Authors: Alison Hart
Jas patted the little horse’s face. He didn’t move when Dr. Danvers stuck him with the needle. She ran her gaze over every inch of his body. His fly-chewed sores were almost worse than his protruding bones.
Dr. Danvers capped the syringe. Pulling a pen from the pocket of his coveralls, he asked, “Got a name yet?”
“Don’t let Chase name him,” Jas said. “He wanted to call the new dog Rat.”
“How about Wonder?” Dr. Danvers suggested. “As in, it’s a Wonder he’s still alive.”
“I like the name,” Jas agreed.
“Then Wonder it is.” Miss Hahn wrote the name on the folder tab.
“Can you look at Rat—I mean, Hope—next?” Chase asked Dr. Danvers. The dog was quarantined in the stall next door. “She might have mange.”
“And Shadow’s due for a rabies vaccination,” Jas added. “And Ruffles needs his teeth checked.”
Miss Hahn laughed as Dr. Danvers nodded patiently. The veterinarian smiled at her, and her sun-brown cheeks turned red.
Chase gave Jas a knowing look. The two were convinced that Miss Hahn and Dr. Danvers were secretly in love with each other. Chase lowered his head. “Did you notice they’re wearing matching coveralls?” he whispered out of the side of his mouth, and Jas choked on a laugh.
“What’s so funny?” Miss Hahn asked, shooting a suspicious frown their way.
“Chase, being stupid as always,” Jas said quickly.
They left Wonder’s stall. The colt would be in quarantine for seven days. During that time, a volunteer would be assigned to lavish extra TLC on him. Neglected animals needed mental as well as physical rehabilitation.
One more thing Jas had learned living at the farm.
Dr. Danvers changed gloves before going into Hope’s stall. Chase was kneeling next to the dog. She was curled in a ball on a worn, clean blanket. She took one look at the vet and began to tremble.
Gently, Dr. Danvers prodded and probed her eyes, mouth, and body. “No mange. Just flea bites. Sure is skinny.”
“We gave her a flea bath this afternoon,”
Chase announced, as if they’d performed major surgery.
Jas pressed her fingers against her lips to hold back another laugh. Still, a snort escaped and he gave her an “I’ll get you later” look.
“Meet you at Shadow’s stall,” Jas told Dr. Danvers before heading from the barn. Although “barn” was an exaggeration, since it was a converted shed. The outside walls were unpainted boards, and the roof was rusted tin. Miss Hahn dreamily talked about a modern, quarantine barn with washable walls and floors, but it required money to make dreams a reality.
Outside the door were a spigot, a bucket, a trash can, a laundry basket, and strong soap. Jas washed her hands carefully, scrubbing under her fingernails. Then she pulled the protective shoe covers off her sneakers and tossed them in the basket.
The quarantine barn was surrounded by wire mesh fencing to keep the other animals safe. Sam waited for Jas by the exit gate. When he spotted her, his tail fanned the air excitedly.
“Hello, Sam,” Jas greeted as she opened the gate. The old shepherd pressed his nose against her pant legs and snuffled noisily. “Yes,
there’s a new dog in town. You’ll soon get to meet her.”
Shutting the gate, Jas waved at Lucy and Rand. The two volunteers were turning out the horses for the evening. Lucy was sixteen, a soon-to-be high school senior and model gorgeous. Rand was sixty, a rodeo-grizzled, retired bull rider. Lucy had helped Jas and Chase sneak onto High Meadows Farm. Fortunately, she hadn’t been captured on the surveillance tape.
Jas hurried to the barn, grabbed a halter and rope, and went into Shadow’s stall. He struck the wall with his hoof, anxious to get out. “Cool it.” She calmed him with a shoulder massage. “We’ve got to wait for Dr. Danvers.” She hoped Chase wouldn’t tag along; she wanted to talk to the vet, alone.
If Jas was ever going to find Whirlwind, she needed more information. Dr. Danvers had been High Meadows Farm’s veterinarian when she and Grandfather had lived there. He’d been the one to locate the identification microchip in Shadow’s neck that proved he was really Aladdin, and that led to the insurance fraud investigation. Now Jas was hoping that Dr. Danvers had some idea how to find Whirlwind.
“Jas?” She heard Dr. Danvers holler.
