The Mystery of the Zorse's Mask

by Linda Joy Singleton

  Slinging my backpack over my shoulder, I race downstairs. Dad is flipping bacon chocolate chip pancakes (a combo that’s surprisingly yummy), and he insists I take one. I curl one in my hand like a pancake-burrito and start for the door.

  It’s chilly and wind flings my hair around my face. As the door shuts behind me, I hear the phone ringing, but it’s hardly ever for me, so I hurry down the stairs for the apartment’s bike rack.

  I’m unlocking my bike chain when I hear Mom shout my name. I look up to find her leaning against the second-floor rail and waving the phone.

  It must be Becca! I think anxiously as I race back up the stairs. Has she found the fly mask?

  When I put the phone to my ear, I hear a strange woman’s voice.

  “Is this Kelsey Case?” She sounds about Mom’s age.

  “Yes.” I bite my lip as I glance down at my watch. “I’m in a hurry …”

  “So am I,” the woman says firmly. “I just read your email.”

  “Email?”

  “You sent it last night … well, this morning,” she adds. “I’m Carol Hunter-Bowling.”

  “Oh!” I almost stumble down the stairs. “Caleb’s sister.”

  “Unfortunately.” Her voice drips bitterness. “I was shocked by your email. I thought Domino was dead.”

  “He’s very much alive. Didn’t your brother tell you?”

  “We don’t talk,” she says bluntly. “You wrote that Cal was bringing Domino home to our grandmother?”

  “Yes.” I smile, imagining the happy reunion. “My friend Becca—she lives at the Wild Oaks Sanctuary—has been caring for Ze … I mean … Domino for over six months, and he’s doing great. His scars are healed and Becca can even ride him. She really loves him.”

  “I’m glad someone there does, because my brother doesn’t.”

  I switch the phone to my other ear to make sure I heard right. “Caleb told us he was heartbroken when Domino ran away.”

  “Of course he told you that,” Carol says sarcastically. “Cal is very good at saying what people want to hear.”

  “What do you mean? Caleb cares a lot about the zorse. And he’s worried about his grandma. He almost cried when he spoke about her being so sick … maybe dying.”

  “Grandma was in bad shape after the stroke, but now she’s getting around on a walker and the doctor says she can move back to the ranch soon. She’s reluctant to go home though, because Domino isn’t there.”

  “Caleb is bringing him back today,” I point out.

  “I’ll believe it when I see it,” Carol says doubtfully. “I don’t know what scheme my brother is up to, but I don’t trust him—especially with the zorse.”

  “I don’t understand. He showed us photos of your family with the zorse, and everyone looked happy together. He trains horses, so he must love animals.”

  “Cal is good with horses, and he’s a decent horse trainer. But a zorse is not a horse and can’t be forced to learn.” Her voice rises with anger. “Grandma warned Caleb over and over not to use harsh training techniques on Domino. But my brother couldn’t get that through his thick head.”

  “He tried to train Zed … I mean, Domino?”

  “Yes, even after Grandma ordered him to stay away from Domino. My brother is not a terrible person, but he has a terrible temper. And his pride couldn’t take being bested by an animal. He tried to force Domino into submission with brute force. I don’t blame Domino for fighting back.”

  Even though I’m afraid to ask, I do anyway. “What happened?”

  “My brother whipped Domino.”

  I gasp, remembering Becca describing how Zed had been beaten. “No! Caleb was the one who did that? But I thought Zed ran away because he was spooked by an ambulance, then was hurt during the months he was missing.”

  “The ambulance did spook him, but Cal did all the hurting. Since I was riding to the hospital with Grandma, Cal said he’d stay at the ranch and take care of the zorse.”

  Caleb also told us he would “take care” of Zed. I shudder at the new terrible meaning of those words.

  “I wouldn’t have known what really happened if Grandma didn’t have a security camera on the corral,” Carol continues. “Unfortunately, it was weeks before I checked the video. By then, I thought Domino was dead and didn’t want to add to Grandma’s grief by telling her what Caleb did. I confronted Caleb though, and threatened to turn the video over to the police if he ever hurt another animal.” Her voice cracks. “I still have nightmares about that video. It made me sick to watch that poor zorse whipped until he fought back and bit my brother.”

