Whirlwind

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Whirlwind Page 3

by Alison Hart


  The quarantine barn was surrounded by wire mesh fencing to keep the other animals safe. Sam waited for Jas by the exit gate. When he spotted her, his tail fanned the air excitedly.

  “Hello, Sam,” Jas greeted as she opened the gate. The old shepherd pressed his nose against her pant legs and snuffled noisily. “Yes, there’s a new dog in town. You’ll soon get to meet her.”

  Shutting the gate, Jas waved at Lucy and Rand. The two volunteers were turning out the horses for the evening. Lucy was sixteen, a soon-to-be high school senior and model gorgeous. Rand was sixty, a rodeo-grizzled, retired bull rider. Lucy had helped Jas and Chase sneak onto High Meadows Farm. Fortunately, she hadn’t been captured on the surveillance tape.

  Jas hurried to the barn, grabbed a halter and rope, and went into Shadow’s stall. He struck the wall with his hoof, anxious to get out. “Cool it.” She calmed him with a shoulder massage. “We’ve got to wait for Dr. Danvers.” She hoped Chase wouldn’t tag along; she wanted to talk to the vet, alone.

  If Jas was ever going to find Whirlwind, she needed more information. Dr. Danvers had been High Meadows Farm’s veterinarian when she and Grandfather had lived there. He’d been the one to locate the identification microchip in Shadow’s neck that proved he was really Aladdin, and that led to the insurance fraud investigation. Now Jas was hoping that Dr. Danvers had some idea how to find Whirlwind.

  “Jas?” She heard Dr. Danvers holler.

  “Down here!”

  When the veterinarian peered over the stall door, Shadow snorted and backed into the corner. “Quit being such a baby,” Jas scolded the gelding. “It’s just a shot.”

  “He looks good,” Dr. Danvers said, opening the door. “You were right about his thyroid condition. The supplement has done wonders for his energy and his coat.” While the vet talked, he stepped nonchalantly to Shadow’s side and stuck the needle in his neck. “Done.”

  Jas scratched the gelding’s chest. “See? That wasn’t so bad.”

  “I’ll leave another container before I go.”

  “Don’t forget Ruffles.” With Shadow prancing beside her, Jas followed Dr. Danvers down the aisle. “Let me turn this goof out and I’ll help you with her.”

  “No need. Ruffles and I are buddies. Meet me by the truck and I’ll give you that supplement.”

  Jas led Shadow to a large field that he shared with Jinx and two other geldings, Gambler and Cadet. She opened the gate and unbuckled the halter. When it slipped from his muzzle, Shadow wheeled and raced toward the other three horses. All four took off, galloping down the hill. Gambler and Cadet were two-year-old Arabian geldings. They’d been rescued the past winter from a bare feed lot. Jas had seen the “before” photos. Now, after six months, they were plump and glossy.

  Seconds later, the four horses raced back. Jinx, Cadet, and Gambler, too hot for a longer chase, dropped their heads to graze. Shadow trotted around them, his tail fanning behind, his chestnut coat glistening in the evening sun.

  Jas remembered the first time she’d turned him out. He’d been so listless that she’d called him a plodding old school horse. What a difference.

  “Jas!” Dr. Danvers stood at the back of his truck, holding up a plastic container.

  She hurried over and took it from him. “Before you go …”

  “You have some questions?” he guessed.

  Jas nodded.

  “First, I’ve got some not-so-good news for you.” Dr. Danvers frowned. “I still can’t find my old file on Aladdin that listed his microchip number, and …” He hesitated. “The clerk from the insurance company is now saying that Shadow’s number doesn’t match Aladdin’s. That they aren’t the same horse.”

  “What?” Jas exclaimed, even though she knew what had happened. The clerk will say that the company made a mistake. Hugh had paid them off.

  “Let’s hope that the National Microchip Registry didn’t destroy their records.”

  “Which should be enough proof, right?”

  “That’s up to the lawyers.”

  Frustrated, Jas drummed her fingers on the top of the container. “That means I really need to find Whirlwind. She’d be solid proof that Hugh kills horses for money. Only I have no clue where to look. I know that Hugh must have shipped her from High Meadows on June first. After that, I’m stumped. He could have sold her to anyone, anywhere.”

