by Alison Hart
“Go ahead, Jas. I was just about to stick one of those frozen things in the microwave.”
“Really? Well, actually, the first question I wanted to ask is, Would you like to come over for dinner tonight? You left so quickly, Miss Hahn didn’t get the chance to ask you.”
“Oh?” There was a pause. Jas couldn’t believe she’d invited him to dinner, but then again, maybe she’d have more of a chance to quiz him about Whirlwind.
“Fried chicken,” she said enticingly.
“Sure. I’d love to.”
“The other question is about Whirlwind’s autopsy. Did she have anything else wrong with her?”
This time there was a long pause as if Danvers was measuring his words. “No. She appeared very healthy other than the complications from the poison.”
“Last question—did she have anything in her stomach besides the yew?”
“Her stomach was pretty empty.”
Jas swallowed hard. She was right. “Thank you. I just wondered why she ate the yew in the first place. So we’ll see you in fifteen minutes?”
“Yup. And Jas, no more questions about Whirlwind. Okay?”
Jas crossed her fingers. “Okay.” As she hung up the phone, her mind raced. Whirlwind had been hungry. And yew was so toxic that eating only a small amount would have caused her death.
“What was that all about?” Chase asked.
Jas stiffened. Had he been listening the whole time?
“I invited Dr. Danvers over for dinner,” Jas said. “Do you think Miss Hahn will mind?”
“No. She’s had the hots for him for ages.” Shoving his hands in his pockets, he strolled over to the sofa with a curious gaze.
Jas stared at him. Something is different about him. But what is it?
His baseball cap! For the first time since she’d met him, he wasn’t wearing it. His hair was trimmed around his ears, but long on top. It shone with auburn highlights. And now that his eyes weren’t shadowed by the bill of his cap, Jas could see that they were fringed with enviably long lashes.
“So what else did you and Danvers talk about?” he asked, sitting next to her on the sofa.
“What do you mean, ‘what else’?” she asked, scooting away from him.
“I mean, what was that stuff about Whirlwind?”
Jas was surprised by his question. “How do you know about Whirlwind?”
“You think I don’t know why you’re here? I may be goofy-looking, but I’m not stupid.”
“You’re not goofy-looking,” Jas argued, flushing when she realized what she’d said. “I mean—oh, forget it,” she snapped.
He grinned. “I knew you liked me.”
“I do not.” Jas slumped back into the sofa cushions. “So how do you know about me and Whirlwind? Miss Hahn?” she spat.
“No. My dad’s an investigator with the Stanford Police Department.”
“What?” Jas shot upright. “And he’s been telling you all about me!”
Chase shrugged. “Hey, it’s not like that stuff is confidential. A kid breaks the law and anybody can find out about it.”
“Yes, but, but …,” Jas sputtered, “but why were you asking him about me?” she accused. Then she frowned. “Oh, I get it. You wanted to find out all the dirt on the juvenile delinquent staying with Diane.”
“That’s not why,” Chase said, his ears turning pink.
“Need help setting the table!” Miss Hahn hollered from the kitchen. “The chicken’s almost done!”
“I’ll help.” Chase stood up so fast that Jas bounced on the sofa cushion. “I hope you have enough food,” he called as he bolted for the kitchen. “Dr. Danvers is coming to dinner.”
“Dr. Danvers!” She stuck her head around the door frame, place mats in her hand.
“I invited him when I heard he was having a frozen dinner,” Jas explained hastily. “I know I should have asked you first, but I could hear him drooling when I mentioned fried chicken.”
Miss Hahn looped a strand of hair over one ear. “No. No. That was a good idea. Gosh, should I change?”
“No, you look great,” Chase said.
“Except I’m so dirty.” Miss Hahn plucked at her pant leg, then began fanning herself with the place mats. “Whoo-wee, is it hot in here or is it just me?”
Jas looked over at Chase, who wiggled his brows at her and mouthed, “I told you.”
Jas burst out laughing, feeling some of the tension go away.
“You two are acting mighty strange,” Miss Hahn declared. Handing Chase the place mats, she hurried through the living room and up the steps, saying, “I’m changing into something else. Set the table for me, Chase.”
