CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Danica
I’d been driving around for hours with absolutely no luck.
Clint had an ongoing message thread for everyone to stay up-to-date. Once we’d looked somewhere, we could say that location was clear, in order to effectively canvas the entire island and not triple-check unnecessary locations.
My stomach rumbled like nearby thunder, but I ignored it. It was nearly two o’clock in the afternoon, and I’d come up with absolutely nothing.
Nobody in the group message had.
Bennett McEvoy had gone to the ferry terminal and checked all their early morning security footage to see if there was anything suspicious, and besides a couple of large delivery vans leaving on the 6 a.m. ferry, there wasn’t anything overly suspicious.
And we knew the drivers of those vans, and there was no doubt in anybody’s mind that they were innocent.
I needed to pee really badly, and I was closest to Tom’s house at this point, but I didn’t dare go back there right now. Not after the way he was right before I left. Was this his way of telling me it was over? That I was a liability to the property? To him and the animals?
I knew he was an anxious person, and not used to the sudden “fame” of the animals. So I hoped that his reaction to things and the way he treated me was just a side effect of the situation, and not the beginning of the end of us.
I wasn’t ready to face him again though. Not after the way we left things.
Gabrielle had texted me to say that she, Maverick, and Sam were with Tom and the animals at the property. So I took solace in knowing they were together and nobody was alone with their stress.
The urge to pee was strong now. I just pulled over on the side of the road between Tom’s driveway and Otto Pickford’s driveway and walked down into the trees to quickly relieve myself.
Traffic was so minimal on the island in this area, and even if a vehicle did drive by, they wouldn’t be able to see me crouching behind the big spruce trunk.
I pulled up my pants and was just climbing back up the small embankment to the road when a weird, faint sound on the wind made me pause.
I recognized that noise. It was a horse.
And yes, I was close to Tom’s property and there were horses in the field, but that wasn’t a noise that any of the adults made. That was a sound reserved only for a young foal.
I paused again, gripping the smooth, barkless trunk of the madrona tree beside me, and waited for the noise again.
Was that just wishful thinking?
Or when I used to think I’d hear Sam crying when I was in the shower, only to jump out and find her fast asleep in her crib? Was I hearing things?
Then it happened again. Brought to me on the cool, briny breeze like a gull’s cry. But that was no gull. That was a foal. That was Midnight.
I crept back through the trees, blazing my own trail toward Otto Pickford’s house.
Another whinny, this time even louder, echoed toward me, and it was definitely coming from the direction of their garage.
Was Midnight really this close to home?
And why on earth was he in Otto’s garage?
A twig cracked under my boot and I paused, my body going ice cold as I waited to be discovered, but just like Midnight’s cries for help were getting lost on the wind, so was my twig snap.
I continued on, sticking to the dense brush and hiding behind big trunks when I could.
There was only one vehicle parked in the driveway, but I recognized it as Avelyn’s sedan from the other day.
Carefully, I snuck around behind the garage, which was detached from the house, and peered in through the window on the side, having to lift onto my tiptoes to see.
There was a vehicle parked in the garage, and it was dark, so I couldn’t really make out anything, but the next whinny definitely came from inside.
“Can’t you shut him up?” came the hissed whisper of a female voice.
“What do I look like? The horse whisperer?” asked a man.
I brought my phone out of my pocket and immediately sent off a text to Tom, then to the group chat that I had found Midnight and where.
Tom responded immediately that he was on his way.
I didn’t know if I should just stay and wait, make sure they didn’t leave, or knock on the door and let them know they’d been had, but that decision was made for me when the door next to the window suddenly opened and I came face-to-face with Avelyn Whalley.
“What the hell are you doing here?” she demanded, shutting the garage door with a slam. She tucked a strand of her chestnut extensions behind her ear, and the big, glittery rhinestones on her long, hot-pink acrylic nails sparkled at me in the sun.
“Why do you have Tom’s foal in your garage?” I asked, my voice regrettably a little shaky.
She sneered at me. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. You’re trespassing. Get off my property.”
“A bit hypocritical, huh?” I replied at the same time Midnight whinnied again. “Your son trespassed on Tom’s land, then you and someone trespassed again and stole the foal, and you’re accusing me of trespassing.”
“I didn’t steal jack shit, you bitch. Now get off my land before I call the police.”
