“We don’t go anywhere near that.” I waved him off. “Besides it’s just full of antique farm equipment and machinery. There’s nothing to worry about.”
He frowned, then finally stepped aside to let me pass. “I should probably tell Dad about this.”
“I’ll keep making your bed for you,” I crooned, batting my eyelashes at him.
He grinned. He couldn’t help it, I was so charming.
“Just be careful over there,” he said. “And ...”
I sighed. Would his nagging ever end?
“... if anything weird happens, and I mean anything, come straight home.”
“Oh, Roy, relax. Nothing’s going to happen,” I said, as I pushed past him and wheeled down the driveway. “And the only weird thing around here is you!”
“I mean it, Sarah. Come home if anything is weird!” he yelled.
“Eat my dust, Roy!” I yelled back. Jeeesh! And people say I’m nosy.
Mindi was pacing on the porch when I biked down the long driveway to the farmhouse. She ran down the stairs to greet me. I barely set my feet on the ground when she grabbed my arm.
“Quick, Sarah,“ she urged. “Let’s go straight to the stable. I have to talk to you.”
Caught up in her excitement, I dropped my bike and ran with her to the stable. Once there, Mindi shut the large doors behind us. I turned to her eagerly.
“I’m so glad you’re here, Sarah. I really need to talk to someone about this,” she said, grabbing my arm once again.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“I think Colin’s into something weird,” she burst out. “Illegal, I mean.”
“Really?” I asked, swallowing hard at her use of the word weird. Roy’s parting words started to echo in my head. “What makes you think that?”
Mindi’s eyes darted nervously around the stable as if worried about the horses overhearing.
“I got off the bus and came into the house, as usual. Mom was painting in the back room, so I didn’t bug her. I headed to the den to let Colin know I was here. He was on the phone, so I was about to go out to the stable when I overheard what he was saying. It seemed kind of weird, so I stayed at the door and listened.”
“What was he saying?” I asked, wincing when she said the word weird again. Roy was having a fit in my head.
“He said something about his products being one hundred percent genuine articles and how you wouldn’t find better quality anywhere else in Ontario. He said that he didn’t want to talk anymore on his home phone, and that if they wanted to do business with him, they had to come see him in person. He set up a time to meet them at five o’clock today. Then he turned around and saw me in the hallway. You should have seen the look on his face. He was so mad! He slammed the door right in my face.”
“Whoa.”
“Don’t you think that’s weird?”
“Very,” I nodded, wishing she would stop saying that word.
“He’s never gotten angry with me like that before. He actually slammed the door right in my face. Why would he do that? Why would some old farm equipment in an old barn make him so crazy? Is that what’s really in there?” She chewed her thumbnail, looking at me, waiting for answers, I guess. I didn’t have any. As far as I was concerned, this confirmed what I already suspected. There was something fishy about Mr. Braemarie and that barn!
“I want to know what’s really in that barn,” Mindi announced, as if reading my thoughts. “I want to know what he meant by one hundred percent genuine articles. Whoever Colin was talking to on the phone is coming here at five o’clock and I’m going to be out at that barn to hear what they have to say.”
So that’s how it came about. You see? I didn’t go over to the farmhouse looking for trouble, but, as usual, trouble found me. I really had no choice; I had to help my new friend. I couldn’t abandon her during her moment of need. If I didn’t go to the barn with her, she’d have gone by herself, and what kind of person would abandon a friend like that? Right?
Once Mindi knew we were in this together, she ordered us to work. We broke into a frenzy of activity. The stalls had to be quickly mucked out before we could tack up the horses for our spy mission. Mindi had a plan. By the time I finished Ginger’s stall, Mindi had cleaned both Thunder’s and Candy’s stalls and was leading Candy in from the field.
I was just bringing Ginger in from the field, and Mindi was putting a saddle on Candy, when Mr. Braemarie stepped into the stable. His huge frame filled the doorway. He didn’t look happy.
“You’re supposed to clean stalls before tacking up horses,” he said, gruffly.
