

GOOD ENOUGH

A SHAY JAMES MYSTERY

BY BRENDA MCCREIGHT

Published by Brenda McCreight at Smashwords

Copyright @2010 Brenda McCreight

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. For information address Brenda McCreight at 229 Milton Street, Nanaimo BC Canada V9R 2K5.

Good Enough

A Shay James Mystery

Chapter One

Happy Birthday

Some kids have parents who are doctors or farmers. Other kids' parents are mill workers or teachers. Shay James' parents were drug dealers. As Shay learned very early in life, parents who use and sell illegal drugs don't have a lot of time or energy for taking care of their children. In fact, they don't have much time for anything but themselves. Still, Shay often reminded herself, they weren't total wipe outs as parents; they had taught her some useful things. For example, they taught Shay how to wait. As a little kid, Shay learned to wait for her parents to feed her, or put her to bed, or to return to the dingy motel rooms they hid out in each time they ran from overdue bills or drug deals gone bad. When she was older, and the social workers took her away from her mom and dad and put her into foster care, Shay learned to wait for her parents on their scheduled visits and to wait for their occasional telephone call or email. Yesterday, though, she finally gave up waiting when they still hadn't called to wish her "Happy Fourteenth Birthday" by the time she had to go to bed.

Shay shook her head hard, as if the motion could fling out the sadness that lived like a creepy little spider in the darkest corner of her mind. She reached her arm out from under the thick layers of warm blankets and squashed the alarm button before it woke her younger roommate, Larissa, who was still sound asleep on the upper bunk. Shay watched above her while Larissa's mattress sagged and bounced with each turn and roll of the girl, the movements of the old, thin mattress making it look as if it had a life of its own. Shay could see Larissa's outline as the girl once again rolled over, mumbled a few words in her sleep, and then snorted loudly. Larissa's endless wiggling and her noises on the top bunk made Shay think of a giant freckle-faced, red-haired mouse, endlessly burrowing deeper and deeper into its nest.

The thought brought out a giggle in Shay that she quickly suppressed. She didn't want Larissa to wake up just yet because this morning she yearned for just a few minutes to lie quietly and be alone with her thoughts without having to endure Larissa's constant chatter. Shay liked the privacy of the early morning when her foster father left for the early shift at the shingle mill, and her foster mom made clanging noises in the kitchen downstairs as she bustled around cooking a big breakfast for the two foster girls. Shay felt comforted knowing that in this house there was always enough food and warmth.

Shay stretched her arms out from under the covers and then quickly retreated back inside the cosiness of the worn flannel sheets. She thought about the birthday party her foster parents had thrown for her yesterday. It had been okay. Not great, but okay. That was another thing Shay's parents taught her – nothing was ever going to be really good for her – the best she should hope for was okay. 'Okay' at her birthday meant the foster parents gave her a cool cake with fourteen candles that all played a tinny-sounding "Happy Birthday" song when she flicked the little switch on their side. Shay had only been with these foster parents, Dave and Jolene Halliwell, for four months, but they were nice people even if they were kind of old. They had even given her a pair of pretty winter gloves and twenty dollars toward a bridle for her favourite horse.

The foster parents had invited Shay's new social worker, Sue Osner, to the party and Sue had driven all the way out from her office in Nelson with a birthday present. It was a DVD of a movie that Shay had never heard of, but she knew that social workers couldn't give anything too important or special in case Shay, or any kid, got the idea that the social worker actually liked her.

"I'm sorry your parents haven't called yet, Shay," the young woman had said as she seated herself in the overstuffed chair beside the crackling wood stove that helped to heat the main floor of the renovated farm house. "I'm sure you'll hear from them before the end of today," Sue smiled in an encouraging way as if she actually believed that her positive thoughts could make Shay's parents sober up long enough to remember what day it was, or even remember that they still had a daughter.

Jolene put the tray down on the coffee table and stepped up beside Shay, putting her arm protectively around Shay's shoulders. Shay didn't like being touched by anyone, but she knew Jolene was just trying to be nice so she tried to be polite and accept Jolene's attempt to comfort her. Still, before she could control herself, Shay felt her body flinch, as if her bones and muscles had a mind of their own. Sensitive to Shay's discomfort, Jolene had gently pulled away and sat down to begin serving the coffee.

"How much have you got saved for the bridle, now?" the foster mother asked pleasantly, trying to change the subject.

"I've got fifty dollars with this money you gave me," Shay answered, relieved at the change in conversation topic. "I'll have a really good bridle by summer at this rate."

Owning a bridle was a status symbol among the regular riders at Fletcher's stables, because it separated them from the tourists and the occasional riders. Ownership of a bridle allowed the regulars the unspoken privilege of claiming a horse as their own, and always having first choice to ride it. To Shay, having her own bridle was even more significant than simply possessing a status symbol; it was a sign that she belonged to something--and for Shay James, belonging was the most desired and the most elusive feeling in the world.

"Doesn't that man at that horse barn provide the bridles and the rest of the riding equipment for you?" the social worker asked.

"Yes, he does," Shay replied. "Mr. Fletcher has everything there for the riders, but once he starts letting us ride for free, we have to use the older stuff. Anyway, I want my own bridle and since it's my money I don't see what the problem is."

"Well," Sue said. "It seems like you're doing a lot of work for nothing over some horseback-riding, and you can't even do much of that now that it's winter," she paused. "I should look into the situation at this stable." Sue pulled her Blackberry from her purse and, jabbing at the plastic face of the electronic notepad, made a note to follow up. The social worker's chewed fingernails hit each letter so hard that Shay began to think the small screen would break.

Rolling her eyes at the ceiling, Shay internally bristled at how little the social worker understood her own love of the horses, and how important it made her feel to be responsible for such beautiful animals. Brushing the horses' coats for hours till they shone in the winter sun, and breathing in the rich smell of horse hide and hay that filled the barn were some of the best moments of Shay's life. How could she begin to explain to this social worker how it felt to sit on the horse's back, and how could she possibly describe the strength and wild feeling of confidence that rose within her as her horse cantered across an open field, or trotted along the mountain paths?

Shay knew the young woman couldn't be expected to know about the horses, or even much about her client. She had only been assigned to Shay after the transfer to the Halliwells' foster home, and Sue's bi-monthly visits were often cancelled when emergency situations called the overworked social worker elsewhere. Still, Shay was annoyed at the worker's nosey questions and she glared at Sue, who seemed oblivious to Shay's mood as her fingers continued to work quickly over the small Blackberry keyboard. The woman clearly didn't understand that Mr. Fletcher was easily irritated, and Shay didn't want to give him any reason, such as a curious social worker, to stop her riding privileges.

"You really have to stay out of this," Shay finally said, sharply, unable to think of any better way to bring an end to the discussion. "I like working there and it's none of your business what I do with my free time, as long as it's legal. Besides, Mr. Fletcher is a good guy. He doesn't cheat and he doesn't lie to anybody." Everyone knew where they stood with Mr. Fletcher; he was gruff, but he had no secret plans or agendas, and he never talked about anyone behind their backs. Mr. Fletcher treated Shay far better than most of the other grownups in her life had; he never promised anything and nothing ever changed, at least as long as no one bugged him.

Sue looked up from her Blackberry, obviously surprised by Shay's strong tone.

"Can I get you some more coffee?" Jolene asked diplomatically.

Sue nodded and opened her mouth to speak, but again Jolene interrupted.

"Old man Fletcher has been around as long as I have. We knew each other as kids. He was crabby and cheap then, and he's crabby and cheap now, but he's never hurt anyone that I know of and kids have been riding at his place for over forty years. For some reason they all seem the like him well enough. I think maybe he's better with the kids and the horses than he is with everyone else."

Sue frowned again. "It doesn't seem like this horse riding thing would make the man enough of an income, especially when he lets so many kids ride for free," she said suspiciously. Shay glared at her again, but neither Sue nor Jolene seemed to notice.

Jolene reached for the coffee creamer and poured a small amount into her cup. "The horses have never been about the money for him. His great grandfather was one of the original settlers in the area and his father was a very successful businessman, so old man Fletcher inherited a couple of the larger buildings in downtown Nelson and a good stock of properties all over the Kootenays," she said. "Last I heard he still owns some of the big heritage buildings on Baker Street and a couple of apartment buildings, too, so he never had to actually earn a living. Heaven knows that man has always lived a frugal life. Material goods don't mean anything more to him than people do as far as I could ever tell. I think the horses give him something to take up his time and a place to go every day that doesn't demand anything of him. He keeps the place going with the help of kids like Shay, who do honest labour in exchange for the privilege of riding for free. Shay has taken a real liking to the horses. It's a good way for her to spend her time, as far as I'm concerned. I don't think we should be interfering in something that makes her happy and doesn't hurt her."

Sue looked thoughtful for a moment and then nodded her head in agreement as she slid the Blackberry into the large purse that doubled as her briefcase. "Okay, but I expect you to keep an eye on this riding place and especially on that old man," she said to Jolene. "I should run a background check on him and make sure he doesn't have any kind of history with young girls. Do you know if he's had a criminal record check? I don't want our foster children exploited in any way."

"Do what you have to, but I bet you aren't going to find anything to worry about on Fletcher. He's no danger to any of these kids," Jolene said patiently. "More cake?" she asked, smiling as she looked first at Shay and then back to Sue.

Shay gave Jolene a grateful smile.

Yes, yesterday had definitely been a good enough birthday. Now, as Shay stretched slowly under the bed covers on the second day of her fourteenth year, she felt the warmth of the waking household replacing the night chill of the harsh Kootenay winter. Shay had lived all her life in the small towns that dotted the rocky shores of Kootenay Lake, but she had never learned to like the long, cold winters or the shortened days that came early in the fall and lasted until late spring.

Shay pushed back her heavy quilts and shivered as the chilly air wrapped around her body. Larissa's rumbling noises were getting louder and she was moving about more on the bunk above; the first signs that she was about to wake up. Time's up, Shay thought, and she jumped out of bed and hopped on her bare feet across the cold linoleum floor so that she could be first in the large bathroom across the hall.

Reaching for her tooth brush Shay looked in the bathroom mirror above the sink and tried a couple of different smiles to use if someone said hi to her in the halls at school. She didn't want to grin like an over eager goofball just because someone was nice to her, but at the same time she didn't want to look too casual, as if she didn't care at all. Everything in high school was a balance between looking like she cared and not looking like she was trying too hard. Shay knew she wasn't ever going to be one of the popular teens-- that just didn't happen to foster kids--but she knew she had already made a friend and Shay was pretty convinced that getting her smile right was part of finding acceptance by even more kids.

She stopped practicing her smile and stared hard at her reflection in the small bathroom mirror. Typical, Shay thought, like everything else in my life, my face is 'okay' to look at, but not great. Her eyes were dark brown. One of the less creepy friends of her father's had once told her that her eye color matched a fresh chestnut just taken from its prickly green shell. Shay thought about that awhile and finally decided she liked that description, even if it was a little weird. She had started wearing make up last year, but Jolene was gently nagging her about how much eyeliner she was allowed to use. At first, Shay had fought her about this, but after a while she backed off and used less make-up. Shay was beginning to like her life at the Halliwell's and she didn't want to get moved to a new foster home for arguing over something as silly as eyeliner.

It was hard for Shay to admit that she actually liked much about herself, but she did manage to admire her thick, wavy, almost black hair that fell softly to the middle of her back. Most days she just let it hang loose, and she brushed it often so that everyone would see it shine and know that it was clean.

Shay hadn't inherited much from her parents, except for her mom's hair and her dad's eyes. Her parents didn't look like her now but she had seen some pictures of them when they were young, and she had been surprised at how beautiful they once were. When Shay was younger, she would look at her parent's chalky, hardened faces after they'd had a particularly wild weekend, and wonder if the drugs could make them turn to stone. She knew that was a silly thought, yet it had haunted her. Shay shivered and shook her head again. Her looks were the only thing she planned to inherit from her parents.

"Hey," Larissa called from the other side of the door. "Are you going to be in there all morning?"

The day began.

Chapter Two

Mystery in the Barn

"Hey there, Shay," Grace Norton called out as she walked to Shay from her own locker near the end of the hallway. "Are you ready to get on the bus? It's going to leave pretty soon."

