Nav rolled his eyes.
“No one person takes the blame, okay?” Will told the group, trying to rekindle their camaraderie before Josh’s freak-out had them all leaping out the windows. “All for one and one for all.”
“Keep it together, guys,” added Nav in his best tone of authority.
They all promptly froze in place when someone tap-tap-tapped on the door. Will remained calm, though he saw Josh rub sweaty palms against his trousers and Nav shove his fists into his uniform jacket pockets. The door then opened to reveal Lady Covington, headmistress of The Covington Academy for the Equestrian Arts.
She was a tall aristocratic woman, more handsome than pretty, and she was dressed in her usual neat business skirt suit and heels. Her ginger hair was styled in its customary French twist, and she wore a single string of pearls around her neck. It seemed to Will that all the women he knew wore pearl necklaces. He found himself hoping for just an instant that Kit Bridges would never, ever own a single pearl. Pearls were so not her.
“Gentlemen,” Lady Covington greeted them in her crisp, dignified voice. It sounded to Will perhaps a little more crisp and dignified than usual. “I will be quick and to the point. Clearly someone from Juniper Cottage was responsible for last night’s incident. You had the only viable Guy entry. The guilty party or parties has until tomorrow morning to confess.”
Will noticed that, for all his usual bluster, Josh suddenly stared down at his toes. One by one, the other boys did, too. Will did not. He kept his gaze steadily on Lady Covington as she continued. “However, if no one steps forward to do the right thing, every single member of this house will face the consequences. And I assure you, they will be dire.”
Nobody moved.
“Will!” Lady Covington snapped, grimacing at the mess on the floor.
“Ma’am!” Will responded.
“Muck out this room immediately. Good morning, gentlemen.” And she left.
“Wh-what happened?” Josh said, shaking his head. “I think I blacked out.”
Later that morning, the tack room was filled with Fourth-Form students waiting for the start of Rudy Bridges’s riding class. He hadn’t arrived yet, however, so everyone was busy gossiping about the events of the previous night.
Kit and Anya, on the other hand, were talking about romance, specifically the evolving relationship between Kit and Will. “When it started to rain, we just stood in the doorway of the refreshment tent and ate s’mores,” Kit told Anya, trying to make it all sound very matter-of-fact. “Let’s see . . .” She pretended to have trouble recalling details that were, in fact, burned forever into her memory. “I told him I loved bonfire night, and he agreed, and we both got chocolate all over our faces.”
“And that’s when you kissed!” Anya broke in. “Mmmm, chocolate kisses.”
Kit laughed. “No, we just wiped the chocolate off,” she corrected Anya, trying to hide how dreamy the scene had actually been. The bonfire had kept blazing even when the rain had started, and sparks had danced through the air like tiny magical fireworks. The taste of the s’mores had been like velvet heaven, and Will’s warm blue eyes had gazed directly into hers as they’d oh-so-slowly moved closer and closer —
“And?” Anya prompted.
Kit realized she’d gone silent. “Oh. Uh, and I thanked him for helping me to ride TK, and he said you’re welcome.”
“Wait. Go back to the kissing part. Where were you? When were you? Ohhh, tell me everything!” She was whispering, but her breathy voice held enough excitement for three people. “Oh, my gosh, I’m hyperventilating!”
“Anya, you can’t just stop breathing every time you get excited,” Kit advised her friend with amusement. “Otherwise you’re going to drop dead the next time you see a puppy. And”— she shrugged — “we didn’t kiss.”
Anya shook her head. “La la la la la, can’t hear you! In my world, you totally kissed. Twice!”
“Not quite. Elaine called Will over with some question or another, and that, as they say, was that.”
“No!” Anya bleated. “How dare Elaine —?”
“Shhhh! I’m sure she didn’t do it on purpose.”
“Oh, she so did!”
Anya was right. Kit had noticed Elaine spying on her and Will right before they’d been about to kiss, so of course she’d put a stop to it. But Kit didn’t want to think about it. It made her want to punch things. “Whatev. We had a good time. And then . . . you know, later . . . Will came to the hospital and waited with me.” Kit marveled at how her time with Will during the bonfire still seemed like it was happening. Just talking about it put goose bumps on her arms all over again. But their mutual wait at the hospital already felt like it had happened a week ago. In a way, Kit wished it had. The further away in time the hospital was, the better.