“We’re done cleaning stalls,” Mindi clipped, without interrupting her flow of adjusting and buckling the saddle strap. “I’m giving Sarah another lesson. If she does as well as last time, we’re going to do a trail ride.”
Mr. Braemarie cleared his throat and shuffled from foot to foot, watching Mindi work. Finally he said in a gentler tone of voice, “Can I talk to you outside for a minute?”
Mindi shrugged and stepped outside behind him. I thought again of Roy’s warning that if anything weird happened, I should come straight home, and I actually considered doing just that as I stood waiting. Then, tired of just dumbly standing there, I grabbed Ginger’s bridle off the peg in the tack room and tried my darndest to put the bit into her mouth the way Mindi had showed me. I was covered in horse slobber and still struggling when Mindi and Mr. Braemarie came back. Mindi had a triumphant grin on her face, while Mr. Braemarie looked like he’d just been pinched — hard.
“Don’t worry, Colin,” Mindi was saying, “Sarah and I will either be here or on the trail. We won’t interfere with your visitors.”
“Humph,” he grunted, while he wordlessly took the bridle from me and easily slipped the bit into Ginger’s mouth.
Out in the fenced field, Mindi, true to her word, gave me my second lesson. I learned how to position my feet properly in the stirrups, with my heels down, and how to do a rising trot. There’s a lot more to riding than meets the eye. I had no idea. I thought you just climbed up and held on. Then, with a glance at her watch, Mindi announced that I was ready to hit the trail.
“Ginger knows it really well. She’ll just follow Candy so all you really have to do is sit there,” Mindi explained.
This made me feel better, because I have to admit, I was more than a little nervous about leaving the fenced field. I had visions of my horse bolting, galloping to who knew where, with me holding on for dear life — or worse, flying off and landing in a broken heap.
Of course, I wasn’t about to tell Mindi that. She didn’t seem to be afraid of anything when it came to horses.
We walked along the trail in silence for a while. Mindi was right, Ginger did just follow Candy. I started to relax and enjoy the ride. I was actually getting used to sitting on a horse and so was rather impressed with myself. I’d never get a chance to do this if I still lived in Mississauga. Maybe country living wasn’t so bad after all. Except there aren’t any decent malls, of course.
“Colin wanted Mom and me to go home,” Mindi said, breaking the silence. “We went back to the house, that’s what took us so long. But I talked him into letting us stay, since I already had Candy all ready and the stalls all cleaned.” She chuckled without humour. “I think Colin was afraid I was going to say something to my mom about how he slammed the door in my face. You should have heard him apologizing when we were walking back to the house ...” she shook her head. “Whatever. Anyway, it took a bit of convincing but I finally got him to let us stay and ride — provided we don’t leave this trail or the stable while his ‘guests’ are here. It helped that Mom was right into a creative idea and it’s hard to stop her from painting when she’s like that.”
She turned to me, and her brown eyes glinted in the late afternoon sun that streamed through the trees.
“We’re not going to stay on this trail, are we?” I asked.
“Nope.”
“Are you sure about t
his?”
“Yes.” Her face was set. “I have to know what he’s up to with these so-called guests in that stupid barn.
What’s making him so uptight? He slammed a door in my face!” She stared at me, daring me to argue with her. I didn’t.
I’d like to be able to tell you, Dad, that I tried harder to talk Mindi out of this little spy expedition, really I would. But that wouldn’t be honest. The truth is, I was every bit as curious as she was about the mysterious barn and Mr. Braemarie’s guests. I was thrilled to be in the middle of this adventure with her.
Apparently, the trail was one big loop through the bush, so once we were in there far enough to be well hidden, we slid off the horses, tied them to a couple of trees with the lead lines Mindi had brought, and cut through the woods to come up alongside the old barn. We hunkered down behind a couple of thick old trees and peeked out. Even this close, the barn looked completely harmless. The best word to describe its appearance was dilapidated (I had to use that word in a sentence in English class the other day). It was basically a large box with a rough gray barn board exterior that had seen much better days. The roof was a dull brownish red. Small dirty windows were placed high, near the roof. The door was kept shut by a large metal padlock.
Mindi glanced at her watch. “It’s 4:56,” she whispered. “They should be here any minute.”
