Mystery at Saddle Creek (16 page)

PETE AND LAURA ARRIVED at the Saddle Creek trailer just as Bird was sliding down from Sunny's back, before her feet had even touched the ground. They must have started walking while Bird was still in the ring.

Laura was gushing with excitement over Bird's performance, but Pete knew better. “Win or not, I was sure relieved when you rode out alive.”

Bird began to unsaddle Sunny. She loved the Piersons dearly, but right now she just wished they'd go away. She was embarrassed and wanted to be alone. Those people got their freak show all right, she thought, angrily pulling the saddle off Sunny's sweaty back.

Don't take it out on them!

Should I take it out on you, Sunny? Should I beat you with a stick?

Do you want to?

Yes, I do! You showed off, you ran away with me, you didn't listen. We weren't a team out there. It was you against me!

I don't understand.

“Let me untack him and rub him down,” offered Pete. “You get some water and sit for a while. There's lots of time. Cool yourself down.”

Bird looked at Pete and nodded her thanks. She didn't want to be anywhere near Sunny. She walked down to the showers and ran cool water over her head, lapping up whatever ran into her open mouth. Then she plunked herself on the ground and leaned against a tree.

Why hadn't she applied for a job at Camp Kowabi? Right now she'd be out on the lake in a canoe. She'd be with Alec, and Pamela would be with somebody else — anybody but Alec. And here was the kicker. She'd chosen to show-jump instead, and she sucked! She'd been an idiot to think she was such a hot-shot rider. She had no business competing on this level. Bird's dreams of glory all came crashing down.

After a few minutes of letting herself wallow in self-pity, she turned to check how the Piersons were coping. She saw that Paul had arrived at the trailer. Hannah and the Piersons were huddled over a sheet of paper.

Kimberly walked down the hill to Bird. “Wow. You were red hot out there!”

Bird knew she was being extra nice to make up for spilling the gossip, but she wasn't ready to feel better. She pointed to the group of adults at the trailer, and looked at Kim.

“Oh. Somebody put flyers on windshields telling us to go to the main food tent for a rally at two o'clock. We're supposed to sign this thing that will go to the mayor and the police chief, and who knows who else.”

Bird nodded at Kimberly, wanting her to continue.

“It's put out by Justice for the Innocent. It says the fire was an accident. They didn't mean to burn down the barn, and they didn't want to harm horses or people.”

If that was true, Bird wondered why they'd started the fire in the first place.

“They make the point that a bad man is still at large, and the police aren't doing enough. The petition is to get the police to drop the charges against them so they can continue working to catch the murderer.”

Bird almost choked. How could anyone imagine that people would agree with that? Pierre Hall and Tanbark were severely injured, a barn was completely destroyed and horses had been put at huge risk. Who on earth would want that kind of “work” continued?

Bird glared at Kimberly to show her dismay.

“You'd never believe it,” Kimberly went on, “but I keep hearing that people are going to the meeting to cheer them on! People are fed up with fearing for their safety, and are glad somebody is doing something.”

Bird shook her head in wonder. Where would all of this end?

Liz's mother Patty and her boyfriend Philip joined the others at the trailer. Bird saw them shake hands in greeting, then get into a serious discussion. Great, thought Bird. Phil is here just in time to get lynched.

Hannah called down to the girls, “Get ready! There could be a jump-off. There are only seven more horses to go.”

A jump-off. There was no way Bird was taking that stubborn, willful, dangerous, crazy horse back in the ring.

“Forget all this Justice for the Innocent stuff until after the jump-off,” said Kimberly as they walked up the hill together. “I'm so excited I can't think!”

Bird just squeezed her friend's arm and forced a smile.

Bird? I'm sorry. Really.
The transmission came from inside the trailer.
Bird? Can we do the jump-off? Please?

No. I don't trust you any more, and that makes me sad.

What happened to mad?

I'm past mad and onto sad.

Which is worse?

Sad. Much worse. Now I'm questioning everything about us. I thought we were a team, but now I don't know.

That is worse.

I'll tack you up, Sunny, but we're not going back in there for anything but a ribbon.

I don't get it.

If there is no jump-off, we'll get a ribbon. If there is a jump-off, we don't. Get it?

I don't understand.

