Shadow Horse Page 10

  As soon as Jas was born, Iris had quit high school to work at the racetrack. For the next two years, she jockeyed, which was a life unfit for a mother. So she’d given up all rights, and Jas’s grandparents eagerly adopted her. After that, Iris moved to Florida, and except for letters and Christmas cards, Jas had lost track of her.

  Not that she’d cared. With her grandparents’ love, she’d pushed her mother out of her mind, even though it wasn’t always easy.

  “Any questions before I leave? Any problems with the ankle bracelet?” Ms. Tomlinson asked. “You’ve been on probation now for four weeks, and Mrs. Weisgerber reports that everything’s been fine.”

  “No problems. When is my next hearing?”

  “Probably the middle of August.”

  Jas shot to her feet. “But that’ll be more than forty-five days!” she protested. “I’m supposed to be back in court the beginning of August.”

  Ms. Tomlinson nodded. “I know.” She patted the seat of Jas’s chair. “Sit down and let me explain.”

  Jas sat slowly with a stiff spine.

  “There’s a reason for delaying the hearing. I’ve talked to Dr. Bindera. She thinks your grandfather can be released at the beginning of August. Social Services needs to get him settled in an apartment so we can recommend that you be placed with him.”

  “Oh,” Jas said sheepishly. “That’s actually great news.”

  “But, Jas, I need to warn you.” Ms. Tomlinson wadded up a tissue and looked uncomfortable. “If your grandfather’s in no condition to take care of you, then you may have to stay in foster care.”

  Jas whipped one hand up like a stop sign. “I don’t want to hear it. He’s going to be okay.”

  Ms. Tomlinson dipped her head. “Just so you understand.” Standing, she closed her briefcase. “I’m going to report in to Miss Hahn, so I’ll see you in several weeks.”

  Once Ms. Tomlinson was gone, Jas made a fist and pounded the table. Of course Grandfather was going to be fine. He had to be fine. She loved him too much, and there was no way she was going to stay in foster care forever.

  Especially since my mother doesn’t want me. Anger rushed through Jas’s veins. If Ms. Tomlinson had contacted Iris in Florida, then she must know that her father was sick and in a nursing home. She must know that her daughter had been convicted of a crime and was in foster care.

  How could she not care?

  Hugging her arms around her chest, Jas struggled against the rage that threatened to engulf her. Her mother had disappointed her so many times that by now Jas knew what to do.

  She had to think about how much her grandmother had loved her and how much her grandfather did love her.

  Forget her. Forget her, Jas silently chanted. Concentrate on Grandfather and Shadow … and getting out of foster care as soon as possible.

  “This horse has big strong hooves with a good wall,” Pete the blacksmith announced from underneath Shadow’s belly. He had the horse’s left front leg anchored between his thighs as he filed the hoof’s rough edges.

  “Do you think just front shoes will be okay?” Jas asked. “I can’t afford all four.”

  “Sure.” Dropping the foot, the blacksmith straightened and rubbed the small of his back. “Glad he’s the last today.”

  When Pete went out to his truck, Jas stroked Shadow’s neck. He stood quietly, chewing the end of the lead line when he got restless, pinning his ears back when the blacksmith walked in front of him.

  “You’re such a faker,” Jas teased.

  “Lucky I got his size,” Pete said, holding up two shoes when he came back in.

  “You don’t have many horses with hooves his size?” she asked.

  “Nope, not at all.”

  Jas shifted from foot to foot, wanting to ask Pete a dozen questions. According to Chase, Pete had been shoeing forever. There was always a chance he might know something about Shadow or Aladdin.

  “Do you know Hugh Robicheaux?” Jas asked.

  “Nope.”

  “Have you ever seen a horse like Shadow around the area?” Pete had clients up and down the Shenandoah Valley.

  “Nope. Would have remembered a horse this big who wasn’t a draft breed. Where’d Miss Hahn get him?”

  “The auction at Front Royal. A guy named Reaves sold him.”

  Pete humphed. “Reaves, huh. That guy would cheat his mother. Word has it that a lot of the horses he buys and sells are hot.”

  “You mean stolen?”

