Mystery at Saddle Creek

by Shelley Peterson

  “I’ll talk to Fiona tomorrow, Kim.”

  “It’s six o’clock.” Paul reached over and turned on the radio. “I wonder if the news will mention the meeting.”

  “Good evening. In our top story tonight, Tanbark Wedger, the son of businessman Kenneth Bradley, has gone missing. Hurt in the barn fire in Caledon, he is now being sought by police and medical officials.”

  Bird stopped chewing.

  “What did it say?” asked Julia.

  “Shh!” Hannah turned up the volume.

  “Sometime around three this afternoon, Mr. Wedger disappeared from Headwaters Hospital in Orangeville. His father, Kenneth Bradley, has put out a reward of ten thousand dollars for any information that leads to his son’s safe return. If you see Mr. Wedger, please do not approach him. He has a mental disorder that causes him to be highly unpredictable when confused. Call 1-800-444-TIPS if you think you see him, and again, DO NOT approach him.”

  Poor Tanbark, thought Bird. People will think he’s a maniac.

  “In related news, the group calling itself Justice for the Innocent held a rally at the Palston Horse Show today at two o’clock. An estimated one hundred signatures were gathered on a petition to drop charges regarding the barn fire that injured Tanbark Wedger, and is threatening the life of Pierre Hall. Police were standing by, but it was a peaceful gathering.”

  “How can they say that?” Julia demanded. “It wasn’t peaceful at all! Philip Butler was embarrassed and everybody was yelling!”

  Paul explained. “What they mean is that no punches were thrown.”

  “Then why didn’t they say that?” Julia was upset.

  “The bigger problem is that Tanbark ran away from the hospital,” said Hannah quietly. “He shouldn’t be without medical attention.”

  “He’s burned and in pain,” said Paul. “I don’t know where he’ll go.”

  Bird thought she knew. Right now Tanbark was probably working his way back to Saddle Creek Farm. Where else would he go? He would be stealthy about it, staying away from people and drinking out of creeks and ponds. He’d find cover in the daylight, and travel at night. She guessed that in a day or two he’d be peeking in their windows and causing Lucky and Sunny concern.

  “He doesn’t like to wear anything but his shorts,” said Julia. “They could follow his clothes trail.”

  “Good idea,” said Kimberly. “Let’s see. There’s his hospital gown. Then his slippers. If he dropped them all in different places the trail would dry up before he’d crossed the parking lot.”

  Julia grimaced at her. “At least I had an idea. What’s yours?”

  “Come on, girls,” said Hannah. “Clear the table. The pie is ready.”

  “Pie!” chirped Julia. “Nothing in the world is as delicious as Aunt Hannah’s rhubarb and cream cheese pie.”

  “Is there enough for me?” asked a woman’s voice as the door slapped open.

  Lucky shot out from under the table and started barking.

  “Keep that animal away from me!”

  Lucky scooted back under the table with his tail tucked between his legs. Bird understood why. This woman had that effect on every creature.

  “Mom!” exclaimed Kimberly. “You scared us! Why didn’t you knock?”

  Lavinia looked askance at her daughter. “It’s a screen door. Who knocks on a screen door?”

  “You’re always welcome, Lavinia,” said Hannah. “And of course there’s enough pie. More than enough.”

  Paul pulled an extra chair to the table. “Have a seat,” he said as he swept his arm down like a waiter.

  Lavinia sat between Kimberly and Paul. “Thank you, Paul. Do you have coffee, Hannah? Decaf no-fat latte?”

  Hannah was bent over the oven taking out the pie. She stopped midway. “Decaf ... no-fat ... latte?”

  “Yes. With artificial sweetener. Half a packet, well stirred. I hate it when all the sweetness comes at the bottom, don’t you, Paul?” She almost batted her eyelashes.

  Hannah raised her eyebrows at Paul and resisted the impulse to laugh. “I can make a decaffeinated cup of coffee with hot skim milk, but I don’t have any artificial sweetener.”

  “No problem — I carry my own. There’s a new product I like, and I refuse to use anything else.” She reached into her purse and brandished a small package of stevia.

  Kimberly sank her head to the table but not before she rolled her eyes at Bird and Julia.

