Shadow Horse (17 page)

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Authors: Alison Hart

BOOK: Shadow Horse
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YOU

RE RIGHT ABOUT NEEDING MORE PROOF
, Jas,” Chase said after breakfast the next morning. “We’re only
guessing
that Hugh scammed his insurance company.”

They were carrying a bale of hay out to the shed in the back pasture. The weather had been so dry that the grass had quit growing.

“I know,” Jas said, feeling discouraged. She dropped the bale when they reached the shed. Chase pulled a Swiss Army knife from his back pocket and cut the twine. Then they threw the hay into the rack. Already, the four horses who shared the field had ambled into the shed and were grabbing mouthfuls of hay that had fallen to the ground.

“Hey, Spots.” Jas scratched the pinto on his fat neck. “I heard you’re being adopted this weekend.”

“A family with twin daughters. He’ll definitely get lots of TLC.”

Jas smiled sadly. “That’s nice. Only …”

“You’ll miss the ugly plug?” Chase guessed. Picking up the twine, he wound it into a ball, then stuck it in his pocket.

She nodded.

“That seems hard to believe considering you’re such a horse snob,” he teased.

“Oh, shut up.” Jas threw the last section of hay at him. He ducked and it hit Spots, who snorted and bolted from the shed.

“Stampede!” Chase joked as he ran from the shed with the horse. Jas raced him to the barn, and they collapsed on the bales in the aisle, completely out of breath. Sam came up, his tongue hanging, and flopped down on top of Jas’s feet.

“So where are we going to get proof?” Jas asked. Leaning back on his elbows, Chase stretched his long legs in front of him. “How about Phil or Danvers? They’re probably the only ones besides Hugh who really knew Aladdin.”

“There’s also Reaves. He knows where Shadow came from.”

“Reaves? Hah. He’d never tell the truth.”

“Well, Phil’s out, that’s for sure.”

Chase pulled a stalk of hay from the bale and stuck it between his lips. “Then it’s Danvers. And you’re in luck,” he said with a twinkle in his blue eyes. “He’s coming over for dinner tonight.”

“A big date, huh?”

Chase nodded, and they both giggled.

“Well, that’s good. Before dinner, I’ll show Danvers the album. You can keep Miss Hahn occupied in the kitchen.”

“Hmm.” He wrinkled his forehead as if absorbed in deep thought. “I could drop the salad on the floor.”

Jas laughed. “I knew you’d be a good partner in crime.”

Pulling the hay from between his lips, Chase held it between two fingers like a cigarette. “Just call me Bond,” he said in a British accent. “James Bond.”

That night, Jas wore the only dress she owned. It was made of a soft, clingy fabric. The skirt was short, showing off her now tan and muscular legs. When she came down the
steps barefoot, Chase’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Um … what happened to your jeans?” he asked.

“Never mind.” Linking her arm with his, she steered him away from the kitchen door. “Is Danvers here?”

“In the kitchen, standing
very
close to Miss Hahn, tasting spaghetti sauce.”

“Okay. Here’s the plan.” She lowered her voice. “Call him into the living room for something. I’ll run up and get the album.”

Chase nodded with utmost seriousness. “And I’ll drop the salad.”

“Right.” He was bent slightly to hear her, and without warning, he suddenly angled his head and kissed her. When he pulled back, he was grinning like a little kid. “Sorry. I couldn’t help myself. It’s all this intrigue.”

“Right, it’s the intrigue,” Jas repeated, too surprised to say anything else. Her heart was beating like a drum, and when he went into the kitchen, she thumped up the steps, touching her lips.
Did he really just kiss me?

As she came down, Jas heard a loud crash from the kitchen, then, “Oh, gee, sorry, Miss Hahn. I’m as clumsy as a horse wearing high heels.”

“You wanted to see me?” Danvers asked. Jas could barely recognize him. He was sitting on the sofa sipping iced tea, wearing khakis and a short-sleeved shirt instead of his baggy coveralls.

“Yes. Now, I know you and Phil vowed to drop the whole Whirlwind thing, and this isn’t about her. Well, it sort of is, but I don’t want you to cut me off until I show you everything.”