  “Yeah. He has a place in the hills in Page County. Turns out that he keeps the horses he buys in a field until he has a truckload of them. Then he takes them to the auction for quick money,” said Pete.

  “Looking at these old nail holes, this horse had shoes on all four feet not too long ago,” he continued.

  “How long ago?”

  “About eight or nine weeks, which means Reaves didn’t have him long. He doesn’t spend money on feed, much less shoes.”

  Jas remembered what Danvers had said about Shadow’s condition. Judging from the horse’s grown-out rough coat and the weight loss, Danvers had guessed that he’d been sick for at least three months. That meant he’d been sick when Reaves bought him.

  Jas knew that a thyroid condition in horses was unusual. So when Shadow couldn’t perform anymore and his owners had no idea why, and the vet bills began to pour in, his owners must have dumped him.

  “Poor guy,” Jas crooned, kissing him on his velvety muzzle. But truthfully, she was glad he’d been dumped, because there was no way his former owners could have loved him as much as she did.

  Reaching under his forelock, she scratched an itchy spot. He wiggled his lips with delight. Jas laughed at his silly expression. But then her smile quickly faded. Although she’d been pretending that Shadow was her horse, she knew he wasn’t. He was Miss Hahn’s. Although Jas didn’t trust her, she knew that if it hadn’t been for Miss Hahn and her crazy farm, Shadow would never have had his second chance.

  Seventeen

  “GRANDFATHER!” JAS’S MOUTH FELL OPEN IN surprise. Using a walker for support, Grandfather met Jas at the front door of the nursing home.

  He grinned like a little kid. “Ow do you like my new wheels?” he crowed.

  “I love them! How long have you been walking?”

  “Two ays. To surprise oo.”

  Jas kissed his soft, saggy cheek. “You surprised me all right.”

  Dressed in his jeans, suspenders, and denim shirt, he almost looked like his old self. Not that either of them would ever be the same again.

  Moving the walker in a circle, he slowly started back toward his room. He made his way down the hall, first setting the walker in front of him, then sliding his feet forward.

  “Is Phil here?” Jas asked.

  “No,” he puffed. He was stooped over the walker, his arms trembling. The short trip had exhausted him.

  When they were almost to his room, Jas ran ahead and pushed his wheelchair to the doorway. “Here. You look like you’ve had enough.”

  She maneuvered it behind him. With a groan, he sank into the seat. “Thank oo.”

  “Whew. That was quite an adventure!” Jas wiped her brow, feeling almost as worn out as he did. “I’m so proud of you. You’ve made such terrific progress,” she said as he pushed his chair into his room, which was sparsely furnished with two twin beds, a small dresser, and a plastic-covered chair.

  “I … have … made … good … progress.” Jas’s grandfather pronounced each word slowly but perfectly. Jas grinned, and when he grinned back, both sides of his mouth tipped up.

  “There you guys are,” said Phil as he hurried into the room with a long box under his arm. Jas’s heart skipped a beat. Did he bring a photo of Aladdin?

  “I have a present for you. From Hugh.” He set the box on Grandfather’s lap. “I can’t stay,” he rushed on. “Hugh and I are headed to Kentucky for two days.”

  “What about the picture of Aladdin?” Jas asked. Phil’s face grew tight. “I di
dn’t bring one. Jas … um. Look, I think you need to drop this obsession of yours.”

  “Obsession! You call finding Whirlwind’s killer an obsess—?”

  “Jas!” Grandfather’s sharp voice cut her off. “Enough.”

  Openmouthed, Jas stared at him. Had he given up, too?

  “He’s right, Jas,” Phil agreed. “The issue is dead.”

  Jas narrowed her eyes. “You sound like you’re on Hugh’s side,” she accused, noticing that for the first time since she could remember, Phil wasn’t carrying his John Deere cap. Instead, he was clutching a tweed sport cap similar to the one Hugh wore.

  Phil shook his head wearily. “No, I’m not. I’m just trying to be realistic. Whirlwind is dead. Nothing will bring her back. Besides, I have no idea what Aladdin has to do with her death.” Hastily, he patted Grandfather’s shoulder. “Karl, I’ll visit when we get back. Good-bye, Jas.”

