Spikes pt I

I've tried looking at the color guide, but I still don't know what color Wrupert is. The breeder you bought him from says standard grey, but I think he's too brown. I'm thinking he might be a chocolate snow flake, but it is not certain. Of course, I needn't tell you what that means.
~ Fred

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The hopelessness of their situation overwhelmed her, and she groped for a chair, re-reading the short missive, her head swimming. If the breeder lied about that, he could have lied about anything! The elite lineage he claimed could be mere fantasies to take in a innocent buyer. With horror she recalled his words when talking about his rival.
  "A sucker born every minute"
She was that sucker!  There was no way to bring anything against him. She had no proof, nothing to back up any suspicions. It was her word against his, and he was a respected man. Then a plan started taking shape in her mind.  Maybe she couldn't prove that he had fleeced her, but if there was another sucker...
It wouldn't be to hard to find someone who could work with her. It was a fast growing industry, which promised fame, fortune, and wealth to the few that rose to the top. Anyone who could buy a couple animals for breeding soon was reeling with the prospects of rising to the top of the elite game. That was it. The next sucker being born would be hers.

The next day she went to O'Rourk's , the home of bookies, brawls, and multi-million dollar deals. The best of the best mingled with the amateur wanna be's, and the air buzzed with the latest scuttlebutt; who had bought out whom, who would be the animal of the season, and where the bucks were to be made. Bankrupt breeders smooth talked over-rich patrons into helping along the prospects of this or that animal, knowing, just knowing that he would be the one. Alone in a corner, she spied for the perfect chump. Preferably, it'd be some old retired millionaire, trying out a new hobby. Hobbyists were the perfect chumps. They had no clue what they were doing, but thought they knew everything about the sport. Ordering a Guinness from Sean, she sipped it scanning the usual crowd for someone new.

There appeared to be several prospects.  A rabbity looking man was cringing away from the snake like stare of Sam 'Spikes'. He was an expert trainer, and took badly to anyone taking his clients. Margo scratched the rabbit from the list.  Then there was the distinguished gentleman laughing over shots of scotch with W.J. Roberts. Roberts, known as Billy Joe Bob by his friends, was at the very top of the game. Rumor had it that he controlled most of the game himself, having most the local breeders- and some elsewhere- all working for him. Whether or not that was true, he did seem to hold a lot of sway over most the breeders, and Margo decided that it was more than likely that the gentleman was a buddy in the business from the south. There were some quality breeders down there.

Suddenly, she spotted her man. He was clean cut, and had a look that Margo would have labeled innocent, if not for the slinky blond leaning against him in an manner that left little doubt to the nature of the words she was whispering in his ear.  He looked like a fish that had gotten too big for his pond, and decided to make it in the real sea. Margo smirked to notice the sucker's eyes traveling and lingering on other women. Clearly the blond already had him hook, but not line and sinker.  

Time to for Margo to turn on her charms.

She caught his gaze, smiling slightly as she let her eyes graze his body up and down carelessly, before motioning him over. It was a look calculated to let him think he knew what she wanted, and that he could give it to her.
He smiled back at her, and she knew. A sucker was born.