"Yup, I'm almost done here," Shay said, without looking up from her combination lock. If she didn't give the lock her full attention it had a tendency to stick on the second number. The lock clicked on this third try and easily fell open. Shay quickly shoved the books she needed for her homework assignments into the over-burdened old backpack. She was glad that she didn't have much homework tonight: only a few study questions for the Friday math quiz, and some initial reading for a socials project that was due later in the month. Shay knew she could wait till after supper to do the math homework and she'd still have lots of time later in the week for the socials project. There was nothing to interfere with riding at old man Fletcher's on the weekend.

Grace pulled a long pink and green striped, hand-knitted scarf out of her backpack and wrapped it around her neck. "It's really frosty out there today," she said. "My dad says he hasn't seen a winter this cold since he was a kid. He's says its global warming screwing up the weather but my mom's pretty sure it's the lack of sunspots. They can go on and on about that all day. What a boring thing to argue about, eh," Grace said, grinning.

Shay envied the security of Grace's life and the common-place problems that intruded on her friend's world. Three generations of Grace's family had lived in Proctor, a small community of just over a thousand people, situated a half hour drive up the lake from the larger town of Nelson. Grace's father owned the local shingle mill where Shay's foster father worked, and it kept the Norton family rooted to the area. Grace had absorbed lots of information about the community from her parents and grandparents, so she was a fountain of information about local families, school and teachers, and even the local weather, and she was always eager to share her knowledge.

Unlike some of the other high school girls who seemed to feed off of other people's private information, Grace wasn't a nasty gossip. She was a cheerful girl with a smile for everyone she met whether they were the really popular kids, or the geeks and nerds, and everyone liked her in return. Larissa had introduced Shay and Grace the first morning Shay got on the school bus. There weren't a lot of teens in Proctor and many were from families whose parents had moved to the small town to live off the land in an alternate lifestyle. These kids were well-known for wildness, and for being beyond what little control their laid-back parents tried to exert. Other people had moved to Proctor in the hope that they could keep their children distant from the drugs and other social problems prevalent in the larger communities. Their teens were home-schooled and not allowed to socialize with the foster kids, as parents feared that foster kids would be bad influences.

When Shay realized that Grace wasn't interested in drugs or partying, and she that wasn't dating anybody, Shay thought it was safe enough to start talking in more than the one or two sentences she had been allowing herself to speak. The two girls soon found they had much in common, and were moving toward BFF status. Shay had never had a best friend before, and she liked the good feeling it gave her to know that someone actually wanted to hang out with her. Even better, Grace's parents didn't seem to mind that Shay was a foster kid. She had met them several times and they treated her as if she had a regular family. They were also polite enough to not ask about Shay about her parents, even though Shay knew they must be curious. Usually people wanted to know why she couldn't live with her mom and dad and most people just asked her whatever they wanted to know, as if Shay's life was supposed to be some kind of an open book for everyone to read.

"Do you want to come over to my house today?" Grace asked. She lived with her family in a large old house on twenty acres of land that they used to grow all of their own vegetables, and to raise chickens and a couple of goats. Grace's grandfather had built the house, and Grace's mother was forever making her father remodel one room after another. The best part of the situation was that Grace's house was only a ten minute walk from the Halliwell's, so the girls were able to hang out after school and on weekends--and hanging out with a friend was something Shay had never done before. She had dreamed of having someone to chill with after school and to go window shopping and to watch movies with on weekends, and finally, it was really happening.

"We can study for that French test next week. I'm never going to pass. I think I might dye my hair too. I'm going to the corner store to pick some dye up after school. Maybe I'll do it kind of dark like yours."

Shay looked at Grace's shoulder-length brown hair that was several shades lighter than her own, but not quite light enough to be blonde. It had a natural curl to it that twisted softly around Grace's face, and framed her hazel eyes and fair, lightly freckled skin.

"You're mother isn't going to let you dye your hair darker and you know that you never get less than an A in any subject," Shay said, smiling at her friend. Grace was a top student who always made the honour roll. She was naturally smart, and yet she studied hard to ensure her good grades. Grace had taught Shay how to study as well, which had resulted in a big improvement in her own marks on the last report card. No one had ever bothered to help Shay set up a structured plan for homework and studying before. She was embarrassed when she realized how easy it was to learn to study, and that the kids living with their own families already knew all about doing homework every night. It was yet another missing piece of everyday life and knowledge that made Shay feel like she lived her own life on the outside, separated from normal people by an invisible wall that she couldn't break through, no matter how much she wanted to.

"I can't come over today," Shay replied. "I have to get to Mr. Fletcher's barn. He was supposed to bring out a supply of oats this morning and I said I'd organize the feed barrels for him. It gets dark too early this time of year so I want to get started before the daylight goes. The Halliwells don't like it when I'm out after dark, and that means I don't have much time today."

The school bus didn't get to Proctor until four; by four-thirty in the afternoon most of the daylight was gone as the winter sun backed down quickly behind the high mountains that surrounded the community. Shay would have to hurry with her chores at the barn or she would find herself in trouble at home, and the last thing she wanted was to be grounded from the horses for staying out too late with them.

The half hour bus ride passed quickly as Shay, Grace, and Larissa chatted about school and movies.

"I want to rent some Johnny Depp movies this weekend," said Larissa. "I just love him, even though he is kind of old...do you think he's too old for me?" she asked between bites of the after school snack that Jolene always added to Larissa's back pack to tide the girl over till she got home from school.

"Yes, he's too old for you. And he's too rich for you and too famous for you and too busy for you and too far away for you to ever actually meet him," Shay replied with a friendly laugh.

"I didn't mean was he too old for me in real life, I mean in ...well, you know, is he too old for me to get all droollie about," Larissa said shyly.

Shay and Grace burst into laughter. Larissa stared at them and then started to laugh herself.

"You have a real way with words, you know," Shay giggled.

"Well, I think it's a great word," Grace said, "let's tell each other who our favourite droollie guys are, no secrets. You have to tell even if it's someone embarrassing, like," she hesitated, "like the Prime Minister."

Shay let out a whoop of laughter and for the rest of the ride the girls shared their secret crushes and laughed some more. Even as she joined in the fun, a part of Shay's mind was aware that she was having fun, plain normal fun, just like any other girl. She was so thankful that it was happening, and still so afraid that something bad would happen to make it end.

The school bus rolled slowly onto the small ferry that took them from the main side of the lake to the landing dock on the Proctor side. As usual, most of the kids stayed on the bus, not wanting to venture out into the chilly air. The ride was only five minutes long and in the better weather everyone got out of their vehicles to chat or just to look into the dark green, mesmerizing depths of the water below, but in the winter, people stayed closed in their vehicles, avoiding the brisk wind that blew its way down the lake.

"I'm getting out here today," Shay said to Grace. "I've to get to the horses as fast as I can."

"Okay, call me later," Grace said.

Shay said good bye to Grace and Larissa as soon as the bus driver turned off the ignition. She didn't care about the cold, she had her gloves and scarf and she wanted to be outside and ready to run off the ferry as soon as it docked. She knew she didn't have any time to waste before the sun started to fade. As she'd agreed with the foster parents, Shay would make the ten minute walk from the ferry to Fletcher's barn where she would do the chores till Dave picked her up on his way home from the mill. While the ferry docked she turned back to the bus and waved good bye again to Grace and Larissa and then walked off, walking carefully to avoid slipping on the thin frost that covered the gravel on the side of the road. It was almost four o'clock and the afternoon blue of the sky was already turning into a slate grey.

Shay left the main road and turned onto the path that meandered through the stretch of ash and poplar trees lining the upper shore of the beach, taking her directly to the barn. She walked heavily in her knee high winter boots, sinking slightly with each step as the top layers of frozen snow crackled and gave way beneath her.

Shay looked up at the outline of the large old barn against the darkening sky, and turned from the beach where she walked through the tree line to cross the big open field that surrounded the barn. The structure looked eerie and alone today with the trees that surrounded it bare and quiet, and the crops in the outer fields covered with the frozen snow. Shay felt a shiver run through her. She shook herself as she neared the barn and then she stopped to take a moment to breathe in the scent of the horses. The rich smell of the animals overcame her shivers and filled her with a sense of joy mixed with energy. Shay heard a snort and noticed that some of the larger horses were in the open field, nibbling at the sharp bits of evergreen shrubs that poked up through the snow and were scattered around the untended farm land. Most of the horses were already in the warmer cover of the barn, not needing a human to tell them it was cold out side. Shay rounded the corner of the barn and stopped at the sight of Mr. Fletcher's old truck.

"That's weird," Shay said to herself. It wasn't like Mr. Fletcher to be out at the farm at this time of the day, especially in the winter. He didn't like the cold and the mostly bare tires of his truck never did well on the ice covered roads.

Shay walked over to the truck and saw that the oat supply was still in the back; nothing had been unloaded. She looked around, expecting to see Mr. Fletcher appear at any moment.

"Mr. Fletcher?" she called. The only response came from the soft whinnying of the mares and the shooshing noise of two of the horses in the field as they moved in a purposeful gait toward her, hoping that she would provide something tastier to nibble on than frozen evergreens. Ignoring the horses, Shay walked toward the closed double doors of the barn then hesitated as a shiver of fear ran up her spine. Why would Mr. Fletcher be in the barn with the doors closed?

Shay pulled open the large barn door and pushed it fully back against the outside barn wall to allow in as much light as possible before she stepped into the dark space. She peered into the dusty gloom. She heard the familiar noises that the horses made when they sensed a person approaching, but there was no sign of anyone else in the barn.

"Mr. Fletcher, are you in here?" she called, and then waited for some kind of answer. There wasn't a sound. She took another tentative step further into the barn and tried again.

"Mr. Fletcher!" Shay called out louder this time, hoping her voice would carry over the snorting of the horses. The barn was dark a few feet beyond the door. Shay reached up to the lights, flipping the switch several times until she finally accepted that the lights weren't going to go on. She felt around for the large emergency flashlight that always hung on the inside of the barn wall but it wasn't there. Shay didn't know what to do, but she had no intention of stepping another foot inside the large building. It was dark and cold and the restless movement of the horses raised goose bumps on her arms under her thick sweater and coat. Shay was backing slowly toward the doors when she heard a soft moan. Shay turned toward the sound and almost jumped when she heard the voice again, louder this time, and sounding almost angry.

"Help me."

It was Mr. Fletcher's voice.

"Mr. Fletcher?" she replied. "Where are you?"

"Here at the back. Here. Help me!" he called in a high pitched voice. The old man sounded fearful and demanding at the same time.

Shay felt a shiver of fear run up her back but she didn't let that slow her down as moved as quickly as she could away from the remaining light in the doorway behind her, and stepped into the cavernous darkness of the barn. She crossed the barn floor mainly by memory because she couldn't see more than a couple of feet in front of her. Mr. Fletcher moaned again, and Shay turned in the direction of the sound. Squinting in the dark, Shay could barely make out the form of a person lying on the hay-strewn floor.

Suddenly, she was flooded with the memory of finding her father lying unconscious on the dirty, ripped linoleum of their run-down rental house. Drug-overdosed and barely alive, his heavy, ragged breathing sent out a foul smell that filled the room. Disoriented by the darkness, Shay froze and became lost within her thoughts. A loud whinnying from the horse in the stall beside her brought her mind back to the barn.

Shay found the ability to move again, and dropped to her knees beside the groaning man.

"Mr. Fletcher, what happened?" Shay asked,

"I've been hurt, that's what happened" he grumbled. "Any fool can see that!" Old man Fletcher reached out with his gnarled, arthritic fingers to grab her arm. "Help me up." His voice was shaky and his hand, streaked with dried blood, trembled as he wrapped his cold, fingers around her arm. Shay could just make out a dark blood stain that ran over his forehead and along his shoulder. She tried to steady the reed-thin, old man as he shifted his weight against her in an attempt to stand, but he was still too heavy for the young teen to support.

"I can't get you to your feet, Mr. Fletcher, but I'll get a blanket to warm you up and then we can use your cell to call for help," she said.