  I think back to the ugly scars on Caleb’s arm. He told us a horse tossed him into barbed wire. But he was lying … about everything.

  “Why did Caleb come to Wild Oaks?” I say, gripping the phone tightly. “If he hates the zorse, why drive hundreds of miles to return him to your grandmother?”

  “He has no intention of returning the zorse,” Carol says furiously. “I’m sure of it.”

  “But he’s picking him up this morning.”

  “That scares me because my brother never forgets a grudge. Domino bit him, which is a blow to his pride. Cal is out for revenge.”

  I gasp. “Do you think he’s going to hurt Zed?”

  “He already did once,” she says sadly. “I’ll do what I can to stop him. I’m getting in my car now, and I’ll be at Wild Oaks Sanctuary in a few hours. Tell your friend to stall my brother until I can get there.”

  I hurry over to my bike. “I’m going to Becca’s house right now.”

  “Good,” she says, sounding relieved. “No matter what happens, do not leave my brother alone with the zorse.”

  “I won’t,” I promise.

  As I click off the phone, my thoughts race faster than my pounding heart.

  It’s hard to imagine Caleb, the sweet-talking cowboy, beating an animal. Becca was suspicious of him until he showed the video of Zed/Domino as a foal. But her first impression was right, and we never should have trusted him.

  My hands shake as I dial Becca’s cell number. It rings over and over until her voice mail invites me to leave a message.

  “Becca, why aren’t you answering?” I rant at the phone, “Zed is in trouble! I have to warn you about Caleb! Don’t let him take Zed!”

  I stare at the phone anxiously. If I can’t talk to Becca, I should try her mother—except I don’t have her mother’s number. I could look up Wild Oak Sanctuary’s number, but that would mean losing precious time by going back inside the house and searching for a phone book or waiting for our outdated computer to power up.

  It’s quicker to bike to Becca’s.

  Hopping on my bike seat, I pedal faster than I ever have in my life. It’s not until I’m blocks away that I realize I’m still holding the house phone. Oops. It’s just an extension anyway, not the main phone. When I stop at an intersection, I toss it into my backpack on top of my English literature book.

  My legs pump up and down, wheels spinning so fast my spokes are a blur. I think back to when we met Caleb. Becca was suspicious of him. But he was just so nice … maybe too nice? When he showed us the video and told stories about his family, even Becca liked him.

  He fooled all of us.

  Was he the one who stole the fly mask? I wonder as I hit a bump in the road and bounce up and down on my seat. I was so shocked by Carol’s call, I forgot to ask her if the fly mask jewels are fake or real. Not that it matters now. The mask is gone. Caleb is the most likely thief. But why take the mask when we were going to give it to him? Unless he wanted to make sure no one knew he had it. But how could he know where Becca hid it?

  Downtown rushes by in a blur of cars and businesses. I practically fly up Wild Road, my throat aching from breathing hard. Faster, I urge myself. I have to get there before Caleb comes for Zed. It won’t be easy stalling Caleb, but Becca, Leo (if he’s there), and I will figure something out. Mrs. Morales might help too—if she believes me. She did just go out on a date
with Caleb, maybe even kissed him. Yuck.

  Hurry, hurry! I tell myself. But Wild Road is steeper near the top of the hill and my legs ache. I grip the handlebars tightly as I push myself faster.

  At the crest of the hill, I pass the dirt road we usually take when we go to the Skunk Shack and continue on to the long driveway into Wild Oaks Sanctuary. A wooden sign etched with animal drawings welcomes me to the sanctuary.

  Gravel crunches beneath my tires as I near the last curve in the driveway and see the red, pointed top of the barn.

  I cross my fingers that Caleb’s horse trailer is still parked by the barn. It’ll be even better if the truck, which Caleb has been using to drive around town, isn’t there.

  Turning the corner, I see the trailer, but it’s not parked by the barn.

  It’s not parked at all—it’s moving!

  Pulled by Caleb’s white truck, the large horse trailer slowly backs up, turning around to pull out of the driveway. Through a trailer window, I glimpse a black-and-white tail.