  “Now,” said Lavinia. “I want to hear all about this Moonshine Regatta.”

  Everybody laughed. The mangling of the mare’s name gave them all an excuse to get the giggles out of their systems. They couldn’t stop for a couple of minutes, because every time the laughter got under control, somebody would start up again.

  Lavinia raised her arms dramatically. “I’m not finding anything funny. Tell me what you’re laughing about. This minute.”

  Paul was able to speak first. “It’s the mare’s name. It’s not Moonshine Regatta.” He began to laugh again but pretended that he needed to clear his throat. “Excuse me, please.”

  “It’s Moonlight Sonata, Mom,” said Kimberly. “Like Beethoven wrote.”

  “You were laughing at me.” Lavinia pouted and crossed her arms.

  Bird knew this could get ugly. Lavinia hated anybody laughing at her.

  Hannah came to the rescue. “It’s a brilliant name, Lavinia. Moonshine Regatta. I’d name a horse that in a flash.”

  Paul backed her up. “It makes me think of a sailing boat race in Prohibition days. The moon shining on water. Very evocative.”

  Kimberly mouthed, “They’re sucking up,” and the girls giggled again.

  “That’s true,” sighed Lavinia poetically. “It is a beautiful name. So, what is her actual name again?”

  “Moon ... light So ... na ... ta, Mom,” Kimberly groaned. “Moonlight Sonata.”

  Lavinia waved her fingers in the air. “Okay, already. So tell me, Hannah. Kimberly said she won. First. Over Bird and Sundancer.”

  Hannah nodded as she scooped vanilla ice cream into a big bowl and set it on the table beside the pie. “She certainly did, Lavinia. Kimberly and Moonie—”

  “You cannot call her Moonie,” Lavinia interrupted. “That’s horrible.”

  Kimberly looked at her mother directly. “It’s a ‘stable name,’ Mom. And only the greatest horses have one.”

  “In that case, it’s all right. You were saying, Hannah?”

  “Kimberly and Moonie were an instant team. They were right in sync from the beginning.” Hannah started passing out plates of pie and ice cream.

  “To be totally honest, Mom,” Kimberly interrupted, “Moonie jumped two jumps without my help. I was paralyzed with fear and only shook out of it when she bucked.”

  Lavinia gasped. “She bucked? Is that good?”

  “Yes! A little wake-up buck. It was good that she did it, too, or things would’ve ended very differently.”

  “You mean you wouldn’t have won?”

  “Right.We wouldn’t have won.” Kimberly and Bird exchanged a look. Lavinia cared more about winning than her daughter’s safety.

  “Well, I want to sell Pastor ASAP and buy Moonie. I don’t want two horses on the payroll. Hannah, make that happen, will you?”

  “Mom!” exclaimed Kimberly.

  “What? Pastor’s won third, once. He’s never even come close to winning a first. Moonie did today, first time out.”

  “It’s about more than winning, Mom! Pastor’s a great horse and I love him.” Kim crossed her arms defensively.

  “Get over it, Kimberly. I pay good money here, and I pay for firsts. Now, I really don’t need pie, so let’s get going.” Lavinia stood up and smoothed her blouse over her flat belly. “Kimberly? We have to go.”

  Hannah had seen this coming. It had happened before. She handed Kimberly a big piece of rhubarb pie and ice cream, securely protected in a used plastic yogurt container. “Enjoy your dessert Kimberly.” She tousled Kimberly’s aubu
rn curls and handed her a fork. “Bring it back tomorrow. Again, congratulations on a really good day.”

  Kimberly’s eyes shone with gratitude, not just for the pie, but for Hannah’s praise and understanding.

  Bird stood and hugged her best friend goodbye.

  “See you tomorrow, Bird?” Kimberly asked. Bird nodded and grinned, licking her lips and glancing at the pie plate. There’d be leftovers to finish off.

  Lavinia opened the screen door. “Let’s go, Kimberly! Hannah? You heard me about Moonbeam Sonata. Make it happen.”

  The kitchen door slammed shut. Stifling snickers at the face Kimberly made behind Lavinia’s back, they watched as mother and daughter got in a shiny new white BMW coupe and roared down the drive.