“Phil
said
he
wasn’t going to pursue the matter anymore,” Danvers corrected her. “I just ran out of time and energy.”

Hope fluttered in Jas’s chest as she sat down next to him. Maybe he
would
help. “It’s about Aladdin,” she told him. Opening the album, she showed him the picture and the article.

“Yeah, I remember him,” Danvers said. “Hugh was crushed when the horse died.”

“So crushed that he immediately ran out and bought two horses worth a million dollars,” Jas said sarcastically.

Danvers was about to take another drink, but he lowered his glass. “What?”

“Grandfather and I have this theory.” Leaning closer, she told him their idea.

Danvers frowned. “So what you’re saying is Hugh killed some horse that looked like Aladdin and collected the insurance money? Then sold the real Aladdin somewhere overseas for big bucks?”

Jas nodded excitedly.

Danvers hunched forward, his frown deepening. “I hope you haven’t told anyone else this wild idea of yours, Jas.”

Her excitement faded. “Why?”

“Because you’re making a serious and unfounded accusation. Hugh could really make trouble for you.”

Jas pressed her lips together. “You’re on his side, too! I should have known not to trust you.” She stood up, catching the album before it fell off her lap.

Grasping her wrist to stop her, Danvers spoke in a tense voice. “This has nothing to do with trust, young lady. This has to do with the facts. Hugh bought Aladdin from Holland and had him imported. Most European horses have a computer microchip implanted in their necks for identification. When Aladdin died, I used a scanner to check his microchip number. The horse that died of colic five years ago
was
Aladdin.”

Stunned by what he was saying, Jas sank down onto the sofa. “That can’t be! Because Aladdin is
here
, in Miss Hahn’s barn.”

Danvers’s woolly eyebrows shot up.

“What?”

“Shadow
is
Aladdin.”

“Jas. Get a grip. Aladdin
died
. There’s no way Hugh could have faked that microchip.”

“No way?” Jas croaked. “Couldn’t he have taken the chip out—”

“No!” Danvers said firmly. “Once they’re implanted in the neck, they’re almost impossible to remove. And it would be just as impossible to reinsert it in another horse’s neck.”

Jas fell back against the sofa pillows, drained. If what Danvers said was true, then her whole idea about Shadow
was
just an obsession. Hugh must have thrown out the horse’s name to divert her from digging into Whirlwind’s death.

But she wasn’t giving up yet. She had one more idea to run by Danvers. “So if Shadow by some wild chance is Aladdin … he would still have that microchip in his neck, right?”

Setting down his glass, Danvers threw his hands in the air. “I give up. What is it going to take to get you to drop this nutty idea?”

“Easy. Use your scanner tonight to see if there’s a microchip in Shadow’s neck.”

Danvers blew out a breath of frustration. “Jas, that’s crazy. There’s one chance in a million, no, a
billion
, that what you’re saying is true.”

“And what if by some chance I’m right?” she countered.

Danvers scowled at her, then threw up his hands again. “Okay, I give up. I’ll scan Shadow’s neck tonight.”

“Yes!” Jas punched the air with her fist.

“But even if he has a microchip, that doesn’t mean he’s Aladdin. I’ll have to find my old file on Aladdin to see if the numbers match up. Once a horse dies, his number is deleted from the national registry.”

“Thank you.” Jas beamed at him.

“Promise me one thing, though,” he said sternly.

“What?”

“We get to eat dinner first.” He patted his stomach. “The spaghetti sauce tasted terrific.”

Jas grinned. “And just wait until you taste the salad!”

“Chase, you’re going to have to get Shadow and bring him into the yard,” Jas said as they
stood side by side at the sink, washing dishes after dinner.

“Why me?” he asked, then immediately answered his own question. “Oh, right—lockdown time.”

“I can’t go into the barn this late with this stupid thing on my ankle.” Annoyed, she kicked at her leg.

Chase dried his hands on a dish towel. “What are you going to tell Miss Hahn?”

“How about if you ask her to take you home. That will get rid of her. I don’t want her snooping around.”

“Why not?”

“I have my reasons.”

“Okay, only promise you’ll call me later and tell me what happened.”