Bird was in a grim mood as she stood outside the ring on Sundancer. The last horse and rider had finished the course and were trotting out. They'd had four rails down and two time faults. Bird had no idea where she and Sunny stood in the class, and no interest, either.

Moonie and Kimberly, however, were another thing altogether. Moonie had developed an immediate attachment to Kimberly, and Kimberly was just as smitten. She patted her neck and praised her aloud.

“Good girl, Moonie, my beauty! Good girl.”

Get over it.
Sunny pinned his ears and snapped at Moonie.

Bird didn't care enough to interfere.

The announcer turned on his microphone and began reading the much-anticipated results. “There will be a jump-off to decide first and second. Coincidentally, our first two entrants had identical times. The third to eighth place winners will be announced after the jump-off. Would five forty-five and five forty-six come to the in-gate.”

Kimberly was stunned. “Ohmygosh! I can't believe it! You and I are jumping off to get first? Holy! Moonie, you're awesome!”

Bird! I can't believe it! We went much faster than them!

All your prancing and pulling in the wrong direction added time. Anyway, there will be no jump-off for us. We're not going back in.

No fair!

You heard me, Sunny. I am not taking you into that ring again.

Sundancer's ears flattened and his eyes became slits. He was angry — very angry — but Bird was not about to change her mind.

The jump-off course had been posted, and Kimberly pored over it intently. “I think I know the course,Bird. Do you? It's one, seven, six, nine and finish back over one. Wow, it's difficult.” Her entire body was trembling.

Hannah came over with a big smile on her face. “Well done, Kimberly! I'll bet Dexter Pill and his clients wish they hadn't been so hasty.”

“I'm so glad they were! I love Moonlight Sonata. I want to ride her all the time!”

“Let's talk about that later,” Hannah laughed. “Right now, you've got a job to do. Do you know your course?”

Kimberly nodded. “Yes, I think I do.”

“Good,” said Hannah. “Remember to sit up after the second jump and keep her steady coming into the vertical. You're up now.”

Kimberly and Moonie trotted in confidently, looking around at the jumps in their new order. What a difference from the petrified girl who'd woken up at the third jump, Bird reflected. She admired Kimberly's courage, riding this mare in a jump-off, when she'd only met her today.

They cantered through the electronic starter, and took the picket fence easily. Turning sharp right to the in-and-out, they kept a good clip, but Moonie picked up some speed as she galloped left along the fence to the oxer. Once over safely, they flew left to the vertical.

Sunny was getting quite agitated. He started jiggling with nerves and then hopping up and down.

This is very uncomfortable for me, Sunny.

It's not fair!

Kimberly and Moonie finished up over the white picket, after doing the optical illusion and safely turning a tight corner. Their time would've been hard to beat, anyway, thought Bird.

Hannah came up to Bird and Sunny. “Now it's your turn, Bird. But please, please, please slow it down. It was a mess last time.” Hannah reached up and smoothed a stray wisp of Bird's hair back from her face and tucked it under her helmet. She smiled encouragingly. “Do you know your course?”

Bird took her feet out of the stirrups and dismounted. She handed Hannah the reins.

“What are you doing?” Hannah stared at Bird. “Aren't you going in?”

Bird shook her head.

“You know this means you're disqualified?”

Bird nodded. She deserved to be.

Kimberly and Moonie trotted out. Kim glowed with pride and Moonie radiated pleasure.

Bird gave them the thumbs-up and clapped her hands.

“Get up and in there!” yelled Kim. “I've never had so much fun!”

Hannah called out, “Great job in there! Great turns!” She looked back at Bird. “Do you know what you're doing?”

No, she doesn't! But I do!
Sundancer reared up on his hind legs and whinnied loudly in rage and frustration. He shook the reins free from Hannah's hands and burst into the ring.

Hannah rushed in after him, just as the announcer's voice came over the speakers. “Loose horse! Loose horse!”

People came from everywhere, hoping to be the hero who caught the wild and dangerous horse.

But Sundancer would not be caught. He had a purpose. He cantered in through the starting gate and sailed over the white picket. Stirrups flapped at his sides and the reins flopped at his neck, but he paid no attention. He took the in-and-out perfectly, picked up speed to the oxer, then galloped on to the vertical.

All around him, people were trying to cut him off. One man brought a bucket of oats, and a woman held out carrots. Others waved their arms in a futile effort to stop him.

