Mystery at Saddle Creek (10 page)

12

 

THE ORANGEVILLE HOSPITAL

Tan drifted on a sea of white clouds and cotton. Faces appeared and disappeared. He imagined things: a girl with dark eyes stared at him; a coyote dragged him away from a blazing barn; his rocking horse carried him up a mountain. He was thirsty. Very thirsty. Water. Cold water. Water burst from a balloon that was smashed with a tire iron. The balloon became a skull and the water turned to blood. Tan screamed and screamed, but he couldn't make a sound.

FOR A FULL MINUTE after the tail lights disappeared, Bird stayed hidden. She'd paid close attention. The car was light brown. It was a four-door Chrysler sedan, about ten years old, she guessed. The licence was MNTN 3672. She repeated it over and over in her head until it was committed to memory.

When she finally felt it was safe, Bird jumped up from the ground and ran back to the house.

Should she wake Paul and Hannah? The memory of Hannah sitting slouched over the kitchen table with her chin in her hands came into Bird's mind. No. Hannah and Paul needed their rest. They were getting older. Plus, they'd insist on calling the police, and Bird didn't want to wait for them and have to explain everything. That man was on his way to the hospital now. She needed to get there as fast as possible.

Very quietly, Bird tiptoed into the kitchen. She tore off some paper from a pad and wrote a note to Hannah. She explained about the beige car at their mailbox, and included the licence plate number. She put her note beside the letter to Cliff that she'd found in the mailbox. Then she put the pad and pen in her pocket, and stepped outside.

Lucky was standing at the door.

Where are you going, Bird? Where are you going?

I have to protect the wild man.

How?

I'll know when I get there. Keep an eye on Cliff, will you?

Can I come with you? With you?

I need you here, Lucky. Can you help me out?

Lucky stood proudly, puffing out his chest.
I'd be honoured.

Good boy.
She patted his head.
Now, watch Cliff 's house. If anyone shows up who makes you nervous, bark your head off and come back and wake Hannah and Paul.

At your service.

Bird watched him race bravely toward Cliff 's house, just as he said he would. Bird felt a pang of love for the awkward puppy. He would be a great dog one day soon.

Bird ran around the house to where her bike was propped against the wall. She hopped on and sped off toward the hospital, wondering if she had understood the cellphone conversation correctly. If the man really was driving to the wild man's bedside, it wouldn't be for a pleasant little visit.

Very soon, Bird's lungs began to burn and her leg muscles hurt. It was a slow uphill climb, and her body was already in a mess from the fire. Bird could hardly believe it had happened less than twenty-four hours ago—it had been an incredibly awful day. She tried to manage the pain by taking slow, deep breaths. There were almost no cars out this time of night, she noted, and few trucks.

Twenty-five long minutes later, Bird saw the hospital ahead.

She glided silently into the parking lot, taking care to stay in the shadowy areas unlit by the tall lamps. There were a couple dozen cars parked in the staff parking section, many fewer in the visitor's area. And there, across the lot, parked far away from the lighted section, was a beige sedan.

Bird rode past the car, pretending not to notice it in case anybody was inside. Empty. Licence plate MNTN 3672. She braked the bike and did a double take. The front left fender had a long, deep mark on it: a fresh scratch. This was the car that had hit Philip Butler, no question. She put her hand on the hood. Still hot. Good—he hadn't been here too long.

Bird rode up to the entrance and left her bike hidden in the bushes by the front door. She walked up to the doors and looked through the glass. There were lights on and a few people walking around—people who looked like they knew what they were doing. She'd better do the same. Expecting the door to be locked, Bird yanked hard. It opened easily, and for a second she was thrown off balance. Bird breathed deeply to collect herself. When she was ready, she strode in.

There was a friendly looking elderly woman at the reception table along the wall. Bird stood waiting until the woman looked up.

“May I help you, dear?” the lady asked with a pleasant smile.