All discussion stopped when Kit heard the distinct step-clunk step-clunk of her dad approaching. The doctors had placed Rudy’s right foot in a big walking boot, practically a cast except it was designed to take pressure so that Rudy could walk. A cast would have required him to use crutches. As it was, he had to use a cane. He’d also been given medication for pain. Being the stubborn old-fashioned cowboy that he was, Rudy had complained about the cane and refused to take the medication.
Kit watched him hobble into the tack room. He was leaning on Will, who made sure his teacher didn’t fall flat on his face. Kit carefully studied her dad’s expression — he looked annoyed but not too much, which meant that he’d given in and taken at least some of the medication. Good, she thought. Über-grumpy dad-teacher plus classmates with camera phones can only spell a social media disaster. She didn’t think she could take one of those right now, and her dad definitely couldn’t.
“Good morning,” Rudy greeted them, step-clunking into place. “The doctors tell me I’ll live. But before we move on, I want you all to think about what happened on bonfire night.” Rudy’s expression hardened. “Those horses are our responsibility, and we failed them.” He let that sink in, then continued, “Now, a spooked horse can be dangerous, so even if you think he’s your best friend, take it easy the next few days, yeah?”
Kit felt like those last words had been directed at her. Well, she wasn’t going to let her dad or TK down ever again, starting today. Starting right now.
Elaine stepped forward. “Are we forgetting that someone is responsible for Mr. Bridges getting hurt?” she asked the class, sounding more like a peeved adult than Rudy did. “Did anyone think about that?”
“I appreciate the sentiment, Elaine,” Rudy began, “but I’m not —”
“His foot is in a cast,” Elaine barged on. “He is completely useless. How will we ever prepare for the Covington House Cup now?”
Kit held her breath in shock. Elaine had actually called her dad useless!
Rudy got as far as “I am not —” before Elaine interrupted him again, fetching a stool.
“Take a seat, you poor man. You have had a difficult night.” She placed it directly behind him as if expecting him to dramatically collapse onto it.
Rudy’s ego seemed to have had enough. “I am not so banged up that I cannot teach a class,” he declared.
Uh-oh, there it is, Kit thought. Elaine poked him square in his ego. Now he’s going to be grumpy no matter how good or bad he feels. She sighed. Thanks, Elaine. Recalling her interrupted moment with Will, she added, Again.
“Everyone, out into the ring,” Rudy ordered, and he stepped toward the door, putting weight on his injured foot. As everyone watched, pain blossomed on his face and he had to pull back.
Nobody moved.
“Now,” Rudy snapped. He grabbed his Stetson from Will and forced himself to hobble out of the room on his own, his teeth gritted and his pride seeming just barely intact.
The rest of the students silently followed, including Kit. She badly wanted to visit TK, but more than that, she wanted to get away from Elaine. Why was Miss Perfect so concerned about her dad’s health, anyway?
El
aine filed out of the tack room behind the Juniper Cottage students — Nav, Will, and Josh. She stopped them halfway down the stable corridor. “So. Juniper Cottage,” she said in a slightly threatening manner.
Nav, Will, and Josh turned around.
“You made this personal when you put my horse in danger,” Elaine told them. “Never, ever get between a girl and her horse. Whoever did this will be caught, and the consequences will be dire.”
Josh smirked at Nav. “Why are the consequences here always so dire?”
The comment made Elaine zero in on him. “Joshua, I think you and I should chat first. Meet me after class.” She marched away.
“Oh, man,” Josh grumbled. “I cannot deal with her. She’s like a cold Lady C! I mean, I know I come off as the bad boy of Juniper Cottage —”
“To who?” Will quipped.
Josh frowned.
“Relax, boys,” Nav said. “I know exactly how to handle her.”
Kit leaned up against TK’s closed stall door, staring at him. He was facing away from her, his head tucked into the far corner. He would have looked kind of cute that way, like a pouting little boy, if circumstances weren’t so awful.