"Don't you think I already tried that a hundred times? My cell phone isn't working, damned thing. You can't get a signal in here most of the time anyways," he said.

"That's okay, I can go and get you help," Shay said.

"Don't leave me girl. I've been lying here for hours. I don't want to die here," his voice was shaky with fear.

"Dave Halliwell will be here in an hour," Shay said. "He'll be able to help you."

"I'll be dead in an hour, you silly young fool. I need help now!" Mr. Fletcher was almost crying.

"It's okay Mr. Fletcher," she said quickly, amazed at the weakness in this man who had always been so strong and gruff. "I'll cover you with some horse blankets. Do you have the flashlight? I can use it to find my way to the blankets."

Old man Fletcher shifted his body again and managed to pull himself back against a hay bundle. "Get the one from the wall," he directed, his words slurring from pain and cold.

"It isn't there, I already looked for it when I came in the barn" she said. "Never mind. I can find my way; it doesn't seem as dark anymore." Shay's eyes were adjusting to the blackness and she could see well enough now to feel her way around the familiar spaces of the barn.

Shay grabbed several of the thick quilted horse blankets that had been flung over the stall railings and she covered Fletcher, who moaned aloud each time he moved or shifted his head. Shay wrapped part of the blanket loosely around his balding head, trying to avoid irritating the injury but knowing that in this cold, Mr. Fletcher was vulnerable to hypothermia. Hypothermia could quickly slow down his ability to move and to think clearly, and could even kill him if he was cold enough.

"What happened, Mr. Fletcher?" Shay asked as she tucked the largest blanket around his legs. "Did one of the horses kick you?" It wasn't like the horses to kick out at anyone, but she couldn't think of anything else that could have happened.

"I don't know girl. I don't know," he said impatiently, his voice still whiny and high pitched from pain and fear. "I can't recall what happened. I walked into the barn this morning and I guess something hit me. I think I was unconscious for a while because the next thing I knew it was dark and I was back here. I heard you calling. I must have conked out a few times today." His voice slipped to little more than a whisper and Shay realized that he might already be suffering from exposure, as well as from the wound on his head.

"I've got to get help. I won't be long Mr. Fletcher. I promise," she said earnestly. Shay knew that he was right; Mr. Fletcher could very well be dead by the time Dave was scheduled to arrive.

Fletcher muttered something and then moaned again as his head fell forward; his angular chin resting on his chest. Shay didn't know how badly he was hurt but she knew that the winter cold could kill him even if the injury didn't. The day light was gone now and it would be a long, slow walk to the nearest neighbours, or up the road to the Halliwell's house. There was no time to trudge through the snow in the dark; Shay would have to take one of the horses. She turned to the right and felt her way along the wall to the bridles that hung from the wall hooks. When her gloved hand touched the first bridle she pulled it down. I'm going for one of the horses still in the field where I'll at least have the light of the rising winter moon to see by while I fasten the bridle. Shay was relieved to see that Freckles was the closest to her and the fence.

Shay hadn't ridden this horse before because Freckles was always saved for the new riders who needed a safe, reliable horse. Freckles was an older mare, square-backed and sure footed. The horse would never win any races but she was calm and predictable and could be depended on to find her way over the snow covered paths. Shay reached deep into the bottom of the oat bin and scooped out a handful to give to the horse. Most of it fell to the ground but enough stuck to her gloves to interest the mare. She approached Freckles quietly while holding the bridle behind her back with one hand and reaching out with the other to let the horse smell the oats.

The big animal snorted as Shay neared and lifted her head to sniff the odour of the fresh oats in the air. Freckles stepped closer and Shay let her nuzzle her gloved hand as she took the few oats. She moved slowly while bringing the bridle to the front and then swung the straps around the mare's neck. Freckles stood compliantly while Shay got a secure hold of her mane and worked the bit between the horse's teeth. This is a good start, Shay thought. Maybe she could do it after all.

She secured the bit and pulled the bridle back over Freckle's ears. "It's okay girl," Shay soothed. "Just a short ride in the dark. We can do it. I can ride you," she chanted softly, trying to calm herself along with the horse. She moved to Freckles' side and grabbed the thick mane, swinging herself up onto the solid back. There was no time for a saddle, but the regulars often road bareback in the summer and Shay had tried it a few times in the early fall when the tourists were gone. "Let's go, Freckles," she urged, digging her heels into the horse's flanks, and together they ambled along in the rising moonlight.

Freckles picked her way through the snow along the tire tracks set by Mr. Fletcher's truck. The ground was hard and the night freeze was taking hold, making it easier for the horse's hooves to hold firm. Shay urged the horse to a trot and soon they were off the farm property and onto the side road that gave access to the summer beach houses dotting the shore. Once they reached the first cottage the path would be a challenge for Freckles; the summer roads would be covered with deep snow and a few branches blown down by the winter winds. Shay knew that no one would be in the cottages, but she hoped that if Freckles could pick a path through the trees they would be able to get to the greenhouses at the herb farm a quarter of a mile farther on. It was still working hours for most people and Shay prayed silently that there would be someone at the farm who could help her. She knew that if she had to change her route and backtrack, it might be too late for Mr. Fletcher by the time help got back to the barn.

Ten minutes later, Shay saw the lights of the greenhouse. Freckles, sensing a destination, forged ahead through the snow that rose almost half way up the legs of the sturdy horse. They reached the road in front of the greenhouse and Shay started calling out as she dismounted.

"Hello! Hello! Is anyone here? I need help!" she called, running to the tightly winterized green house and pulling at the door.

"What is it?" a man's voice called from inside the building.

Shay yanked at the door, pulled it open and suddenly saw a tall figure framed in the doorway like a silhouette. Shay raised her arm above her eyes to shut out part of the back light and recognized Frank Nedsmith, the owner of the herb farm. For a moment, they stood staring at each other as Shay caught her breath. "I need help. Mr. Fletcher's hurt. He's been lying in the barn unconscious all day."

Mr. Nedsmith looked at her curiously, almost as if she was an alien. "You're one of those foster kids that the Halliwells take in, aren't you?" the man asked.

His words bit at Shay as harshly as the winter wind. Yet, who was she to argue? She was indeed a foster kid from the Halliwell's.

"Yes I am. Please, I need to get help for Mr. Fletcher. He's been hurt," she repeated. "He's been lying alone in the barn all day, he's too cold and I can't even help him to stand up."

"Ray Fletcher's hurt?" he said. "Okay. I'll get the wife to call 911 and I'll go over to the barn myself and see what I can do. I've got a first aid kit that should be some use while we figure out if we need to get him to a hospital." Whatever else could be said about Frank Nedsmith he obviously wasn't one to dawdle. "Get in my truck and you can ride back there with me."

"I can't. I rode a horse to get here, but I'll meet you back at the barn in a few minutes," Shay said and turned to leave.

"You rode a horse over here in the dark?" Mr. Nedsmith paused to ask. "All by yourself?" He sounded surprised. "Look kid, just leave the horse here, I'll get it back to Fletcher's later. You can't go off in the dark again on your own-that's just asking for an accident."

"Of course I rode the horse over. What else could I do?" Shay replied indignantly. "And I'm not leaving her here. I'll meet you back at the barn." Before Nedsmith could say anything more, Shay turned and trudged back to Freckles, and swinging herself up on the horse's back, she rode off into the darkened night.

It was over two hours later that the R.C.M.P showed up at the foster home with an emergency social worker in tow so they could interview Shay. They had asked her a few questions at the scene but after the ambulance left to take Mr. Fletcher to the hospital in Nelson, Dave had insisted on taking her home.

"Do you understand that we may be investigating a criminal assault?" Constable Barnes asked as he seated himself on the comfortable couch in the Halliwell's warm family room. The Constable was a large man, and his winter uniform was stiff and formal, his brown knee high boots were shiny despite having been worn in the snow.

"Yes, I know that," Shay was sitting on a stiff backed chair that helped her keep her exhausted body upright She was sure that if she relaxed for even a moment she would begin to cry. "The first officer who showed up at the barn told me that it wasn't an accident and that Mr. Fletcher had been attacked. Dave and Mr. Nedsmith said the same thing," Shay replied. She was leery of the police. As much as she wanted to help Mr. Fletcher, she had learned early in her childhood that saying too much to the police meant her parents would be in jail and she would be in another foster home. Oh well, she thought, I don't know where my parents are and I'm already in a foster home. Not a whole lot to lose. She took a deep breath, determined to give as much information as possible to help Mr. Fletcher.

The Constable nodded. "That's right. Whatever hit the old guy was something heavy. Most likely it was metal and it was swung with enough force to kill him. The attackers left him in bad shape and if you hadn't shown up he would have died during the night from exposure to the cold. We're dealing with a violent attacker, someone who didn't care if he killed the old guy, and probably expected Mr. Fletcher to die from this assault."

The colour drained out the face of the emergency social worker. "Are you saying that there's some criminal running around Proctor? Are our foster children in danger?" he asked. Shay saw Jolene and the officer exchange a quick and silent look but whether the look reflected frustration or annoyance, she couldn't tell.

"No, the children aren't likely to be in any danger. This wasn't some random crime," the Constable replied. "This is an isolated farm we're talking about. The properties on either side of it are vacant summer homes so it wasn't done by anyone in the immediate area. Proctor itself is difficult enough to get to, so we can assume it's wasn't someone who was here by accident. No, we have to assume that someone went to that barn with a purpose." He took a pen and a small black notebook out of an inside pocket of his uniform jacket and turned to Shay. He flipped the notebook open and began his questioning.

"Do you know if Mr. Fletcher received any threats lately from anyone? Was he having trouble with anyone? Any of the teens who ride there giving him any trouble?" he asked.

"No," Shay said. "A lot of the parents don't seem to like him much but I've never seen or heard anything about anyone wanting to hurt him." Shay said.

"When you first arrived at the farm this afternoon did you notice anything different? Anything that was different from usual or anything that seemed to be out of place? It doesn't matter how small or unimportant it seemed at the time, it only matters if it was different." The Constable's intense expression made Shay uncomfortable. Whenever she had seen that look on the face of the police before, it meant that her parents were in trouble and she knew that everything in her life was about to change yet again. Shay swallowed hard and made herself focus on the present.

"Try closing your eyes, Shay," the social worker said gently. "Sometimes it helps if you replay a scene over in your mind without outward stimulation."

She closed her eyes and let her mind review the way the farm looked when she arrived.

"What do you see?" the social worker asked her, his voice was quiet in the hushed room.

"The daylight was almost gone. It was getting dark but the moon wasn't fully up so I couldn't see much. I saw a few of the horses in the field and I saw Mr. Fletcher's truck. I thought that was really weird because during the week he only comes out in the mornings. I didn't notice anything else. I just went to the barn and..." she paused.

"What is it?" Constable Barnes asked.

"The barn doors were shut. I had to open them."

"Those doors are never shut!" Larissa said. No one had noticed her standing in the doorway with a bowl of fudge covered vanilla ice cream in one hand and a large spoon in the other. "Mr. Fletcher leaves one half of the big barn doors open all the time so the horses can go in and out when they want. He says the wind can't get in if only one door is open so the horses are warm enough that way and safe from the outside weather."

Shay opened her eyes and nodded. "She's right."

"Isn't it odd to leave the barn doors open?" the social worker asked. "Isn't he worried about someone stealing the horses?"

"It's pretty hard to steal a horse from Proctor," Jolene explained patiently. "The animal would have to be taken onto the ferry to get it out of the community and you can't do that without someone noticing. Besides he's been doing this forever and aside from the odd bit of teen age vandalism to his machines or graffiti on the side of the barn, he's never had any kind of trouble that I've heard of."

"You must have very honest people in this community," the social worker said.

"I don't know about that, but we all mostly know each other so it's hard to steal anything as large as a horse and not get caught," Jolene replied.

"Close your eyes again, Shay," Constable Barnes said, bringing the topic back to what Shay had seen. "What happened then?"

She closed her eyes and concentrated, letting the pictures run through her head. "I could hear someone moaning so I called out again, and this time Mr. Fletcher answered. He was at the back of the barn."

"Was anything out of place?" asked Barnes.