  She didn’t reply, and when he left, her spirits tumbled. She couldn’t believe Phil had turned traitor. Who would help her now?

  Grandfather held up the box. “Let’s ook at the present.”

  Jas helped him open it. Inside was a polished silver-handled cane.

  “Andsome,” Grandfather said as he tapped the rubber-tipped end on the floor.

  “It’s just a payoff from Hugh the murderer,” Jas groused.

  Grandfather winked at her. “Don’t worry, oo’ll get your ph-photo.”

  “How?”

  “Hugh’s album.”

  “That’s right. You helped him keep his photo album up to date. Where is it?”

  “The office in the arn.”

  “Oh, great.” Dejected, Jas plopped down on his bed. “I’m not supposed to set foot on the farm.”

  “Hugh and Phil will be gone for oo days.” Smiling slyly, he bumped her on the leg with the cane. “You’ll f-figure out a way. Ust don’t get caught!”

  Jas burst out laughing. “You really are a sly old fox, aren’t you?”

  He wiggled his shaggy brows. “I want to get Hugh as much as oo do!”

  “Ten dollars for your thoughts?” Chase asked later that night. He and Jas were sitting on the porch swing playing cards. A warm breeze ruffled Jas’s hair, and the moon shone down brightly in the night sky. Crickets and frogs chirped in the trees, and Angel and Lassie snored on the steps.

  “I thought it was a penny for your thoughts,” Jas said.

  Chase shrugged. “Well, I thought with inflation and all,” he said as he laid down his cards between them. “Gin.”

  “Gin?” Confused, Jas stared at her own cards. She’d arranged them in a poker hand, totally forgetting what game they were playing. Her mind had been so focused on the photo album and the impossible task of retrieving it that she was playing the wrong game.

  With a sigh, she turned her cards facedown. “Sorry. I haven’t been paying much attention.”

  “I’ll say. I wish we’d been playing for money. I would have big money.”

  “Only I don’t have big money. My fortune went for Shadow’s horseshoes.”

  “Then I guess we’ll have to play for something else.” He arched one brow and grinned.

  “Like what?” Tilting her head, Jas eyed him.

  His hair was smooth and shiny as if he’d blown it dry, and he wore jean shorts and sandals. His legs were pale and covered with downy blond hair that looked so soft that Jas wanted to skim her fingers over it.

  He pushed off with both feet, and the swing began to rock. “Every time I win, I get to ask you a question. That way, I can find out what’s going on in your head. You’ve been as tight as a girth on a fat pony.”

  “Oh.” Jas looked away. Since the big blowup over Fourth of July weekend, being with Chase had become much easier. It was even fun. Every morning and night, she helped him feed and doctor the horses. But she still didn’t want to answer his questions or tell him what was bugging her. Since Whirlwind’s death, her trusting side was like a sealed envelope.

  Chase picked up the cards and shuffled them expertly. “So what do you think?”

  “Does that mean if I win, you have to answer my questions?” Jas asked, looking at him from under her lashes.

  “Sure,” he replied nonchalantly, but his neck turned pink.

  “Then it’s a deal.” Immediately, Jas wondered why she was accepting his challenge. When she was at the detention center, she’d played poker until she was sick of it. She’d gotten pretty good at winning, but what if she lost tonight?

  I just won’t lose.

  Taking the cards from Chase, Jas dealt them out, snapping them down on the seat of the swing. “We’ll play poker. Seven Card No Peek. Deuces wild.”

  Chase dragged one foot, slowing the swing. “My favorite game,” he said, turning over a two and a queen when she’d finished dealing. “Pair of queens.”

  Jas swallowed hard. As she turned over her cards, her palms began to sweat. After her sixth card, she had only a pair of threes.

  Come on, deuce. Come on, three.

  Slowly, she flipped over the last card—a ten. Her heart flew into her throat.

  Chase rubbed his hands together gleefully. “Gee, I won. I guess that means I get to ask the first question.”

  Yes, I like you, Chase, and that’s all I’m going to say.

  “Why did you stab that Robicheaux guy?”

  Jas was taken aback, even though she should have known he would ask about the assault. Maybe that’s why she accepted the bet. Because a part of her wanted, almost needed, to confide in him.

  “Why do you want to know about that?”

