Drew cleared his throat. “Um—Olivia. If Aaron’s out of action, Olivia is in charge.”
“Liv,” Frank ordered, “get your stuff packed and take these boys back to the Horse Farm. I’ll get on the horn and see that someone from Parsonage House shows up and that Brent’s mom knows to come for him.”
“Have them ride back as they are—don’t pack up. Leave the campsite as it is. There might be something here that can give us some explanation...or at least a hint,” Dustin said.
“This is my jurisdiction,” Frank Vine told him. “You’re not going to find anything that might cause a man to walk to a stream and fall in. You want to investigate? Fine, walk down to the stream. Olivia, you get the others packed up and out of here!”
Short of doing something that would land him in jail or get him shot, Dustin was afraid his options were severely limited. So he took the risk of sharing the one piece of information he’d hoped to hold back—until he had the lab results, anyway.
“We need to look for a dart gun,” he said bluntly.
“What?”
It wasn’t just Frank who stared at him as if he’d lost his mind. Everyone did.
“Ask Joey. We heard something whizzing by us in the woods the other day. Later I was out here walking and found a dart.” He decided this might be their only chance to discover the truth; he had to get Frank to at least consider the possibility. Coincidentally, he’d be able to observe the others’ reactions....
“I think Marcus Danby might have been hit by a dart, one that might have been tipped with horse tranquilizer. It would have knocked him out—and then heroin could’ve been administered. And down at the stream, Aaron could have been hit with a dart, causing him to nearly drown when he pitched forward. Someone could’ve put together a cocktail of acepromazine and barbiturates—just enough to knock someone out. Something that would dissolve quickly and not show up in the standard blood tests done at an autopsy.”
They all looked at him incredulously. “That’s kind of a stretch, Mr. Agent Man,” Vine said. “You’re kidding me, right? Someone’s running around with a dart gun? This is twenty-first-century Tennessee! We’re not in Africa or worrying about some ancient tribe on a Pacific island.”
“I’m talking about drugs and tranquilizers readily available on any farm in the area,” Dustin said.
“Still...” Frank protested.
“I found a dart in the woods.”
“Why didn’t you report it?”
“Was I supposed to report a dart?” Dustin asked with mock innocence. To you? So you could say some kid simply got a new dart gun for his birthday?
“You should report everything to local law enforcement—and that happens to be me,” Vine growled. “Even if you are a federal agent.”
“All right. I know that now. I know you’re open to anything that might be out of the ordinary. So, Deputy Sheriff Vine, why not investigate?” Dustin demanded. “Are you trying to hinder an investigation or carry one out?”
For a moment, he thought he’d gone too far—that Frank Vine was going to order Callahan to put handcuffs on Dustin.
Maybe the man was even in on it. He’d been involved with the search the day Marcus was found dead; he’d been one of the first to arrive at the scene.
Why would a cop do such a thing? An old ax to grind? Maybe Marcus had refused to give him the dog he’d wanted. Murder over a rescue pup? Seemed unlikely. He wondered what other reasons the deputy sheriff might have to obstruct the inquiry.
But to his amazement, Vine seemed willing to listen to him. He looked at Dustin for a long moment, his jaw tightening. Then he looked down at the ground for an equally long moment. Finally he raised his head. “Believe me, I don’t want to hinder an investigation.”
Dustin did believe him. Vine was trying to be a good officer. He just had trouble accepting that something so absurd and devious could be going on.
“Olivia, you get everyone going,” Vine said. “The agent and I are—”
“Wait!” Matt broke in. “Is that legal? Don’t you need a search warrant? I mean, what if you catch a killer, but your evidence turns out to be tainted?” He looked around worriedly. “My, uh, dad’s an attorney,” he added. “Fruit of the poisonous tree, and all that.”
“You have my permission to search all Horse Farm property,” Olivia said. “There. That handles the tents.”
“You can search all our personal property, as well. Does anyone have any objections?” Drew asked. “Matt, I’m pretty sure that if you say it’s fine, it’s fine. There are a lot of witnesses who’ll hear you give your permission.”
