This time Dustin ran ahead of the others, just as he had that morning. Malachi, who was waiting by the water, looked at his watch. “The entire thing took place in under five minutes,” he said.
Olivia gazed around her and then back at the campsite.
“What is it?” Dustin asked.
“This just keeps getting worse.”
“Why? How?”
“Well, it really could have been anyone. Even Mariah,” Olivia said. “Although that would never have occurred to me if we hadn’t done our reenactment.... She could’ve been at the stream—and then looped around the campsite to get to the woods. And since we don’t know if anyone else was out before Dustin went racing off, one of the others could’ve gone to the stream and come back.” She paused. “I’m positive we can rule out the boys, but...”
“Don’t worry. There are more of us working on this now,” Malachi told her, slipping an arm around her shoulders.
“Let’s finish searching through the trees again, see if we can find anything else,” Abby said.
They returned to the woods; Dustin described what it had looked like where he’d found Mariah. “The, uh, cow pieces are gone now. I guess the coyotes came back and finished them off.”
“Probably,” Malachi agreed. “Let’s split the area into quadrants, start in the middle and we’ll each work outward.”
“What exactly are we searching for?” Olivia asked.
“Anything that doesn’t belong here,” Malachi said.
They explored in silence for a while, combing through the bushes, trying to identify anything out of place on the forest floor.
Suddenly Olivia let out a little cry.
“What is it?” Dustin asked, hurrying over to her.
“Maybe nothing, but...” She opened her hand. She was holding something red with a tiny needlelike point. The small object was in the shape of a horse. “This is one of the tacks we use to put notices up on the office bulletin board,” she said. “Someone might just have had one in a pocket.”
Dustin shook his head. “No, it wasn’t a random find, Olivia. This is where Frank Vine discovered the image of the general. I’d say that means someone—most likely from the Horse Farm—hung it here.”
“To lure Mariah out,” Malachi said, approaching them from the other side.
“So Mariah is innocent. One down.” Olivia raised a finger as though counting.
“Not necessarily.” Dustin shook his head again. “What if she put it here herself to make us believe her story?”
Olivia groaned in frustration. “How will we ever get anywhere?” she demanded.
“Well, Sydney was at the Horse Farm, watching over the place, right?” Malachi said. “Or...”
“Or was he?” Olivia finished for him.
“Maybe that’s something we can prove one way or the other,” Dustin suggested.
“We reach the solution by following every direction,” Malachi told her. “It was a good find, cousin. Now we know it wasn’t just left here by some college kid. That’s important—and it narrows down the possibilities.” They searched a while longer, with no further results, and started back.
En route, Dustin used his radio to call in; Frank Vine told him the night had been uneventful.
When they reached the Horse Farm, Drew and Sydney came out, hearing their arrival. Sammy came out, too, barking excitedly. Olivia immediately dismounted and captured the big dog in a hug, sternly ordering him not to jump.
“Anything?” Drew asked anxiously.
“Nope,” Dustin said. “Anything here?”
“Quiet as a tomb all night.”
“Drew, I heard people say that Aaron always rode Gargantua,” Dustin continued. “Is that right? The day Marcus died, was Aaron riding him?”
Drew raised his eyebrows in evident surprise. “Yeah, it’s true. Aaron—when he went riding, which wasn’t that often—always took Gargantua. He’s a big horse but he’s gentle. I once saw him let himself trip rather than step on Aaron when he’d fallen off. He’d gotten on him bareback, which was kind of foolish for Aaron. I wouldn’t call him an incompetent rider, but he wasn’t the best by far.”
“Where was Gargantua before everyone saddled up to go looking for Marcus Danby that day?” Dustin asked.
“In his stall,” Drew said. “I think.”
Sydney had been listening, Dustin realized, because he walked up to the two of them. “Drew, no. Remember? We had all the horses out in the pasture.”
“Sydney’s right,” Drew said. “I remember now. We had to round them all up to get saddled.”
“Is it important?” Sydney asked.
“I don’t know. Do you ever worry about the horses when they’re out in the pasture? I’m sure you don’t notice all of them all the time. Have you ever worried about one of them being stolen? Could one be stolen?”
