Whirlwind

by Alison Hart

  “I originally thought he ran a reputable operation. But since I’ve been poking around, I’ve discovered that he’s brokered a few shady deals. Which is good for my investigation—I’ll have leverage when I talk with Mr. Black.”

  “Let’s go to his house right now,” Jas urged. “You’ve got a gun. And I’m mad enough to use it.”

  “Slow down, pardner.” Ms. Baylor stopped the car at the intersection. “Let me handle Scott Black. If he is the agent who set up Whirlwind’s sale, he’ll know where she is.”

  “Yes!” Jas practically screamed the word. “That’s why I want to talk to him now.”

  “Only we don’t want to scare him off. And”—she gave Jas a hard look—“we don’t want to tip Hugh off that we know about Black.”

  The blood rushed from Jas’s head, making her dizzy. “Oh, no. Do you think he found out we—you—were talking to Tommy? Is that why he killed him?”

  Ms. Baylor shrugged one shoulder. “It’s possible. Or Looney may have contacted Hugh hoping to blackmail him. Or Hugh could have been covering his tracks—getting rid of any telltale evidence. I’m sure his lawyers told him that the insurance company is proceeding with the case. Hugh’s smart enough to figure out we’re looking for Whirlwind.”

  Jas wrapped her fingers around the hound’s collar. “You don’t think he’d hurt her, do you?”

  Ms. Baylor turned the Escort left, heading back to Second Chance Farm. The investigator’s eyes darted to the rearview mirror, where they met Jas’s in the glass. “Let’s hope not,” she said.

  More waiting. Jas hated it. It had been two days since they’d found Tommy Looney. Two days since they’d discovered the information about Scott Black. Two more days of waiting to find Whirlwind.

  Ms. Baylor had told Jas to pack a carry-on suitcase and keep it handy. She was confident that Scott Black would lead them to Whirlwind. Jas wanted to be as confident as the investigator. But after all this time and all the setbacks, she was too afraid.

  What if they were wrong about the entries? What if Scott Black didn’t know anything? What if he refused to tell? What if Hugh bashed his head in, too?

  For two days, those questions had kept Jas tossing and turning at night. Adding to her anxiety was Grandfather’s refusal to take his medications for blood pressure and cholesterol. Neither she nor Mrs. Quincey were able to convince him. “Dang drugs’ll kill you before a ’eart attack” was his reasoning. “Your stubbornness will kill you first,” Jas had retorted. So much for acting like an adult.

  “Hey, Jas, can you hold the board a little steadier?”

  She glanced up. Chase stood beside her, a hammer in his hand. They’d been nailing boards to fence posts. Rand and Mr. McClain, Chase’s dad, were setting posts. Grandfather was handing out nails and using the level to make sure boards and posts were straight and even. Jas had slathered him with sunscreen, made him wear a straw hat, and dragged a lawn chair from the office. Still, she couldn’t stop thinking he might keel over any minute.

  They’d been working all morning. Now it was noon, and the summer sun beat from a cloudless sky. Chase had taken off his T-shirt. Sweat gleamed on his chest, trickling down his torso and into his waistband.

  Jas forced her gaze from him to the board she was holding. “Sorry. I was thinking.”

  “About me?” Chase asked as he expertly hammered a nail.

  “No. Though I do think about you,” she said quickly.

  He gave the nail head one last shot. “You just think more about Whirlwind.”

  She couldn’t tell if he was serious or teasing. “Well, right now I do. That’s because she’s missing and you’re not.”

  Without looking at her, he handed her the hammer and picked up another board. “What happens if you don’t find her? What happens if she’s missing forever?”

  “Don’t say that. Just hold the dang board in place.” Gripping the nail, Jas hit it hard, furious at the thought of never finding Whirlwind. Her eyes blurred with tears of anger, and she bent the nail and whacked her thumb. “Shoot!” She jerked her hand back and the nail dropped into the weeds.

  “Are you all right?” He set the board on the ground.

  “No.” Her thumb throbbed and her wrist ached from hammering all morning. “I can’t believe you said that. About not ever finding Whirlwind. That’s so cruel.”

  He studied her with his clear blue eyes. “I guess I just wanted to know what would happen to us if you never found her. The past two days you’ve barely spoken to me.”