Everyone else in Kit’s riding class had just completed a series of simple exercises out in the practice ring to reinforce the horse-and-rider connection. The horses all behaved well despite having had such a terrifying night — except for TK. He had refused to come out of his stall, so Kit had spent the entire class period standing with her dad outside the ring. Normally it would have been embarrassing, but mostly she had just felt anxious about TK.
Now that class was over, he was still ignoring her.
“Come on, boy,” she called in her sweetest voice. “It’s cool. You’re cool. Come on over here and see Kit.” Terrific, she thought. I’m referring to myself in the third person. She held up a fistful of treats. “I brought you some mega-yummy snacks!”
TK didn’t move a muscle, and Kit was so engrossed in getting his attention that she didn’t notice Will enter the stable behind her.
She frowned. “Now you’re making it look like I’m talking to myself. Come on, boy — save me!”
Nothing.
Kit turned around in defeat and found Will staring at her. She noticed that his expression was somewhat anguished, but she was too wrapped up in her own present dilemma to wonder about it. “He won’t even come near me,” she said. “I thought he trusted me.”
“He does,” said Will. “You’re his person.”
“I just barely managed to ride him before the bonfire. What if he won’t let me do it again, and I can’t save him?” Kit waited for the perfect words, the exact words that Will always seemed to say at the exact time that Kit needed to hear them.
Instead, she got an “Um.” Then Will gulped. “I need a pitchfork,” he muttered, and hurried away.
Kit couldn’t help but feel bad for him. This has been hard on all of us, she thought. And now he’s got a ton of work to do, fixing all the damage the spooked horses did, kicking in their stalls. Still . . . She peered back into TK’s stall, where the sign that had been tacked up since she arrived still hung:
TK didn’t seem very dangerous right now. Kit imagined that if he were to move at all, he would just shuffle farther into the corner. “Come on, buddy,” she urged him. “Hey. It’s me. Your person.”
TK remained motionless.
Will felt lousy. He meandered down the dining corridor thinking of all the repercussions of his one dumb decision. It was a long list. He’d let his friends in Juniper Cottage down by not latching the hayloft door correctly in his haste to get the Guys hidden. He’d let the horses down when the loft door had banged open. He’d let Mr. Bridges down by creating circumstances that had gotten him injured. And only moments ago, he’d let Kit down by running away from her when she needed him, just because he felt guilty. TK was an odd horse, to be sure, but Will knew plenty of tricks that might have helped Kit get his attention in a calm, controlled way. But no, he’d muttered something stupid about pitchforks and made a run for it. How cowardly. How —
“William,” came a peppy female voice, “I understand you’re assisting Mr. Bridges.” It was Miss Warrington, and she was practically hopping on her toes as she asked, “How is he?”
“Yeah,” said Will absently. “He’s getting around. Slowly.”
“Such a shock,” she said. “I’ll stop in later, but, um, could you possibly deliver something to him? From me?” She unslung a large cooler bag from her shoulder and handed it over.
Will, often confused by the chirpy young teacher’s behavior, took the bag, wondering why she couldn’t deliver it herself. Probably busy grading papers or something. “Okay,” he promised her.
Sally beamed a wide smile. “Cheers!” she said in thanks.
The Guy Fawkes investigation was under way.
Elaine stood at a table in the student lounge with Peaches perched primly in a chair beside her. They had already shooed everyone else out of the room. Elaine wanted no distractions and especially no interlopers. She was going to maintain complete control over these proceedings because it was a matter of school justice — and a little bit of revenge.
Elaine liked revenge.
“In order to solve this Guy Fawkes travesty, I’ll have to embrace my inner Sherlock Holmes,” she announced to Peaches. “And you, Peaches, are to be my Watson.”
Peaches’s wide brown eyes held no understanding whatsoever. “Your what-son?” she asked in her thick Eastern European accent. “Who’s Shertock Hones?”
Sometimes Elaine wondered why she tolerated Peaches at all. The girl was a total bunny-nosed goofball of a person, easily distracted by shiny objects and never quite in sync with what was happening around her. Elaine found her quite vexing at times. Then again, Peaches was loyal, and she did whatever Elaine told her to do. Yes, that was probably why Peaches remained Elaine’s number one henchman.
