by Sonia Parin
“Nothing.” Leaning over the steering wheel, she looked at the grounds behind the house. The grass needed cutting and the trees trimmed. Frowning, she reached for her cell phone and called the pub. “Hey, it’s me. Is Frankie around?”
She listened to the buzz of conversation and, a moment later, Frankie picked up the phone and said hello.
“Frankie, I’ve just had a stray thought. That day you drove to Kinsley’s house, we didn’t see your truck. Where did you leave it?”
“Further up the road. I got lost and, instead of doubling back, I walked the rest of the way through the forest.”
Kinsley knew the way to her own house but she might have decided to keep the car hidden. While she was at it, she asked if Kinsley had returned.
“I haven’t seen her. Is everything all right?” Frankie asked.
“Yes. No need to worry. I’m headed back now. I’ll see you soon.” She turned the car around only to stop. Glancing down at Doyle, she raised one eyebrow. “What do you think? Are you up for a bit of adventurous snooping? It’ll only take a couple of minutes. I’d like to stand in there alone, with no one around.” Abby shrugged. “Who knows? My thoughts might settle down and I might come up with something significant.”
Doyle gave the equivalent of a human huff.
“That’s a good boy. I knew you had it in you.”
She eased the car door open and, taking care to look around, made her way to the stables. The moment she stepped inside, she shivered. Nothing appeared to have been disturbed since she’d last been in there.
“Let’s do a bit of role playing. I’ll be Sam and… the killer. What are you doing here? Sam would have asked and the killer would have said he wanted to make sure no one beat him to the stash because he’d waited too long to get his hands on it.” What would Sam have done? she wondered.
“Considering his possible relationship with Kinsley, I’m going to say Sam wanted to be near her so he could watch her back. When someone threatened her wellbeing, he stood his ground. Unfortunately, his courage got him killed.” Abby looked around. Why had the killer gone to the trouble of putting him on the horse?
“The killer threatened to kill him if Sam didn’t reveal… What? The secret hiding place?” She looked at Doyle and smiled. “Okay, then what? I think maybe Sam pleaded ignorance, saying he only wanted to restore the carousel and he knew nothing about a stash. That would have angered the killer.”
Doyle tilted his little head from side to side.
“What? You don’t agree?” She strode around the carousel. It didn’t feel so strange now. Yes, someone had been killed here but distance and time had a way of sanitizing events. She stepped up onto the carousel and wove her way around the horses.
Startled by the sound of her phone beeping, Abby pressed her hand to her chest and read the message. “This is interesting.” Joshua had made inquiries in the nearest town where the circus had toured and had discovered Warren had used a taxi service to drive to the house. The driver had remembered Warren because he’d booked the service well in advance and always at the same time each year.
“Huzzah! That has to mean something. So much for Warren never leaving the circus.” Abby looked around. He must have made the trip to the house to hide his stash. According to the message, the trips had been made in the dead of night, so Warren must have made his way out of the circus grounds without anyone noticing. Why would he want to keep his trip a secret?
“Because he didn’t want anyone finding out he had something to hide,” Abby said under her breath and sent a text to thank Joshua for sharing the information. “Good work, detective.”
What if someone had noticed?
Putting the phone away, she continued weaving her way around the carousel. “If I wanted to hide something of value, where would I put it?” She stopped to study the detailed paintwork on one of the horses. The paint looked shiny, almost as if it had been applied only recently.
Doyle scurried toward the door and back to stand beside Abby. She ran her hand along the horse’s rump. In time, she knew Joshua would discover how the carousel had ended up in the stables. Abby smiled. “Faith will love researching the sale of carousels.” Eventually, they were bound to connect the dots. “Okay. Time to go.” She swung around and looked up.
Right above the stable door, she saw a gray metal box which looked remarkably like an alarm. Despite living in a safe town, her mom had installed an alarm system and the light blinked. This one didn’t. Abby drew out her cell phone.
“Detective.”