  “Us?” she snapped. “How can I think about us now? Hugh killed some guy because he doesn’t want me to find Whirlwind. And according to your father, the county police have no leads or solid evidence. That’s all I can think about. Besides, it’s not like we’re going steady.”

  “No. I thought it was more than that. Guess I was wrong.” With a hurt look, he yanked his T-shirt off the post. “I’m going to get lunch.”

  “Chase,” Jas called as he strode off. But he didn’t look back. Still furious—at herself—she threw down the hammer. It hit the toe of her shoe, bouncing off.

  “Jas, we’re breaking for lunch,” Rand said as he jumped off the tractor. She picked up the bent nail and then looked around for Grandfather. He was slumped awkwardly in the lawn chair, his face bright red. Her heart flipped. “Grandfather!” she called as she dashed over.

  “I’m all ’ight,” he said, so softly she could barely hear.

  “I need help!” she hollered. Rand and Mr. McClain hurried over. Chase’s dad took Grandfather’s pulse. Rand drenched a handkerchief with water from his thermos and placed it on his forehead. Grandfather tried to bat their hands away.

  “He’s okay,” Mr. McClain said. “Heat got to him.” Chase’s father was a stockier version of his son. And just as sweet, Jas thought with a pang, wishing she hadn’t snapped at Chase. But her nerves were shot; right now she had nothing more to give to a relationship.

  “You’ve got to take it easy, old man. You’re not twenty anymore,” Rand jokingly told Grandfather, who scowled and retorted, “Neither are ’ou.”

  Everybody laughed. Jas tried to help Grandfather up, but he pulled his arm from her grasp. She knew he was embarrassed and angry. He’d worked like a bull his whole life. Now he was reduced to holding nails.

  “I wonder what’s for lunch,” Mr. McClain said.

  “Whatever we can find in Miss Hahn’s refrigerator.” Jas thought about their own empty refrigerator. Last night, she’d meant to ask Mrs. Quincey to take them to the grocery store. Stocking up on food: one more responsibility she was failing.

  Since they’d used Rand’s pickup truck to haul boards, it was parked in the pasture where they were working. “How ’bout I treat,” Rand drawled as he took off his tool belt. “Burger King’s not far down the road.”

  “Sounds great.” Jas opened the passenger side door. She tried to help Grandfather climb in, but he warned her away with a growl. “We need to pick up Chase,” she said to Rand.

  “Nope. The kid eats too much.” Rand winked at Jas. “Oh, wait. I’ve got coupons.”

  She rode in the bed of the truck, bouncing as it wound up the side of the hill. They caught up with Chase by the gate in the fence that enclosed the barn area. “Get in, boy,” Rand called out his open window.

  “Thanks. I’ll walk.” He opened the gate for them.

  “We’re getting fast food,” his father said. He was squashed between Rand and Grandfather in the front seat.

  Chase shifted his eyes toward Jas, then quickly looked away. “Nah.”

  “Come on,” Jas urged as the truck rumbled through the opening. “You know you’re dying for a bacon cheeseburger, dripping with grease, and a giant order of fries.” She could almost see him salivate.

  “All right.” Reluctantly, he gave in. He shut the gate and, tossing his shirt into the truck bed, vaulted over the tailgate. But he settled against the tire wheel, as far from her as he could.

  Sorry. I was an idiot. J
as rehearsed an apology. Hopefully he’d talk to her at some point on the way to Burger King. Maybe if she explained why she’d freaked, he’d understand. However, sooner or later, if she kept acting like a brat, he would quit understanding.

  The truck drove slowly past the barn and office, scattering geese, chickens, and dogs. Tilly barked at the wheels. Digger was in quarantine, baying his displeasure at being locked up. Monster and Hope ran behind the truck. Since Monster had gotten out of quarantine, the two dogs were inseparable.

  Like Chase and I used to be. Jas watched him from the corner of her eye. His gaze was riveted on the roof of the truck cab. She was about to say something when Rand braked in front of the gate that led to the driveway.

  Chase jumped out. Jas followed, shooing animals out of the way so the truck could pass through. When he shut the gate, he was careful not to meet her eyes.

  A horn beeped. A cherry-red convertible was driving up from the main road. Lucy waved from the driver’s seat. “Hey y’all! Come see my new car!”

  “Wow,” Chase murmured. “What a sweet Mustang.”