He saluted. “Aye-aye, Captain.”
When he went into the kitchen, Jas sat for a minute. So Chase’s dad is an investigator. Maybe he would be able to help me.
But that would have to wait for later. She still didn’t have enough proof to go to the police. She had figured out how Hugh had arranged Whirlwind’s death. But now she needed to find out why. Jas figured that Hugh’s insurance policy might give her the “why.” If the mare was healthy, she would have been more valuable alive than dead. Unless Hugh had a huge insurance policy on her.
Jas knew where Hugh kept the files on the horses. And Phil had access to them at any time. But would he help?
After listening to make sure everybody was busy, Jas picked up the phone and dialed the office number for High Meadows. Phil just might be there taking care of last-minute paperwork before leaving for the night.
He picked up on the first ring.
“Phil, it’s Jas.” Furtively, she glanced up the steps, checking to see if Miss Hahn was coming down. This was one conversation she definitely didn’t want her to report to Hugh.
“Jas?” Phil’s voice was just as low. Was someone in the office with him?
“I heard you went to see Grandfather,” Jas rushed on. “I heard you suspect Hugh of putting the yew in the paddock.”
There was a dead silence. Jas bit her bottom lip.
“Yes.”
“Then you’ve got to help me! I need to look at Whirlwind’s insurance policy. I think it’s the key to proving Hugh killed her. Can you get me a copy?”
“Yes. Look, I’ve got to go. I’ll meet you at one o’clock Wednesday when you visit the nursing home. I’ll have it then.”
The phone clicked off. For a second, Jas didn’t move, afraid she’d burst the bubble of hope swelling inside her. If everything worked out, she finally had an idea how to get Hugh.
A copy of Dr. Danvers’s autopsy report stating that Whirlwind’s stomach was empty would show how Hugh planned to kill Whirlwind. A copy of the insurance policy showing a big payoff would then show his motivation to do so.
The police might not believe her, but how could they ignore the documents? And with Phil on her side, she would finally be able to prove that Hugh Robicheaux killed his own horse.
Fourteen
“I’LL PICK YOU UP IN HALF AN HOUR,” MISS Hahn said as Jas climbed out of the car. It was Wednesday, the day of Jas’s second visit with her grandfather.
Miss Hahn pulled out of the driveway to go run some errands. As Jas walked up the sidewalk, she began to feel nervous.
Is Phil really coming?
But as soon as she scanned the cars, she spotted Phil’s Jeep parked behind the nursing home van. Excited, she rushed inside, checked in at the front desk, and then hunted for Phil and her grandfather. She found both of them in the dayroom. Phil was standing by the window wearing new jeans and cowboy boots, looking totally ill at ease.
“Hi!” Jas rushed over to her grandfather’s wheelchair. Crouching by his knee, she took his hand and peered into his pale face. He smiled crookedly, but his eyes seemed brighter.
“Did Phil tell you what he was bringing us?”
Grandfather nodded, but when she glanced up at Phil, she saw distress etched in his face. “What’s wrong?” Jas asked as she stood up. “Couldn’t you get a copy o
f the policy?”
“I got one,” Phil said as he twisted his John Deere hat in his hands. “Only it’s not going to prove nothing.” Pulling several papers from his back pocket, he thrust them at her.
Jas’s mouth went dry. Slowly, she unfolded the papers. Phil pointed to several lines at the bottom of the first sheet. “Whirlwind was only insured for fifty grand,” he said. “But she was worth a hundred.”
“But that can’t be!” Jas cried in disbelief. “If Hugh lost money on the mare, he would have had no reason to kill her!”
Phil bobbed his head. “That’s right.” He glanced at Grandfather, who was staring so intently at both of them that Jas could tell he was taking in every word.
“Which means we’ve got to drop this whole thing,” Phil said as he lowered his voice. “Hugh knows we’re suspicious.”
A chill raced up Jas’s spine. “How does he know? What does he know?”
Phil swung his head. “I’m not sure. But he knows I visited your grandfather last Saturday. And I think he knows I’m here with you today.”
Jas let out her breath. “I bet Miss Hahn told him. Do you think he knows about this copy?”
