his hand. When he passed Pizutti’s office, the trainer stepped out and stared after him.

“Hey Calixto,” Pizutti said, “nice boots, babe. Why you always gotta look like you walked off the cover of GQ?”

“I like to keep the fans happy.”

Pizutti grinned. “Yeah, well don’t go stealing my help, okay? We like Fay right where she is.”

“I’m not here to steal, her,” Calixto said, stopping next to me, “I’m here to win her love.”

I knew his words were nonsense, but they still jolted my heart.

Pizutti gave an eloquent shrug. “Yeah, whatever. Just let her do her job, okay?”

“No problema.” Calixto turned his back on Pizutti and handed me the box.

“You want me to open it now?” I asked.

“Yes, querida.”

“Aw, jeez,” Pizutti said, and went back into his office.

The box was wrapped in shiny black paper with a dark red ribbon. “You’re catching onto my Goth look,” I said, untying the bow.

“Wait until you see what is inside.”

“What you got there?” the groom Becky Joe asked, heading down the aisle toward us. She stopped about two feet away from me and watched as I tore the paper off and opened the box.

A necklace lay in sheets of black crepe paper. Black titanium bat wings were attached to a center medallion. The wings hung from a dark chain. A dazzling black stone was set into the medallion. I couldn’t quite grasp what I was looking at.

“Is that a diamond?” Becky Joe asked.

“No, of course not,” I said, “it’s–it’s a . . .”

Calixto leaned forward and withdrew the necklace from the box. “A black diamond, two karats.”

“Holy shit!” Becky Joe said.

If Becky Joe hadn’t been there, and if Pizutti hadn’t just materialized from his office again when he heard her exclamation, I would have said, “I can’t keep this!” Instead I said, “Wow.”

The piece was attractive in a kind of dreadful way. And the little gleam I saw in Calixto’s eye told me he was amused that my Goth act had resulted in me receiving an expensive piece of frightful jewelry.

“What are you thinking, Leona? You have an evil look in your eye.”

“You don’t want to know.”

He shrugged. “Then would you be so kind as to turn around?”

After a brief hesitation, I did, and Calixto fastened the clasp made of two titanium skeleton hands. When his warm fingers touched the lock of hair on the nape of my neck and brushed against my skin, my body responded. Traitor. I stepped away quickly.

“Fay, babe,” Pizutti called from his office doorway, “Sell the f**king diamond.”

Calixto glanced at the trainer, his face expressionless. “Pizutti, can you not display a little class?”

“Not as easily as you do that smarmy act. Man, you’re something.” He waved an annoyed hand at Calixto and disappeared into his office again.

“I’d sell that diamond in a New York minute,” Becky Joe said.

“I love it. I’m keeping it. Calixto, thank you.”

“Thank me later,” he said, and Becky Joe snorted.

“I need to talk to you about something,” I said to him.

Becky Joe made a rude noise. “I bet you do.”

I’d had enough of the comments and glared at her. “Could you excuse us for a minute?”

I grabbed Calixto’s arm and pulled him off the shedrow onto the grass. A jockey had died, another was being threatened. It was damn well time to talk about business.

You can read more about Fia in The Dark Side of Town, the second book in the “Fia McKee” mystery series. The first book in the series is Flamingo Road.

Undercover agent Fia McKee returns in another thrilling mystery set in the seamy underbelly of horse racing.

Fia McKee, now officially employed by the Thoroughbred Racing Protective Bureau (TPRB), is sent undercover to Saratoga Racetrack to investigate Mars Pizutti, a racehorse trainer whose horses’ wins are suspiciously lucky—and lucrative. Fia’s bosses believe Pizutti’s success is based on illegal drugs and deceitful methods, and they want Fia to work inside his barn to ferret out the truth.

But after witnessing the tragic and inexplicable suicide of a jockey, Fia discovers the rider’s death is only the tip on an iceberg involving the mob, a crooked racing hedge fund, and threats to the lives of another jockey and his young sister. Fia must find out who’s connected to who, and what shadowy forces are at play before someone else dies.

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About the author
Author Sasscer Hill was involved in horse racing as an amateur jockey and racehorse breeder for most of her life. She sets her novels against a background of big money, gambling, and horse racing, and her mystery and suspense thrillers have received multiple award nominations, including both Agatha and Macavity Best First Book Awards, as well as a nomination for the Dr. Tony Ryan Best in Racing Literature award. The Dark Side of Town won the Carrie McCray 2015 Competition for First Chapter of a Novel, as well as a 2015 Claymore Award nomination for best unpublished mystery-thriller. Visit Sasscer at sasscerhill.com.