“Let me guess, you’ve come up with a bright new lead,” Joshua said.
The background noise Abby heard suggested she’d called Joshua during a coffee break at the station. “Are you at your desk?”
“Yes. Are you about to send me on an errand?”
“Did you know there’s an alarm system installed in the stable? It doesn’t appear to be working.”
“And what does that tell you?” Joshua asked.
“That someone forgot to pay the bill?” Or, someone decided to stop paying the bill. She strode up to the door and tried to make out the name of the company. “You could contact them.” Next, Abby tried the light switch. It didn’t work. Abby tapped her hand against her thigh. She’d taken so many photos but they’d all been of the carousel and all at eyelevel. It simply hadn’t occurred to look up. “Call me back if you find anything useful. Please?”
“I wouldn’t dare leave you out of the loop.”
Disconnecting the call, Abby wondered why someone would go to the trouble of installing a security system and not have it connected. “Ten bucks says the system had been active right up until Warren Kinsley’s death. Ditto for the electricity. What do you think, Doyle?” She sent Joshua a message and felt a rush of heat settle on her cheeks. “He must be getting tired of hearing from me.”
She read the reply and laughed. “It’s a no to the bet. Yeah, I don’t like to lose either. Hey, Doyle. Guess what? Joshua says I might be recruited as a mascot after all.”
Doyle barked at the same time as Abby swung around. She didn’t hear the click of a revolver being cocked, but she saw it because the revolver was aimed straight at her face.
“You.”
Chapter Fifteen
FOR A SPLIT SECOND, ABBY replayed the scene in her mind. She heard Doyle barking, she saw herself swinging around and then fixing her gaze on the revolver being cocked.
It all happened simultaneously and, layered between the sounds and movement, she could still hear her cell phone ringing. Somehow, she managed to react and swiped her finger to connect the call, but the killer acted quickly.
He lunged for her and clamped his hand over her mouth.
Too late, she thought as she heard Faith’s voice.
“Abby. You’ll never guess,” Faith chirped. “So, I’ll tell you. Oh, I guess you should know, Kinsley is back.” Faith tripped over her words as she rushed to fill her in. “She didn’t go back to her place. She actually went to the store to check her postal box. Would you believe it, that’s where she kept her photographs because, in her opinion, that’s the safest place. Apparently, she’s heard all sorts of stories about bushfires. Anyway, long story short, she remembered having a stack of photos.”
Abby’s eyes widened. The killer kept his hand clamped over her mouth and shook his head. The revolver remained pointed at her. As she wondered what would happen if she acted, the revolver shifted to Doyle almost as if the killer had read her mind.
Abby gave a small nod. Yes, she understood the consequences. And, yes, she would be compliant.
“Every year,” Faith continued, “her mom took her to the circus and she had a photo taken. I should make you guess, but I won’t. I’m so excited, I’m champing at the bit. All these photos were taken on a horse. Remember the interview with Warren Kinsley? He went on about the horse act and how he had to phase it out because of all the complaints from the animal activists. Anyway, whatever we’re looking for has to be insi
de the horses. Each photo is signed ‘To Kinsley. As good as gold’. We’ve been brainstorming it and we both agree that has to be a message and you were most likely right about the treasure. But there’s only one way to find out for sure. Check the horses. Hey, you should get a metal detector. Why didn’t we think of that before?”
Abby could barely breath. Her ears rang with the loud thumping of her heart.
“Hey, why is Doyle barking?” Faith asked.
“Say yes, and hang up,” the killer whispered and pressed the gun to her head.
When Abby nodded, he eased his hand away so she could speak.
Abby tried to swallow and steady her breathing. “Y-yes. I’ll… I’ll call you.” She pressed her eyes tightly. She’d followed the instructions but she prayed Faith had picked up the strained tone in her voice. Surely Faith would realize something wasn’t right.
The killer snatched the cell phone and hurled it against the wall. “Now, turn around.”