  Dr. Danvers thought a minute, then said, “Hugh’s clients are scattered all over the United States. However, he would probably sell Whirlwind to someone who wouldn’t look too closely at the Jockey Club registration. If the horse killed in Whirlwind’s place was a Thoroughbred, Whirlwind might be using her registration. Or Hugh could have forged one.”

  “Either way, Whirlwind would have a different name.”

  “Right. She didn’t have an ID chip like Aladdin. I remember asking Hugh if he wanted me to insert microchips in his horses in case of theft. He scoffed and said he trusted the farm’s security system.” Dr. Danvers walked to the driver’s side and opened the truck door. “I bet he planned this latest scheme a long time ago, after he got away with it with Aladdin. He wanted Whirlwind to be impossible to trace.”

  “Impossible?”

  “I’m sorry, Jas.” He climbed into the truck. She stepped away as he shut the door. “Let’s hope the lawyers can nail Hugh for the scam with Shadow,” he said out the rolled-down window. “Hey”—he gave her a thumbs-up—“I’ll see you at the courthouse on Thursday for your hearing.”

  “Sure,” Jas said, not sure at all. The words impossible to trace were pounding too loudly in her head.

  “Yoo-hoo. Earth to Jas?” A hand flapped in front of her face. Lucy was peering closely at Jas. Her long blond hair was in a neat ponytail, and her lip gloss, foundation, and mascara were photo-shoot ready despite the evening heat.

  “We’ve got stalls to clean,” Lucy said, arching one perfectly plucked brow. “You all right? You’re white as a ghost.”

  Quickly, Jas pretended to study her fingers. “No, darn it, I broke a nail. Major trauma.”

  Lucy snorted through her perky nose. “Rrright,” she drawled, glancing at Jas’s chewed nails.

  She followed Lucy to the barn, half listening as the older girl chattered about riding horses for some rich owner. “I need to make some money before school starts this fall. You know, senior prom, senior pictures … Oh, I guess you don’t know about all that since you’ll be a lowly freshman.”

  Thanks for reminding me about school, Jas thought sourly.

  Stopping, Lucy shouted above the roar of the tractor, which Chase was driving down the aisle. “The lady’s paying me twenty bucks a horse. You’re not the only equestrienne around here.” She propped one fist on her cocked hip and faced Jas. “She’s Hugh’s neighbor. Does that bother you?”

  “Should it?” Jas eyed Lucy. Despite her boasting, Lucy wasn’t a great rider, so if some lady was paying her, the woman had to be clueless or desperate.

  “Her farm’s on Mill Road, near High Meadows. It’s called Blissful Acres.” Lucy glanced around the barn. “Sure makes this place look like a dump.”

  Jas bristled, even though she’d thought the same thing when she first arrived. She knew the owner of Blissful Acres, Mrs. Vandevender, whose pudgy horses were basically lawn ornaments.

  Turning off the motor, Chase hopped off the tractor, which he’d parked at the end of the aisle. “Are you guys going to do any work?” he asked.

  “Not for long,” Lucy said. “I’m off to Blissful Acres.”

  “They won’t be blissful once you start riding there,” Chase joked, and Jas started laughing.

  Lucy gave them both looks of disgust before heading into the supply room. “I guess she didn’t think that was funny,” Chase told Jas. “What’s she talking about, anyway?”

  “Lucy’s gone to the dark side. She’s riding for money.”

  “Are you surprised?” Chase grabbed the rake and pitchfork, which were leaning against the wall. “After she got a look at
fancy High Meadows Farm, it was no turning back for her. Besides, how else is she going to pay for all that makeup she wears?” He held out the pitchfork. “Here, you pitch. I’ll rake. Lucy’s going to lime.”

  Jas took the pitchfork and went into the first stall. Chase followed her. “No argument?” he asked. “No reminding Lucy that she limed yesterday so it’s your turn?”

  “No argument.” Jas forked up a hunk of pee-soaked straw. The sharp smell made her nose sting and her eyes water, hiding her threatening tears. How would she find Whirlwind if the mare was impossible to trace?

  As Chase raked manure into piles, he kept glancing her way. Finally he asked, “What were you and Dr. Danvers talking about before he left?” When she didn’t answer, he stopped raking. “No fair, Jas. If I’m going to be arrested because of that surveillance tape, I deserve to know what’s going on.”

