Mystery at Saddle Creek (9 page)

11

 

JUSTICE FOR THE INNOCENT

Tan felt no pain. He felt nothing. Was he dead? If he was dead, would he know? Pinkness was everywhere. Humming sounds. Was this heaven?

DINNER THAT NIGHT was very simple. Hannah, Paul, Julia and Bird sat around the table listening to the radio as they ate steamed hot dogs and a leafy green salad. Everyone was extremely tired, but most especially Bird. It had been a very long day. First the haying, then the barn fire, and finally the retrieval of the wild man. She was worn out. In spite of her afternoon nap, she was more than ready for an early night.

Lucky lay under the table, hoping for a sloppy or benevolent eater. Hot dogs were his favourite food in the whole world.

“Good job trimming Bird's hair,” Julia said to Hannah as she squeezed mustard onto her bun. “She looks a whole lot better.”

Paul grinned at Bird. “Almost normal.”

Bird grimaced.

“It'll grow out before you know it,” smiled Hannah. “I took off some singed parts, and the back is just fine.”

Bird didn't really care, she was so tired.

“I've called Mundells to fix the front door,” Hannah told Paul before taking a bite. “If they can't fix it, they'll replace it with something nice.”

“And solid, I hope,” replied Paul. “Sunny splintered it with one kick!”

So she hadn't been dreaming after all, Bird thought.

“Who's going to look after the horses next door?” asked Julia.

“Bunny and Guy are already home,” answered Paul. “They got on a plane the minute they heard. The horses are happy living outside in their shelters, and the new barn will be built by the winter.”

Hannah passed the salad bowl to Bird for a second helping. “They're very grateful to you for saving their horses' lives.”

Bird was very grateful to Cody and the wild man for saving hers. When she saw Bunny and Guy, she'd tell them how the man had helped get their horses out. Or write them a note, she thought wryly. Unless her voice came back after a good night's sleep. That would be very nice.

An item on the radio caught their attention. Paul turned up the volume.

“Breaking news. CHKO has just learned that a man identified as Pierre Hall was seriously injured in the barn fire in Caledon reported earlier this afternoon. He has been airlifted to Sunnybrook Hospital in Toronto. The barn was owned by Guy and Bunny Linwood. No further details are available, due to an ongoing investigation. Arson is suspected.”

“They think somebody did it on purpose!” gasped Julia.

“They came to question Cliff about it!” exclaimed Hannah. “The nerve! I told them I hoped they weren't suggesting that Cliff had anything to do with it. He was in the barn with us all day putting up the hay, and he would be the last person on the face of the earth to start a fire in a barn full of horses!”

Julia and Bird nodded with indignation. “The very last person!” said Julia.

Hannah's face flushed pink as she continued. “Cliff got a threatening note, just like Pierre. Philip Butler got one, too. I asked the officers if Cliff 's and Pierre's lives were in danger as well! And is my barn next?”

“Good questions, Hannah.” Paul spoke calmly, trying to settle things down. “We're all a little tense about this. You have to admit, it's been pretty unusual around here, but the police are working hard.”

Hannah wasn't quite ready to calm down. “If it turns out that the fire was intentional, and Pierre dies, then it's another murder!”

“There are bound to be more reports,” said Paul, switching to another station.

“This just in. An unnamed source reveals that a group calling themselves Justice for the Innocent has been threatening suspects in the Sandra Hall case. Sources close to police tell us that they are hinting at more violence.”

“‘Justice for the Innocent'? What the heck?” Paul muttered.

“More violence? Did this group set the fire?” Hannah asked.

Paul pursed his lips. “It sounds like people are wondering.”

They continued to listen:
“Police spokesman Daryll Singh had this to say: ‘Someone, or some people, burned down the Linwood's barn and injured Pierre Hall. We strongly suspect that this was arson. If you have any information, we ask that you come forward. If you were involved in this incident, police want to talk to you. Also, we are doing everything in our power to find Sandra Hall's killer. We have interviewed several people and have followed up hundreds of tips phoned in by the public. Search teams with helicopters and dogs have combed the area. We ask that people remain calm and leave both investigations in the hands of the police.'”

Paul switched stations again. By now, they were all on the edge of their seats.

“A word from Police Chief Mack Jones.”
They listened to a short clip asking the citizens of Caledon for an end to the violence, and to do their civic duty by reporting unusual incidents.

The announcer continued:
“There you have it. A plea from the police. Now, just in, we have a taped interview with Guy Linwood, the owner of the burned barn.”

Guy's voice sounded angry.
“This is ridiculous. If this fire has anything to do with some kind of revenge scenario, it's pure craziness. We're innocent people here! This fire was an abomination!”

“Breaking news! An unidentified man who helped save ten horses today in the Caledon barn fire that threatened the life of local man Pierre Hall was taken by ambulance to get medical attention for his burn-related injuries. Sources at the Orangeville Hospital say he will not be released until he can be identified. The man is in stable condition.”