“You can search anything of mine. Hell, we have our blood and urine tested all the time. What do I care about a backpack?” Matt said. “Guys?” he turned to the others.
They all murmured that they had no objections.
“Then, Olivia, if you’d please get everyone mounted up? We’ll return everyone’s property later,” Vine said. “Deputy Callahan’s going to ride with you.”
“Wow. I finally got to use my iPod again,” Matt moaned. “And you’re taking it away.”
“We’ll get it back to you by tonight,” Dustin promised.
Olivia helped Mariah to her feet. “We just leave everything?” she asked Dustin.
He nodded, speaking to her privately as the others went to get the horses saddled and ready for the ride back. It was decided that Callahan would be riding Aaron’s horse.
“And stay with the deputy,” Dustin emphasized. “Get the kids back where they belong, and you stay with Callahan. I don’t like you being without me. I’d thought the answer might be here, but...no one reacted when I brought it up.” He shrugged. “So, I just don’t know.”
“You didn’t tell me anything about a dart gun,” she accused him.
“It’s a long shot.” He grimaced. “If you’ll pardon the bad pun.”
She nodded distractedly. “But who could have struck him? We were all at the campsite together.”
“None of us was at the stream when he went down there,” he said. “We didn’t realize Aaron was missing, there was so much commotion over Mariah.”
“You suspected Aaron,” she said. “You thought he killed Marcus.”
“I never put that into words.”
She took a deep breath. “Do you think he’ll make it?”
“He’s breathing, and they can keep him breathing. How long he was out, I don’t know.”
Drew had the kids saddling the horses. All the saddlebags—everything else—was left behind.
A dart could easily be hidden. And even though a dart gun was small, Dustin hoped he could see if anyone was carrying anything that looked suspect. He surveyed the riders and saw cell phones pressed against pockets, but nothing in the shape of a dart gun.
But, he figured, the dart gun could’ve been tossed in the forest somewhere.
When the riders were all mounted and ready to head back, he stood close to Olivia for a moment. She appeared to be calm and in control. She also looked drained and weary.
He wanted to rebuff the whole concept of searching for the dart gun—which he didn’t think he was going to find, anyway. He wanted to head back with Olivia, take a steaming shower and fall into bed with her. He’d never in his life regretted trying to be noble as much as he did now. And he hated the idea that she was riding away while he stayed.
When they were gone, Vine turned to him. “Listen, we’re not idiots or incompetent. Nor are we close-minded. We are a small department, though, and we don’t get a lot of murders out here. When something bad happens, I’m afraid it’s usually a domestic situation. So, G-man, what’s your plan?”
“Methodical and boring,” Dustin told him. “We search everything. And, to be honest, I don’t think we’re going to find what we’re looking for.”
“So why are we doing this?”
“In case we do find something.”
He remained surprised—and impressed—by the turnabout in Frank Vine. But he
figured the man was good at his job. He could probably maintain order, find the missing, collar rabble-rousers, and he no doubt ran a tight ship.
As he’d said, he wasn’t accustomed to murder—or attempted murder. Especially when it appeared that no one had been in the vicinity to cause an “accident” that might lead to death.
“First, can you use your radio and get hold of someone to see that Aaron Bentley’s kept under surveillance at the hospital?” Dustin asked.
“I can.” He studied Dustin, then shook his head. “You really think someone might have murdered Marcus Danby—and attempted to kill Aaron Bentley?”
“I do,” Dustin said.
“Okay, then. You call the shots.”
“I’m not trying to take over.”
“I’m not letting you take over. I’m giving you an order to call the shots.”
Dustin grinned. “Thanks.”
Using Dustin’s light and the sheriff’s more powerful one, they started at the stream. Daylight was upon them, but the water was murky and it was much easier to search ground, bushes and bracken with the extra light. Frank Vine was skilled at tracking; he found disruptions in the grass where Aaron had first walked. Vine also discovered exactly where he’d stepped into the stream and then fallen and nearly drowned. Dustin carefully searched the area where Aaron had fallen but to no avail. He’d been intent on saving a man’s life, not on collecting evidence. If a tiny dart had gone whistling at the man, it was now lost in the stream.