  Sighing, Jas leaned on the handle of the pitchfork. “Dr. Danvers said that finding Whirlwind will be impossible.”

  “So? Dr. Danvers is a vet, not a detective.”

  Jas stared at him. Chase was right. A detective might be able to track down Whirlwind. And Mr. McClain, Chase’s father, was an investigator with the Stanford Police Department. “Do you think your dad …?”

  “I can ask him. He knows what’s going on. So if we’re going to nail Hugh and find Whirlwind, no more secrets. Deal?” His expression was so earnest, Jas had to smile.

  “Deal.”

  He started raking again. When he looked over and caught her still smiling at him, she blushed and braced herself for some major teasing.

  But he only smiled, too, and Jas felt her insides flutter. Spinning around, she attacked a pile of manure. Chase was such a great friend. And she had needed a friend when she’d first arrived at Second Chance Farm. More importantly, now she trusted and needed him to help her find Whirlwind.

  But that didn’t mean she was ready to trust him with her heart.

  Jas flipped the page in her novel. It was about a girl’s infatuation with a vampire, only the girl acted so stupid and in luv, Jas couldn’t concentrate on the story.

  It was Thursday, the day of her hearing. Jas wore a crisp white shirt, a denim skirt, and sandals, hoping to look appropriately repentant when she went before the judge. Still, she nervously twirled a strand of hair.

  In front of her, Chase paced the hall of Stanford Municipal Court. Beside her on the bench, Miss Hahn completed paperwork. At the other end, Jas’s social worker, Miss Tomlinson, was talking on her cell phone.

  Jas glanced at the building’s double front doors. Dr. Danvers was bringing Grandfather from the nursing home. Where are they?

  Her grandfather was important to her case. The judge had to see that he was healthy enough to regain custody of Jas. She loved Miss Hahn, but she was tired of being a foster kid.

  “Chase, would you sit down?” she whispered, slamming shut her book. “You’re making me crazy.”

  “This waiting is making me crazy,” he said, continuing to stalk. He wore khakis and a light blue cotton shirt. Jas had never seen him in anything but cutoffs or jeans and T’s. The shirt brought out the blue in his eyes, his sun-streaked hair looked silky-soft, and his …

  Oh, stop it, Jas scolded herself. You are not a love-struck idiot in a novel.

  She pointed to a closed door down the hall. “At least we’re waiting here and not in the holding cell. That’s where the deputies brought me for my first hearing.” She shuddered, thinking about that day.

  “Bender case!” the court bailiff hollered, and Jas jumped. A young kid shuffled from the holding cell, escorted by two deputies. He wore an orange jumpsuit, ankle chains, and handcuffs.

  Chase hastily slid onto the bench beside Jas. “Jeez, they’ve got him chained up like Hannibal Lecter. Hey, they’re here.” Leaping up, he strode to the double doors and held one open for Grandfather, who hobbled inside using a cane. Dr. Danvers followed behind.

  “You made it!” Jas tossed the book on the bench, ran to her grandfather, and wrapped her arms around his wafer-thin frame. A suspender buckle bit into her cheek, but she didn’t care. When Jas’s mother, Iris, left to pursue her dream of jockeying, Jas’s grandparents had raised her. A year ago, her grandmother had died of cancer. Since then, Jas and Grandfather had been a team. She’d missed him terribly.

  “You look terrific.” She leaned back. His snow-white hair was combed, and his cheeks were razor-smooth.

  He rubbed his chin. “Nurse shaved me. Nearly cut off my ’ead.” Some of her grandfather’s words were slurred because of the stroke, but Jas understood him perfectly.

  “Hello, Mr. Schuler.” Miss Hahn shook Grandfather’s hand. “Jas and I are so excited that you like our plan.”

  “Plan? What plan?” Grandfather shouted as if deaf, but then he winked. “Don’t ’orry, I love the plan. I’m ready to come to your farm and ’ork. Soon I ’on’t need ’is.” He waved his cane in the air, lost his balance, and would have tipped over if Jas hadn’t been holding him. Before the stroke, her grandfather had been able to carry a bale of hay in each hand. Now he could barely walk.

  Jas bit the inside of her cheek. How will he manage living and working at Second Chance Farm? But she pushed the worry from her mind.

