The girls squinted into the shadows, waiting for their eyes to adjust as they entered the gloom of the barn. It was full daylight outside but the only light that came in to the building was through the double doors and the slatted windows up by the rafters. During the summer, the large glassless windows let in light and air, but during the winter, they were closed by heavy wooden shutters so that the icy winds that blew up off the lake didn’t get to the horses. Still, it was enough light to work with and they knew from experience that their eyes would adjust quickly enough.

  “You get the pitch fork and the wheelbarrow,” Shay said to Larissa, pointing to the equipment that was stacked against the first of the ten stalls that lined the opposite side of the barn. “Then muck out the stalls and dump the wheel barrow behind the back of the barn. You’ll see the big mound of stuff when you take it out.” Shay pointed to the wall that held the pitch forks, lined up neatly and hanging on nails beside the shovels just inside the front door.

  “You mean there’s a big pile of frozen horse poop back there?” Larissa asked.

  “Yup,” Shay said. “Mr. Fletcher collects it all winter and then sells it to garden shops in the spring.”

  “Wow, I didn’t know people would actually pay for that stuff,” Larissa said. “Who’d have thought, eh?” Larissa paused and her wide blue eyes opened as if they had seen had ghost. “Hey, what if we find a clue today? Maybe we’ll find something that will lead to the attacker and we’ll solve the mystery.”

  Shay looked at the excited girl, barely holding back her exasperation that the younger girl could be so silly and immature. “What happened to Mr. Fletcher is a crime for the police, not a mystery for us. We aren’t some dorky girl detectives club.”

  “Shay‘s right,” Grace said. “This isn’t a game or a television show, its real life and Mr. Fletcher really got hurt.” She turned back to her friends, a thoughtful look on her face. “Still, you can’t help but think about it. You know, it occurred to me that maybe whoever did this didn’t mean to hurt Mr. Fletcher. Maybe he was in the barn and Mr. Fletcher caught him by surprise. My dad thinks that’s what happened too, but my mom thinks it was some crazy psycho running around Proctor attacking people,” Grace said laughingly. “But you know how my parents are,” she said. “They just have to disagree with each other on principle.”

  “Does your mom think more people are going to get hurt by the attacker?” Larissa asked.

  “No, she just wanted to disagree with my dad. Disagreeing with each other is kind of their hobby,” Grace laughed. “If she really thought that, she would never have let me come here today.”

  “The police think Mr. Fletcher probably walked into something that wasn’t supposed to be going on, too. But why would anyone be here in the first place?” Shay was curious, even though she didn’t like to admit it to the others. “They weren’t here to steal a horse because there isn’t any way to get a horse out of Proctor unless you ride them over the mountains or take them on the ferry. The mountains are impassable this time of year, and you sure can’t sneak a horse onto a boat.”

  “What about the equipment?” Larissa said. “There’s a tractor here, and lots of farm stuff. What if someone wanted to steal those?”

  “Same as the horses,” Grace said. “Someone would recognize it sooner or later. All the farm land here is open to one road or another. You can’t steal anything as big as a tractor and keep it secret for long, and there isn’t any way to get it out of town. Besides, Mr. Fletcher hardly ever uses that stuff. Most of its so rusty and broken it’s not even much good for parts.”

  “Ooh,” Shay was startled by sudden rough touch of Freckle’s nose, rubbing up and down her back, as if to remind her that the horses were waiting for their food and water. “I’m sorry, girl,” she said, turning to scratch the horse’s head. “Come on, you guys, we came here to take care of the horses, not to play detective. Let’s get to work.”

  They went to their tasks. The girls worked hard but they still had fun gossiping about kids at school and the other teens in Proctor. Grace talked about her math grades; she was worried that she wouldn’t get into medical school if she didn’t get her marks up, and she wanted advice on how to get her mom to let her put real dye on her hair.

