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.”