Julia looked confused. “Stable? Like a barn?”

“Stable means he's not getting worse. That's good news,” said Hannah. “Nice work, Bird.” She smiled at her niece.

Paul nodded. “You're astounding. It's a mystery to me how you got him home on Sunny's back.”

Julia nodded. “Sundancer, the terror of the show ring. And here he is, hauling bodies up the Escarpment like a pack mule!” She grinned proudly at her big sister.

Bird smiled back, warmed by all the praise.

“Speaking of Sunny and the show ring,”interrupted Hannah, “Sunny showed signs of colic this afternoon. We'll have to keep an eye on him.”

Paul crossed his arms thoughtfully.“It wasn't colic, Hannah. His temperature was normal and there was normal bowel noise. He wasn't sweating. I have no idea what the tail rotation was all about.”

Sunny had certainly done a good job of distracting them, Bird thought as she busied herself with her hot dog.

“And the head tossing,” added Hannah with concern. “Maybe wasps? I remember when Lady Olivia had wasp bites in her mouth. I thought it might be rabies.”

“Hmm. There were no signs of bites. No swelling, no bumps, no stinger marks. But he certainly was in distress.”

Bird looked hard at her plate. She fought to control her urge to laugh. She'd bring him an extra apple.

“Let's just watch him for a while,” said Paul. “I'll check him tonight before bed.”

“If there's anything at all wrong, he won't be able to show on Friday, Bird,” Hannah declared. “And I know how much you were looking forward to it.”

Now Bird had to turn away. This was too much. Her face darkened with suppressed laughter, and Julia noticed. Her eyes widened. “Don't cry, Bird! He'll be all right! He was well enough to carry the wild man up the Escarpment!”

Julia's concern brought Bird back from the brink. She patted her sister's arm and smiled, possibly too brightly.

“True, Julia. He's probably just fine. As I said, I'll check on him tonight.” Paul turned very serious. “There's growing concern, though, about the man that Bird and Sunny rescued today. I'm hearing a lot of chat and speculation.”

“From whom, Paul?” asked Hannah.

“He was the main topic at every farm I went to this morning.” Paul put down his fork and wiped his mouth on his napkin. “You can't really blame them. Nobody knows him. He showed up when Sandra Hall was killed, and he lives in a cave or the woods or something. People are worried that he's the killer.”

Bird knew that Paul was right. Why wouldn't people worry? Everybody is afraid of things they don't understand, and Bird had wondered the same thing herself.

The phone rang, and Hannah stood to answer it.

“Hello?... Oh, hi!” She looked at Julia and mouthed, “Liz's mother.” Hannah listened, concern creasing her brow. “Oh, Patty! Is he all right?... For sure ... Look, why don't you all stay here tonight ... I understand ... Okay, sure, whatever works for you. Let me know how we can help.”

Hannah slowly hung up the phone and turned to face her family. “Phil went to the police station this afternoon to give them his threatening note. He was bumped by a car just as he came out. The car didn't stop. It was a close call, but he wasn't hurt. He went back in and told the police. Now they're looking for a beige, four-door, late-model sedan, North American make. Phil had his car keys in his hand and he's pretty sure he scratched the fender.”

Paul nodded. “That'll help identify the car.”

“Can Liz stay here tonight?” Concern for her friend was written on Julia's face.

“Mrs. Brown thinks they'll go to her mother's in Barrie, just for a few days.”

Hannah sat quietly with her elbows on the table, chin resting in the palm of her hands. Bird had never really noticed Hannah's age before, but now her face seemed to sag with worry. Bird moved over and patted her aunt's shoulder. Hannah reached out and squeezed Bird's hand with her own.

The phone rang again, and this time Paul picked up. Bird could tell it was Patty calling back. “Sorry to hear about ... Right ... Do the police know?... Good ... Thanks for telling us ... You take care of yourself.”

It was Paul's turn to relay the conversation. “Patty found a note in her mailbox. It said that next time Phil wouldn't be so lucky.”

This is getting worse and worse, thought Bird. The hit and run hadn't been an accident, and she guessed that neither had the barn fire. Who were these people? Before, things had always felt so safe at Saddle Creek Farm. They'd never even bothered to lock their doors. None of the neighbours had, either. Now everything was locked up tight; now, everything was different. Bird hated this new uneasy feeling.

An awful thought jolted her. What about Cliff? Of the four suspects, he was the only one who hadn't had something bad happen today. Phil had been targeted by a car, and Pierre Hall and the wild man were in different hospitals, fighting for their lives. She grabbed a pen and piece of paper from the desk beside the phone and scribbled:
Is Cliff safe?
She showed it to Hannah, who passed it to Paul. Julia looked over his shoulder.

“You're right, Bird,” said Hannah. “He could be in danger at this very moment.”