The announcer spoke in awe. “Sundancer is jumping the course! Ladies and gentlemen, I've never seen anything like this.”

Sundancer ignored it all. He was committed to completing the jump-off. After the vertical, there was a clear run to the optical illusion. Sunny raced. He chipped in at the last minute and gathered himself up and over. He landed lightly, turned left on the spot, and cut the corner so tight it was a miracle he could jump the white picket. Which he did. From a standstill.

The crowd was on its feet. This horse was jumping without a rider — and it was happening right in front of their eyes! Bird and Hannah had seen him do this before, but to everyone else it was unimaginable.

Sunny raced triumphantly through the electronic gate, bucking with joy. He slowed to a canter, then down to a trot, throwing his head jubilantly and waiting for the showers of praise.

But all he saw were panicked people racing toward him. Nobody appreciated what he'd done. Nobody knew that he'd just won the jump-off by three full seconds.

20

 

THE MEETING IN THE TENT

Tan was alone. Finally. First, his father had started fidgeting, then pacing, then he left the room—for good, Tan hoped, but he couldn't count on it. The nurses were on a shift change. This was his chance. Tan steadied himself. He had no idea how much time he had, but he knew he needed to move quickly. He snorted. He would outsmart everybody.

THE CLASS WAS FINISHED and the ribbons given out. Bird was back at the trailer with Sunny, in a foul mood. She watched from the trailer window as Hannah approached, looking around as if she was trying to find someone. Bird guessed that she herself was the object of Hannah's search, and tuned in just enough to know how worried her aunt was about her. Today, though, Hannah couldn't help her. She couldn't even help herself.

Bird, did we get a ribbon?
Sunny asked.

I don't care.

But you always care about ribbons.

I've stopped caring.

I don't understand.

Bird didn't want to continue her conversation with Sunny, and she didn't want to see Hannah, either. It was getting close to two o'clock, and the meeting would be starting in the food tent. She slipped away, heading down the hill with an ominous sense of gloom.

Planning to watch unnoticed, Bird found a hole in the canvas curtain behind the food tent. She peeked in. The tent was crowded with people. It was large enough to feed the competitors, stable hands, trainers, onlookers and families that came to the horse show, but it was not large enough to contain this number.

The backs of three adults, one woman and two men, were a foot or two away from Bird's nose. There was a long table running sideways in front of them, where people had lined up to sign papers, presumably the petition to drop the charges regarding the barn fire.

Bird scanned the crowd. Behind the people signing were groups who looked less pleased and more skeptical. They were likely here to find out what was going on, Bird assessed, as opposed to being supportive. That made her feel slightly better.

And behind the groups of waiting people, at the entrance of the tent, Bird noticed some police uniforms. She felt better still. There was a chance that this event might not get out of control after all.

Bird turned her attention back to the adults behind the table. One of them was Ellen Wells. Bird looked again. Ellen Wells? Was she from Justice for the Innocent? Bird could hardly take in this piece of information. Ellen had always been a positive influence in the area — helpful and engaged in charitable events. She wasn't the type to stir up trouble.

One of the two men with her was Ellen's husband, Jim. The other one looked an awful lot like the man who'd put the threatening letter in the Saddle Creek mailbox: the man who'd gone to Tanbark's bedside. Bird's face flushed and her knees weakened. She thought back to that night. Had he seen her at the hospital? If he had, he'd recognize her now, just days later. And what was he doing here, anyway? Why wasn't he in custody? Suddenly, staying hidden seemed like a very good idea.

Ellen picked up a microphone from the table. “Can everyone settle down, please? The food tent people have generously given us some time, so I'd like to begin. Quiet, please.”

A few people at the front stopped talking, but the rest of the room continued to hum with conversation.

Jim Wells took the microphone from his wife. “Please, people! This is important! Quiet!” People paid attention. He handed the mike back to Ellen.

“Thank you all for coming to lend support. My name is Ellen Wells and I'm the one who found poor Sandra Hall beaten and bleeding on the side of the road. God have mercy on her soul.”

Some people clapped while others murmured sympathetic “ohs.” There were even a few “amens.” Ellen let the noise subside before she resumed speaking.