Bird pulled out the pad of paper and pen, and wrote quickly but carefully:
Yes, thank you. A man was brought in with burns. He helped get some horses out of a barn fire. Could you please direct me 2 his room?

The woman assessed Bird carefully. “Why don't you talk, dear? Sore throat?”

Bird nodded. She wrote:
The fire hurt my throat.

“You do look like you've been in a fire! Your hair is completely singed.” The woman's expression was kind, but Bird could see that she was no fool. “Why are you here at this late hour, and not in bed?”

Bird gave her an innocent look:
This is the first chance I had. I slept all afternoon recovering.
She wondered briefly if she should take this nice lady into her confidence. Maybe she should, but the whole story might sound too far-fetched. She decided to stick with the plan. Adults rarely believe you anyway.

“There's a gentleman with him now. When he comes down you can go on up. What is your name, please?” The woman opened the guest book.

Bird was alarmed. He was there! It might already be too late. She quickly studied the guest book. “John Smith” was the last name entered. Beside it was written Room 213.

When did he go up?
Bird wrote.

“He's just gone up, but he said he won't be long. What is your name, please?”

Alberta Simms.
Bird wrote quickly.
I must go now. That man is not nice.

The woman's eyes narrowed as she read. “He's a
very
nice man. He brought me a box of chocolate mints.”

It was just as she'd feared — the woman did not believe her. She hadn't wanted it to come to this, but she had no choice. With a quick look around, and another deep breath, Bird dashed for the stairwell.

“Stop!” the woman yelled from behind her. “You can't go up without permission!”

Bird flew up the stairs, two at a time, hoping the woman would call security. She'd need all the help she could get when she got there. She rushed down the second floor hall, checking room numbers as she went. No matter how hard she tried, her feet would not go as fast as she wanted them to. She made a wrong turn and doubled back, feeling more and more anxious with every passing second. There — finally! Room 213.

Panting for air and sweating, Bird looked through the small glass window in the door. Yes. This was the right room. The wild man was lying perfectly still in the dim light. His body lay under a white sheet, and his head was covered in bandages.

Bird gasped. The same man who had been at the Saddle Creek mailbox stepped out of the shadows and up to the bed, his back to the door. Bird watched as he reached down and began to violently shake the wild man's shoulders. She reached for the door handle to stop him.

But before her hand even touched the metal, two security guards grabbed her arms from behind. “Okay,” said one. “You're coming with us.”

Bird was aghast. She motioned frantically with her head and eyes, urging them to look in the window. She had to make them see!

“You're going to struggle,are you?”said the other.“There are two of us and one of you.”

Bird tried to talk. “Arghhh ...” was the only thing that came out. She kicked out hard.

“That's enough!” spat the guard. He twisted her arm and held her tighter.

Bird wiggled and fought. She couldn't explain things to them. The only thing she could do was make them see what was happening in the room. Through sheer force of will, she pulled them closer and closer to the door.

One of the guards cursed loudly as he hit his head on the doorframe. Bird cringed, waiting for the inevitable yank on her arm. It never came. Miraculously, the guard's attention was caught by a movement in the room. He released Bird's arm and stared in the window.

“Let her go,” he commanded. “We have a situation.”

As quickly as she'd been grabbed, Bird was dropped like a hot potato. She found herself alone on the corridor floor. Bird heard the intruder exclaim as he was pulled away from the bed. “Hey! What are you doing?”

“More to the point, what are
you
doing?” responded a guard.

“I'm visiting a friend, pal.”

“You're roughing up a patient,
pal
. And you're coming with us.”

Bird wiggled across the floor and peered into the room. She watched as one of the guards pressed the alarm button to call for the nurse. That was good — the wild man needed attention. He was still motionless, but now his arms and legs were in awkward positions.

Before the guards could remember that Bird was there, she slipped behind the open door next to the wild man's room, and hid. Through the hinges she watched the three men as they marched down the hall — the unhappy intruder in the middle with a stern guard at both sides. When they turned the corner, she made her move. She had to get back to the stairwell undetected. She had to get out.