Right on cue, Mr. Braemarie came marching briskly along the long, dirt driveway leading up to the barn, motioning a black car forward. It looked like the same one that I’d seen there a couple of weeks before. I just about leaned towards Mindi to tell her so but stopped myself in time. She had no idea that I had already sat in almost this exact spot and spied on the goings-on at this barn. The car pulled ahead and parked. Mr. Braemarie jogged up to it, casting glances all around. I prayed the trees were hiding us well enough.
Three men stepped out of the car. Again, they were dressed in dark suits; I vaguely wondered if there was a dress code at the old forbidden barn. I recognized two of them. The drill sergeant and the laughing man. The third man, who I hadn’t seen before, was tall and lanky. His face had a pebbly look and he moved around restlessly as he stood. Mr. Braemarie spoke to the laughing man.
“Welcome, once again, Mr. Gorely,” he said, shaking his hand. Gorely’s heavy rings caught the light of the lowering sun and flashed as their hands shook.
“Mr. Braemarie,” nodded Gorely. “You remember Mr. Cheng ...” he indicated the drill sergeant with a wave of his hand, “... and this is Mr. Morchan.” Hands were shaken all around.
“So, you’ve been here a few times now,” said Mr. Braemarie to Gorely. “I take it that you’re definitely interested in my little operation.”
“I’ve spoken with my people and, yes, we are very interested in your proposal for business. There are many restaurants and pharmaceutical companies that are willing to pay excellent money for what you have. In fact, we have one influential client in particular who is most interested in buying your products. But first, my colleague ...” he nodded towards the fidgety, pebbly-faced man “... wanted to have a look at the product himself so that we can assure our customer, with full confidence, that the quality is exceptional.”
Gorely’s voice had a steel edge to it that made me shiver, in spite of his smiling face.
“Of course,” said Mr. Braemarie. “I’m sure you’ll be satisfied, Mr. Morchan. I’ll give you a tour, then we’ll discuss the terms of purchase.” Morchan nodded briskly, while his eyes darted around restlessly at the three men.
Mr. Braemarie pulled a key out of his pocket and unlocked the padlock securing the barn door. He pushed it open, hung the padlock on the unbolted metal loop, then, addressing all three men, he said, “If you gentlemen would please follow me.” They all stepped inside and the door swung shut behind them.
I was speechless. Mesmerized. Those men definitely didn’t seem to be the type to be interested in antique farming equipment. I wondered what they were really there for. We waited in silence behind those trees for what seemed forever. Mindi’s face was pale, her eyes wide. I wondered what she was thinking. There was nothing to say, nothing to see, yet there was no way we could leave while those men were in that barn. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the door opened. Morchan, the pebbly-faced man, was talking as they filed out.
“You have quite the set-up in there, Mr. Braemarie,” he said, his hand beating a rhythm against his leg. His voice was unexpectedly deep, coming out of such a twiggy body.
“I think we’ll be able to work out a very satisfactory deal,” said Gorely.
“Most definitely,” nodded Mr. Braemarie, with a tight smile. “Now, as I was saying, my prices for parts are non-negotiable. I know I might be a bit higher than other suppliers, but my parts are guaranteed to be genuine. Besides, this business is riskier than it used to be, and I need to take care of my profit margin.”
“I understand,” said Gorely, nodding. “I’ll talk to my buyers and be back with our initial order by the end of the week.”
“Sounds good. I look forward to your next visit. You know how to reach me,” said Mr. Braemarie as they shook hands. Gorely slipped into the passenger seat of the car, his rings catching the last low rays of the sun.
Morchan shook Mr. Braemarie’s hand also, a vigorous two pumps as if he were either trying to impress Mr. Braemarie or hurt him. Mr. Braemarie didn’t appear to notice.
“We’ll be in touch,” said Morchan, with that surprisingly deep voice. The drill sergeant, Cheng, simply got in behind the wheel of the black car. Apparently, he didn’t do much talking.