“Probably. The guy’s been watching me like a hawk. He’s looking for any excuse to fire me. You know that Danvers isn’t our vet anymore?”
“Ummph!” Jas glanced down at Grandfather, who sounded as if he was being strangled. Kneeling, she patted his hand. “Are you all right?”
“At ooves Hugh illed Irlwind!” He waved his good arm wildly.
“Are you saying that getting rid of Danvers proves Hugh is guilty?” Jas clarified.
“Es! Ee’s etting id of all of us.”
Jas’s eyes widened. “He’s right. Hugh is getting rid of anyone who might be suspicious about Whirlwind’s death. That shows he is guilty of something, but what?”
“Danvers had his doubts about the mare’s death,” said Phil. “So when he did the autopsy, he checked to make sure she was sound. He also made sure she was still valuable as a brood mare. She was. That means if Hugh killed her, he killed a perfectly healthy mare worth over a hundred thousand dollars. Which makes no sense.”
Jas stifled a moan. How could she have been so wrong? Was there something she was missing?
Aladdin!
“Phil, tell me about Aladdin.”
“Aladdin?” Phil frowned in confusion.
“That horse that died the year my grandparents and I came to work at the farm. He was that big Dutch Warmblood. He used to jump into the field to chase the cattle. Hugh always boasted he could jump over the moon.”
“I remember him,” Phil said. “A chestnut gelding. Died of colic.”
“Did anyone check to make sure it really was colic?”
“Danvers was called in—he was the vet back then, too—and he said all the signs pointed to colic.”
“What about an autopsy?”
“Wasn’t done. Aladdin was only insured for thirty thousand. Usually, the horse has to be insured for fifty thousand or more for the insurance company to do a full-scale investigation. Besides, his death wasn’t suspicious.”
Jas tapped her lip, another thought crossing her mind. “What if Dr. Danvers is in on the scam with Hugh?” she said to Phil. “What if he faked Whirlwind’s autopsy report?”
“Oh!” Grandfather protested.
“Your grandfather’s right,” Phil said. “I’d trust Danvers with my life. Besides, he’s the one who did the extra tests on Whirlwind because he was suspicious.”
He patted Jas’s shoulder with his work-roughened hand. “When I checked the insurance policy, I called Danvers. He mentioned that you two had talked about Whirlwind’s stomach being empty. That’s not enough evidence against Hugh.” Ducking his head, he looked down at his hat as if ashamed. “The two of us agreed to drop the whole thing.” Phil paused and then grabbed Jas’s shoulder. “You need to also, Jas.”
Her heart sank because it seemed Phil was right. The insurance policy only proved Hugh would have been crazy to kill his own horse.
“Maybe it was an accident that the yew got in Whirlwind’s paddock,” said Phil as he put on his cap. “I’m sorry, guys, but I’ve got to go. Hugh thinks I’m at the hardware store.”
“Thanks for coming,” said Jas dully.
A small smile creased Phil’s leathery face. “Forget about the past, Jas. Your grandfather is mending fast. When he gets out of here, some horse farm will be eager to hire him. Everybody knows your grandfather is the greatest.”
“I guess.” Tears filled her eyes. She hoped Grandfather didn’t realize what Phil wasn’t saying.
Her grandfather was the greatest. He’d never be able to pull his own weight again. If no one would hire a partially crippled man as a caretaker, what would happen to them?
As if he knew what she was thinking, Grandfather reached up, took her hand, and held on tightly to his granddaughter.
Shadow’s rough orange hair was falling out in clumps. Jas ran the currycomb against the grain of his coat. Underneath, the new hair was a shiny chestnut color.
She wrapped her arms around the big horse’s neck. “You’re going to be beautiful! Soon that white exclamation point on your face will stand for WOW!”
He turned to look at her, a hunk of hay hanging from his mouth. Since Shadow was out of quarantine, he’d been moved to the big barn.
“Okay, maybe not beautiful,” she teased. “You’re too big and gawky. But if you keep eating like a pig, you’ll soon be as fat as Lassie.”
It was the end of June, fifteen days since Jas had been at Second Chance Farm. Eight days since Shadow had been on the thyroid treatment. Already he looked better. His back was still bony and his hind legs stiff, but Jas could tell by the gleam in his eyes and the arch of his neck that he was feeling like a new horse.
