Toni Petti - Horse Girl Homicide

Chapter Ten

Terrence's wheelchair creaks and each squeak marks one revolution of a slightly bent wheel. Its rhythmic chirping could be used to measure distance and if multiplied by a perpendicular value, could tally the size of the stable. I count thirty-two chirps to the end, but once we turn the corner, I'm distracted.

Sgt. Evan Laredo and Dr. Jonathan Swansea check papers beside an empty pen marked Cortes. The policeman flips through Jon's binder. The young vet also holds similar documents and they match dates. We're just beyond where I encountered Monica and Delia and where their mares are stabled, but there's no sign of the girls now, or Bernard.

One glance at Jon's face confirms he's a wreck; Terrence notices too and looks away, disgusted. The young man wipes tears from his cheek and appears distraught, and that's understandable. But maybe he's crying to conceal his fear he'll be found criminally liable for misplacing some deadly poison?

Mr. Brummel directs me outside and into a gravel farmyard ringed with machine sheds. What am I doing? When I drove here this morning, I didn't think I'd be sticking around all afternoon and helping the family do chores. Adrenaline still courses through my veins and now I feel a sense of dread like you might experience after committing to do something you've never done before, and for a long period of time. But this is good charity, a real kindness. This terminally ill father just saw his beloved daughter get crushed and carried away in a government helicopter. The very least I can do is help him cope with that. I'll keep my real identity secret and play the naïve schoolgirl and see what I can learn about this place.

We circle around outside the stables until we come to the yearling horses with their heads all draped over the top rail of their pen. The pig snorts and I shudder. I look around for any sign of my rescuer.

Mr. Brummel takes over the wheels to maneuver himself into position in front of the corral. He nods toward a hook-and eye latch on a gatepost.

"You open that bit of fence there. Careful now. Don't let the young ones out."

"Then... Why open it?"

"Just do as I ask."

Six young horses face me and watch with interest as I lift the latch and give the gate a little push. It opens inwards on rusty hinges towards the skittish colts who all stumble back in unison.

"Now stand aside. He's coming."

"Who?" I ask, but already know the answer. I've already met the boss of this pen.

"Jasper. Come on." Terrence calls and the young horses seem bewildered until a hairy donkey pushes through them, ears forward. The creature casts the briefest glance in my direction while strolling through the breach, past me and direct to Mr. Brummel. His ears perk-up as he stands in front of the invalid man.

"Ata boy Jasper. Save my arms." Terrence rolls his chair back to snatch a bit of rope off the wall. He holds six feet of heavy hawser with a frayed loop on the end. I'm still puzzled over his plan, until it becomes obvious. "Come on Jas."

Donkey understands exactly what's required. The intelligent creature bows his head so the rancher can slip the rope loop over his neck. He turns and struggles away and the cord snugs on his shoulders as he pulls Terrence's wheelchair.

"Good boy." Mr. Brummel looks around and seems surprised to find me still standing by the open gate. He frowns with impatience. "Come on. Lock it, and let's go."

I startle the skittish colts away as I pull the gate shut. After I hook-it closed, I have to sprint to keep up with Jasper and Terrence. I marvel at their teamwork, but it's not a perfect system. The donkey has laboured breathing because the rope blocks his windpipe. We cross through the back of the complex and Jasper pulls the charioteer over the gravel without complaint or adjustment.