Whirlwind

by Alison Hart

  Jas froze. “What did you do to her?”

  “I’m afraid she’s just had a slight accident.”

  “Nooo!”

  “Hush, Jas. Give it up. There’s nothing you can do to save yourself or Whirlwind.” Hugh’s tone was so condescending and arrogant that goose bumps prickled her arms. She stared unblinkingly at his face, which was shadowed in the dim emergency lights. Yet the evil shone clearly in his eyes.

  There was no remorse. No guilt. No glint of sadness at the thought of destroying lives. He’d even used his own aunt to get his way.

  I am truly staring into the face of a killer. Jas stumbled away from the door. Whirlwind stood quietly next to Hugh, unaware of what a monster he was. Jas had promised to save her. She’d promised they’d never be apart. I’ve failed.

  “Ah, I see from your expression that you realize it’s futile to struggle any longer.” Hugh’s voice was silky smooth. “My plan couldn’t have gone better. I have you and Whirlwind right where I want you, Jas. Together, where I can get rid of you both and no one will be the wiser.”

  Twenty-two

  JAS’S GAZE FLEW TO WHIRLWIND. “WHAT ARE you going to do with her?” she whispered.

  “I don’t have to do anything. The storm will do it for me. The hurricane has changed to a category four. How long do you think a pampered show horse can survive in this weather?” His lip curled in a grin. “Ironic, don’t you think? Whirlwind will be destroyed by a whirlwind!”

  “Don’t, Hugh. Please. Don’t hurt her.”

  Hugh sighed. “Too late, Jas. If only you’d heeded my earlier advice to leave well enough alone. Didn’t I warn you at the courthouse? None of this would have happened if you’d kept quiet. Whirlwind would have continued to be Early Star, winning ribbons throughout Florida. You’d continue to be a hack rider living at a run-down farm.” He adjusted his ascot. “Unfortunately, you can’t seem to comprehend that I will never be prosecuted.” With a self-satisfied smile, he turned to lead Whirlwind away. “So be patient, Jas. I’ll be back for you in a minute.”

  “Stop!” Jas hurtled herself at the door. “Don’t put her out in the storm, Hugh. Don’t you get it? Scott Black is testifying against you. The police know you killed Tommy Looney. So no matter what you do, you won’t get away with it!”

  “Only, I will, Jas,” he said over his shoulder, his words echoing through the barn. “Because people like me always win.”

  Grasping the bars, Jas pressed her cheek against them, trying to see where Hugh was taking the mare. She heard the clank of the sliding barn doors. She heard the whine of the wind and the beating of the rain on the outside of the barn. She heard the slap of the lead line, Hugh’s angry voice, and the rattle of the door shutting.

  Then Whirlwind was gone.

  Frantic, Jas looked around the stall. She had to find a way out. But Hugh was right. The stall was built like a fortress, and it was accident proof, so there was no loose bucket or feed tub to use as a weapon when he came for her. Tilting back her head, she examined the ceiling, hoping to find a hole into the loft. But the ceiling was solid. Like most new barns, the hay was stored separately in case of fire, so there was no hayloft.

  Jas was as trapped as the horses. She sank into the shavings, unable to hold back her despair. She couldn’t save herself, much less Whirlwind and Marietta.

  “Jas?” As if on cue, Marietta appeared at the stall door. Her forehead oozed with blood. Her blond hair was soaked dark red. One eye was swollen shut and the other bruised. Her raincoat was wet with rain or blood or both.

  Jas sprang to her feet. “What happened? Are you all right?”

  “Car accident,” she mumbled, a split in her lip. Her eyes were glazed, and she fumbled at the door latch. Finally she got it open. Jas ran out, catching the investigator before she fell. She helped her to the cot.

  “Sit down. You’re hurt.” Jas glanced fearfully toward the barn door where Hugh had taken Whirlwind. Why hadn’t he come back for her? “Hugh’s here.”

  Marietta nodded woozily. “I know. He ran into my car with his. Felt like I was hit with a tank.”

  “You need help. There’s a first-aid kit in the supply room.”

  “No.” Marietta grabbed Jas to keep her from running off. “I look worse than I am. Really. No broken bones. Just a knocked-in head and bruised vanity. Tell me what happened.”

  Jas explained in a torrent of words. “He has Whirlwind. We have to go after him.”

  Marietta stood on shaky legs. She slid her gun from the pocket of her raincoat. Jas grabbed the flashlight off the cot, then zipped her Windbreaker. With Marietta holding on to her arm, the two hurried down the aisle.

  When they reached the barn door at the end of the aisle, it took all Jas’s strength to open it against the buffeting wind. Clutching each other, they stepped into the pounding rain. Jas was instantly soaked. She shielded her eyes with one hand, trying to see. But as if in a blizzard, the whipping wind and rain created whiteout conditions.

  Then a bolt of lightning illuminated a dark mound sprawled about ten feet in front of them. Letting go of Marietta, Jas ran over, struggling against the gusts. She beamed her light on the mound. It was Hugh.

