Call Of The Witch (23 page)

“
Mister Haywood, have you
seen Kelly Brewbaker in the last few days?”

“
Kelly? No. Why? Is
everything all right?”

“
When was the last time
you saw her?”

His eyes drifted to the left briefly before
returning to mine. “Guess it was Tuesday afternoon. Four o’clock.
That’s her usual time.”

“
For riding?”

“
No, for clarinet lessons.
Of course riding. Kelly’s an advanced beginner. Her specialty is
the Hunt Seat discipline of riding. It’s her calves, you
know.”

“
Excuse me?”

“
Her legs, Detective.
She’s a small girl, but she has marvelous calf muscles.”

“
Probably from dancing,”
said Carlos.

I looked at him and shook my head no. He
crowded his brows at me. The horse reared its head and snorted.
Carlos shushed him, stroked his snout gently and soothed him
quiet.

“
She’s a good rider, is
she?” I said to Haywood. “Do you ever spend any one-on-one time
with her?”

“
One-on-one?”

“
Are you ever alone with
her?”

“
Detective, what exactly
are you getting at?”

“
I’m just trying to
determine your relationship with Kelly.”

“
My relationship with
Kelly, as with all my students, is strictly professional. Sure,
she’s exceptional. She takes her lessons very seriously. You know
she’s the only one in her age group with her own tack.”

“
Tack?”

Carlos said, “Her saddle and bridle.”

“
Oh.”

“
It’s because she’s
dedicated,” Haywood added. “That’s hard to find in kids that age.
Most of my younger students are spoiled little rich kids. Their
parents just want them to learn a sport of the privileged so they
can talk about them in their high-brow circles.” He shook his head.
“But not Kelly. She’s smart. She knows how to train her thoughts
and focus on the prize. We’re thinking next year we might enter her
into an AHSA event for pre-teens.”

“
AHSA?”

Again Carlos answered, “American Horse Shows
Association.”

“
I see.”

Haywood crossed his arms at his chest and
threw his shoulders back. “Detective, would you mind telling me
what this is all about?”

“
Mister Haywood. Kelly’s
missing,” I said, and I waited to gauge his expression.
Surprisingly, it didn’t change much.

“
Missing?”

Carlos said, “Actually, she been––”

I shut him down with a glare before he could
say the word, kidnapped. “Been missing a couple of days now,” I
finished.

Haywood’s posture softened. “That’s
terrible,” he said, but I sensed a lack of conviction in his
voice.

“
Yes it is. We’re very
worried. So you understand why we’re out talking to everyone she
might have come in contact with over the last several
days.”

“
Of course. But I don’t
understand how I can help you. As I said, I haven’t seen Kelly
since her riding lessons this past Tuesday.”

“
Mister Haywood, we
noticed that you and Kelly are friends on Facebook.”

I watched his expression grow cold. “Is that
a crime?”

“
No. I’m curious though if
your friends include any of your other students.”

“
No, Detective, they
don’t, though you’ll probably want to verify that
yourself.”

“
Probably. I noticed also
noticed that you and Kelly have done a fair amount of private
messaging back and forth. Do you think that’s ethical?”

“
Ethical? I’m her riding
coach, not her English teacher. I’m paid to work with her on a
personal basis, sometimes that means communicating with her over
the internet.”

“
But you don’t communicate
over the internet with your other students.”

He seemed to shrink from that. “As I said,
Kelly is exceptional, as a student I mean.”

“
Of course. In your last
message to Kelly you mentioned that you were looking forward to
seeing her Saturday. Did you two have plans for getting together
yesterday?”

“
No. I was talking about
next Saturday. Kelly’s lesson for next Tuesday is canceled because
I have to go out of town on business. Mr. Brewbaker arranged for
her to do a makeup lesson this coming Saturday. You can verify that
yourself, too, if you like.”

“
I’ll be sure to do
that.”

“
Good.”

“
Tell me; aside from the
other kids, did you ever see Kelly talking to anyone else, any
adults?”

“
What do you mean like the
other parents?”

“
I mean
anyone.”

He seemed to give it real consideration
before coming back with a no. Still, I was beginning to believe him
less and less.

“
Is there anything else,
Detective?”

“
Yes, one more thing. Do
you have any other hands working the ranch here during the
week?”

“
Hands?”

“
Stable hands, maintenance
workers, groundskeepers; anyone like that?”

He laughed and shook his head. “Detective,
you’re looking at the stable hand, maintenance worker,
groundskeeper, shoeshine boy and Indian chief. I’m it. I do
everything that needs doing around here.”

“
That must keep you
busy.”

He shrugged lightly. “I got half a dozen
horses, ten students and a love for the outdoors. Horse manure runs
through my veins. What else do I need?”

“
Indeed,” I said. “What
else is there?”

“
Exactly. Now if you don’t
mind. Wearing all those hats keeps me mighty busy.”

I gave him my card. “Call me if you hear
anything, will you?”

“
Sure. You
bet.”

“
We’ll see ourselves to
the gate. Carlos?”

Carlos gave the colt a pat on the neck and a
nod goodbye to Haywood. On the way out of the barn, I gave Carlos a
teasing nudge. “Hey, he seemed to like you. Didn’t he?”

“
Who, Haywood?”

“
No, the colt.”

He laughed. “Oh, yeah, I guess he did.”

“
You know for a guy who
thinks the Olympic Equestrian competitions are for girls and
sissies, you sure seem to know a lot about horses, horse shows and
things like that.”

“
What do you
mean?”

“
You know what I
mean.”

“
What, because I know what
a tack is, or what AHSA stands for?”