Sighing, she rested against his shoulder. Thank goodness she’d been busy the past week. In addition to yard work and taking care of Shadow, the farm had hosted a dozen kids’ groups over the weekend. So she didn’t have that much time to dwell on the meeting. But whenever she did have a moment’s rest, like right now, the disappointment made Jas frustrated. How can I prove Hugh is guilty when there is no evidence?
Suddenly, someone shouted and completely interrupted Jas’s thoughts. Curious, she walked over to the stall’s back window and looked outside.
Lucy was riding a fat pinto in one of the paddocks. Although she wasn’t a horrible rider, she did flap and flop around like a duckling learning to fly.
“Lucy, relax and go with the horse’s movement,” Miss Hahn was saying patiently. Miss Hahn was leaning on the paddock fence with her back to Jas. Chase was standing next to Miss Hahn.
“I’m trying, but this horse has a killer trot!”
“If she was bouncing like that on my back, I’d try to throw her off, too,” Chase said to Miss Hahn from behind his hand.
Jas stifled a laugh. Patting Shadow, she went into the aisle and closed his stall door. She dropped the currycomb in the grooming box, then walked outside to join them.
“What’s Lucy doing?” Jas asked as she came up beside Miss Hahn.
“You had trouble figuring that out, too?” Chase joked.
Miss Hahn blew out a breath of frustration. “We’re trying to get Spots ready to adopt. He’s pretty hardheaded, and I don’t want someone taking him home and immediately getting bucked off.”
“Where did he come from?” Jas asked.
“He was living in the woods like some wild animal,” Chase said. “When he started raiding cornfields, the farmers complained to the police. We had to rope him to catch him.”
“That’s it!” Lucy yelled in complete frustration. Halting Spots in front of them, she jumped off. “I’m never riding this horse again.”
Jerking the reins over the horse’s head, Lucy thrust them at Miss Hahn. “For all I care, he can be sold for dog food!”
Hands on her slim hips, she glared at them as if waiting for a rebuke. Ducking his
head, Chase laughed behind his palm. Jas started to giggle.
“What are you two laughing about?” Lucy snapped. “I bet greenhorn couldn’t do any better.” She jabbed her thumb in Jas’s direction.
Jas swallowed her laughter. “Oh, really?” said Jas.
Taking the reins from Miss Hahn, Jas climbed over the fence and jumped to the ground so close to Lucy that the other girl stumbled backward.
“May I borrow your helmet?” Jas asked politely.
“Sure.” Lucy didn’t sound quite so cocky as Jas confidently pulled the helmet on. Even Chase had stopped laughing.
Without a word, Jas led Spots around the paddock while massaging the crest of his neck. She had retrained several “hardheaded” horses, and she knew that most of them were hardheaded because their riders used kicks and jerks to force them to obey commands. But it had been over a month since she’d been on a horse. Would she remember what to do?
As Jas turned Spots in small circles, the horse watched her suspiciously with one blue eye. Ignoring his nasty look, she continued to massage his neck. When he finally heaved a sigh, and she could no longer see the whites of his eyes, Jas mounted him. Instantly, Spots stiffened.
“I won’t ask you to do anything you aren’t ready for,” she assured him as she rubbed his withers.
“What is she doing?” she heard Lucy hiss impatiently.
Jas tuned her out. In fact, she tuned out everything except Spots. Riding wasn’t just about sitting on a horse. It was about communication.
They stood there for ten minutes until she felt Spots relax. Only then did she pick up the reins and nudge his sides gently with her heels.
He walked hollow-backed, with his nose in the air, as if preparing for something horrible to happen. But Jas held the reins lightly and steered him around the paddock, using only weight shifts and leg pressure instead of tugs and kicks. After what seemed like forever, Spots dropped his nose, flexed his neck, and rounded his back.
“Big deal. So she can make the horse walk,” Lucy grumbled loudly.
Only, Jas didn’t care what Lucy thought. She could feel Spots’s stride growing looser and longer. She could feel her body flowing with the rhythm of his gait as her muscles instinctively remembered what to do.