"The lights wouldn't work and the flashlight was gone," Shay opened her eyes. She knew she would recall the rest of the scene without problem. The sight of Mr. Fletcher lying on the ground would stay in her mind forever.

"The flashlight is always there!" Larissa said. "No one is allowed to touch it. Mr. Fletcher says it's expensive and it's just for him to use in emergencies."

"Tell me about the flashlight. What brand is it?" Constable Barnes directed the question to Shay.

"I don't know," she answered. "It's bigger than most. It's kind of long and heavy. And it has a handle along one side, and a yellow stripe around the end of it. There's some black writing on it that says something about Marine or something."

"Okay, then what happened?"

"I found Mr. Fletcher at the back of the barn, and covered him with a bunch of horse blankets. Then I got on a horse and went to get help. Mr. Nedsmith was already at the barn with Mr. Fletcher by the time I got back there. I just took care of Freckles and waited for everyone else to show up."

"The officer on the scene said the victim told you that something had hit him. Did he say anything else?" the Constable asked.

"Not really, he was kind of out of it. He just said that he didn't really know what happened, and that he'd been there all day."

"That's good, Shay. Now, can we go over this again, from the time you arrived?"

They went over it two more times. Shay could hardly think straight by the time the officer and the social worker left and she was finally allowed to crawl into her warm bed. She lay quietly until she could hear the familiar puffing and grunting sounds of Larissa sleeping above. Pulling the covers around her shoulders, Shay fought to hold back her tears. Crying never got anyone anything or anywhere, as her father used to tell her when she cried from hunger or fear. Her parents were notorious for spending the food money on drugs, and were usually too stoned to protect her from their creepy friends. Somewhere along the line Shay had learned to keep her tears to herself. And tonight, as her head began to ache from the effort of keeping her tears inside, she wished that just once she hadn't learned this lesson so well.

Chapter Three

Good Enough

"Well," Dave said, laying the Saturday morning paper down beside the half eaten plateful of eggs, bacon and hash browns that had gone cold while he read the half page interview with Shay. "It looks like we have a real hero living in our house, Jolene. What do you think of that?"

Jolene beamed at Shay. "Oh, I knew this girl was something special, all right," she said, and then quickly added, " just like all our girls," as she turned her smile to Larissa. The younger girl didn't notice, however, her sole focus was on the ketchup bottle she was shaking vigorously above her plate of scrambled eggs. Jolene looked back at Shay,

"So, tell us, what was it like to be interviewed by a newspaper reporter?" Jolene asked.

Shay sighed. "Well, it's really kind of weird," she answered. Since the incident Shay had been getting more attention than she'd ever had or ever wanted. First there was the long interview with the R.C.M.P officer. Then, her regular social worker, Sue, had come out again and lectured Jolene for letting Shay ride horses in the dark. After she left, they both had a good laugh about that, although Jolene had tried her best to be respectful and had reminded Shay yet again that the social was only doing her job.

Yesterday at school some of the kids mentioned that they heard about Mr. Fletcher on the radio, but few knew about Shay's involvement. The police had kept their word to be discreet when they re-interviewed her and they let Jolene take her to the detachment after school instead of interviewing her in the Principal's office. The Constable had promised Shay that he would not embarrass her by showing up unannounced during the school day. For too many years Shay had dreaded the sight of the police arriving at her school with a social worker to remove her, once again, from her parent's custody. This time, she didn't want to have to deal with what the other kids would think if the police showed up for her at school.

Last night, the journalist from the local newspaper came to the Halliwell's home and talked with Shay. Shay couldn't recall all she had said, but the way the article was written made it sound like she had single-handedly saved Mr. Fletcher's life. Now, with the winter morning sun coming in through the large kitchen windows to brighten the room, Shay just wanted to finish breakfast and do the household chores so that she could get over to the horses. She knew it would be up to the regulars to arrange for care of the horses until Mr. Fletcher got out of the hospital. Shay was particularly anxious to get to Freckles. The sturdy old mare had done well getting through the snow to the herb farm and back on that dark, snowy evening, and Shay hadn't even had time to brush her after the ride.

"I'll go over there with you," Larissa said, still shaking the near empty ketchup bottle over her eggs as if she was performing a religious ritual before eating.

"You don't have to work there, Larissa," Jolene reminded her. "Your grandparents pay for your riding. Besides, I'm not sure either of you should go to that farm, at least not until the police know what happened and we can be sure it's safe for you to be there."

"What do you mean?" Shay asked, alarmed. "I have to go over to the barn. There isn't anyone else to take care of the horses today."

"What about the other regulars? Can't they do some of the work this week?" Jolene asked.

Shay shook her head. "Some of the regulars from Nelson went out yesterday but there's no one going out today," she explained. "The horses need water and food, and their stalls need to be mucked out every day." She had already done some planning with three of the regulars, who would help out with the horses, but none of them could show up before noon, and only four days of the week were going to be covered by kids whose parents were willing to drive them from Nelson out to Proctor.

"I'm going too, Jolene," Larissa said insistently. "I know my grandparents pay for me to ride but I love the horses and I know how to take care of them. I can help Shay."

"Thanks, Larissa," Shay said. She was surprised at the girl's eagerness to do anything other than talk or eat.

"I don't know," Dave said slowly. "I don't think your social workers would want you two hanging out all on your own at a place where someone was hurt. If we let you go, maybe I should stay with you just to be on the safe side."

Shay sighed again. She felt frustrated, and for once she didn't care if her foster parents thought she was rude. She liked Dave and she knew he meant well, but he just didn't understand that this was her territory, and she didn't want a grown-up butting in.

"You both know I go there alone all the time, and Sue Osner knows that, too," Shay protested. "I know what I'm doing with the horses, and I won't get hurt. Besides, the police said it wasn't a random crime; the Constable said that someone must have been out to get Mr. Fletcher. That means us kids are safe enough there. Anyway, it'll only be until Mr. Fletcher is able to get something organized, or until he gets out of the hospital."

"Well, it's true the police didn't think you would be in danger and it could be a while before Fletcher is up and about again. That knock on the head and the hours he spent lying in the cold barn took a toll on the old guy. I hear he's developed some heart problems from the experience." Jolene said thoughtfully. "I guess you girls can go over there alone this morning, but you come back for lunch, and you stay off the horses while you're there. There's to be no riding without a responsible adult present, do you understand? You're just to feed and water them, maybe clean a stall or two, and that's it," Jolene said. "Agreed?"

"Agreed," Shay and Larissa said in unison. Larissa giggled and Shay smiled back at her. It was beginning to look like things would work out after all.

Dave was good driver and well used to the snow and ice-covered roads, but still he drove slowly and extra carefully as he rounded the corner, bringing the barn into view. Suddenly, a flood of images rushed through Shay's mind. She recalled a blur of her father lying on a floor, which was quickly replaced by another blurred image of Mr. Fletcher with the blood oozing from the wound on his head. A shiver of dread crawled down Shay's spine and her stomach unexpectedly made a nauseous twist. Shay took a deep breath and rubbed her gloved hand across her fore head, as if she could erase the images that hid inside of her mind. The past is the past; just get over it, as her mother used to say. There was nothing from yesterday, or any other day in her life, that could hurt her today. She didn't know if she really believed that, but her parents always insisted "the past is the past" whenever she reminded them of the many occasions they had forgotten her.

Dave pulled to a slow stop in front of the barn, and a chill wind blew up from the lake, blasting Shay in the face the moment she stepped out of Dave's car. She was glad she hadn't bothered to sneak any eye liner today, because the cold made her eyes tear up and she didn't want to have black stain running down her cheeks. She looked around the field and saw that only a few of the horses had ventured out, and they had started a slow pace back to the barn. Shay knew that the horses interpreted the arrival of people as a signal that fresh water and more hay would soon be available.

Dave turned off the ignition and got out of the car. "I just want to have a look around, and make sure no one is here who shouldn't be," he said. "You girls stay by the car while I check out the barn and look around the fields a bit."

"Do you think there are any bad guys in there, waiting to pounce on him?" Larissa asked excitedly as Dave disappeared into the barn. The younger girl was hopping from foot to foot, whether from the cold or from excitement, Shay couldn't tell.

"Pounce?" Shay smiled at Larissa's choice of words. "No, I don't think Dave is going to get pounced on by anyone. Are you sure you want to stay here with me?" Shay asked. "It's okay of you want to go home."

"No," Larissa said indignantly, "I'm not scared, I just wanted to know if you thought there were any pouncers around."

Shay smiled at Larissa, "You and your words," she said.

Dave came back out of the barn. "Well, I don't see any signs that anyone has been here since the police left. Remember, you two girls," he said, shaking his finger at them, "be careful. I don't want you riding the horses or doing anything risky. Just feed and water and clean. I'll be back to pick you up in three hours."

"We'll be careful," Shay replied and waved him off. She still wasn't used to anyone worrying about her safety. Her parents had barely noticed her, let alone worried about anything bad ever happening to her, and Shay had stayed as invisible as possible in the other foster homes so no one ever had to tell her to do anything. She didn't know if she liked this much attention. Sometimes it felt like Dave and Jolene were intruding on her privacy, and other times it made her feel smothered. Still, she didn't actually hate the concern, and that was a good enough reason to let it go without argument, at least for now

"Okay, Larissa," Shay turned to the other girl after Dave's car turned the corner and was out of sight. "We've got a lot to do this morning. Have you ever mucked out a stall before, or carried oats, or done anything with the horses other than ride them? I can't remember ever seeing you do any of the work when we were riding."

Larissa shook her head as she struggled to keep up with Shay's long strides. She wasn't much shorter than Shay, but she was rounder and she always made walking look like it was a challenge.

"I usually just ride, so I'm not sure how to do everything, but I know how to brush the horses, and I can learn to do the feed and water. Anyone can shovel horse poop, even me," Larissa replied cheerfully.

Shay laughed. She was realizing that Larissa was trying to be like her and she couldn't help but feel flattered by the younger girl's attitude. "Well," she said, "if the horses have the two of us working on them, they should be okay."

"Hey," a friendly voice called from a distance.

Shay looked up to see Grace's winter-bundled form making her way down the road. "What are you doing here?" Shay called out, happy to see her friend.

"I called your house and Jolene said you were here so I had my dad drop me off at the road," Grace replied. "I thought I'd come over and help you guys with the horses. I have nothing else to do, and I like horses well enough." Grace smiled at the other two girls, her cheeks rosy from the walk and the weather, making her look like a pink-cheeked cherub. The only thing that gave away her teen status was the new flash of dyed blue hair that ran through her bangs.

"Hey, what did you do to your hair? I really like it," Shay said.

"Oh, I just sprayed some colour in. Mom nearly flipped, but when she found out it would wash out she said I could leave it for the weekend. She'll never let me wear it to school. Do you like it?"

"It looks great, Grace!" Larissa gushed.

Shay laughed "It looks good, but you look kind of like a retro punk."

"Wow, do you think so? Do I really look like a punk?" Grace asked excitedly.

"Yeah, you look like trouble. Does that make you happy?" Shay asked, smiling. Grace was eager to stretch her limits, but she always tried to find ways to do it that didn't cause trouble for anyone. Without waiting for a reply, Shay went on "Okay, it's three of us here to do the mighty job of shovelling shit." The other girls giggled. "Come on in the barn," Shay said, "and I'll show you what to do."

The trio trudged across the dirty snow that was pounded down hard by the hooves of the milling horses. Shay felt unusually happy, even better than 'good enough'. She was sorry about what had happened to Mr. Fletcher, yet she couldn't help but feel happy for herself. It seemed like her life was going okay for once. She liked her foster parents, even if they did fight with her about her make up and sometimes her clothes. They were kind to her but they didn't push her to hug them or try to make her pretend she was part of their family. And Grace and Larissa were her first real friends.

School wasn't bad, either. Her grades were good and her teachers were okay. She didn't know a lot of kids there, but she got along with them well enough to say hi and to find someone to eat lunch with if Grace wasn't around. Most importantly, on the weekends and sometimes after school, she had the horses. And, maybe even better than how the horses made her feel was the feeling of calm she got from knowing that her parents couldn't drag her out of this life and back to their lives of chaos and fear. There was a court order this time. If they ever wanted to see her, they could visit, but they couldn't take her back to that everyday life of fear and hunger and loneliness. Shay smiled again, and then closed her lips quickly as a chill wind blew against her teeth. Despite the bad thing that had happened to Mr. Fletcher, it was going to be a good day for Shay James.