“Needle in a haystack,” Vine muttered.
“Doesn’t mean it’s not there,” Dustin said.
He and Vine backtracked and starting going through the bags and equipment at the campsite. As Dustin had expected, they found nothing.
While they searched, he and Vine discussed the case. “Why?” Frank asked. “Why the hell murder Marcus Danby? I don’t get it. Suppose someone had an old grudge. Something that festered in his mind for years. Okay, that might be a reason to kill. But we notice strangers and tourists out here. Say that had happened, anyway. Or, say, someone wanted the Horse Farm—but that someone would most likely have been Aaron Bentley, and now...”
His voice trailed off in confusion.
“I don’t know. I wish I did,” Dustin said. They’d gone through everything, every backpack and sleeping bag; they hadn’t found a thing.
Not one of the boys had been carrying “contraband,” not so much as a magazine.
He looked around. That morning, when he’d heard Mariah scream, he’d dashed out of his tent into the woods, in the direction of her scream. Still, he could remember how he’d gone.
“Let’s check the woods,” he suggested.
“Which woods?” Vine asked dryly.
“This way.” They started through the trees. There were a few trails—the woods in this area had long been the “washrooms” of the campground. But Dustin moved deeper, making his way to the exact spot where he’d found Mariah early that morning. Frank Vine walked ahead of him, while he searched the ground.
“What the frickin’ hell?” Frank yelled.
Dustin looked up. Frank was staring at something stashed in the trees. Dustin walked over to join him.
Frank Vine hadn’t found a dart gun.
What he’d found was even more perplexing.
* * *
The sun had fully risen now, but the wind was brisk and the ride back felt long. For the most part, everyone seemed subdued. But, of course, they were all worried about Aaron.
Olivia was numb. Cold and numb. She hadn’t wanted to believe that anyone at the Horse Farm could have wanted to kill Marcus, but now something had happened to Aaron, too. And it seemed highly unlikely that Aaron—with the most to gain from Marcus’s death—would have attempted to drown himself. Especially when he wasn’t in a position to believe that someone would be there to save him.
It all seemed crazy.
When they neared the Horse Farm, Olivia felt her phone buzz. She answered it. Sandra was on the other end, spewing furious words at her.
“Sandra, I can’t understand you. Please, calm down.”
“Is that idiot agent friend of yours around?”
“You mean Dustin?” Olivia was surprised by the way Sandra had voiced the question. Dustin was a guest at the Horse Farm. He shouldn’t have been referred to as her “idiot agent friend.”
“Obviously,” Sandra spat. “I don’t know what he’s done, but they won’t let me in with Aaron. There’s a deputy watching him and they won’t let anyone else in.”
“Sandra, that would have been Frank Vine’s call, not Dustin’s.”
“Your FBI man put him up to it,” Sandra said. “I want to talk to that man on the phone. I need to be with Aaron!”
“We’re not with them. We’re almost back at the Horse Farm.”
“Well, then, you get down here as soon as you’re back! You have to do something. This is ridiculous. And appalling!”
“Sandra, I’m not going to be able to do anything,” Olivia told her. “I’m not law enforcement. Speak to the deputy. He can reach Frank.”
Sandra swore. Olivia tried to tell her that, right now, Aaron really needed medical care more than he needed his hand held—even if he was having an affair with the person who wanted to hold his hand.
But as she tried to form the words, the phone went dead. Sandra had hung up on her.
“Who was that?” Mariah asked, riding up to her.
“Sandra. She’s upset. They won’t let her in with Aaron.”
“What did she want you to do?”
“Make Dustin tell Frank that the hospital should let her in.”
“She blames Dustin?”
Olivia just shrugged.
“It’s getting kind of scary, huh? Two accidents, one deadly, the other one almost so. Well, I guess Marcus brought on his own accident, but Aaron’s as straight as an arrow. Makes you wonder.”