  Instantly, the guys spilled from the truck, even Grandfather. Jas could have cared less. Except that Chase was fawning over the car and Lucy. Jas scowled, kicked gravel, and patted Reese, who hopped over on his three legs with a tennis ball. She tossed the ball across the lawn. Then, figuring she’d rather be a good sport than a jealous witch, she sauntered over. By then, the hood was up and all four guys were bent over, inspecting the engine. “Nice car, Lucy,” she said, trying to sound as if she meant it.

  The older girl was fluffing her hair, her gaze aimed in the sideview mirror. “It is, isn’t it.”

  Jas slid one finger along the shiny chrome. “A present?”

  “Kind of.” She pulled lip gloss from a teeny purse.

  “From your dad?”

  “What’s with the interrogation?” Lucy shot her an annoyed look as she slid gloss over her pursed lips.

  Jas frowned, wondering why Lucy was avoiding her questions. Chase was right—it was ludicrous to think that Lucy was behind the leaks to Hugh. Yet, how else could she afford an expensive car? It certainly wasn’t the money she made riding horses for Mrs. Vandevender. And Lucy’s mom was a single parent who worked in a doctor’s office. There was a dad, but he lived in Richmond, and according to Lucy, he was a “jerk who married some twenty-year-old.” Had Lucy made a deal with a devil named Hugh?

  “Excuse me.” Lucy opened the car door so fast that Jas had to jump out of the way. “How do you like her, guys?” she asked as she waltzed toward the front of the car.

  Whistles and comments of praise rang from under the hood. “What do you say, Pop?” Chase whacked his dad affectionately on the shoulder. “I’ll have my learner’s in a month.”

  “Sorry. It’s your mother’s old Honda for you,” Mr. McClain said, and Chase groaned.

  Jas headed back to the truck, her thoughts still on Lucy. Devious spy or not, she didn’t trust the girl. Or any of the volunteers, really. Mr. Muggins was always hanging around. And George and Rand asked too many questions. The only people she trusted were Miss Hahn, Grandfather, and Chase—who wasn’t talking to her, anyway.

  “Jas!” Miss Hahn flagged her down from the kitchen doorway. “Phone call for you.”

  “Can you take a message? We’re headed to lunch.” If Lucy would ever move her stupid car.

  “You’re welcome to come, Diane,” Rand offered as he closed the hood of the Mustang.

  “Yes to lunch, no to a message,” Miss Hahn said. “It’s Ms. Baylor, Jas.”

  “It is?” Jas broke into a run. “Don’t wait for me,” she hollered over her shoulder as she crossed the lawn, Reese bounding beside her, still wanting to play.

  “You sure?” Rand hollered.

  “Positive!” The conversation with the investigator was too important to rush through. Jas raced past Miss Hahn. Flinging open the kitchen door, she flew inside and picked up the phone. “Hi, Ms. Baylor.”

  “Jas, I’ve got exciting news. Pack your bags—you’re going to Florida. I’ve found Whirlwind!”

  Nineteen

  JAS BURST INTO TEARS. SOBBING, SHE REACHED for a box of tissues, pulled one out, and tried to staunch the flow. “I’m sooo …” She struggled, unable to speak. Finally, the sobs receded and she was able to ask, “Is Whirlwind all right?”

  “She’s fine. Beautiful. I’ll tell you all about her when I pick you up at the airport.”

  “You’re in Florida already?”

  “Hey, when I get a solid lead, I work fast. Now, grab a pencil and paper. I’ve booked you a flight to Gainesville. You leave early tomorrow morning.”

  Jas’s head was whirling, but she quickly wrote down the information, double-checking every detail.

  “If Miss Hahn can’t take you to the airport, call this limo service.” Ms. Baylor gave her a phone number. “The insurance company will pay for it.”

  “Got it. Got everything.” Jas’s fingers tightened on the phone receiver. “Ms. Baylor, are you … are you sure it’s Whirlwind?” She was afraid to ask but needed to know. She couldn’t stand any more disappointments.

  “Ninety-five percent. She matches the photo, I found the scar, and her circumstances are right. Your identification will make it one hundred percent.”

  “Scott Black told you where to find her?”

  “Honey, no more discussion over the phone. And you keep this strictly between you and Miss Hahn, you hear?”

  “Yes.” Jas lowered her voice, understanding what Ms. Baylor was saying. No more leaked information. “I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon.”