Mr. Braemarie stood and watched as the car backed down the driveway and drove out of sight. He started to walk back into the barn but stopped himself, then turned and looked all around before briskly jogging to the house, leaving the barn door unlocked — beckoning and inviting me. It was an opportunity that was too good to be true!
Startled, Mindi and I looked at each other.
“He left the barn door open,” I pointed out, needlessly. “I thought he always kept it locked.”
“He does ...”
“Here’s our chance. We can go inside and see what’s in there.”
Mindi hesitated. “I don’t know, Sarah ... What do you think they meant by ‘genuine parts’?”
“There’s only one way to find out.” I tugged at her arm and started towards the barn.
She pulled back. “I can’t. I’m scared.”
“There’s nothing to be scared of. Those men are gone. Come on,” I urged. She still hung back. Some people are just not cut out for detective work. “We’ll never get a chance like this again! We have to go for it,” I pleaded.
I had already wasted valuable time. With a quick look towards the house to make sure the coast was still clear, I made the dash to the barn as fast as my feet could carry me. I vaguely remember Mindi grabbing my arm. Nobody could stop me, I was on a mission. This was a golden opportunity. If Mindi didn’t want to join me, that was her choice.
No sooner had I slipped into the barn than I heard the distant slamming of the house door. Mr. Braemarie was coming back! So soon! Now I was scared. I pressed my hands to my chest to calm my hammering heart; I had to think fast. At any moment, he would be walking through that door, and the last thing I wanted him to see was me standing there holding onto my heart.
My frantic eyes darted around the small room and ended up on a rickety old ladder leaning against the wall on my left. It led up to a loft. I went for it and climbed the rungs with lightning speed. Just as I reached the top, Mr. Braemarie walked in. I scrambled behind the sweet-smelling bundled hay that filled almost the entire loft and worked on slowing my breathing.
At first I was too frightened to move. I couldn’t believe what I had done! What was I thinking? Roy always accuses me of being impulsive — maybe he has a point. I longed to be outside again with Mindi, innocently hiding behind trees, safely heading back to the horses.
It was gloomy up in the loft. There
was one tiny, filthy window that allowed some murky outside light to seep in. The only other source of light was from the room below, where Mr. Braemarie sat. Beyond the sweet smell of the hay, there was a rank smell, like you’d find at a zoo, filling the air, making me wrinkle my nose.
Slowly, I inched forward until I could peek around the stacks of hay. The first thing I saw was the top of Mr. Braemarie’s head. He had a small bald spot that I hadn’t noticed before. The light from the bare overhead bulb glinted off it and made it stand out against his cropped blond hair. He sat at a large, neatly organized desk covered with the usual desk stuff, you know, a phone, file folders, clock, pens, and so on. He was reading the contents of a thick file. There were two other chairs in the room, facing the desk. Otherwise, the small room was empty.
Eventually, Mr. Braemarie stopped flipping through the file in front of him and reached into his open jacket. With a slight twist he pulled something out and set it on the desk in front of him with a thump. It was a gun. I sucked in my breath. The only people I know who have guns are cops — and they’re allowed. Mr. Braemarie fiddled with the weapon, dumping something into his hand — I assumed it was the bullets. He swiftly tucked the gun into the bottom drawer of the desk.
I swallowed hard, and the sound seemed to fill the entire hayloft. I froze, afraid to move. My head spun. What on Earth was I doing here? What would Mr. Braemarie do to me if he found me hiding here? He obviously wasn’t the nice guy that Mindi and her mom thought he was. What kind of nice guy keeps a gun in his desk? For that matter, who keeps a desk in an old barn? What kind of operation was he running here? Why hadn’t I listened to Dad and Roy and stayed away?
Mr. Braemarie snatched up a cell phone and punched in some numbers. After a pause, he barked into the mouthpiece. “It’s Colin. Gorely and his thugs were here and everything went as planned.” He paused. “End of the week.” Another pause. “Gotcha. No problem.”
He tucked the phone into his shirt pocket. Sighing deeply, he stood up and stretched. Then he left the barn, slamming the door. The decisive click of the padlock that I heard all the way up in the gloomy hayloft made my blood run cold.
The Whole, Entire, Complete Truth Page 5