  22

  THE VISIT

  Tan waited. He had to be patient. So far, his plan was unfolding exactly as he’d wished. He’d fooled everybody from the people walking down the hall to the old lady at the reception desk. It wasn’t all luck, either. It was smarts—and skill.

  It felt so good to be free! The fresh night air, the wild energy, the feel of dirt and grass under his feet! But now it was crucial that he reach the girl. He needed her help. He watched the farmhouse. Patience. He had waited this long; he could wait a little longer.

  LUCKY’S WHINING WOKE BIRD. She opened one eye. The clock on her bedside table read four-fifteen. It was practically the middle of the night! But then Bird heard something else. It wasn’t only Lucky making noise. Through the open window she could hear Sunny racing around outside in his field. Shaking the sleep out of her head, she stumbled to her window. The night was pitch black. No moon or stars were out to light the countryside. She couldn’t see a thing.

  Sunny! What’s happening out there?

  No response.

  Sunny? Can you hear me?

  Still no response. Sunny was panicking, and his mind was closed — he’d switched into his flight reflex. It must be bad.

  Bird quickly pulled on jeans and a sweatshirt over her nightgown, and slid her feet into her sneakers. She crept downstairs, careful not to wake anyone else. She had to calm Sunny, or he might colic or twist an intestine.

  Lucky? What’s going on?

  Intruder! Intruder! The dog sounded one shrill, urgent bark.

  Shh! Should I let you out?

  Yes! Yes!

  Will you be in danger?

  No! No! Let me out! Let me out!

  Bird unlocked and opened the inside door. Lucky shot outside as she reached out to hold open the screen. At the same instant, a man’s hand grabbed her arm.

  Bird stiffened. She tried to pull back her arm, but his grip was too strong. The hairs all over her body stood up. Where was Lucky? Bird tried to scream, but nothing came out. She held tight to the door frame and refused to be pulled outside.

  Terrified, she braced herself with her right leg and walked her fingers along the wall until she found the switch. She flicked on the kitchen lights. In the flood of light, Bird saw who was holding her arm. It was Tanbark Wedger, smiling at her, with a bandage over his forehead.

  Lucky sniffed at his leg. It’s the guy who saved you and the horses. No problem. He picked up a scent in the garden and followed it away.

  In a split second, Bird’s fear disappeared and was replaced by fury. Tanbark had scared her silly.

  The fly swatter hung beside the light switch, and Bird took it in her free hand. She wound up and swatted Tanbark’s shoulder with all her strength. He jumped back and dropped her arm. “Ouch!”

  She glared at him and brushed herself off. Nobody had the right to manhandle her, mentally ill or not.

  “You hurt me! I’ve got burns! You didn’t have to hit me.”

  Bird glared at him harder and put her hands on her hips.

  “That hurt! But forget it. I really need to talk to you. I need to tell you what happened, and I can’t tell anybody else.”

  Bird took a long look at him. This was the first time he’d spoken to her. She saw the urgency in his eyes — and the need. If he’d escaped from the hospital and travelled this far so fast to tell her something, she really wanted to hear what he had to say.

  The sound of footsteps interrupted them. Paul was coming down the stairs. Quickly. Bird put her index finger to her lips.

  Tanbark dropped back in the shadows beside the door.

  Paul was now in the room. “Bird? Is that you? Lucky woke me up. Is someone here? I thought I heard a man’s voice.”

  Bird didn’t want Paul to scare Tanbark away. If she could only talk, she could explain it to Paul. She opened her mouth and tried hard. Nothing.

  “Bird? Close the door. The bugs’ll come in.” Paul stepped closer. “Did I hear a voice? Bird?” Paul was beside her now, and Bird could sense his curiosity about why she was acting so strangely. Then he saw the figure outside in the shadows. He stiffened with uncertainty. “Hello there?”

  Tanbark backed away. His face caught the light and Paul recognized him.

  Bird took a step between them to slow Paul down.

  “Stand back, Bird.” Paul put his hand out. “Easy now, Tanbark,” he said gently, ignoring Bird. “Nobody’s going to hurt you.” Paul slowly approached. “Why don’t you come inside? We have some delicious food left over from dinner.”

  Tanbark looked wary. With every step that Paul took forward, he stepped back. Bird sensed his growing anxiety.