Doyle continued barking, his shoulders tense, his little feet planted firmly on the ground.
“Tell that mutt to shut up or I’ll shoot it.”
Abby heaved in a breath and put everything into calling out his name. “Doyle. Quiet.” She’d never issued an order so she had no idea how he’d respond. Luckily, he quietened down, but she could hear him whimper. “You’ll never get away with it.”
The killer laughed.
Typical, Abby thought. He had a soft laugh but the glint in his eyes marked him as a moustache twirling villain. “Crimes don’t go unsolved,” Abby said. “Especially not in this day and age. The police will figure it all out.” She hoped those were not going to be her last words.
“Step back,” he said.
Abby moved and watched as he tapped the horse’s flank with his revolver. He held her gaze for a moment and then broke eye contact, not long enough for her to come up with a lifesaving idea.
He locked eyes with her again and nudged his revolver. “Find a toolbox. There has to be one here.”
She willed her feet to move. Doyle growled softly.
“Hurry up. Move.”
She stepped off the carousel and looked around her. She had done a thorough search of the stables. Yet, her mind refused to co-operate. Had she seen a toolbox around?
“There,” he said and pointed toward one of the stalls. “There must be a hammer in that toolbox.”
Seeing it, she hurried her step but he responded by pulling her back.
Abby scooped in a breath. She had to keep her wits about her and grab the next opportunity. Suddenly, she understood the meaning of seeing red. Fool. If she’d been quick to respond, she could have been wielding a hammer or some sort of weapon. Something, anything to distract him.
Still holding the revolver pointed at her, he leaned down and snatched a hammer.
“I’m guessing you have a masterplan in place,” she said. “After all, you’ve had two years to think about it.”
He herded her back toward the carousel.
“Wow,” she exclaimed. “Two years. I’ve only been at it for a few days and managed to get more answers than you did in all that time. How is that possible?”
“I guess nothing beats a snoopy woman. I wondered about you. When you started meddling, I thought you might make some headway.” He lifted the hammer and smashed it against the horse’s rump but the hammer nearly flew out of his hand.
“You need to put your back into it,” Abby said.
Snarling, he turned his focus to wielding the hammer again, Abby snatched her brief window of opportunity and hunted around for a weapon.
“I hope you’re not going to try something stupid,” he warned. “You can’t outrun a bullet.”
She gave a slow shake of her head. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
He swung the hammer again, to no avail. He hadn’t even put a dent on the horse’s rump.
“Maybe you should aim for a weaker spot,” Abby suggested.
He gave her a what-would-you-know look and tried hitting the same spot again.
“In your place, I’d try lower down.” That might give her an extra two seconds to find something threatening enough to use against him. “In fact, those legs look quite spindly. If you manage to make a hairline fracture, you’ll create a fault line. Hit it enough times, and you’re likely to make some progress,” she said trying to sound as convincing as possible when, in fact, she imagined the legs would be the strongest part of the horse, fortified to hold the horse’s weight.
“Are you always so chatty and bossy?”
Abby shrugged and swung her gaze over her shoulder. Sam had spent time working on the carousel. Unfortunately, he’d clearly been a tidy worker, putting his tools away after a day’s work.
“What are you hoping to find? Money?” Abby asked. “Surely you don’t need the money.”
He snorted.
“You were placed in a position of trust,” Abby continued.
“You are either naïve or stupid,” he said under his breath.
“Oh, I might be slow on the take but I get there eventually. For instance, I know you disarmed the alarm system so you could have easy access to the stables. Actually, I think you just stopped paying the bill or canceled the contract. Which is it?”
He walked around the horse and ran his hand over its underside. Seeing his eyes brighten, she guessed he’d found a seam.
Giving it a light tap, he smiled and proceeded to bang on the underside of the horse. After several blows, Abby saw a splintered piece of what appeared to be fiberglass. “See, it’s working. You should thank me.”