“Mariah,” she said, irritated, “I still don’t believe Marcus brought about his own death.” She couldn’t help sighing. “I guess we all need to be careful.”
Mariah nodded. “Maybe we should close down for a while. Maybe—”
“What?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe the Horse Farm shouldn’t be open for a while. Maybe that’s what...someone wants.”
Olivia turned to look at her. “Mariah, what’s happened lately is bad. But the Horse Farm’s done so much for so many people. Brent’s a different person now. Lots of kids—and adults!—have developed their own sense of self-worth through the work we do.”
“I know. The Horse Farm is my life—I wouldn’t want it to close permanently, but...if there’s another accident...” She shivered violently. “This morning...I was so excited. I thought I’d finally seen the general! And then, when I found the bloody remains of that cow... And who would’ve figured that Aaron would be drowning at the same time!”
“He’s not dead,” Olivia reminded her.
“Oh, Olivia! He has to make it!” she whimpered. “It’s so horrible. We were all so close. We loved working together. We were a family.”
“We’re still a family,” Olivia said firmly. “And, please, stop talking in the past tense. The kids can hear us.”
“You don’t think the kids aren’t saying the same thing?”
Olivia turned in her saddle, looking back at the other riders. Matt and Joey were close together, deep in whispered conversation. At the end of the line, Drew was riding listlessly, as if he were in shock. Deputy Callahan was trying to be cheerful, riding beside Brent. Mason was with Sean.
“The work isn’t what’s wrong, that’s for sure,” Olivia said. “We’ll get through this the best we can.”
But Mariah’s words were to prove prophetic. When they reached the Horse Farm, the van from the boys’ rehab house was already there to get them; the driver and Sydney were out front, talking. Brent’s mother was standing by the fence, her face pinched with worry.
When Olivia dismounted, Sydney hurried over
to her. “This isn’t good,” he said. “The Parsonage is reconsidering. They’re talking about withdrawing the boys because of everything going on.”
“Oh, no,” she murmured.
She saw Brent dismount from his horse. He ran to her, burying his face in her shoulder. “Liv...”
His mother hurried over. “Brent!”
She hugged her son, and Brent hugged her back. Brent gave others unconditional love, something Olivia truly appreciated. He loved his mother and he instinctively understood her concern. But he also understood that she’d come to take him away—and that he might not be coming back.
Olivia squared her shoulders. She spoke to Brent’s mother, assuring her that the boys were never alone and nothing like this could happen to one of them; she didn’t know why Aaron had been alone but he was an adult. Besides, she added, accidents did happen.
She didn’t believe it for a minute.
“Olivia, we adore you—my husband, my other children—we all adore you. And this place. But... Well, Marcus is dead. And now this? It’s a little frightening. No, it’s really frightening. I... Well, I’ll call before we come out for any more sessions.”
“I understand,” Olivia told her dully.
Accidents happened.
Well, they did, but in this case it was a lie.
But she gave the same lie to the boys’ van driver from Parsonage House, saying that the Horse Farm premises and activities were safe. She said they were all devastated by Aaron’s accident and that they prayed he’d make a speedy recovery.
When the boys were gone, she walked into the office and fell into one of the comfortable chairs, exhausted. Sydney followed her in.
“Where’s Sammy?” she asked him. The dog should have been there when she arrived; he should’ve been around, wagging his tail and barking with excitement.
“He’s in my room. I love that dog—and I know how much you love him—but he’s been a pain in the ass! Howled last night, scratched at the door. I put him on a leash and took him out for a while. I guess he didn’t want to be left behind. Or else...”
“Or else?”
“Maybe he sensed something was wrong. I don’t know. I’ll go get him for you, but...can you tell me more about Aaron?” His features were tense. “I’ve only spoken with Frank Vine and the info line at the hospital. Oh, and Sandra. They don’t seem to know anything at all, except that apparently he wasn’t breathing, the fed got him breathing again and...that’s it.”
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