  “Jas’s case should be called any minute,” Miss Tomlinson told everyone. “I expect it to go well. The judge has all the information about the circumstances leading up to her assault on Hugh. The probation officer’s and my reports will state that Jas has met her obligations.”

  Everybody but Jas murmured in relief. Her gut was tangled in a knot. Despite yesterday’s bravado, she knew the surveillance tape could screw up everything. She could end up back in foster care with more time on her probation. Chase could be arrested.

  The blood rushed from her head. Dizzy, she plopped down on the bench.

  “Are you all right?” asked Miss Hahn.

  “Put your head between your knees,” Dr. Danvers instructed.

  Miss Tomlinson opened her purse. “I have smelling salts.”

  “Get her some ’ater,” Grandfather suggested.

  “Excuse me.” Arm outstretched like a quarterback, Jas sprang from the bench and barreled through them. She raced around the corner. There was a ladies’ room in the small commons area, which also had soda and snack machines, an exit door, and a drinking fountain. Ducking her head, she gulped the stream of cool water.

  Suddenly, fingers grasped her upper arm, hurling her from the fountain. She slammed against the wall, banging the back of her head.

  “Hey—” A palm slapped over her mouth, stifling her cry. Jas twisted and found herself staring straight into Hugh Robicheaux’s eyes.

  Five

  “DON’T SAY A WORD.” HUGH GRABBED JAS’S throat with his other hand. “Just listen. You need to stop searching for Whirlwind. She’s safe and healthy. Got that?”

  How did Hugh know she was looking for Whirlwind?

  “Got that?” Hugh tightened his grip, and Jas nodded as best as she could.

  “If you persist, you will regret it. I can—and I will—destroy Diane and her precious farm. And as for that boyfriend of yours …” He grinned maliciously, his face so close that Jas felt the brush of his foul breath on her cheek. “I doubt he’d want his video debut sent to the police. Right?”

  Jas squeaked a “right” beneath his palm.

  “I knew you’d agree. Look, I kept my end of the deal. Your grandfather was well cared for at the nursing home. But keep up this foolishness, and I’ll make sure everyone you love pays dearly. Understand?”

  She nodded again.

  “Good.” Releasing his hold, Hugh spun and pushed open the exit door. Jas gasped, trying to catch her breath. Pausing, he glared at her. “Don’t forget, I have friends in high places.” He tipped his head in the direction of the courtroom. “Not only will I be acquitted of all these foolish insurance fraud charges, but also this meeting better stay between us or you’ll regret it.”

  The door
closed behind him. Running outside, Jas scanned the busy sidewalk and street. He was gone.

  She rubbed her neck. She could still feel his fingers, choking her.

  “What are you doing out here?” Chase asked. He was holding open the door, looking at her with a puzzled expression.

  “I … I needed some air.” Jas stumbled over the words. Ducking her chin, she tried to pass by him, but he didn’t step aside.

  “What’s wrong with your neck?” He pushed her hair behind her left ear. “It’s all red.”

  She shook her head, afraid to say anything. This little meeting better stay between us or you’ll regret it.

  Chase’s face darkened. “Hugh was here, wasn’t he?” Striding outside, he looked right, then left. When Jas didn’t reply, he whirled to face her, his blue eyes snapping. Jas had never seen Chase angry before. “You said no more secrets, Jas, remember?”

  “Yes, it was Hugh.”

  “What did he want?”

  “He said if I didn’t stop searching for Whirlwind, he was sending the surveillance tape to the police.”

  “I already told you the tape’s no big deal.”

  “He told me to keep quiet and to stop looking for Whirlwind. How does he know I’m searching for her?”

  “He’s bluffing.”

  “He’s not bluffing when he said I would regret it if I told anyone he saw me today. And”—her voice rose—“he’s not bluffing about having powerful friends and beating the fraud charges against him.”

  “Jas?” Miss Tomlinson said from the courthouse. “They just called your case.”

  “We’re coming,” she said, starting inside.

  Chase reached for her elbow, holding her back. “Forget about Hugh for now. You have a lot of supporters here today. Don’t let that jerk ruin it.”

  Nodding quickly, Jas hurried into the courthouse. A deputy in uniform stood outside the courtroom door. Jas joined Grandfather, Miss Hahn, and Dr. Danvers, who were milling in the hall. Miss Tomlinson had already gone in.

 

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