  Caleb is leaving with Zed!

  I watch in horror as the truck moves in slow motion, wheels backing up, turning, straightening, then rolling forward.

  Where are Becca, Leo, and Mrs. Morales?

  I want to scream for help. But screaming would attract Caleb’s attention and let him know I’ve found out about his lies.

  Exhaust puffs from the truck. I smell the acrid odor of diesel. In seconds, the truck will pass me on the road then drive away—with Zed.

  I’m the only one who knows Zed is in danger.

  But what can I do?

  I hear Carol’s warning in my head: “No matter what happens, do not leave my brother alone with the zorse.”

  “I won’t,” I vow with grim determination.

  No time to find someone to help—it’s all up to me. Dropping my bike between bushes bordering the driveway, I duck down low and creep around the bushes. I wait until the horse trailer is parallel to me, hoping to jump into the back and let Zed out. But the back is shut tight with a heavy steel latch.

  There’s no latch on the tack room door though.

  Running to the side of the trailer, I yank it open.

  And I jump inside.

  Chapter 19

  Shake, Rattle, and Ride

  This is either the stupidest or the bravest thing I’ve ever done.

  I’m being rattled in a giant tin can that smells strongly of leather and hay. The metal floor beneath my feet shakes. Around me, boxes, bottles, saddles, bridles, cinches, and hanging lead ropes sway and rattle. I grab on to a shelf so I don’t topple over, not that’s there room to fall. The small tack room is like a closet on wheels.

  Now what do I do? I thought there would be an inside door leading from here to the horse stall, but nope. I can hear thumps from Zed moving around, but there isn’t even a window to see him through. The walls around me are solid metal.

  Why didn’t I think before I jumped?

  The smart move would have been to find Becca or her mom. But they could have been anywhere—the house, the pasture, or in an outbuilding. By the time I found them and explained everything, Caleb would be miles away with Zed.

  Now he’s driving miles away with me too.

  The horse trailer leaves the gravel driveway for a smoother paved road. Wild Road, I realize as we turn right, then coast downhill toward downtown Sun Flower. The rattling has lessened, but my fears are growing.

  I need to get out of here now.

  Grabbing the handle, I push at the door. It gasps open with such a fierce gust of air that I’m thrown backward. My shoulder bangs into a metal shelf. I’m surprised my shoulder doesn’t hurt until I realize I’m still wearing my backpack and it cushioned me like an reverse airbag. The tack room door creaks on its hinges, back and forth, until a swift gust of wind slams the door shut. Metal shakes so violently, I’m tossed off my feet.

  I reach up to steady myself and grab a handful of hay from a large bale perched over my head. The truck lurches. The hay bale tips over, crashing down on me.

  My world is eclipsed by a dark-yellow shade of panic.

  Choking, hurting, buried in hay, I try to push upward and struggle to breathe. Hay is in my mouth and my hair, and itching my skin. Finally, I push aside the bale and stagger to my feet. I can breathe again, although I’m a little dizzy and feel like I might vomit.

  Must. Get. Out.

  But we’ve picked up speed, and I’m afraid to try opening the door again.

  Don’t freak out, I tell myself. Calm down and think logically.

  Caleb is probably headed for Nevada, which is over a hundred miles away. He has to stop somewhere along the way, right? Either for gas or food or to use the restroom. When he stops, I can escape. But that would mean leaving Zed.

  I come up with a plan to rescue us both. When the truck stops, I’ll wait till Caleb is busy, then unlatch the back trailer and go after Zed. I’ll untie him, then lead him out of the trailer. We’ll find someplace to hide and wait for Caleb to drive away. I’ll find a security guard or store clerk, and beg to use the phone to call for help. By the time Caleb realizes he’s pulling an empty trailer, he’ll be miles away and Zed will be safe with me.

  Okay, there are a few problems with this plan, but it’s the best I can do while stuck in a vibrating, hay-filled room. I’m jostled between saddles and ropes and shelves of horse equipment, making staying on my feet a challenge. Whenever Caleb changes lanes, I’m tossed to one side and have to grab on to a shelf for support. While my backpack is a great cushion, it makes keeping my balance hard.