“Yes, you’ve been very helpful. Don’t get too comfortable. I might have some use for you yet, but your time is limited.”
“Speaking of time…” She’d never been any good at measuring it without looking at a watch. She could only hope more than fifteen minutes had elapsed. Faith would start to wonder… “It’s been two years and you never thought to look inside the horses?”
There were thirty or more of them. Would he find what he wanted in this horse? Abby hoped not. The longer it took him to locate the stash, the more chances she had of surviving this.
“That’s a lot of work for… what? A few dollars?”
He laughed. “You have no idea.”
“No, I don’t. Why don’t you enlighten me?” she asked, her tone conversational.
He swung the hammer again. “Have you heard of the goldrush?”
“Of course. Who hasn’t? But the Kinsley family made their money with the circus.”
“You haven’t done your homework. And you call yourself an investigative reporter.”
“I’m a lifestyle reporter,” Abby said in a tone that implied a roll of her eyes.
“Do you have any idea what it cost to build a house the size of this one back in the 1850s? The first Kinsley to come out from England struck it lucky with a huge gold strike and set up the whole family, but he had rules. He wanted his children to earn their own living. He didn’t care what they did, so long as they kept busy. One of his sons worked his way to America and became passionate about the circus. When he returned, he borrowed money from his father and established the Kinsley Circus. Meanwhile, the gold continued to accumulate.”
Just how much gold had the first Kinsley found and what had he done with it all?
“There’s a veritable fortune in gold bars hidden somewhere on the estate,” he declared.
Abby tilted her head. “And you decided to claim it as your own. How did you find out about it?” She didn’t expect him to answer, but he did…
“I’m a local history buff. Everyone is so caught up with the latest fads and gadgets, very few people are interested in history.” He drew his brows down. “Did you know, the gold exported to Britain in the 1850s paid all her foreign debts. One of the biggest gold strikes was just north of here.” He shook his head. “When Warren Kinsley died and I saw he hadn’t left any money, I knew I had to dig around.”
“I’d hate to point
out the obvious again, but you hold a position of trust. Heck, you’re an officer of the law.” All this time, he’d had her fooled. If she ever came across another crime scene, she would suspect absolutely everyone she crossed paths with.
“I guess it takes all sorts,” he mused and swung the hammer again.
“Yes, but did you have to kill Sam? Surely you could have struck a deal.”
His jaw muscles twitched. He straightened and glared at her. “Damn fool of a man. I tried, but he wouldn’t hear of it.” He pointed the hammer at her. “Did you know he’s related to Kinsley? He never told her. Imagine going to all that trouble of tracking her down and then not telling her.” He bent down only to straighten again. “Simpleminded fool. He threatened to call the police.”
“Didn’t it occur to you the police would actually investigate his death? Maybe you should have tried to hide the body.”
“I tried but then I heard Kinsley’s car and I knew she’d drive around to the back of the house so I only had a few minutes to get away.”
“But you took the time to position the body on the horse.”
He resumed his hammering, tackling it with vengeance. Abby didn’t think he’d say any more but after a minute, he stepped back, his chest rising and falling as he tried to catch his breath.
“I had to do something. I bet you thought someone had killed Sam to get back at him.”
She had. In fact, she’d hoped that had been the case so Kinsley could relax and not worry about someone wanting to kill her. “You wanted it to lead back to the circus.”
He positioned his feet wide apart and put his back into the next blow. Then he crouched down but kept the revolver aimed at her. “I see it.” His voice hitched with excitement. “It’s here. I knew it.” He jammed the hammer inside the hole he’d made and twisted it around. Wrenching out a large piece of fiberglass made a big enough hole for his bounty to spill out.
For a split second, Abby forgot about the danger she faced and gave in to the excitement of the moment.
He straightened and gazed down at the gold bar he held, his eyes widening with every breath he took. Lifting his gaze, he looked at the other horses. When his face tensed, Abby knew he’d been possessed by the greed that had driven him to kill a man.
