Chapter Twelve #2
“Yeah. There’s nothing drunk people like to do more than fall off a mechanical bull.”
“I could do that.”
“Ride a mechanical bull?”
“Fall off it.” I took a careful look around. No one else was in the yard, my phone hadn’t buzzed again, the temperature had dropped considerably, and so far, we knew nothing except a horse had been delivered in the quiet of the night.
Until we figured out what that was about, we needed to explore other avenues.
“Where would Jessica likely keep her back protector?” I asked. “Is there a special place for things like that?”
“In the locker room with the rest of her gear?” suggested Lily.
“Do the owners share the space with everyone else?”
“I don’t know.”
“Let’s head back to the locker room then return to the cabin and call it a night.”
We quickly checked the stable yard for alternative exits but, with the exception of a tight squeeze space between the two stable blocks that I wasn’t sure a person could fit through, the small yard was entirely separated from the main yard with nowhere we could scale a fence.
That left the path as the only entrance into the yard.
It was risky to take it but there was no other choice.
We jogged, ears alert for any noise, until we reached the gate.
Harvey had locked it behind him, but Lily reached for the fence, maneuvering the rotten bar out of the way so we could squeeze through.
She tucked it back into place, rearranged the bushes, and we jogged across the yard, gradually coming to a walk, like two normal people roaming a stable yard late at night for absolutely no reason.
We found two more locker rooms besides the one we’d plundered, and I had no idea which Jessica would use so we checked through each of them, finding a variety of jackets and body protectors on hangers, some with names attached, some with initials.
Helmets and boots occupied benches. Some garments didn’t have any identifiers.
There weren’t any bins marked “damaged” or “trash.” Most glaringly, nothing was marked “Jessica” or “JC.” None of the items seemed to belong to Joel, Yvette, or Harvey either.
“I don’t think Jessica keeps any of her stuff out here,” I said. “She must keep it all in the house. She said she borrowed the damaged protector from her sister but she wouldn’t return it like that, would she? We’ll have to figure out a way to gain entry.”
“Easy,” said Lily. “I’ll start a fire.”
“No! You can’t do that on a farm.”
“Not even a little one?”
“Not even a spark. I’m not going to be held responsible for this place going up in flames.”
“Fair. There is a lot of flammable stuff around. I’d suggest letting the horses out but that would be wrong too. One of them could get injured. Or a person could.”
“Agreed. We’ll figure something out,” I said.
“Could you ask Joel? Tell him Jessica offered to lend you something?”
“Maybe. I’ll think of something. Let’s head back and get a hot drink while we work out our next steps.”
Lily yawned, stifling it with her palm. “I’m beat,” she said.
“We should turn in for the night. We have to work tomorrow on top of—” I made a circular motion with my hand.
“Eating?”
“No.”
“Snooping?”
“Yes, but I meant our actual work on top of our undercover jobs. I need to figure out how I’m going to pass myself off as a hot shit top instructor. I have no idea what Jessica told everyone but I think they’re expecting some kind of miracle.”
“They’ll get one,” said Lily, “just not the one they’re expecting.”
As we trudged back to the cabin, my phone rang.
“Hi, Maddox,” I said cautiously, remembering the string of strange text messages he’d sent.
“I have notes,” Maddox started. “My first is that you look good all in black.”
I stopped, turning in a circle. “Are you watching us?”
“I can confirm I am not.”
“Huh.”
“But I was.”
“Where are you?”
“In a van a quarter mile uphill from the farm but the real question is…”
“What are you doing in a van?” I asked.
“Working. The…”
“What are you working on?” I cut in.
“I’m asking the questions!”
I frowned. “Are you investigating my case?”
“I’m still asking the questions!”
“Don’t you think I’m the one asking the questions?” I countered.
“That was a trick and I’m not falling for it. I asked first. Spill.”
“My client is Jessica Casey,” I said. “She owns the farm and she asked me to look into something.”
“Didn’t she pass away in an accident this morning?”
I winced. “Yes, and she’s still my client. I still have a job to do.”
“And the job is?”
“No. Your turn. Why are you watching the farm?”
“It came up as a site of interest in an investigation. We should swap notes.”
“You’ve got nothing,” I decided. “There’s no way you’d offer to share if you actually had something.”
“Maybe I want to share out of professional courtesy,” said Maddox.
“Hmm,” I wasn’t sure I believed that. I was leaning towards my guess that Maddox thought finding out what was going on in my case was the easiest route to cracking his.
However, even if he technically had nothing, he had something I didn’t have: an inkling that something else was going on here.
Perhaps something that might have instigated Jessica Casey’s untimely death.
“Okay, then, happy to share,” I agreed.
I needed to know what he knew.