“I'm overwhelmed at your numbers but not surprised. Your concern is our concern. There's a ruthless man at large, a man who fatally assaulted an innocent woman. He will do it again. Yet the police have done nothing except pass around a sketch and question a few people. Justice for the Innocent has done its own detective work and we have actively singled out suspects with the intention of forcing them into the open.”

Bird picked out Pete and Laura standing at the back with Hannah, Paul, Patty and Philip. The girls — Kimberly, Liz and Julia — stood together, right beside them. Paul grabbed two folding chairs and set them up for the Piersons.

Ellen continued. “We need your help. Our work is taxing, but we are tireless. We will get our man. We will avenge the death of Sandra Hall!”

A loud cheer rippled through the tent.

“I assure you, we had no intention of burning down the Linwood's barn. We set a small paper fire in a trash can under Pierre Hall's window. The goal was to scare him into confessing, if guilty. Unfortunately, the can must have fallen over, and the fire spread. We are deeply sorry about the outcome, but I promise you, it was unintentional.” Ellen put her hand over her heart. She seemed, to Bird at least, genuinely upset.

“The police have laid charges against people in our group, but this was an unfortunate accident! We ask that you sign this petition so the police will drop all charges and let us continue our efforts to find Sandra Hall's killer!” Ellen took a sip of water from a glass on the table as people applauded.“We have no intention of harming anything or anybody. We have one goal and one goal only — to put the guilty behind bars and get justice for the innocent!”

Again, cheers and claps rang out. Bird judged that the group at the front was now larger than before.

“If we have justice for Sandra Hall, we'll have justice for all!”

More applause. Louder cheering.

“If there's no justice for the death of an innocent woman, why fool ourselves into thinking that there'll be justice for any one of us? Please, please, sign the petition! We are doing everything in our power to help. A dangerous man is among us, and we must root him out!”

“We want to hear about the crazy man!” a deep voice called out over the applause.

“What are the police doing about him?” joined another.

“Where's he from?”

Bird listened as more and more people added their thoughts.

“Who is he, anyway?”

“He scares me the most!”

“Bring him in and let him face the music!”

“We can't let someone like that wander around loose!”

Ellen let the panic build for a minute, then called for order. “That's why we're here, folks. To find the killer and bring him to justice! There's another sheet beside the petition. Please sign it with your name and contact numbers. We'll call on you — trust me. You can make a difference.”

As Bird watched the crowd shuffle about and cheer, she noticed that Pete had risen from his chair. “Madame Chairman, would you answer a question or two?”

Ellen smiled with tense graciousness. Bird wondered if questions made her uneasy. “Of course. It's Mr. Pierson, isn't it? The cow farmer?”

“The same.”

It seemed to Bird that Ellen had tried to belittle him with her description, but Pete appeared not to notice.

“How have you chosen your suspects?” he asked.

“From the witness's composite sketch.”

“You mean yourself, of course?”

“Well, yes.” Ellen blushed, then spoke again. Her voice took on a defensive tone. “I was the only one there except for the perpetrator.”

“How well were you able to see this man from the road, when he was running away from you, up through the trees?”

“I saw his face clearly enough to help the police draw the sketch.” She cast a nervous glance at her husband.

“I see.” Pete cleared his throat. “Your group has named four men as suspects. All from your sketch?”

“Yes.”

“And in our country, people are presumed innocent until proven guilty?”

“Of course! But we can't sit on our hands!”

“I'm sure everyone agrees, but you're targeting all four of these men. What about the three innocent men in that group? Is there no justice for them? Or do you believe that they're all guilty?”

“Of course not.” Ellen's neck was beet red. “What are you getting at, Mr. Pierson? We have limited time here.”

“I'm getting at this. What is your definition of justice? If you're asking for our help, we have a right to know.”

Ellen did not reply.

“Do you feel it's quite all right to burn down a barn?” Pete elaborated. “To severely injure a man before proving his guilt?”

“That was unfortunate. I explained that it was a mistake. But let's not forget, Pierre Hall was abusive to Sandra when they were married!”

“But he's not being accused of that, is he? He was harassed and burned for having the bad luck to resemble a sketch that you created.”

Ellen could not find a way to answer. “I'm sorry you feel that way. You can't make an omelet without breaking some eggs. If that's all ...”