“
Yes.”

“
Oh, look,” he said,
pointing at the second barn, and not so tactfully changing the
subject. “We should check that out.”

I let the first subject go and agreed with
the second. Though smaller and older than the first, the second
barn also had a concrete floor and metal walls. The picture the
kidnappers sent us of Kelly showed her sitting on a wooden floor
and leaning against a concrete-block wall. If the photo was taken
in a barn, it certainly didn’t appear to be one of Haywood’s.
Still, the photo showed Kelly sitting among a scattering of straw
or hay. For that reason, it seemed only reasonable to investigate
further.

We entered through a side door and began
looking around independently. There were no electric lights on, but
none were needed. A row of four desk-sized skylights in the ceiling
lit up the interior plenty enough to see by.

I was off in a corner checking out one of the
horse stalls when Carlos called to me.

“
Yo, look at this.” He had
wandered to the back of the barn where a wrought iron staircase
spiraled up to a loft overlooking three other stalls. I joined him
at the bottom of the stairs and looked up at the wooden
plank-and-joist floor above.

“
Interesting,” I said, and
I presented a path up with a sweep of my hand. “After
you.”

He started up the stairs. I followed a few
steps behind him. What we found at the top was not exactly a
smoking gun, but something close.

“
The floor looks the
same,” he said, referring to the photo of Kelly the kidnappers had
emailed us.

“
Yeah, kind of,” I
answered, though not entirely convinced. We found straw on the
floor, remnants I imagined, from bails of hay that were probably
stored up there through the winter. I pointed at the walls. “These
aren’t the same.”

“
It could have been a
staged photo.”

“
You think?”

“
Yeah.”

“
Hmm, maybe. Get some
pictures. We’ll shoot them off to Dominic. See what he
thinks.”

Carlos took out his phone and snapped a few
photos, some with flash and some without. As he did that, I
gathered up some loose straw from the floor and stashed it in my
pocket. In doing that, I noticed something interesting.

“
Carlos. This doesn’t look
right to me.”

“
What doesn’t?”

“
This straw. Does it look
unnatural to you?”

“
What, you think it’s
artificial?”

“
No. I mean the way it’s
laid out. It’s too even.”

“
Yeah, you’re right.” He
came up and shadowed me as I paced the floor looking down for signs
of foot traffic. “I see what you mean. It’s like someone scattered
the hay about in an even carpet to cover something up.”

“
But what?”

“
Maybe a body dragged
across the floor.”

Downstairs, a voice hollered up, “Excuse
me!”

Carlos and I moved to the edge of the
platform and looked over. Russell Haywood looked pissed. Carlos
called down, “Yes?”

“
What the hell are you two
doing up there?”

“
Just looking
around.”

“
I think you’ve overstayed
your welcome. I’d appreciate it if you left now.”

I looked to Carlos. “Have you seen
enough?”

He shrugged. “Sure. You?”

“
For now I
guess.”

“
How `bout
lunch?”

I checked my watch. It was almost one. “Know
of any good places around here?”

“
Sure. You like
seafood?”

“
You know I
do.”

“
The Blue Marlin’s a
little ways up the road.”

“
You been there
before?”

“
Yeah. It’s a nice
place.”

“
All right then. Let’s do
it.”

On the ride to the Blue Marlin, I asked
Carlos what he thought about Russell Haywood.

“
It’s funny,” he said.
“Haywood didn’t seem as concerned as I thought he’d be.”

“
Yeah, I got the same
impression. It sounded as though she were his favorite student. If
he was so fond of her, I’d have expected more concern from him as
well.”

“
And I don’t like the way
he ran us off after he found us up in the loft.”

“
He’s hiding something.
Isn’t he?”

“
You sense it too,
eh?”

“
Hell, Carlos, you know
me. I think everyone’s hiding something.”

“
Why didn’t you want him
to know Kelly was kidnapped?”

“
He didn’t need to know
that. Besides, it’s not public information yet. If he’s not a
suspect, then the last thing we need is for him to go to the press
with that information.”

“
You don’t think he’s a
suspect?”

“
No, I said if he’s not a
suspect, which reminds me. Did you send the photos you took up in
the loft to Dominic yet?”

“
Fired them off as soon as
I took them.”

“
Good. We’ll call him from
the restaurant to see what he thinks about them.”

The Blue Marlin Grill that Carlos suggested
was exactly as I pictured, a quaint little structure modeled in the
Old-Gloucester style tradition. The inside décor was simple
nautical; light oak tables and chairs and booth seating with the
usual ship’s wheel, trophy fish and sea charts mounted on the
walls. And as Carlos promised when we got there, the fried clams
and calamari were out of this world.

Half-way through lunch I put my iced tea
down, held my finger up to Carlos and told him, “I’ll get
that.”

“
Get what?” he said, and
then my phone rang.

“
That’ll be Spinelli.” I
answered it. “Dominic?”

“
Tony, it’s…. Oh, yeah
it’s me.”

“
What’s up? Did the
kidnappers call?”

“
Not yet, but I do have a
couple of things.”

“
Okay. Shoot.”

“
First, I want to tell you
that I looked at the photos Carlos sent me, the ones he took at
Haywood’s?”

“
In the loft.
Yes.”

“
It’s not the same, the
floor I mean. The planking is staggered in Carlos’ photos. The ones
in the picture the kidnappers sent are lineal, probably taken in a
smaller room where the boards stretch wall-to-wall.”

“
I thought something
didn’t look right,” I said. “I couldn’t put my finger on it,
though. Nice work. What’s the second thing?”

“
The second
thing?”

“
You said you had a
couple?”