“Down here!”
When the veterinarian peered over the stall door, Shadow snorted and backed into the corner. “Quit being such a baby,” Jas scolded the gelding. “It’s just a shot.”
“He looks good,” Dr. Danvers said, opening the door. “You were right about his thyroid condition. The supplement has done wonders for his energy and his coat.” While the vet talked, he stepped nonchalantly to Shadow’s side and stuck the needle in his neck. “Done.”
Jas scratched the gelding’s chest. “See? That wasn’t so bad.”
“I’ll leave another container before I go.”
“Don’t forget Ruffles.” With Shadow prancing beside her, Jas followed Dr. Danvers down the aisle. “Let me turn this goof out and I’ll help you with her.”
“No need. Ruffles and I are buddies. Meet me by the truck and I’ll give you that supplement.”
Jas led Shadow to a large field that he shared with Jinx and two other geldings, Gambler and Cadet. She opened the gate and unbuckled the halter. When it slipped from his muzzle, Shadow
wheeled and raced toward the other three horses. All four took off, galloping down the hill. Gambler and Cadet were two-year-old Arabian geldings. They’d been rescued the past winter from a bare feed lot. Jas had seen the “before” photos. Now, after six months, they were plump and glossy.
Seconds later, the four horses raced back. Jinx, Cadet, and Gambler, too hot for a longer chase, dropped their heads to graze. Shadow trotted around them, his tail fanning behind, his chestnut coat glistening in the evening sun.
Jas remembered the first time she’d turned him out. He’d been so listless that she’d called him a plodding old school horse. What a difference.
“Jas!” Dr. Danvers stood at the back of his truck, holding up a plastic container.
She hurried over and took it from him. “Before you go …”
“You have some questions?” he guessed.
Jas nodded.
“First, I’ve got some not-so-good news for you.” Dr. Danvers frowned. “I still can’t find my old file on Aladdin that listed his microchip number, and …” He hesitated. “The clerk from the
insurance company is now saying that Shadow’s number doesn’t match Aladdin’s. That they aren’t the same horse.”
“What?” Jas exclaimed, even though she knew what had happened.
The clerk will say that the company made a mistake
. Hugh had paid them off.
“Let’s hope that the National Microchip Registry didn’t destroy their records.”
“Which should be enough proof, right?”
“That’s up to the lawyers.”
Frustrated, Jas drummed her fingers on the top of the container. “That means I
really
need to find Whirlwind. She’d be solid proof that Hugh kills horses for money. Only I have no clue where to look. I know that Hugh must have shipped her from High Meadows on June first. After that, I’m stumped. He could have sold her to anyone, anywhere.”
Dr. Danvers thought a minute, then said, “Hugh’s clients are scattered all over the United States. However, he would probably sell Whirlwind to someone who wouldn’t look too closely at the Jockey Club registration. If the horse killed in Whirlwind’s place was a Thoroughbred, Whirlwind might be using her registration. Or Hugh could have forged one.”
“Either way, Whirlwind would have a different name.”
“Right. She didn’t have an ID chip like Aladdin. I remember asking Hugh if he wanted me to insert microchips in his horses in case of theft. He scoffed and said he trusted the farm’s security system.” Dr. Danvers walked to the driver’s side and opened the truck door. “I bet he planned this latest scheme a long time ago, after he got away with it with Aladdin. He
wanted
Whirlwind to be impossible to trace.”
“Impossible?”
“I’m sorry, Jas.” He climbed into the truck. She stepped away as he shut the door. “Let’s hope the lawyers can nail Hugh for the scam with Shadow,” he said out the rolled-down window. “Hey”—he gave her a thumbs-up—“I’ll see you at the courthouse on Thursday for your hearing.”
“Sure,” Jas said, not sure at all. The words
impossible to trace
were pounding too loudly in her head.
“Yoo-hoo
. Earth to Jas?” A hand flapped in front of her face. Lucy was peering closely at Jas. Her long blond hair was in a neat ponytail, and her lip gloss, foundation, and mascara were photo-shoot ready despite the evening heat.
“We’ve got stalls to clean,” Lucy said, arching one perfectly plucked brow. “You all right? You’re white as a ghost.”
Quickly, Jas pretended to study her fingers. “No, darn it, I broke a nail. Major trauma.”