Chapter Four

Stacking the Deck

The girls squinted into the shadows, waiting for their eyes to adjust as they entered the gloom of the barn. It was full daylight outside but the only light that came in to the building was through the double doors and the slatted windows up by the rafters. During the summer, the large glassless windows let in light and air, but during the winter, they were closed by heavy wooden shutters so that the icy winds that blew up off the lake didn't get to the horses. Still, it was enough light to work with and they knew from experience that their eyes would adjust quickly enough.

"You get the pitch fork and the wheelbarrow," Shay said to Larissa, pointing to the equipment that was stacked against the first of the ten stalls that lined the opposite side of the barn. "Then muck out the stalls and dump the wheel barrow behind the back of the barn. You'll see the big mound of stuff when you take it out." Shay pointed to the wall that held the pitch forks, lined up neatly and hanging on nails beside the shovels just inside the front door.

"You mean there's a big pile of frozen horse poop back there?" Larissa asked.

"Yup," Shay said. "Mr. Fletcher collects it all winter and then sells it to garden shops in the spring."

"Wow, I didn't know people would actually pay for that stuff," Larissa said. "Who'd have thought, eh?" Larissa paused and her wide blue eyes opened as if they had seen had ghost. "Hey, what if we find a clue today? Maybe we'll find something that will lead to the attacker and we'll solve the mystery."

Shay looked at the excited girl, barely holding back her exasperation that the younger girl could be so silly and immature. "What happened to Mr. Fletcher is a crime for the police, not a mystery for us. We aren't some dorky girl detectives club."

"Shay's right," Grace said. "This isn't a game or a television show, its real life and Mr. Fletcher really got hurt." She turned back to her friends, a thoughtful look on her face. "Still, you can't help but think about it. You know, it occurred to me that maybe whoever did this didn't mean to hurt Mr. Fletcher. Maybe he was in the barn and Mr. Fletcher caught him by surprise. My dad thinks that's what happened too, but my mom thinks it was some crazy psycho running around Proctor attacking people," Grace said laughingly. "But you know how my parents are," she said. "They just have to disagree with each other on principle."

"Does your mom think more people are going to get hurt by the attacker?" Larissa asked.

"No, she just wanted to disagree with my dad. Disagreeing with each other is kind of their hobby," Grace laughed. "If she really thought that, she would never have let me come here today."

"The police think Mr. Fletcher probably walked into something that wasn't supposed to be going on, too. But why would anyone be here in the first place?" Shay was curious, even though she didn't like to admit it to the others. "They weren't here to steal a horse because there isn't any way to get a horse out of Proctor unless you ride them over the mountains or take them on the ferry. The mountains are impassable this time of year, and you sure can't sneak a horse onto a boat."

"What about the equipment?" Larissa said. "There's a tractor here, and lots of farm stuff. What if someone wanted to steal those?"

"Same as the horses," Grace said. "Someone would recognize it sooner or later. All the farm land here is open to one road or another. You can't steal anything as big as a tractor and keep it secret for long, and there isn't any way to get it out of town. Besides, Mr. Fletcher hardly ever uses that stuff. Most of its so rusty and broken it's not even much good for parts."

"Ooh," Shay was startled by sudden rough touch of Freckle's nose, rubbing up and down her back, as if to remind her that the horses were waiting for their food and water. "I'm sorry, girl," she said, turning to scratch the horse's head. "Come on, you guys, we came here to take care of the horses, not to play detective. Let's get to work."

They went to their tasks. The girls worked hard but they still had fun gossiping about kids at school and the other teens in Proctor. Grace talked about her math grades; she was worried that she wouldn't get into medical school if she didn't get her marks up, and she wanted advice on how to get her mom to let her put real dye on her hair.

Shay was surprised that Grace put so much thought into her future. It had never occurred to Shay to think about life beyond the next foster home or the new social worker. Her parents never thought beyond the next drug buy, or the next meal, and they sure hadn't taught her to think about a future. What should I do with my life when I finish high school in a few years, Shay wondered. She'd been sent to lots of counselors who all wanted to talk to her about her past, but no one had ever talked to her about her long-term plans or life after foster care. Shay made a mental note to start thinking about a career, and where she wanted her life to go.

The morning went quickly, and by the time Dave arrived they had cleaned the stalls and laid fresh hay, topped the water and the feed and Curry-combed most of the horses.

The girls jumped into the SUV, glad for the warmth of the large vehicle. Dave put the SUV in gear and drove slowly down the ice covered road. "Everything go okay today?" he asked. "Your coming to our house for lunch, I guess," he nodded toward Grace, smiling.

"Thanks," she said. "That would be great."

"Listen," Dave said, "the police called again and they've spoken to some of the other parents as well. We just can't let you kids keep coming here. I'm afraid this has put the kybosh on you girls going to Fletcher's as long as some creep is still at large."

"What? That's not fair!" Shay almost shrieked. She took a deep breathe, trying to calm herself. Another thing she had learned from her parents was that no one listens to a yeller. At least, she had never listened to her parents when they were yelling, and surely they had never listened to her. "There are three of us, right? Nobody's going to do anything to us! We aren't little kids; we can run if someone strange shows up," she said, looking at the other girls for confirmation. They nodded quickly.

"Grace, I'm sorry, but I've talked with your dad, and he's of the same mind as me," Dave said patiently. "I know you girls are worried about the horses, and I know how important they are to you, but this is too serious. Even if the attacker doesn't come back, you could get hurt riding or being around the horses without adult supervision. We can't take that kind of risk with your safety."

"Then why did you let us come here this morning if you were just going to change your mind?" Shay asked indignantly.

"Well Shay, sometimes adults make mistakes too and my mistake was to let you come here this morning. I'll call Mr. Fletcher and tell him he has to make his own arrangements for the care of the horses. The old guy might just have to open his wallet and pay someone to help out for a change. Whatever happens, this is for adults to work out, not you kids."

Shay sat back in her seat, staring straight ahead. She knew things had been going too well. First she had a home she liked, then she had the horses, and finally, she had friends. Now, the horses were being taken away from her, and she knew in her heart that the rest would soon follow. As long as she could remember, her life had felt like a stack of cards, barely balanced, as if it had been designed to fall, and as soon as one of the cards was pulled, they all tumbled. If the horses were gone, then the rest would go, too, because that was how her life worked. Another lesson her parents had taught Shay was that nothing lasts, not the good stuff and not the bad stuff. The only difference, Shay thought, was that the good stuff never lasted as long as the bad.

Shay could feel someone staring at her and she glanced over at Larissa, who was, indeed, looking intently back at Shay. Shay saw that the cheeks of the younger girl were wet with silent tears running out of her blue eyes, like a soft rain falling from the bright winter sky.

Shay didn't know how Larissa had ended up a foster kid, especially when she had grandparents somewhere. As far as Shay was concerned, there was never a good reason for a kid ending up without parents to take care of him or her, but that had happened to both her and Larissa and it created a special bond between the two of them. They had both been victims of whatever winds their parents and social workers blew their way. But, no more! Shay James wasn't going to sit back and let everything that was currently good in her life slip away. If she wasn't allowed near the horses because some creep was running around on the loose, then she was going to find the creep. This time, she wasn't going to just sit there and let others pull away at her stack of cards. Grace and Larissa didn't know it yet, but dorky or not, the Detectives Club had just been formed. Shay clamped her jaw shut, and looked at Larissa, giving her the thumbs up sign. It was going to be very different this time...

Chapter Five

The Plan Develops

The girls ate in dispirited silence while Jolene bustled around the kitchen preparing sandwiches, dishing up bowls of her special homemade chicken noodle soup, and trying to lighten the mood. It seemed to Shay that this foster mom tried to solve all of life's problems with food. Well, at least Jolene's food was tasty, Shay thought, and there were certainly worse ways to try to manage life.

"I know you girls are disappointed, but you can't expect us to let you go into a risky situation," she said, wiping the counter top clean of the crumbs left from the tuna sandwiches. "You've taken care of the horses for today, and Dave will see to it that Mr. Fletcher hires someone else to take care of the animals and his property from now on. These are hard time with lots of people needing work, so there'll be someone eager for a few extra dollars."

"Well, it isn't fair," Larissa said as the pout on her face almost formed the words for her. "We can take care of ourselves, at least Shay and I can."

"I can, too," Grace interjected.

"I know you can under normal circumstances, but this is something altogether different." Shay couldn't help but notice that Jolene's patience never seemed to run out.

"What normal circumstances?" Larissa asked hotly. "I never had any normal circumstances when I lived with my mom and I did okay!"

Jolene put down her dish rag and turned to Larissa. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you. I know you girls had to take care of yourselves and it's obvious you managed really well," she said. "But you have adults in your lives to take care of you now, and it's our job to protect you. That means we have to put limits on what you're allowed to do."

Larissa opened her sandwich filled mouth to protest, but Shay cut her off.

"It doesn't matter," Shay said. "I'm sure you're right Jolene. Mr. Fletcher will find someone else to take care of the horses. You said he has lots of money so he can probably afford it."

Grace and Larissa both stopped chewing and looked at Shay in surprised silence.

"I'd like to visit him at the hospital, if that would be all right," Shay continued. "I want him to know we did our best, and I'd like to see how he's doing."

Jolene turned from the counter and looked at Shay for a moment. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised you're taking this so well, Shay. You've always behaved older than your years."

"Well, I'm not old and I'm not taking it well," Larissa said angrily. "How can you just expect us to leave the horses? You know Mr. Fletcher won't pay anyone for long. He'll sell the horses or something awful and then my life will be a huge and miserable mess!"

Shay looked Larissa squarely in the eye and spoke calmly. "We just have to trust the adults this time, Larissa," she said. "I'm sure they know what's best for us."

Grace was slowly spooning some of the thick soup into her mouth and watching Shay with a keen interest. She put the spoon down, "I think it's a good idea if we go visit him," Grace said. "My mom's going into town today and she'll take us with her if we hurry. Is that all right with you, Jolene?" she asked.

"I guess so," Jolene said slowly. "In fact, I think it's a very good idea. I'll call your mom and make sure it's okay with her. In the meantime, you girls clean up here." She left the room to call Grace's mother and Shay quickly grabbed up the plates and shoved them into the sink, running the hot water over them to drown out her voice. She motioned the other two girls to the counter.

"What's with you, Shay?" Larissa asked angrily. "How come you suddenly don't care about the horses? You know the grownups aren't going to do this right!"

"We aren't going to give up this easily, Larissa," Shay replied. "But we're going to have to do this on our own and we're going to have to keep it between ourselves. If we argue with them, they'll ground us or something, and then we'll never find out what happened to Mr. Fletcher."

"I knew you had something in mind," Grace said, grinning. "I knew you wouldn't really give up. I'm all for it." She reached for a dish towel and started drying their plates. "What have you got planned for us to do?"

"I haven't had time to really think this through, but we can start by talking to Mr. Fletcher and finding out why someone would want to hurt him. There's something very strange going on here, and we're going to find out who's behind it."

"You mean we really are going be detectives?" Larissa could barely contain her excitement. She hopped from one foot to the other as she took the plates from Grace and put them in the cupboard.

"This is serious stuff, Larissa. If we wait for the police to find out anything, then nothing will ever happen. My parents are major thieves and drug dealers but the police never catch them for the big things, just the little stuff that gets them probation or maybe six months in jail. They'll never catch whoever did this to Mr. Fletcher," Shay said, shaking her head. "And, Mr. Fletcher won't pay anyone to take care of the horses for long, so the only thing I can think will happen is that he'll sell the horses. We can't let that happen."

"I know what you mean about the police not doing anything," Larissa said slowly, "No one ever found out who murdered my mother, and my father's been missing for years. I don't think anyone's even looked for him," Larissa added. "My mom was just a hooker and my dad was just a pimp, at least that's what the police and my grandfather said. The police don't work hard on cases that are about losers. So, I know the police won't do anything about a crabby old guy like Fletcher getting hit on the head. Especially, when he didn't even die."

