Chapter 11 #4
Something was wrong. Shyanna managed to get her helmet off, then stripped off her vest and neck roll before taking off at a run down the concrete walk that connected the staging area with the concessions building.
Bounding up the stairs, she tried the first office door, but no one was there. The second one was locked.
Where had he gone? Standing there above everything on the walkway, she twisted and turned, hoping she’d catch sight of him somewhere below, but she didn’t see him.
Running back down the stairs, she headed to the concessions area, but he wasn’t there either.
“Would you please check and see if Jensen Strader is in there?” she asked a guy coming out of the men’s room.
She heard him call, “Jensen Strader? Strader?” There was no answer.
That was the moment when panic set in. She bolted out of the concession area and across the parking lot, dodging cars and people leaving early, and headed straight to the barn. He wasn’t there. The trailers were next, but they were both locked up tight. Where the hell could he be?
Back at the arena, she scanned the crowd and didn’t see a single sign of him. “Seen Jensen?” she asked Amos as he came up to the staging area to talk to one of the other cowboys.
“No. Did he scratch from the bull riding? I thought he was competing tonight.”
Shyanna’s heart was pounding out of her chest. “He was. They scratched me without even telling me. He went to ask why and he’s never come back. I’ve looked everywhere.”
“Looked in the trailers?” She nodded. “And the men’s room?”
“Yes. All those places.” Her hands had begun to shake and she couldn’t stop them. “Amos, I’m scared. Something’s wrong.”
“I think you’re right. Go to the concession stand and ask them to call him over the loudspeaker.”
For some reason, that seemed like a very bad idea.
“Uh, no. He’ll turn up, I’m sure,” she said, trying hard to believe her own words as she turned away.
A chill fell on her and her knees went weak, but she couldn’t give in to fear.
She had to find Jensen. Shyanna wandered aimlessly, hoping he was standing somewhere talking to someone, but he was nowhere to be found.
She had decided to go out and check the barn and the trailers for the second time when the sounds of sirens filled the air, and her heart swelled with fear.
Had something happened to him? The entire rodeo audience and all the participants watched as officers filed into the arena grounds, and Shyanna ran toward the concessions area.
Standing at a little distance, she saw all the officers stopping and roping off the area around the association’s little check-in office.
Planted inside the door was Jimmy Fuller, and she moved in as closely as she could to try to hear what he was saying.
She got “found him when I came in” and “don’t know how this could’ve happened,” along with “we’ve been friends forever” and “you guys have to figure this out.” Jimmy seemed animated, and she wondered if Dale had been hurt in some way.
But ten minutes later when the gurney left with the body bag, she knew Dale wasn’t hurt―he was dead.
What the hell? She’d never been his biggest fan, but he’d always treated her fairly and been polite.
As soon as the gurney was gone, the police took over the office.
Then she heard something she couldn’t believe.
“The last person I saw go into the office was Jensen Strader, and he didn’t come out. There’s a back door to this place. Maybe he went out that way.”
No. No, Jensen didn’t do this. He didn’t have any reason to!
the screaming inside her head repeated over and over, and she turned and ran down the nearest stairs, straight out through the back alley and out the side of the building by the parking lot.
It was too far to the trailers, but not too far for her to see something she just couldn’t believe.
Jensen’s rig was gone.
Without a second thought, she barreled toward the barn and stopped in front of the stalls where they’d left the horses earlier. Both were there. That didn’t make any sense. Even if he’d done something like that, Jensen wouldn’t have left Snowman―never in a million years. It just couldn’t be.
Think, Shy. What’s going on here? Something’s wrong. Shyanna thought back to everything that had gone on since she’d first realized Jensen hadn’t made it back for his go-round. There was a missing piece, something she couldn’t figure out. And then it hit her.
Shyanna ran to the event lists on the wall outside the main office and looked down them, checking names of competitors. Then she looked at the lists of competitors and their times in each event. And one name was conspicuously absent from the results list.
Max Barlow. That son of a bitch.
Something flicked through Shyanna’s mind at breakneck speed.
She’d seen Jimmy and Max coming out of the office several times.
She’d seen Max hunkered down against the railing in the stands, talking to Jimmy.
And she’d seen that strange suit with the glasses talking to Max out in the parking lot before the day’s events started.
Investment banker my ass, she thought. Something much bigger was going on, and she didn’t know what it was, but she’d figure it out.
Remembering what they’d said about a back staircase, Shyanna walked that way around the building, sticking close to the wall, and was surprised to see there wasn’t anyone back there.
There were no signs of a fight there, but as she turned to walk away, something caught her eye.
The light glinted off of a tiny bronze-colored star, a nailhead decoration, and it was just like the ones on Jensen’s boots.
Checking carefully, she could see some faint scrape marks near it.
She stood and stared at them, trying to figure out which direction they were going, when someone said, “Shyanna Owens?”
When she spun to face the voice, she found a police officer standing nearby. “Yes, sir? Can I help you?” she answered, slipping the little star into her pocket.
“I’m going to have to ask you to come with me. We need to ask you some questions,” he said and pointed back toward the arena. Shyanna let him lead her there, all the while wondering how long they’d detain her. She had to get busy.
He was out there somewhere. And he was depending on her to find him. She couldn’t let him down. In the brief time she’d known him, he’d become everything to her.
Everything.