  I wiggle one arm out of the backpack at a time. The pack slips down with a thud to the hay-sprinkled floor. If only this were my spy pack. But it’s not, so it has no lock picks, flashlight, or other spy tools. All I have are textbooks, pens, pencils, notepaper, gum, a pair of striped socks, two quarters, a granola bar, and the totally useless house phone. If Becca or Leo were locked inside a tack room, they’d whip out their cell phones and call for help.

  At least I won’t starve, I think as I rip open the granola bar.

  As I chew, I mentally map out where we’re going. We turned right onto Wild Road, so we should be driving past downtown Sun Flower. I imagine the businesses we pass: O’Hara Realty, Blooming Florist, the bank, and a gas station—the only gas station for thirty miles until the freeway.

  I bite my lip and hope, hope, hope he’ll turn into the gas station. I know the clerk, Mr. Chang, because he used to work with Dad until Café Belmond closed.

  But instead of slowing, the truck picks up speed. Caleb must have a full tank. I’m stuck here until he gets hungry or needs a restroom. Drats.

  As miles and minutes rattle by, my fear grows.

  Instead of imagining my escape, I sink to the floor with a sense of doom. What will happen if I’m still trapped here when Caleb reaches his destination?

  I huddle against the metal wall, not sure if I’m shaking because of the vibrations from the trailer or because of my fears. I huddle in a ball against the bale of hay, my arms wrapped around my bent knees.

  If Caleb isn’t going to return Zed to his grandmother, where is he headed? If he’s after revenge, like his sister thinks, he won’t hurt Zed in a public place. He’ll drive somewhere remote, where no one can hear Zed’s cries.

  What will Caleb do if he finds me?

  Jumping to my feet, I look around desperately. If there were a window, I could wave to attract attention. But there’s only the solid steel door. I rub my elbow where it’s sore from my last fall. I’m afraid to try the door again, but it’s my only way out.

  I reach a shaky hand for the handle.

  Whoosh! Wind pushes against the door like an invisible wall. But I push hard as I turn the handle and blink into bright daylight. I’m careful not to open the door all the way, only a few inches. I look down and pavement rushes by. Hay swirls a cyclone from my feet to my face, like a swarm of itchy bees. Straw flies up my nose, and I sneeze so hard I almost fall backward.


  The truck swerves right and picks up speed. My heart jumps into my throat as I realize we’re on the freeway.

  Slumping down to the floor, I try not to cry.

  Okay, I’ll admit I cry a little. But when I dry my eyes, I feel stronger. I may be alone in here, but I have friends and family who are probably already looking for me. Becca will know I’m in trouble if she checks her phone messages or finds my bike. She’ll tell her mother, who will tell her friend Sheriff Fischer. They might even think I’ve been kidnapped and put out an AMBER Alert.

  All I have to do is to wait for rescue.

  But what if Becca doesn’t check her phone? No one may notice my bike because it’s hidden in the bushes. And my school won’t check on me because Mom told them I was going to be late. My mother will think I’m at Becca’s. Becca will think I went to school. By the time anyone misses me, I’ll be across the state line.

  Guess I’ll have to rescue myself.

  If Becca were in my situation, her cell phone would connect her with instant support from a network of friends. Leo would figure out some techno-clever way of transmitting an SOS to authorities.

  But me?

  Listening and watching are what I do best. I think back to news reports of people trapped in car trunks who escaped by kicking out taillights. I’m trapped in a steel cage, speeding over fifty miles an hour. If I jump out the door, I’ll be a kid-sized splatter on the freeway.

  Still, if I can get the door to stay open, I can attract attention by waving for help.

  I turn the handle and push hard. Air rushes into the tack room. I lean my arm out as far as I can and wave frantically. Unfortunately, the tack room door is on the right side of the trailer, and since large vehicles keep to the right lane, the only living creatures to look my way are random cows.

  I hear cars roaring passed in the left lane. I can’t see them, and they can’t see me. I’d have to lean out dangerously far to be seen by the vehicles behind us.