Shay and Grace looked awkwardly at each other, and then back at Larissa. Neither of them had known what had happened to Larissa's parents, and they would never have guessed her mother had been murdered. Another lesson Shay had learned from living with her parents was that there was always somebody else's story that was worse than her own, and it looked like that was true here.

"We're here to see Mr. Fletcher," Shay said to the woman who had finally shown up at the nursing desk. The hospital was small and understaffed, and they had waited patiently for several minutes before anyone even noticed they were there.

"Third room, down the hall to your right," the nurse gestured. "Don't stay long girls; he's an old man and he tires very easily." Shay noticed the nurse mentally dismiss them before she even opened the chart in her hand.

They walked slowly down the hall, afraid to make too much sound in such a strange place. The wide open doors allowed a view into all of the rooms as they passed and the girls tried unsuccessfully to avoid the temptation to peer at the people in the beds in the first two rooms.

"Do you really want to be a doctor?" Larissa asked Grace. "This place stinks, and the sick people are kind of creepy." Someone in another room coughed loudly and Larissa grimaced ``Oh, make me gag or what," she said.

"They aren't creepy, they're sick or injured," Grace replied. "But I don't want to be a doctor in a hospital like this. I want to go to a Third World Nation and work in refugee camps. They really need help in those places and you can actually make a difference in the world with that kind of work."

There she goes again, Shay thought, more plans for the future. Shay felt Grace's words fall like an invisible wall between her own world as a foster kid, and the world of normal kids with normal families. But, if normal kids made plans for their futures, then she had better start doing the same, because there was no one to do it for her. She double ticked her earlier mental note.

They walked into the large room and saw six beds; three against each back wall, and all filled with men watching television or sleeping. Mr. Fletcher was lying in the first bed on the right and to Shay, the whole set up of tubes and wires and machines around his bed was like something out of a science fiction movie. Most of the tubes ran from his hand to a couple of plastic bags hanging above his head. But, he had a tube running up his nose and a wire attached to something that ran down his chest and he wore a blue hospital gown that was too big and it gave him the look of a little boy trying to play grown up. The gown was stained on the front with what looked like yellow egg yoke, and it made Mr. Fletcher look small and vulnerable, nothing like the tough old guy who yelled at the kids whenever they did something he didn't like with the horses. The sight of the old man laying there looking so helpless made Shay suddenly feel very protective of him. Ever since the incident had happened, Shay had focused on how the crime threatened her life with the horses; now she felt guilty that she had given so little thought to Mr. Fletcher and what he had suffered. The old man was watching a television that was hooked to the wall and he had the remote in the hand that didn't have a tube taped to it. He was clicking away from one channel to another with remarkable speed.

"Hi, Mr. Fletcher," Grace said and gave a little wave in greeting. She walked to the side of the bed and smiled down at him. He had a bandage on the back of his head, and a day's worth of unshaved stubble on his chin. His cheekbones looked sharp enough to cut through the thinning skin on his face. "We've come to visit you," she said cheerfully. The other two girls lined up beside her, confused about what to say next. Shay was thankful for Grace's easy social skills.

"What are you doing here? Why would you come for a visit?" he asked. His voice had a petulant, whining tone. "Have you killed one of my horses? Don't tell me you've burned down the barn!"

Shay hadn't expected much better from him, but she thought he might at least thank her for saving his life.

"No, Mr. Fletcher, everything is fine. But we aren't allowed to take care of the horses anymore until the person who attacked you is caught."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Fletcher muttered. "I already got called by half a dozen parents today, including that foster parent of yours," he glared accusingly at Shay. "Well, there's nothing to discuss. I'll sell the damned things now and I'll buy some new horses when I get out of here. Or maybe I'll just sell the whole farm and get out of the horse business. I've been in it too long anyway, and it doesn't make enough money to count. Those real estate agents are always calling me to sell the place. I guess I could get some real good money out of it. Lakefront property like mine sells for millions, nowadays. I couldn't have given that property away twenty years ago, now, hell, I can sell it and be a rich man."

"I thought you were already a rich man, Mr. Fletcher," Larissa said tactlessly, "at least that's what Jolene told us."

Mr. Fletcher stared at Larissa as if she was an alien, sprouting antennae from her head. After a moment he looked away from her and turned back to the television. "Jolene Halliwell said that? Well, she never did know what she was talking about. She always had a big mouth too. Anyway, it doesn't hurt to get richer," he added grumpily.

Fletcher continued to punch down on the remote channel changer, looking from the girls to the television then back at the girls as if he couldn't make up his mind who to give his attention to.

"No, Mr Fletcher, please don't sell the horses," Larissa said. "That's why we're here. We're going to find out who did this to you and catch them and then we can go back to the horses. Just tell us who would want to hurt you and we'll catch him and everything will go back to the way it was before. "

Shay sighed and rolled her eyes. The direction of the conversation was not what she had planned, and she knew it wouldn't get them anywhere with Mr. Fletcher.

Mr. Fletcher grunted. "Well, at least you're honest and not pretending that you care about me," he said. "I can appreciate that you want to do something for yourselves; that makes more sense than any damn lie about caring about what happens to me."

Grace opened her mouth to protest, but Mr. Fletcher gestured with the remote for her to be quiet. "I can't help you out. I don't know why anyone would want to do something to me. Lots of people hate me. Hell, I hate lots of people, but no one's ever tried to break my head before."

"You said your property is worth a lot and people want you to sell it," Grace said. "Maybe someone is trying to make you get rid of it."

"Could be," Mr. Fletcher nodded. "But I don't think there are many real estate agents around Nelson who would take the time to attack me in my barn. They just keep at you like a swarm of damned mosquitoes till you give in and sell. I don't think they beat people up, even for lakefront property."

"If no one wants to hurt you, then there has to be someone, somewhere, that you can think of who has something to gain from the horses, or from something in the barn," Shay said.

Mr. Fletcher looked at her thoughtfully, "You are a bright girl, aren't you. You're a natural with the horses and a damned hard worker to boot. Maybe you three aren't so bad after all," he grudgingly admitted.

Grace smiled at him, feeling pleased that they had managed to connect with the cranky old man. "Oh, don't start getting all smiley faced," he said, scowling at Grace as if she had done something offensive. "I only said maybe you aren't so bad. That still leaves a lot of territory that isn't so hot. But, if I think of anything that can help, I'll let you know. I told the police the same thing two hours ago. I'm not anxious to let some bastard smack my skull again." He turned back to the television and they knew that nothing more would come of this interview.

They said their good byes and left the hospital, deep in thought.

"You know," Grace broke the silence as they made their way along the snow covered sidewalks to the café where they were to meet Grace's mom, "I think you and my dad are right," she said. "Mr. Fletcher's said it himself: he's never gotten along with anyone, but no one's ever tried to hurt him before. It's not like he does really bad stuff to anyone, he's just crabby and rude. And this doesn't seem like it was planned or the criminals would have come equipped with a weapon and they probably wouldn't have left him alive."

"Yes, I think I'm right too," Shay said. "But it didn't look like the police had searched the place very thoroughly. I didn't see anything out of place or moved while we were cleaning the barn, and we had lots of time to notice anything different. If the police were going to search it properly, they would have done it by now."

Shay had lived through enough searches of her parent's places to know what a thorough police search looked like. When she was little, she had learned early on not to get attached to any of her dolls because each time the police arrived at her parent's door with a search warrant, her dolls were ripped apart by some officer looking for hidden drugs. Shay shook her head and brought her mind back to the present. The barn didn't have that type of 'searched' look; everything was still in the usual place and nothing was overturned or moved.

"They probably don't know what to look for in a barn filled with horses and broken machinery. I bet they just took fingerprints and tried to figure out if anything was missing. I didn't notice anything different than usual when we cleaned the place, did you guys?" Grace asked.

"Nope," Larissa answered. "But I wasn't looking for anything, either. You said we weren't detectives then so I was just thinking about shovelling manure and talking to you guys and what Jolene might make be making for lunch."

"Yeah, well, I guess I shouldn't have been so quick about that," Shay said. "We need to go back there and search properly. We didn't even look in the hayloft. And there's that whole front part of the barn that has all the old machinery in it. We never went near that."

"I bet the police didn't look too closely in the stalls either," Larissa snickered. "They hadn't been mucked out in days. They wouldn't want to get their shiny boots covered in horse manure, I bet."

"So, how do we get back to the barn?" Grace asked. She looked in the window of the restaurant and saw her mother sipping coffee at a table near the back. Mrs. Norton looked up smiling and waved them in. "My mother has the same opinion as Jolene; she won't let me near the place anymore."

"We have some planning to do," Shay answered, "that's for sure."

"Yes, we have to do some planning, but first, we have something more important to do," Grace said. "Mom wants to buy me some new pants today before we go home. You guys have to be on my side. She'll want something that's pink or yellow with a waist that goes up to my arm pits. You have to help me!"

"What's wrong with pink?" Larissa asked innocently.

"Boy, are you young," Shay said.

Chapter Six

Finding the Clues

Shay didn't tell lies. In fact, she was proud that choosing not to lie was further proof that she was different from her parents. Even though she didn't trust anyone else, she made sure that everyone could trust her. But Shay knew that if she was going to keep the horses in her life, she was going to have to resort to some desperate measures. In many ways, her effort to save the horses was like saving her own life. Shay had been pushed around by adults for as long as she could remember. No one had ever made her the most important person in their life, but everyone expected her to do what she was told. And, so far, she pretty much had. But not this time. Even though Dave and Jolene were really nice people, they were still only foster parents who were paid to take care of her, and Shay knew she would be moved on to another foster home sooner or later. All she had that was just for her was the horses, and the only group she'd ever belonged to was the regulars. No, she wasn't going to stand by and let anyone take all of that from her without a fight. So, when Shay looked Jolene straight in the eye and told her that she and Larissa were going to Grace's house for the day, she knew that Jolene would believe her.

"You promise me that you girls will stay away from Fletcher's barn and property?" Jolene asked.

"Yes, we promise," Shay answered for Larissa as well. She didn't want Larissa to have to lie, too. It was bad enough that she was including Larissa in the activity.

Jolene still looked concerned. "You know you girls really don't have to worry about the horses. Tom Jacobs told Dave that he would take care of the horses till Fletcher can arrange an auction. He lives with his mother on Pettigrew Road and she's got a couple of horses that she's too old to take care of herself, so he does that for her. He'll know what to do at the barn."

Tom Jacobs was raised in Proctor, but succumbed to the lure of the big city and moved to Vancouver over twenty years ago. Not too long ago, he had moved back to the rural area and was living with his mother in the old family home.

"Why is he willing to work for Mr. Fletcher?" Shay asked. "There can't be enough money for a grown up to want to do the job. Does he like horses or something?" It seemed strange to Shay that a grown man would take care of the horses for the small amount of money that Fletcher would pay.

"I guess so. He grew up with horses on his mother's farm and he rode the horses at Harrop when he was young, so maybe he has a soft spot for Mr. Fletcher like the rest of you kids. Anyway, there isn't much work for Tom this time of year. Seems like he's had some hard times for a while now, and I imagine he'll do anything for a couple of dollars here and there. By the way," Jolene added, "you should know that he was in prison for a time a few years back, and he messes with drugs and he can't hold a regular job with his drinking, so you make double sure you don't go over to the barn. I don't want you to be around someone who might be under the influence."

Shay suppressed a smile. Her parents had been stoned, drunk or hung over almost every moment of her life, as had their friends who dropped by at all hours of the day and night. Shay knew more about how to behave around drunks than she did about how to behave with sober, responsible adults. And, from what Larissa had said about her mother, the younger girl was also all too familiar with out of control adults.

"You know, it seems to me that you've never taken Larissa with you before," Jolene said suspiciously. "And she is a good bit younger than you. Is something going on here that I should know about?"

"Well, we've become better friends with all the things happening at Fletcher's. She's sort of become the little sister I never had." Shay was surprised, and dismayed, at how easily the lies flowed out of her. "Grace has to clean out her chicken coop today and since she helped us with the horses, we thought we should pay her back by helping her with the chickens." Shay stopped talking. Too many words can easily give the lie away, her father had always told her. That was another useful piece of parental information she had never expected to use.