Twigs and branches cracked and snapped behind me, and a moment later, Tom, Maverick, Sam and Gabrielle all emerged through the trees, out of breath and rosy-cheeked.
“Where the hell is my horse?” Tom demanded, heading to the door, his hand outstretched to open it.
Avelyn blocked him. “Excuse me.”
He growled at her. “Don’t.”
She crossed her arms over her chest.
“Move,” Tom said, his voice low and threatening.
“What’s the meaning of this?” came the booming voice of Otto Pickford a second later.
“Why are you all here? This is private property.” He rounded the driveway and came to stand in front of all of us, totally confused and looking like he had just woken up from a nap with wild hair and pillow creases on his face.
Midnight whinnied inside the garage, and Sam gasped. Gabrielle wrapped a protective arm around her.
“Your daughter—and you—snuck into my barn this morning and stole my foal,” Tom said, only having to tip his gaze up a little to look Otto in his pale-blue eyes.
Otto’s face went bright red, and he started to sputter. “The audacity of your accusations! How dare you! I have done nothing of the sort.”
Midnight whinnied again, and this time it was Sam who pushed past all of them, driving an elbow into Avelyn to get her to move, and opened the door, running into the garage. “Midnight!” she cried. “He’s in here. Who are you? Stop doing that to him! Get off him!”
Tom took one look at me, then darted into the garage behind Sam, I followed, and that’s where we found Vincent on the floor of the garage, with a roll of silver duct tape in his hand trying—and failing—to wrap it around Midnight’s mouth to keep him from making any noise.
He had the foal in a headlock, but our strong, determined little colt wasn’t giving up without a fight.
And neither was my daughter. She tackled Vincent to the ground, which allowed Midnight to get free. Though they also had a rough-looking rope around his little neck, and it was secured to the table vice on the workbench. He saw Tom and tried to get to him, but the rope fell short.
Tom came up to Midnight and immediately removed the rope, checking the horse for any injuries.
“Get this kid off me,” Vincent hollered as Sam now sat on his stomach, beating his chest with her fists.
“Who steals a baby orphan horse? What is wrong with you?” my daughter screamed.
Maverick was in the garage now, and he tucked his hands under Sam’s arms and hauled her off of Vincent.
“Your child is a freak,” Avelyn said behind me.
I spun around and slapped her hard across the face. “Don’t you say a fucking word about my daughter. Ever.”
Otto stood in the doorway of the garage, his mouth agape as Gabrielle blocked him from leaving, her arms across her chest.
Car doors slammed over and over again outside, like a child who’d just found a drum set in the attic, and a moment later, Officers Myla Bruce and Everett Jacobs, along with the McEvoys, appeared.
“What kind of weird-ass bullshit is this?” I heard Raina say. “Who steals a horse and uses it for blackmail? Are we in the Wild West or something?”
“That’s a hangin’ offense,” Jagger muttered, his voice notable among the rest of the chatter.
Tom had Midnight in his arms and carried the foal out of the garage, while Maverick and Jagger—who had pushed his way past—hauled Vincent up to his feet and escorted him outside.
Avelyn stood there, smug, with her arms crossed over her chest. Her father stared down at her in horror.
“What the hell is all of this?” Myla asked, disbelief and confusion on her face, as well as the rest of ours.
“I assure you, officers, this is all a big misunderstanding,” Otto protested. “That horse escaped—just like that donkey did—and broke into my garage. My daughter must have found it.”
“Bullshit,” Sam said, glaring at her principal. “You’re such a liar.”
Rage filled Otto’s eyes. “Don’t you dare speak to me like that … you … you … fiend of a child. I am the principal. I am your boss. The disrespect.” He faced me. “I should have your daughter expelled for this.”
“Try it,” I said blandly. “Just try it, bud.”
“And you’re not our kids’ ‘boss,’” Raina added. “You’re their educator. You’re supposed to make their place of learning enjoyable and safe. And you’ve never done that.”
Maverick and Jagger still had Vincent by the arms, and Otto sneered at him. “You’re the man who came by here last week. Said you were going to get Tommaso’s land.”
“Interesting,” Gabrielle remarked. “What else did he say?”
“Shut up, Dad,” Avelyn scolded.
“I don’t know what is going on here,” Otto said, “but I had nothing to do with it. All of you are trespassing on my property.” He fixed his gaze on Myla and Everett. “Officers, arrest these people.”