Hannah and Paul got up from the table.“Julia,”said Hannah. “Get the dishes done. Bird gets a break tonight. Then both of you get ready for bed. We'll try to persuade Cliff to stay with us.”

Julia started clearing the table. Bird changed radio stations until she found one with only music and turned up the volume to the max. They'd had enough bad news for one day. Bird's battered body found new life as she moved with the music, and Julia danced around the kitchen as she worked. By the time Hannah and Paul returned, the dishes were done and Julia was wildly sweeping the floor as she shouted out lyrics.

“Turn down the radio!” yelled Hannah. “I can't hear myself think.”

Paul grinned at the girls. “Cliff says he'll be fine. He refuses to sleep here.”

“He told us that Boss wouldn't settle down over here and that he'd drive us crazy barking,” Hannah added. “That's probably true. But he'll call if there's anything that worries him.”

“He's stubborn, that Cliff,” smiled Paul. “A true country man.”

“And ingenious. He's rigged up a tripwire that sets off a siren. If anyone tries to get near his place, the whole neighbourhood will know! Now, get to bed, you two,” Hannah ordered. “It's been a very long day.”

Bird's body was exhausted. As soon as her head hit the pillow, she fell into a deep sleep. Around two in the morning, however, she awoke. Must be because I slept most of the afternoon, she thought. I'll just lie here for a while and drift back to sleep.

She turned onto her right side and breathed deeply. She turned onto her left and counted sheep. Then she rolled over onto her back, and flipped onto her front. She recited the alphabet backwards from Z to A. She counted backwards from one hundred.

At number forty-four, Bird heard a sound downstairs. It was Lucky, scratching at the kitchen door. Keeping her end of their bargain, Bird got up to let him out. She pulled her soft sweats over her nightie and crept downstairs.

Thanks, Bird. I don't want to make any more mistakes.

You did the right thing by scratching at the door. You can try whining, or barking, too, if nobody hears.
She opened the door to let out the grateful dog.

That's when she saw headlights at the end of the lane. A car was stopped at their mailbox, facing north. Bird tensed. She couldn't see the car, only the lights. She wondered what she should do if it came up their lane, but when the car moved it drove up the road, away from Saddle Creek. No need to decide.

A second later, Bird stepped outside into the dark night. There were no stars out, and the moon was hidden behind clouds. She stumbled down the lane, feeling her way step by step until she reached the mailbox. She lifted the metal flap and reached inside. Her hand felt a letter. She pulled it out. The envelope was addressed to Cliff, in heavy ink. There was no address, just his first name.

Who would deliver a letter at two in the morning? Bird normally didn't open other people's mail, but this was different— lately, notes in mailboxes meant only one thing. She ripped open the envelope. In the dark, Bird could barely make out the words.

What happened to Pierre could happen to you. You're not safe until someone admits to killing Sandra Hall.

Just what she'd thought. Another letter like Pierre's and Phil's. Bird's head reeled. Were these people trying to scare all the suspects into admitting guilt? It didn't make any sense. They couldn't all be guilty! It was ridiculous and scary and wrong. Bird folded the note and tucked it into the pocket of her sweatpants.

She'd have to tell Hannah, of course. The only question was whether to wake her or wait until morning. Bird was still trying to decide when headlights shone from up the road. A car was coming. Bird jumped behind the fence and waited. She didn't want to take any chances, just in case it was the same car. Slowly, it rolled closer. Now, right beside her at the end of their lane, it stopped. It must be the same car. Who else would stop by in the middle of the night? Bird held her breath.

The driver's door opened, and a man got out. He walked around the back of the car to the mailbox. The headlights in Bird's eyes made it impossible for her to get a good look at him.

He was on a cellphone, talking. “I hear you now ... On the radio?... Okay, okay, I'm getting it.” Bird could hear the sound of the man's hand searching around the mailbox. “Wait. It's not here.”

Bird's skin broke out in goosebumps.

“I said, it's not here, pal ... What're ya saying?... Yeah, I'm sure I put it in. Less than five minutes ago!” He leaned over and felt around on the ground. “No, I didn't drop it. What do you think? I'm clumsy?”

Bird stayed as still as a mouse. The man walked in front of the car, and was suddenly lit by the headlights. Bird memorized his bulky shape and rough physical manner. Brown hair cut short, nondescript features, clean-shaven face. Nothing special or memorable, except for a surly demeanour and a sloppy way of walking.

“Look, pal, go easy here. The note's gone ... I don't know how ... This is getting a little too intense ... What, tonight?... I need sleep, too!... Which hospital? Orangeville?... Man!... Okay, I'll do it after I find a gas station. I'm riding on empty, and I need a sandwich.”

The man pocketed his cellphone, muttering to himself, then got back in the car and drove off.

The Orangeville Hospital. Bird shuddered. He could only be talking about one thing. The wild man was in the Orangeville Hospital. She'd saved his life once today; she wasn't about to let anything happen to him now.