"Okay," Jolene said slowly. Shay knew the foster parent had no reason to doubt the girls and Shay was taking full advantage of that. "Be sure you're back by supper. I'm putting on a roast for tonight and I know how you love my Yorkshire pudding," Jolene added, and waved them off.

The two girls hurried to meet Grace at Fletcher's barn. They cut across the small lakeside park and followed the railway tracks to avoid the main road. They didn't want anyone to see them walking to the barn and later mention it to Dave or Jolene. It took Shay and Larissa almost half an hour to pick their way along the frozen shore, and Grace was waiting for them as they trudged up from the beach to the front of the barn.

"Okay," Shay said. "We've got lots of time to look for clues, and we should see to the horses' water and feed as well. You can't trust a druggie to take care of animals properly. Whatever care we give them might be all they get today."

"What do we do if Tom shows up?" Grace asked. "He must know that we aren't allowed to be here."

"I don't know. I'll think of something," Shay hadn't considered the possibility of anyone else showing up later in the day. She was used to Mr. Fletcher's routine of going to the barn in the early mornings. "I'm sure that the most he'll do is make us leave. He isn't the type of person that the Halliwell's or your parents would ever talk with, so it's not likely he'll tell them even if he sees us."

They walked into the barn and without thinking, Shay reached up and flicked the light switch. The lights came on.

"Hey," Grace said as the place lit up, "who fixed the lights?"

"That's weird," Shay said. "I forgot they weren't working that day. I don't know how they got fixed...Tom Jacobs must have done it."

"Well, that's doubtful," Grace said. "My dad says that Tom Jacobs is a useless drunk who's never done an honest day's work in his life. Why would he bother fixing a frozen electrical circuit when he's just supposed to be giving the horses food and water? He doesn't need lights during the day."

"Maybe he's coming here in the late afternoon or at night to take care of the horses," Larissa said. "Guys like Tom Jacobs don't have a regular kind of schedule. Anyway, how do you know freezing caused the lights to stop working?" Larissa asked.

"The lights in the barns around here always go out in the winter because the wires freeze and break. You can't use them much or they get overloaded in the cold. My dad fixes ours all the time, but it takes special tools and it's not easy. Whenever I hear him swearing, I know the wires have gone again," Grace replied.

Shay knew some things about electricity from her dad, too. He had often made money by renting isolated houses that he never intended to live in and using them to grow large amounts of marijuana in the basements. The power boxes were always in danger of blowing fuses from all the electricity that the grow lights and fans sucked up. Shay had learned to replace fuses before she could even read. Again, she could feel the invisible wall between her life and the life that Grace had been given.

"Where's the breaker box?" Shay asked, looking around the barn until she spotted it on the side wall a few feet from the door. She walked over to it and opened the metal door covering the fuses and breaker switches. "Some of these fuses are newer than others. And a couple of them looked like they blew from an overload," she said, noting the familiar black burn around the back of the box. "Mr. Fletcher wouldn't overload the power box with just the barn lights. He hardly ever needs lights during the day when he's here, and he wouldn't add anything that would risk a blow out. He'd be afraid of the sparks igniting a fire."

"Wow, we've already found our first clue!" Larissa exclaimed.

"We might have," Shay agreed. "But it doesn't tell us anything helpful. At this rate we're more like the Girls Electricians Club instead of the Detectives Club."

"Okay, we search on," Grace laughed.

Shay and Larissa decided to look around the hay loft and Grace, declaring her fear of heights, decided to poke around the front part of the barn that housed the snow plough and other large, decrepit looking outdoor equipment.

Shay and Larissa climbed up the heavy ladder that was securely attached to both the floor of the barn and to the hay loft above. Shay scooted quickly up the thick rungs; she was used to climbing the ladder to throw down the hay bales each weekend. When she had first started riding, she could barely move the bales, but a few months of doing this chore had strengthened her upper body better than anything her gym routine would ever do.

"What is it we're looking for?" Larissa asked.

"I'm not really sure," Shay said. "I guess we look for anything that doesn't seem like it belongs in Mr. Fletcher's barn."

"But there are always lots of kids and teenagers going in and out of here on the weekends, so they could have dropped anything."

"Yes," Shay agreed. "But only the regulars have been here since the last load of winter hay arrived, and they can identify their own stuff. Like I said, just look for anything that Mr. Fletcher wouldn't bring, or allow us to have on the property, and then we can decide what to do about it."

They searched the loft quietly, each girl concentrating on the ground and looking through the rusted tools and small farm implements that lay scattered about.

"It's too dark up here. The bales are in the way and the lights are too far away to do any good here," Larissa complained. "Can we open that little door to let in some day light?" she pointed at the opening in the dormer. It was shaped like a window, but it had wooden slats covering it instead of glass. When the hay loads arrived, the hay was lifted by a rope and pulley with a grappling hook attached and loaded into the loft for storage.

"Yeah, that's a good idea. I'll do it," Shay worked her way across the loft, climbing over and between the hay bales that covered most of the rough plank floor. Grabbing onto a wooden truss above her head and leaning forward, she swung the small door outward. The winter daylight flooded in, filling the gloomy loft with stunningly bright afternoon sun. Shay, disoriented by the sudden brightness, lost her balance and fell back onto a stack of hay bales, knocking the top one over.

"Ooof!" the sound came out of her like a popping cork.

"Are you okay?" Larissa asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Shay answered as she straightened up. "The light really got my eyes for a second." She brushed the hay off her backside and grabbed the hay bale to move it back into place. "Good thing I didn't fall out the door."

"No kidding. We'd have been caught for sure if you broke a leg or died from the fall," Larissa said in a relief-tinged voice. "Jolene would never have let us out of the house again."

Shay smiled and shook her head. "Well, at least you know what's important here." Shay pulled again on the heavy bale. Something glinting in the sun caught her eye. Lying close together on the floor and wedged between two bales of hay were the end of a half smoked marijuana joint, a digital camera and a beer bottle cap. She picked them up and called to Larissa.

"Come here! Look at this," she said. Larissa moved as quickly as she could over the hay bales. Shay held out her hand and showed Larissa the items. "They must have been under the edge of that hay bale."

Larissa took the cap and joint in her gloved hand. "I know lots about beer bottle caps and joints, but not much about cameras." She looked at Shay and blushed. "My mom did that kind of stuff, you know, the beer and the joint. It was always lying around our apartment."

"I know," Shay said kindly. "My parents did the same thing. Come on, let's show Grace what we've found. Her family wouldn't know much about dope but they'll know enough about cameras."

The girls crossed the loft and went quickly down the ladder.

"Grace, look what we found," Shay called to her friend.

Grace looked up from her position on the floor. She had been crawling around on her hands and knees, looking for anything that didn't belong beneath rusted farm equipment. So far, she had only found a large cache of broken wires, rusted metal bits, rat droppings, and pieces of old rubber tubing.

"What is it?" she stood up and wiped her dust and dirt covered gloves on her jacket.

Shay showed her the camera and the other two items.

Grace glanced briefly at the bottle cap. It was a standard type of beer bottle, like her dad occasionally drank and her older brother snuck from the house on weekends. She looked more closely at the camera but didn't turn it on.

Larissa was excited. "These might be more clues, right? We'll be able to figure everything out now, won't we?"

Shay cocked her head. "Well, they're sure something. I don't know if Mr. Fletcher drinks beer at home, but he'd never bring alcohol here, and he sure wouldn't let anyone else. And as for the marijuana, he'd have a fit if he knew anyone used drugs around his property. You know how he's always going on about insurance and law suits. So it has to have come from someone who doesn't ride here, at least not in the winter. But I don't know about the camera," she said. "I guess he could have one. But why would it be with this other stuff?"

Grace walked over toward the open barn door and held the camera up. "Let's see what's on it." She turned it on, while the other two girls looked over her shoulder to see the tiny screen.

The screen brightened and Shay gasped as the images became clear. Larissa stood on her tiptoes, trying to get a better view. "I can't see anything from this angle, it just looks all shiny," she said. "Turn the camera my way for a second, Grace."

Neither Grace nor Shay moved. Their eyes tracked the images on the screen for another minute while Grace manoeuvred to get a better visual.

Grace suddenly turned the camera off and quickly moved away from Larissa. "Larissa, don't look at this, it isn't something you should see," she said.

"What isn't?" Larissa asked. "What can't I see?"

"It's nothing," Grace answered quickly.

Shay hesitated. She knew what it was like to be lied to by everyone in her life, and she didn't want to do the same thing to Larissa. "It looks like it might be porn," she said, "And you're only twelve. You don't need to see this kind of thing."

"Like I've never seen that kind of thing before," Larissa said indignantly. "I told you my mom was a hooker and my dad was a pimp. I've seen lots of stuff I bet you two haven't even thought about."

"Well," Grace said patiently, "that doesn't mean you should see more of it."

"So why is it okay for you two to look at it?" Larissa asked. Her bottom lip was trembling and Shay knew that it wasn't about what was on the camera, she knew that Larissa was feeling excluded and her feelings were hurt.

"It isn't okay for us to look at it either. We've already seen enough," Shay said.

"Okay, if you guys aren't going to look at it, then I don't have to either. Hey, why would anyone have this in the barn?" Larissa asked, already feeling better.

"I think someone has been taking dirty pictures in here," Shay said. "The people were sitting on hay bales like these and on some equipment that looked like the old stuff on the barn floor."

"Wow!" Larissa said. "Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure," Grace said impatiently. "We've just spent hours searching this place. I know it better than my own house. I recognized the old equipment and the horses and the stalls."

"They took pictures of the equipment and the horse stalls? That's really weird," Larissa said.

"No, no, no," Grace shook her head and grimaced. "Those things are in the background. In a couple of them, the girls are sitting on the old tractor. Well, that explains the overload on the electrical system."

"What do you mean?" Shay asked.

"They had those big lights you use on driveways. You can even see one in the background of one of the pictures," Grace replied. "You can get them at hardware stores. They're portable and they light up any space. Obviously the photographer would have to have more lights than the barn's lighting system could handle, in order to take proper pictures in this dingy place.

"Okay, that makes sense. Who are the people in the pictures? Do you know them?" Shay asked.

"I don't know the name of the woman but I've seen her lots of times around Nelson and Balfour. She really stands out. You've probably seen her too. She has the weirdest hair and makeup you could ever see--it's like something from forty years ago. She's got dyed blonde hair that she wears like an old country singer and she wears way more make up than anyone I've ever seen. It's really gross. The girls in the picture are Sharon Little and Ginger Bronson."

"Whoa, those two losers?" Larissa exclaimed. "Who would want to take pictures of them?"

"I bet it's for Internet porn, that's why they used a digital camera, so they could download it onto the 'net" Grace said. "There are lots of perverts who like to look at naked pictures of teens. Don't you ever read magazines or listen to news stories about this?"

Larissa shook her head. "Jolene and Dave would never let us listen to that kind of thing, even if it was on the news."

"How do you know about this kind of stuff?" Shay asked. Her own knowledge of porn was more extensive than she liked to admit. Her father had bought magazines full of it and left them openly around the house, and it was always on his computer screen. Her mother ignored it, just as she did with most of the really embarrassing things that her father did. But, Shay couldn't understand how someone from a normal family, like Grace, would make the connection from the camera to the Internet.

"My brother, Charles, of course," Grace said. "Mom caught him looking at it on the Internet one night. She gave him a lecture and then gave him a chance to be trusted on the 'net again. Was that dumb or what! My father caught him the second time and that was the end of sweet little Charlie having access to any computer in our house unless my parents are in the same room. Because of him, I have to use my dad's computer in his home office if I need it for school work and I can only use it now when my dad is there to supervise me. As if I'd ever look at that stuff," Grace scowled and shuddered. "Anyway, Charles told me that people take pictures on their digital cameras and then download it and sell it on their own web sites. I've read about this and I've seen news reports on it. Teen porn is a really big industry."

"Can't I just have one look at the pictures?" Larissa asked, overcome by curiosity.