  Shay was surprised that Grace put so much thought into her future. It had never occurred to Shay to think about life beyond the next foster home or the new social worker. Her parents never thought beyond the next drug buy, or the next meal, and they sure hadn’t taught her to think about a future. What should I do with my life when I finish high school in a few years, Shay wondered. She’d been sent to lots of counselors who all wanted to talk to her about her past, but no one had ever talked to her about her long-term plans or life after foster care. Shay made a mental note to start thinking about a career, and where she wanted her life to go.

  The morning went quickly, and by the time Dave arrived they had cleaned the stalls and laid fresh hay, topped the water and the feed and Curry-combed most of the horses.

  The girls jumped into the SUV, glad for the warmth of the large vehicle. Dave put the SUV in gear and drove slowly down the ice covered road. “Everything go okay today?” he asked. “Your coming to our house for lunch, I guess,” he nodded toward Grace, smiling.

  “Thanks,” she said. “That would be great.”

  “Listen,” Dave said, “the police called again and they’ve spoken to some of the other parents as well. We just can’t let you kids keep coming here. I’m afraid this has put the kybosh on you girls going to Fletcher’s as long as some creep is still at large.”

  “What? That’s not fair!” Shay almost shrieked. She took a deep breathe, trying to calm herself. Another thing she had learned from her parents was that no one listens to a yeller. At least, she had never listened to her parents when they were yelling, and surely they had never listened to her. “There are three of us, right? Nobody’s going to do anything to us! We aren’t little kids; we can run if someone strange shows up,” she said, looking at the other girls for confirmation. They nodded quickly.

  “Grace, I’m sorry, but I’ve talked with your dad, and he’s of the same mind as me,” Dave said patiently. “I know you girls are worried about the horses, and I know how important they are to you, but this is too serious. Even if the attacker doesn’t come back, you could get hurt riding or being around the horses without adult supervision. We can’t take that kind of risk with your safety.”

  “Then why did you let us come here this morning if you were just going to change your mind?” Shay asked indignantly.

  “Well Shay, sometimes adults make mistakes too and my mistake was to let you come here this morning. I’ll call Mr. Fletcher and tell him he has to make his own arrangements for the care of the horses. The old guy might just have to open his wallet and pay someone to help out for a change. Whatever happens, this is for adults to work out, not you kids.”

  Shay sat back in her seat, staring straight ahead. She knew things had been going too well. First she had a home she liked, then she had the horses, and finally, she had friends. Now, the horses were being taken away from her, and she knew in her heart that the rest would soon follow. As long as she could remember, her life had felt like a stack of cards, barely balanced, as if it had been designed to fall, and as soon as one of the cards was pulled, they all tumbled. If the horses were gone, then the rest would go, too, because that was how her life worked. Another lesson her parents had taught Shay was that nothing lasts, not the good stuff and not the bad stuff. The only difference, Shay thought, was that the good stuff never lasted as long as the bad.

  Shay could feel someone staring at her and she glanced over at Larissa, who was, indeed, looking intently back at Shay. Shay saw that the cheeks of the younger girl were wet with silent tears running out of her blue eyes, like a soft rain falling from the bright winter sky.

  Shay didn’t know how Larissa had ended up a foster kid, especially when she had grandparents somewhere. As far as Shay was concerned,
there was never a good reason for a kid ending up without parents to take care of him or her, but that had happened to both her and Larissa and it created a special bond between the two of them. They had both been victims of whatever winds their parents and social workers blew their way. But, no more! Shay James wasn’t going to sit back and let everything that was currently good in her life slip away. If she wasn’t allowed near the horses because some creep was running around on the loose, then she was going to find the creep. This time, she wasn’t going to just sit there and let others pull away at her stack of cards. Grace and Larissa didn’t know it yet, but dorky or not, the Detectives Club had just been formed. Shay clamped her jaw shut, and looked at Larissa, giving her the thumbs up sign. It was going to be very different this time…

  Chapter Five

  The Plan Develops

 
Brenda McCreight's Novels