  Marietta came up beside her. Kneeling, she felt Hugh’s pulse. “He’s alive.”

  Jas crouched beside her. The rain washed blood from an ugly gash on his forehead. “What do you think happened?” she hollered above the noise of the storm.

  “Don’t know. My guess is Whirlwind panicked. Maybe she reared and struck him with her hoof.” Pulling handcuffs from her pocket, she snapped them on his wrists. “Just in case.”

  Jas shined her light into the dark night. It bounced off a parallel row of white board fence. There was no sign of Whirlwind. Alarm filled her, and she felt feverish despite the chilling rain. “I’m going after her.”

  Marietta grabbed her wrist. “No. You’ll never find her in this weather. And the storm’s only getting worse. Help me drag Hugh into the barn.”

  “I don’t care about Hugh.” Yanking her arm away, Jas jumped to her feet. She aimed the flashlight onto the gravel. Hoofprints headed down the alley made by the fence. Using the top board as a guide, she followed the trail, her body tipped forward as she sliced through the wind. Branches and leaves were strewn on the grass.

  The alley and fence ended at the hay field. Cupping her hands around her mouth, Jas hollered, “Whirlwind!” But the cry couldn’t be heard above the howling. A gust slammed her into the board. For a moment, she clung to it. Aiming the beam, she again found Whirlwind’s trail. The hoofprints were far apart, as if she’d galloped across the field. Jas shivered, wet to the bone. Should she turn back and wait for help? No, help might take forever to arrive and she’d promised.

  Jas plunged into the storm. As she ran across the field, the tall grass switched her sodden jeans. “Whirlwind!” she continued to holler, even though she knew it was futile.

  The trail disappeared into the woods. Branches snapped as the tops of the pines and oaks whipped back and forth. A limb cracked overhead. Just in time, Jas jumped sideways as it crashed at her feet. She trembled with cold and fatigue. It would be crazy to follow the mare into the woods. Yet, if she didn’t, the rain would erase the trail forever.

  Desperation pushed Jas into the forest. The beam of her light grew dimmer. Blindly, she made her way from tree to tree. She tripped over logs and roots, her tennis shoes sinking in the saturated earth. Her Windbreaker clung to her body like plastic wrap. Her fingers were stiff with cold.

  Suddenly, she realized she’d lost the trail. She swung the light in an arc. Ferns, moss, grassy hummocks, and rocks, but no tracks. Heart thudding, she turned in a circle, searching for an imprint in the leaves or ground. Nothing.

  Throwing back her head, Jas howled as mournfully as Digger. “Whirlwind!” She pictured the mare running headlong into a tree or a ditch. Sobbing, she sank to her knees. Rain pelted her head and flowed under her collar and down her back. The wind threw twigs and d
irt in her face. Jas didn’t care. Whirlwind was gone.

  The mare would never survive a night in a hurricane. Hugh had won after all.

  Then a soft whinny came from her right. Startled, Jas whipped her flashlight around, catching the reflection of two eyes and a jagged white star. Whirlwind was walking toward her, dragging a muddy lead line.

  With a cry, Jas jumped up and stumbled forward. “It’s you!” The mare was dripping wet, bedraggled and shaking. Trembling herself, Jas ran her hands lovingly down Whirlwind’s face, neck, ribs, and croup. Her fingers touched sticky wet. She directed the light on the horse’s hindquarters, where a deep gash snaked down her flank. It would need stitches and time to heal.

  “You’ll be okay.” Jas kissed the mare’s muzzle. Then she began laughing giddily. “You just won’t be perfect anymore. That means you’ll be safe from people like Hugh for the rest of your life.” She picked up the dangling rope. “Come on. Let’s find our way out of these woods.”

  Clasping the lead, Jas walked beside Whirlwind, the fingers of her right hand twined in her mane. Somehow, they found their way to the edge of the woods. Through the sheets of rain, Jas saw a light bobbing across the field. She heard Marietta’s voice, faint in the thunder of the hurricane.

  Side by side, Jas and Whirlwind made their way toward the light. The wind lashed Jas’s shoulders like a whip. The rain swirled her hair and tore at her arms.

  She tightened her grip on the mare’s mane. Let the storm rage, Jas thought. She wasn’t letting go of her beloved horse. Ever.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2010 by Alison Hart

  All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Laurel-Leaf, an imprint of Random House Children’s Books, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.

  Laurel-Leaf Books with the colophon is a registered trademark of Random House, Inc.

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  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Hart, Alison.

  Whirlwind / by Alison Hart.

  p. cm.

  Sequel to: Shadow horse

  Summary: While working at Second Chance Farm, a rescue center,

  Jas tries to find Whirlwind, her favorite horse that she thought had been killed by its wealthy and unscrupulous owner.

  eISBN: 978-0-375-86006-5

  [1. Horses—Fiction. 2. Animal rescue—Fiction.

  3. Mystery and detective stories.] I. Title.

  PZ7.H256272Wh 2010

  [Fic]—dc22

  2009016491

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