“Who is Sherlock Holmes?” Elaine repeated in surprise. “Peaches! The world’s most famous detective?”
Peaches took a moment to think hard. She shook her blond head. “Nope.”
Elaine tried again. “Benedict Cumberbatch?” Surely the girl watched TV.
But Peaches giggled at the actor’s name, her pretty face scrunching up in amusement, creating a cute little dimple in the center of her chin. “What is that?” She laughed.
“Peaches, this is precisely why you should never speak.” Elaine heaved a great sigh. Good help was so hard to find. “All right, this is how it works. You will be the friendly good cop and lull our suspects into a false sense of security. Then I come in full force as the bad cop and ta-da! We get our confession!”
She studied the six large cards arranged on the table before her. She had prepared them that morning, conducting research into all six boys of Juniper Cottage and reducing that information into easy-to-compare data cards. The cards were laminated, of course. Elaine liked to laminate all her papers and reports, including her daily class notes. That way, everything remained clean and tidy even if it was handled roughly. This investigation was going to be rough indeed, so lamination had been essential.
Each card displayed each suspect’s school photo, name, residence, and country of origin. Most important, Elaine had included a spot for each suspect’s alibi, all of which were uncertain at this point, hence her investigation.
Being a creative person, Elaine had decorated the cards, too, placing the famous silhouette of Sherlock Holmes on the bottom and a picture of a magnifying glass on the top, flanked by question marks, and she had designed a neat border of little fingerprints all around the edges. If these cards had been a class assignment, she would have gotten a perfect mark. Naturally.
“Let’s begin with our weakest link,” she said. “The ever-shifty Joshua.”
At the same time, just outside the student lounge door, Nav sprawled on a comfy couch. It was there to give visitors a place to rest as they toured the building, but Nav was there to suppo
rt Josh, who was waiting to be called in for questioning by Elaine. Josh was pacing back and forth in such an annoying display of uncontrolled heebie-jeebies that it was making Nav want to nail his friend’s shoes to one spot.
“If it were anyone else, I could deal,” Joshua babbled as he paced. “But it’s Elaine! You know she doesn’t fall for the same stuff that other people fall for!”
“So don’t talk to her,” Nav suggested.
Josh shook his head. “Makes it too suspicious.”
“Look, just stick to the plan, and you’ll be fine. Just deny, deny, deny, then send her my way.”
The door opened. “Joshuaaaa,” Peaches sang out as if she were calling a child in for a surprise party.
Josh saw who it was. “It’s only Peaches,” he told Nav with relief. “I got this.”
He plastered a fake smile on and strode confidently through the door. But when he saw who was sitting at the table inside the student lounge, his smile fizzed out. “I don’t got this,” he said, making eye contact with Elaine. “I don’t got this!” He spun on his heel and fled like a mouse from a cat.
“You won’t get away with this!” Elaine yelled after him. “We will find you!”
This was Nav’s cue. He lazily pushed himself up from the couch and sauntered in, closing the door with a casual push of a finger. “My apologies,” he said, taking the seat opposite Elaine. “Josh is feeling a little under the weather.”
“We are so not done with him,” Elaine said. “What about you? Are you ready to spill?”
Before Nav could think up a suave reply, Peaches leaned toward him and said, “I’m the good cop.”
Nav grinned. “Oh, yes, Peaches. I can tell.”
“But you need to watch out for Elaine,” Peaches went on. “She is Detective Cucumber Patch.”
“Cucumber Patch?” Nav repeated, puzzled. Then his inner lie generator burst into gear and he said, “Oh, Cumberbatch! Of course! I know the family well. In fact, it was Phineas Cumberbatch who first introduced me to polo! I think it was at their summer place in Argentina.” He faked a hearty laugh. “Oh, I shudder to think how pitiful I must have been that first time!” As he spoke, the false incident was growing so vivid in his mind that Nav actually imagined himself falling off a horse while trying to play polo outside a huge mansion in the rugged Argentine hills.
Competing for the Cup Page 2