“It’s a deal.” She smiled shyly at him, knowing that once they got on the phone, they would talk forever. Jas couldn’t remember ever having a friend like Chase. Then she remembered the kiss, and a warm flush spread up her neck.

“Miss Hahn!” Chase hollered into the living room. “I gotta get home.”

“Now?” Miss Hahn asked.

“I have to be home by, uh, seven-thirty,” he fibbed.

Miss Hahn sighed. “Oh, all right.”

“Now quick,” Jas hissed as she finished drying a plate. “Run and get Shadow. I’ll meet you at the gate.”

Chase threw her the dish towel, then bounded from the kitchen.

Jas busied herself with the dishes. “He’ll meet you out by the van,” she told Miss Hahn ten minutes later when she came in with her purse and car keys. Danvers was right behind her.

“Dr. Danvers, while they’re gone, could you check Shadow’s leg for me? I think it was puffy from jumping the other day. Chase is bringing him around.”

“In the dark?” Miss Hahn said, but then Chase yelled “woo-hoo” from the backyard, and she hurried out the door.

Jas dried her hands, slipped on her sneakers, and followed them out. Shadow stood in the light from the back porch, his head up and eyes glowing. Chase was hopping on one foot.

“Hey, big boy, it’s all right,” Jas soothed as she crossed the lawn.

“It’s not all right,” Chase grumbled. “The big clod stepped on my foot.”

“I wasn’t talking to you.” Jas yanked the
lead from his hand. “Would you get her out of here?” she said, pointing to Miss Hahn.

Still grimacing, he hobbled after Miss Hahn, mumbling, “If I knew detective work was going to be this hard …”

Jas let Shadow graze while she waited for Danvers to get the scanner from his pickup. The big horse’s ears flicked at the unfamiliar sight of an electronic scanner. When Danvers came up holding it, he snorted anxiously.

“It transmits a radio signal to the microchip,” Danvers explained to Jas as he turned it on and began passing it over Shadow’s neck. Pinning his ears, the big horse danced sideways.

Jas shortened her hold on the lead and reassured him with a massage on his withers. “You’re all right, you big baby.”

“If there’s a microchip in his neck, it will signal its number back to the reader. You’ll see it here on this screen.”

“Then you can compare the number to the one in Aladdin’s file?”

“Right,” Danvers said, giving her a doubtful look. “Though the odds are zero that it will match. And if he does have a number and it doesn’t match, I’m going to have to call it in
to the national registry. It may match another horse. Maybe one that was reported stolen.”

“Oh.” Jas’s mouth went dry. She hadn’t thought about that. What if Shadow belonged to someone else? Then she would probably have to give him back. Now she hoped more than ever that she was right.

“Hey! I’ve got a number,” Danvers said, sounding surprised. “He does have a microchip.”

He showed Jas the digits illuminated on the reader’s screen. “I’ll write it down. In the morning, I’ll have my office assistant hunt up Aladdin’s old file. I’ll call you when I know something.”

Jas nodded. When Danvers went back to his truck, she burrowed her nose in Shadow’s mane and listened to the cropping noise he made as he tore at the grass.

Maybe she was making a big mistake. In her zeal to get Hugh, what if she lost Shadow? She’d already lost Whirlwind. She didn’t think she could stand losing Shadow, too.

Twenty-one

THE NEXT MORNING, JAS GAVE SHADOW A BATH.
“Hold still, you big gorilla,” she scolded as she sponged water on his sweaty back. Shaking his head playfully, he switched his tail, then shook like a dog, spraying Jas with water.

It was already eleven o’clock, and Jas hadn’t heard from Dr. Danvers. She’d phoned once, but he hadn’t returned her call. The waiting was driving her crazy.

“Hey!” She jerked on Shadow’s lead, and for a second he stood quietly. Then the geese burst from the barn, and with a snort of terror the big horse leaped in the air.

Jas gritted her teeth. She knew she should have ridden him for two hours this morning instead of one. Then she could have given him a really good workout. But she didn’t want to
miss Danvers’s call, so she cut Shadow’s workout short.

As Jas whisked the excess water off with a sweat scraper, she studied Shadow from head to tail. He was so powerful and athletic. With the right training, he could turn into a winning jumper.

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