Nurses rushed past her on their way to the wild man's room.

Bird crept along, keeping the sound of the guards' footfalls within earshot. If they came back for her, Bird planned to tell them she'd fainted. But with all the commotion nobody seemed to notice her. She heard the elevator doors open and close. The guards and the man disappeared.

She reached the stairwell and sank to the floor. With her head pounding and her arms sore from the struggle, Bird lay on the floor and caught her breath. After a few minutes, she felt well enough to walk downstairs. She had to get out of the hospital pronto, before anybody remembered about her.

Silently, barely allowing herself to breathe, Bird tiptoed down the stairs. At the bottom, she looked around the lobby for the guards and the lady in reception. All clear. She braced herself. Very casually, she walked out the front door, and once out of sight, she raced to her bike.

But what was this? There was a dark shape lurking in the shadows. Bird's heart stopped. She became motionless.

Bird girl. Do not fear. It's me.

Bird slumped with relief.
Cody! How did you get here?

I followed you. You might have need of me.

Oh, Cody. You are the best.
Bird's heart was full of love for her loyal friend. She suddenly felt a whole lot less lonely as they began their trip back to Saddle Creek.

The road sloped downhill all the way. With the night air in her lungs, Bird felt better and better with every passing kilometer. She began to smile, then grin, then laugh aloud, in a raspy, squeaky, honking kind of way. Her escape had been exhilarating! Not only had she possibly saved the wild man's life again, but the hospital guards were holding the man who was planting threatening notes and who'd carried out the hit and run on Philip Butler. With any luck, the case would soon be solved!

Cody raced along beside her as she rode. Bird pedalled only as fast as he could run. Finally, they turned up the country road that led to Saddle Creek Farm. Her leg muscles were searing and her energy was spent. It was five-thirty in the morning, and Bird was ready for bed.

Lucky ran up to her as she parked her bike.
Bird! Bird! You're back!

Did anything happen while I was gone?

Not a thing, Bird. Not a thing.

Good work.

Thank you! Thank you!

Good boy, Lucky.
Bird rubbed his head and playfully grabbed his snout. Lucky wagged his tail and shook with glee.

Quietly, Bird and Lucky entered the kitchen. Making not a sound, Bird closed the door behind them.

“Bird.” A voice startled both dog and girl. “I saw the note.” Hannah turned on the lights. She looked terrible. At a glance Bird could see that she was in a foul mood. “I've been worried sick.”

Bird pulled out the pen and paper.
A man left that in the mailbox & said on his cell he was going 2 the O'ville hosp. I went 2 save the wild man & it's good I did cause the man tried 2 hurt him but the guards stopped him & I came home. His car is beige & has a big scratch.

Hannah's face changed as she read Bird's scrawled message. “You went all the way to Orangeville.” It was more a statement than a question.

Bird nodded.
I'm very, very tired, she wrote. Can I go 2 bed now?

Hannah gave her a gentle hug. “Yes. I'll call and leave a message for the police. You're a brave girl, Bird. It wasn't very smart, though. I've been so worried! You could've been hurt in so many ways I don't even want to think about.”

Tell her what I did!
demanded Lucky.

Bird gave him a dismal look, then relented. Like all dogs of his age and type, he needed lots of approval. She reached over and scribbled.
Lucky was on patrol while I was gone. Pat him & make a fuss.

Hannah looked at her quizzically, then laughed. “I'll never understand you and animals.” She knelt down and scratched Lucky's neck. “Good boy! You did a good job, Lucky!”

Lucky was in heaven. He rolled over and let Hannah rub his tummy.

Somberly she said, “Never do that again. It should have been done by the police.”

Bird wrote,
I couldn't wait.

Hannah didn't buy it. “You should have wakened me, Bird. I would have helped.” She gave Bird another hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Now get to bed.”

Bird dragged herself up the stairs, one at a time, followed by Lucky. She fell into her bed without washing her face or brushing her teeth, and was deeply asleep in an instant.