  “Don’t sound so distressed. Just think—one more day.” She could hear the glee in Ms. Baylor’s voice. “One more day before you see your horse.”

  That night, Jas went out to the pasture to say goodbye to Shadow. Climbing over the fence, she saw him at the bottom of the hill grazing with the other horses. As soon as he saw her, he raised his head and nickered.

  She sat on the top board, whistled, and held out a carrot. His ears pricked and he broke into a canter. “Hey, easy. Whoa!” she gasped as he charged toward her, worried he’d jump over the fence—or over her.

  But he slid to a halt and plopped his muzzle in her lap, almost knocking her off the fence. Laughing, she grabbed his mane to keep from falling.

  “Such terrible manners,” she scolded when he snatched the carrot from her hand. “I came to tell you goodbye. I’ll be away for a day or two. When I come back, I might have a friend for you. Her name’s Whirlwind.” Just saying the mare’s name made her heart thump. Was it really going to happen?

  She tried to remember the last time she’d seen Whirlwind. It was the afternoon of the day before she’d found the dead mare in the paddock. She’d schooled Whirlwind over a course of fences, getting ready for an upcoming show. The mare had been perfect—smooth, steady, and graceful. Hugh had been so delighted, he’d told Jas to cool her off and put her away after one round.

  Instead, Jas had unsaddled her. Then, jumping on her bareback, she’d ridden her behind the barn and down a path into the shadowy woods. Hugh would never know, she told herself after every secret jaunt that spring. He was too busy calling clients and making deals.

  Not that they galloped recklessly through the trees. No, the two walked to a stream. Whirlwind would duck her head, drink, then paw with her hoof, splashing water. Jas would lie on the mare’s neck, arms dangling, dreaming of a horse of her own. Not just any horse. Whirlwind.

  Shadow bumped her arm, wanting more. “Sorry, Mr. Greedy, no more carrots.” She scratched under his forelock. His coat felt sticky in the humid evening, and flies buzzed around her head. “Now, when Whirlwind comes, I want you to be nice to her. No biting and being bossy. Okay?” He tossed his head as if agreeing. “Nicer than I’ve been to Chase,” she added, glancing over her shoulder.

  The barn and office were dark. Chase and his father had returned to the farm after lunch but had immediately left. She�
��d tried to call him to say goodbye and to tell him the exciting news, but he didn’t pick up his cell phone, and no one was home.

  Or he was avoiding her.

  Not that she blamed him. She’d been such a pain. Still, he’d worked as hard as she had to find Whirlwind, and he deserved to hear the good news—despite Ms. Baylor’s warning.

  Sighing, she gave Shadow a last pat goodbye. Jumping off the fence, she watched as he trotted back to the other horses. She’d try Chase later. In fact, she’d call until he answered, even if it took all night. After all, it wasn’t as if she’d be able to sleep. She was way too excited.

  “Your grandfather will be in good hands,” Miss Hahn reassured Jas as they drove to the Charlottesville Airport early in the morning. “Mrs. Quincey cared for her husband for many years.”

  Before she killed him with rum cake.

  “I’ll check on him every morning and evening,” she went on. “And he’ll be helping Rand during the day.”

  “Remind Rand to make sure Grandfather wears his hat and sunscreen,” Jas said. “And drinks plenty of water—he can’t get overheated. And he needs his nap after lunch.”

  “I will. Try not to worry. Concentrate on Whirlwind. Now, as for the farm business, I’ve good news.” Miss Hahn began to talk about the donations that were coming in. “We’re not out of the woods yet, but because of the brochures you kids sent out, donations are up.”

  “Thank goodness.” Jas was glad to see a smile back on Miss Hahn’s face.

  “Just in time, too. That dog Monster eats as much as a horse,” she grumbled, affectionately, Jas noticed. “And don’t get me started on Digger. He’s true to his name. There are four holes in the quarantine stall. But I think Daryl James, the farmer down the road, will adopt him. He’s got coonhounds galore, yet loves each one like a child.”

  As Jas listened, she stared out the window at the orange glow of the sun rising over the giant box stores and car dealerships on Route 29. She’d never flown before, but Miss Hahn was going inside the terminal with her. Plus, she had prepped her carefully on dos and don’ts, especially for when she had to switch planes in Atlanta.