“We’ve never had any horses stolen,” Sydney replied. “I guess all the ones we have now are known by people in the area, but we’ve also brought in rescues. Some could be dangerous—unless you knew the horse, knew the problem and the animal’s behavior. Like Shebaan. She was a kicker when we got her. But the first thing we teach anyone who comes here is that you don’t stand in kicking distance behind a horse. Any horse.”
“Should we be worried?” Drew asked.
“No, no,” Dustin assured them. “I wasn’t suggesting that. But could someone, say, use a horse and put it back in the pasture without anyone noticing?”
Drew looked at Sydney; Sydney looked back at Drew.
Then both men looked at Dustin and shrugged.
“What does all this mean? Does it matter?” Drew asked worriedly.
“I’m not sure. Maybe,” Dustin said evasively. “Thanks, you guys.” He left Chapparal with the men and made his way to the office.
Sloan was standing behind Jane Everett at the door, waiting for them. “Anything?” Sloan asked as they entered and shut the door behind them.
“More confusion,” Olivia said, going straight to the coffeepot, Sammy following her every move.
“We spoke with the general,” Olivia said. She poured her coffee and sipped it.
“And?”
“He didn’t see a face, but he did see someone running from the ravine when Marcus was killed.”
“And he saw a horse,” Dustin filled in for her.
“Which horse?”
“Gargantua,” Olivia said.
“Gargantua—the massive horse, I take it?” Jane asked.
Olivia nodded.
Dustin turned to Olivia. “Could he just have disappeared from a pasture and reappeared? Drew and Sydney didn’t seem certain.”
“Well, I guess it’s possible,” she said. “You see and do things every day and you don’t really pay much attention to your surroundings. We often keep the horses in the pastures, and we’ve never had to worry about them. Sometimes they hang around the fences. Sometimes they cluster in the corner by the trees. When I get here every morning, at least some of them are usually out in the pasture, unless they’re being brushed for a session or saddled for a ride. They’re always in their stalls at night, but during the day...” She shrugged. “Honestly, you’d have to ask me to count them. Otherwise, I’d assume they were all where they’re supposed to be.”
“So, it is possible someone took him without being seen,” Dustin concluded.
“I guess so,” Olivia said unhappily.
“Anything else?” Sloan asked.
“We found one of our horse-shaped thumbtacks out in the woods. We’re assuming that means whoever tacked up the image of the general brought it from here—and probably came from here.”
“I believe I’ve learned the source of the image,” Jane said. She sat on the sofa with her laptop and opened it. “Five weekends ago, there was an art show at the Opryland Mall in Nashville. It was kind of a big deal. They had name bands playing there, as well as a contest for artists to create props for haunted houses.” She turned her computer around. There was the gauze cloth, with the watercolor and chalk image of the general. A young man of perhaps twenty-two was standing next to it; a judge stood beside him, handing him an award. “The kid who won is a senior at Vanderbilt. His work will go into a haunted house being set up in an old farmhouse near Murfreesboro. His prize was a grant of five thousand.”
“Have you contacted him?” Dustin asked.
Jane nodded. “His name is Simon Latinsky and you can visit him this afternoon. He rents a room on Capri Street. He’s expecting you anytime before five. Oh, by the way—the original, the one we’re seeing in this picture, is already in the haunted house. But he did a few practice runs, which he sold.”
Dustin looked at Olivia, meeting her eyes. “Why don’t we go talk to the budding artist?”
“Okay with me,” she murmured.
“Meanwhile, I’ll spend some time with Sydney and Drew,” Malachi said. “See if I can find out anything else.”
“Maybe one of you could drop by the café,” Dustin suggested. “Delilah is a veritable fount of information and sometimes some of the kids from Parsonage House go there. Oh, if you run into Coot, say hi.”
“I’m going to check up on the whereabouts of your fellow therapists, Mason and Mariah—and I’ll stop by and introduce myself to Sandra Cheever,” Sloan said with a grimace. “I’ve already talked to her on the phone a few times.”
“Really? Why?” Olivia asked.
“According to the last will Aaron Bentley wrote, you’re his executor. And Sandra wants to plan the funeral. Oh, by the way—she quits.”
Olivia groaned. “Another funeral...and I’m not surprised she wants to handle it. All she had to do was talk to me. I’m happy to let her make the arrangements.”