  Paul’s face was that of a hunter stalking his game. If Bird could read Paul so easily, Tanbark could, too. Using her eyes and chin she tried to tell Paul to back off or Tanbark would run. Paul didn’t pay any heed, and stepped slowly closer and closer.

  Sunny messaged her. Bird.

  Sunny.

  He came downwind. I went crazy. I didn’t know it was the wild man.

  He came to talk to me.

  He wants to run and hide.

  What should I do?

  Nothing. Let him run.

  Just then, Tanbark jumped back, spun around and raced amazingly fast across the front field. Paul stood there, watching him go.

  Sunny let him run right past. The big chestnut horse nodded his head up and down. Was I right or was I right?

  You were right.

  Paul turned to Bird, concern on his face. “Are you okay?”

  Bird nodded.

  “I’ll call the police. They should know he showed up here. Kenneth Bradley should know, too. He’s worried sick.”

  Bird shook her head. She walked quickly into the kitchen and plucked a pencil out of the cup. She grabbed the pad of paper and wrote: Don’t call police. Not Grandfather, 2. Something’s wrong. Tanbark wants 2 talk 2 me. He knows things.

  “He can tell the police. We have to be sensible, here.”

  He wants 2 tell me, not the police! Wait ’til he tells me, or we’ll never know.

  Paul thought about it. “I can’t promise that, Bird. We don’t know when, or even if, he’ll come back, do we? But I’ll make a compromise. I won’t call tonight. They wouldn’t be able to find him anyway.”

  Thanks, she scribbled.

  “Understand, Bird, Tanbark needs medical attention. You know that. I’m calling first thing in the morning.” He looked at the clock on the kitchen wall. “Which is two hours from now.We can’t leave him out there alone in the woods and in need of help.”

  Bird nodded. She knew Paul was right. But she also had a funny feeling that Tanbark would be safer in the woods. He was strange, but she didn’t think he was dangerous. Bird wanted to hear what he’d come to say, and also why he’d left the hospital in such a hurry. She didn’t have much time to find out.

  Bird waited quietly in her room, listening, until Paul’s snuffly snores became steady. Gathering her courage, she slid on her clothes again, crept down the stairs and made her way outside. Dawn had just broken and the early birds chirped as they searched for their worms. She hopped the fence into Sunny’s field.

  Let’s go for a ride, Sunny.

  I can tell you’re up to some
thing.

  You’re right.

  Say, “As always.”

  Okay. You’re right, as always. I want to find the wild man.

  You’re crazy.

  Probably, but he came here to tell me something and I want to know what.

  You won’t rest until you do, will you?

  No.

  Bird and Sunny travelled along the path to the back of the farm. Riding bareback with neither bridle nor reins, they passed the far fields and the wild, rocky area that was only good for cow pasture. Hannah used to have cows, Bird remembered with a snort, but after their last escape, she’d sold them all and vowed never again. That had been the end of Hannah’s flirtation with using all the acres of Saddle Creek land. Now they just enjoyed riding through the shrubs and rocks and ledges and drops.

  Bird and Sunny came to the lip of the Niagara Escarpment, a rocky deposit left by the glaciers in the Ice Age. Along this same ridge, just a little over a hundred kilometres away, was the famous Niagara Falls. Bird looked down—way down. On one side of a narrow path was a sheer drop. On the other were thorny, tenacious trees, hanging on to the rocky cliff by their roots.

  Last time, when he was burnt in the fire, you went down this way, Bird.

  Let’s do it again. He probably went back to where he was before.

  Nothing to lose — except our lives.

  Very funny, Sunny.

  Let’s go down the way I went. It meets the same path.

  Okay.

  I’m having a nice time. Maybe horse shows are too much stress. They used to be fun.

  They’ll be fun again, Sunny. It was my fault. I was preoccupied and inattentive. Sorry.

  I was pigheaded and belligerent. Sorry.

  Bird smiled broadly as she and Sunny slowly descended into the deep, dark woods at the bottom of the cliff. It was refreshing to have Sunny as her friend and not her enemy. She felt his body stiffen.

  Bird, do you smell that?

  No. What?

  A storm’s coming.

  Now?

  No, but very soon. It makes me nervous.

  Don’t worry, Sunny. We’ll be home before the storm.