  “Because I’m nosy,” he joked. Then his expression turned serious. “No, I’d like to find out what you’re hiding. And it obviously has something to do with that Robicheaux guy.”

  Jas tensed. Carefully, she weighed his words. Should she tell him? And if she did, would he help her?

  She knew she needed help. There was no way she could get Hugh alone. Maybe this was too-perfect timing.

  Angling her chin toward Chase, she met his gaze. The swing was rocking slowly, and his face moved in and out of the shadows. He met her eyes, and just when she thought her pounding heart would burst, she blurted, “I stabbed him because he killed Whirlwind.”

  He didn’t even blink. “Well, shoot me. That’s a great reason to stab somebody,” he said. He smiled so goofily that it made Jas laugh with relief.

  “So how do you know for sure that he killed the horse?” Chase asked, leaning forward as he shuffled the cards.

  Jas snatched the deck from him. “I knew you wouldn’t believe me.”

  “I do believe you,” he declared. “I’m just playing cop. You know, finding out the evidence.”

  “Okay,” Jas relented as she dealt the cards. “But asking me how I know he killed my horse will be your second question.”

  “Oh, right. Deal the cards so I can win again.”

  This time she won the hand with three aces. “Ooh,” she crowed with delight. “Now I get to discover your deep, dark secrets.”

  He snorted. “No such thing. Mine are all shallow and bright.”

  “I’ll have to think of something really good to ask.” Jas chewed on her lip, dragging it out, wanting to keep him squirming.

  Then it hit her what she had to ask him, and her smile slid from her face. Shivering, as if the summer air had grown chilly, she set her arm on the back of the swing and turned toward him. She was so nervous, she could feel her pulse beating in her wrists.

  He slanted his eyes at her, and she could see the moon reflected in his pupils. She parted her lips, wanting to ask her question, but it stuck in her throat.

  “What do you want to ask me?” His voice was so low it sounded like the wind rustling through the leaves.

  “Can I …” She hesitated. “Can I trust you, Chase? I mean totally trust you?”

  He cocked one brow so slightly she wasn’t sure it had moved. Then slowly, he nodded. Reaching out, he brushed the back of her hand with his fing
er.

  “Trust me, Jas. You need to trust somebody.”

  “I know,” she whispered, relief flooding through her. And then she told him everything.

  Eighteen

  “DO YOU THINK THIS WILL WORK?” JAS hollered from the floor of the backseat of Lucy’s car.

  “Of course not,” Chase said. He was sitting in the front, and all she could see was the back of his head. “This is truly a boneheaded idea. James Bond would never—”

  “Oh, who needs James Bond,” Lucy cut in impatiently. She was driving, her long hair draped over the seat. “We’re just breaking into some rich old guy’s office. And if the dude shows up, I’ll just have to distract him. I’m good at distracting men.”

  Jas rolled her eyes. If there’d been any other way, Jas would have never brought Lucy in on the plan to heist the photo album from High Meadows. But since neither she nor Chase could drive, they’d decided they had no choice.

  Fortunately, Lucy bought the story that Jas had to sneak onto the farm to retrieve some personal things. And Miss Hahn had bought the story that they were going to the Bit and Bridle tack shop.

  Since Hugh had a strict feeding schedule, Jas knew no one would be at the barn until five-thirty that evening. So Jas’s challenge was to get in and out of his office and back to Miss Hahn’s before lockdown at six—without getting caught.

  “Anybody want some gum?” Lucy asked.

  “Yeah, toss me a piece,” Jas called. “I’m getting dog hair in my mouth.”

  “That’s cat hair,” said Lucy. “My two Siamese babies ride with me all the time.”

  “Here.” Leaning over the seat, Chase dropped a chunk of bubble gum on Jas’s chest, then grinned.

  “Gee, thanks,” she grumbled, but couldn’t help but smile back.

  “You don’t look much like a criminal,” Chase said, his chin propped on his hand as he looked down at her.

  “Just wait until you see me shoot my way into Hugh’s office. I’ll be as ruthless as Jesse James.” Unwrapping the gum, she stuck it in her mouth.

  “So, Chase, what was it you promised me in return for this little favor?” Lucy purred.