Lucy snorted through her perky nose.
“Rrright,”
she drawled, glancing at Jas’s chewed nails.
She followed Lucy to the barn, half listening as the older girl chattered about riding horses for some rich owner. “I need to make some money before school starts this fall. You know, senior prom, senior pictures … Oh, I guess you don’t know about all that since you’ll be a lowly freshman.”
Thanks for reminding me about school
, Jas thought sourly.
Stopping, Lucy shouted above the roar of the tractor, which Chase was driving down the aisle. “The lady’s paying me twenty bucks a horse. You’re not the only equestrienne around here.” She propped one fist on her cocked hip and faced Jas. “She’s Hugh’s neighbor. Does that bother you?”
“Should it?” Jas eyed Lucy. Despite her boasting, Lucy wasn’t a great rider, so if some
lady was paying her, the woman had to be clueless or desperate.
“Her farm’s on Mill Road, near High Meadows. It’s called Blissful Acres.” Lucy glanced around the barn. “Sure makes this place look like a dump.”
Jas bristled, even though she’d thought the same thing when she first arrived. She knew the owner of Blissful Acres, Mrs. Vandevender, whose pudgy horses were basically lawn ornaments.
Turning off the motor, Chase hopped off the tractor, which he’d parked at the end of the aisle. “Are you guys going to do any work?” he asked.
“Not for long,” Lucy said. “I’m off to Blissful Acres.”
“They won’t be blissful once you start riding there,” Chase joked, and Jas started laughing.
Lucy gave them both looks of disgust before heading into the supply room. “I guess she didn’t think that was funny,” Chase told Jas. “What’s she talking about, anyway?”
“Lucy’s gone to the dark side. She’s riding for money.”
“Are you surprised?” Chase grabbed the rake and pitchfork, which were leaning against the wall. “After she got a look at fancy High Meadows Farm, it was no turning back for her. Besides, how else is she going to pay for all that makeup she wears?” He held out the pitchfork. “Here, you pitch. I’ll rake. Lucy’s going to lime.”
Jas took the pitchfork and went into the first stall. Chase followed her. “No argument?” he asked. “No reminding Lucy that she limed yesterday so it’s your turn?”
“No argument.” Jas forked up a hunk of pee-soaked straw. The sharp smell made her nose sting and her eyes water, hiding her threatening tears. How would she find Whirlwind if the mare was
impossible
to trace?
As Chase raked manure into piles, he kept glancing her way. Finally he asked, “What were you and Dr. Danvers talking about before he left?” When she didn’t answer, he stopped raking. “No fair, Jas. If I’m going to be arrested because of that surveillance tape, I deserve to know what’s going on.”
Sighing, Jas leaned on the handle of the pitchfork. “Dr. Danvers said that finding Whirlwind will be impossible.”
“So? Dr. Danvers is a vet, not a detective.”
Jas stared at him. Chase was right. A detective might be able to track down Whirlwind. And Mr. McClain, Chase’s father, was an investigator with the Stanford Police Department. “Do you think your dad …?”
“I can ask him. He knows what’s going on. So if we’re going to nail Hugh and find Whirlwind, no more secrets. Deal?” His expression was so earnest, Jas had to smile.
“Deal.”
He started raking again. When he looked over and caught her still smiling at him, she blushed and braced herself for some major teasing.
But he only smiled, too, and Jas felt her insides flutter. Spinning around, she attacked a pile of manure. Chase was such a great friend. And she had needed a friend when she’d first arrived at Second Chance Farm. More importantly, now she trusted and
needed
him to help her find Whirlwind.
But that didn’t mean she was ready to trust him with her heart.
Jas flipped the page in her novel. It was about a girl’s infatuation with a vampire, only the girl acted so stupid and
in luv
, Jas couldn’t concentrate on the story.
It was Thursday, the day of her hearing. Jas wore a crisp white shirt, a denim skirt, and sandals, hoping to look appropriately repentant when she went before the judge. Still, she nervously twirled a strand of hair.
In front of her, Chase paced the hall of Stanford Municipal Court. Beside her on the bench, Miss Hahn completed paperwork. At the other end, Jas’s social worker, Miss Tomlinson, was talking on her cell phone.