“That's not all,” said Pete clearly. “If you made a mistake about the barn, however unfortunate, might you not make other mistakes, with equally dire consequences?”

Ellen had gone so rigid that Bird wondered if she might fall over.

“One last thing.” Pete looked around the tent. “Is there anyone here who would have lit a fire beside a barn in this dry weather? Are you surprised that it spread? You called it unfortunate. I'd call it plain stupid.” He paused. “Let's leave this matter to the police, to be handled in an orderly, legal way.” Pete sat down.

A hush had fallen over the entire tent. Jim Wells took the microphone. “This is not the time for accusations, Mr. Pierson. It was an honest mistake. The only time you can be sure of not making mistakes is when you don't do anything, and we're doing something! We need your help, people. We need your support. Sign the petition so we can continue our work on your behalf. On society's behalf. On justice's behalf!”

Bird expected cheers, but now she saw hesitation on the faces in the crowd. Pete's words had changed the atmosphere. He'd put questions into the minds of people who hadn't taken the time to think for themselves.

The other organizer stepped forward and grabbed the microphone from Jim. “We can't leave this to the police, either! I'll tell you about the police! My brother Les was arrested and manhandled and treated like a common criminal! He should be out on bail, but the po ...”

Jim roughly took the microphone away.

He's not the man from the hospital, Bird thought with relief, he's that man's brother. Looks like his twin.

“Stop it, Hank!” Jim growled away from the mike. “You're not to speak about that.”

“I can speak if I want to!”

“Later.” Into the microphone, Jim explained. “Hank Crowley's brother, Les, was doing his best for our cause when the police arrested him. The matter will be before the courts, so we can't discuss it.” Jim looked at Hank pointedly. “Les's story will be told in due time, but right now we need your help. We have lots of signatures, but keep 'em coming. Thanks so much, folks. We're doing this for you! For us all! For justice!”

With astonishment, Bird watched what transpired next. It happened so fast she would have missed it if she hadn't been looking right at Philip that very second.

At the back of the tent, two men grabbed Philip Butler, one at each arm. One was short and bulky, the other tall and muscular.

Patty let out a scream. The police stepped forward, fully prepared to interfere, and faced the men down without a word spoken.

The men let Phil go, then shoved through the crowd up to the long table at the front of the room. They spun around to face the crowd.

“That's Philip Butler, folks!” shouted the heavy-set man, pointing a finger and shaking it at Phil. “Suspect-at-large.”

Bird watched the crowd. Some people appeared confused, some abashed, but a few were enjoying this.

“That man,” the taller man stated loudly, “was a policeman. I say was. There were charges against him and he quit the force. Suspicious, you say? He was identified from the sketch.”

Several people were nodding. Tension was rapidly building.

The stocky man took over. “Is he a suspect? Yes! What did the police do? Nothing! Are we going to try to get him to admit his crime?” He cupped his ear to the crowd.

“Yes!” a dozen voices chimed.

“If he's guilty, should he go to prison?”

“Yes!”

“Should they throw away the key?”

“Yes!”

The people who engaged in this dialogue got nearer and nearer with each response. The more uncertain people backed away. Bird clearly saw the division growing.

Then, at the back, Paul Daniels stood on a chair and shouted above the crowd. “We're decent law-abiding people, but we're letting these men incite ill will and violence. If we stand by and let this happen, we're no better than vigilantes!”

“What's wrong with that?” a bald man yelled out of the crowd. “Vigilantes stand up for justice! If we do nothing, we're cowards!”

Another male voice added, “I'd rather be a vigilante than a coward!”

Pete stood with Paul. “Democracy allows freedom of speech, like what we have here today. Democracy allows open meetings, like this one. What democracy does not allow is criminal activity, like defamation of character and arson.”

Again, people were disconcerted by Pete's remarks. Again, Bird watched expressions change from eager to confused.

Philip squared his jaw. “Thank you, Mr. Pierson, and Dr. Daniels. Yes, I had charges laid against me. But that was many years ago, and those charges were dropped. They were described as frivolous. We are a sorry lot indeed when we allow ourselves to get caught up in things like this, and in organizations like Justice for the Innocent.”

There was silence. Philip walked out of the tent into the open air. Patty ran to join him. The Piersons, Hannah, Paul and the girls followed after. The meeting was over.