"No," Shay answered emphatically. "We only needed to know what was on the camera so that we would know if it was a clue. That's enough."

"That's for sure. I don't need to look at those again," Grace said. "But who would do this? Do you think it was Mr. Fletcher?"

"I don't think so," Shay said slowly as she worked this out in her mind. "He just isn't the type. I've known lots of creeps, and my creep meter has never registered with him. Besides, he's been around teenagers since before we were born, and Jolene said there's never been any kind of rumour about him. It just doesn't seem like something he'd do or let anyone else do on his property. It must be someone who's using the barn to take the pictures."

"Well, it's so easy to do this kind of thing, you'd think that people would just do it in their own house," Grace reasoned.

"Yes, that would be the logical place," Shay replied. "So why would they need to some location other than their own home".

"Maybe they just wanted interesting backgrounds, like on calendars," Larissa suggested"

"No," Shay shook her head. "This isn't for art. They don't care what's in the background. Maybe it's because they can't use their own places. Maybe they're married to someone who wouldn't like it going on, or maybe they don't have a house. Sharon and Ginger can't use their parents' houses," Shay thought of the two girls. She had seen enough of them around school to know that their lives weren't much better than hers had been before she went into foster care. She shuddered. "It's really gross that he's taking pictures of teenagers, especially pictures of kids we know. There are a lot of laws against that."

"How could he get anyone to do that?" Grace asked innocently. "Why would any teen let a grown man take naked pictures of her?"

Shay and Larissa looked at her silently. Shay had never done anything like this and she didn't even know anyone who did. But she knew that it was pretty easy to get a lonely and lost kid to do anything for enough attention, especially if there were no responsible adults watching over the kid's life. And Sharon and Ginger, both only seventeen, and both the children of alcoholics, were barely making it in school, and had reputations as druggies and misfits. They would be easy prey for any adult who offered attention.

"I guess some kids just get so desperate to be noticed, that it doesn't matter what they're being noticed for," Shay tried to explain.

Grace chewed at her lower lip a moment, "You never get that desperate, do you?" she asked.

"No," Shay answered quietly, "I've learned to live with no one noticing me. Besides, I make my own choices about the kind of person I want to be. But I guess some kids just can't live with being invisible. Maybe that's the way it is for Sharon and Ginger."

"What about you, Larissa?" Grace turned to the younger girl.

Larissa looked away from Grace. "I've never even been asked to do anything like that," she said. "But I know what Shay means. It's just so hard when you don't belong to anyone." Larissa tried to stifle a small sob, but it slipped out anyway. "I guess I sort of belong to my grandparents, but I don't belong enough for them to want to raise me."

Shay wanted to reach out to Larissa, but she felt frozen by her own feelings of anger and hurt built on a lifetime of yearning to be important to someone, to anyone.

"Why are you asking us about this?" she snapped at Grace.

Tears of compassion welled in Grace's eyes. "Because you're my friends," Grace answered as she leaned forward to put her arms around Shay and Larissa. The two foster girls kept their own arms to themselves, but they did not fully pull away. Finally, when it was clear that Grace was not about to let go, Shay gave in and returned the hug. Larissa laid her head against Shay's shoulder and began to sob loudly.

"Are you okay?" Shay asked Larissa, finally pulling herself out of the hug.

Larissa choked back her cries and yanked a tissue out of her pocket. She wiped her eyes and blew her nose. "I hate this kind of mushy stuff. That's why I hated therapy. Those therapy people always want you to cry. As if making me cry is some kind of accomplishment. Any jerk can do that." She stopped and looked at Grace. "I didn't mean you're a jerk!" she said. "Really I didn't, I just meant, I mean..."

Shay giggled and Grace laughed out loud. They all wanted to get off this uncomfortable topic.

"It's okay. I'm a jerk and proud of it," Grace laughed again.

Shay was uncomfortable with the mushy stuff too, and she wanted to change the subject and get back to the search.

"We don't have all day, guys. We need to keep on looking. This might not be all we find, and it might not even have anything to do with Mr. Fletcher getting attacked."

"Well, if we don't know for sure that this is it, then I guess we should keep looking" Larissa said, wiping her nose again.

"Good point," Grace said. "Let's make sure we cover every inch of this barn before we leave because we aren't going to get any chances to come back and search again."

Shay kept the beer cap and the joint and pocketed the camera. The three girls continued their search, but after a couple of hours they finally gave up.

"We aren't going to find anything more," Shay said. "We've searched the barn from top to bottom and around the yard. There's nothing more here."

"Okay, why don't we go to my house for a while? That way you won't have totally been lying," Grace said. 'I can tell my mom we got bored at your place."

"Wow," Larissa grinned. "You mean I can come to your house? And hang out with you guys?"

Grace nodded. "You're part of this, too, Larissa. We cover for each other till we find the bad guy."

"We're like the Three Mouseketeers," Larissa said eagerly.

Shay sighed and shook her head again, "That's Musketeers, Larissa, not Mouseketeers."

Grace giggled, "I don't know about that, Shay, she may be right."

Chapter Seven

Following the Clues

The rest of the week was a blur of busyness and suppressed excitement for the girls. They couldn't talk about the camera on the bus or at school or anywhere they could be overheard, and they didn't have any more opportunities to get together. But Shay found that not talking about the topic actually gave her more time to think about the evidence, and she was beginning to work out what all the clues meant.

First of all, she decided that the pictures on the camera really were a clue to the attack. Whoever took the pictures wouldn't want to get caught. Shay was certain that Mr. Fletcher hadn't been involved in the pictures because she knew that people who would take that kind of picture didn't treat kids the way Mr. Fletcher did. Those types of people were either too nice, so the kid would trust them when it really wasn't safe to do so, or they were pretty mean, because they didn't want a kid around for any reason. Shay had never figured out if Mr. Fletcher liked kids or not, but she knew he didn't care if kids trusted him and he was never outright mean. She knew in her heart that he just wasn't someone who would take bad pictures of kids.

Secondly, Shay figured out that whoever was taking the pictures must have been there when Mr. Fletcher arrived and that was why they attacked him. Or, they came back looking for the camera and found Mr. Fletcher in the barn. Either way, they didn't want to be caught. She had the motive!

Thirdly, Shay decided that the person who attacked Mr. Fletcher probably couldn't use his own houses to take the pictures. Even though Sharon and Ginger's parents didn't pay much attention to their kids, they weren't likely to let them get involved in pornography. Shay was pretty certain that the person who took the pictures had to be someone who lived with people who wouldn't approve if they found out what the photographer was taking pornographic pictures.

Shay agreed with the police over the last piece of evidence: it had to have been a man who hit Mr. Fletcher because of the strength needed to hit anyone that hard, and because the person must have been taller than Mr. Fletcher in order to hit him so squarely on the back of his head. The information all made sense to Shay.

The girls could hardly wait until Friday night arrived and they could get back together to talk at Grace's house. When the day finally rolled around, Shay and Larissa quickly did their share of the after dinner clean up chores and then almost ran out the door to begin the ten minute walk along the dark road that would take them to the Norton's. The two girls laughed and chatted as they walked along, the excitement of their detective work giving them a renewed sense of energy that quickened their steps.

Just as they arrived at the Norton's, Grace's brother, Charles, drove up in the family pick up truck.

"Hi Charles," Larissa said cheerfully. "We're here to hang out with Grace tonight."

"Good for you," Charles replied, without looking at them. He bounded up the front steps past Shay, opened the door and disappeared into the house without saying another word.

"Well, I see my talkative and polite brother has been at it again" Grace said as she beckoned the girls to come into the house. "He's such a jerk, and I don't care what mom says, it isn't just a phase, that's how he's always going to be."

"Oh, I think he's kind of cute," Larissa gushed. "But don't you dare tell him I said that!"

"You can be sure I won't tell him that anyone thinks he's good looking," Grace replied sourly. "He's conceited enough as it is."

Shay laughed as she took off her jacket and hung it on the hallway coat hanger. "Hey Larissa, you didn't mention him before when we were talking about droollie guys" she said.

"This conversation has to stop before I get sick," Grace said as she took Larissa's coat and hung it up. "Come on, let's get upstairs to my room."

The girls followed Grace up to her bedroom and as Shay positioned herself on the softly carpeted floor, Larissa started swooping around the room like a hummingbird searching for insects in a flower garden. Larissa peered at this and that, poking a doll, lifting a book, and looking into the closet.

"I just love your room," Larissa effused when she finally finished looking at everything and sat with a plump on the cozy chaise in the corner. "It's so pretty. I wish I had a bedroom just like this."

"Thanks," Grace said. "I'm going to help my mom paint it this summer so I'm not stuck with baby pink anymore. My mom is just obsessed with keeping me in pink. I'm not kidding, the older I get, the pinker she wants me. I thought an apple green would be good but my mom wants a baby blue...as if that's some improvement!"

Shay looked discreetly around the room, trying not to let her envy show. Grace's bedroom was larger and much better furnished than Shay and Larissa's shared room. This bedroom had pictures on the walls from magazines as well as photographs of family vacations and pictures of friends. Her favourite dolls and stuffed animals saved from childhood were lovingly arranged along a high shelf that ran the length of one wall. The room reflected Grace's happy life and it had the look of someone who had claimed it, who knew she belonged in this place. The empty place in Shay's heart always shivered when she stepped into Grace's bedroom; it was such a contrast to her own series of bedrooms, which were nothing more than impersonal, temporary sleeping places until she was moved on again. Shay suddenly realized that it wasn't the room she envied; it was all the love and belonging it represented.

Shay took control of her thoughts and moved to sit beside Grace on the floor. Both girls leaned their backs against the soft, comforter covered bed while Shay told the other girls her theories.

"Wow," Grace said, "you really thought this out. I'm impressed!"

"Yeah, she's been thinking all week," Larissa jumped in. "Every time I tried to talk to her she told me to shut up because she was thinking. I didn't know people could think that much!"

"It doesn't matter how much I've been thinking, there's still always the possibility that I'm wrong about the first point," Shay said. "If I am, and it's just some local weirdo taking dirty pictures, then it's none of our business and we're sunk. But I have a hunch that it's all connected to the attack, and since we have nothing else to chase down, we'll follow up on this. Agreed?"

"Agreed, indeed," Grace replied cheerfully.

Larissa nodded her head vigorously. "Agreed," she said.

"You know, I've been thinking, too," said Grace. "How come Mr. Fletcher didn't see their car when he drove up?"

"How do you know he didn't?" Shay asked.

"He hasn't said anything about it," Grace replied. "He said that he was just going about his chores when he got hit from behind."

"Maybe he doesn't remember seeing anything, or maybe no one was parked there. Or maybe they walked to the barn from someplace else," Shay said thoughtfully. "But that's not something you'd think people would do this time of year. Ginger lives here in Proctor, but her house is at the other end, near the far beach. They couldn't have walked that far, not in winter. Where does that lady live? And what about Sharon?" she asked Shay.

"The lady lives across the lake at Balfour," answered Grace. "I've seen her lots of times at the Balfour grocery store. Sharon lives in Nelson."

"So, Sharon and Ginger, and the woman who was in the picture and the man who hit Mr. Fletcher, all had to get to the barn without anyone noticing. There aren't many occupied houses around there this time of year, but people driving by the farm from the ferry should have seen something. How could they get there without being seen?" Shay asked the other two.

"That couldn't happen. I bet someone noticed but they didn't think anything of it," Grace said. "The parents of the other regulars drop their kids off all the time so everyone is used to lots of different people and cars driving onto the farm. Lots of college kids and older high-schoolers have their own cars that they park at the side of the barn when they come to ride. The police wouldn't even know who to ask about. Lots of people in town have families or friends in Proctor so they could easily have come and gone on the ferry with no one thinking it was weird. Besides, the ferry operator can't possible notice everyone who drove on or off during the day."

"What if they didn't have a car for anyone to notice in the first place? What if they came over in their own boat?" Larissa interjected. "Do any of them have a boat? What about the lady from Balfour? Everybody there has some kind of boat."

"That's brilliant! I hadn't even thought of a boat," Shay exclaimed. "If the four of them came over by boat, then no one would notice. There wouldn't have been any car or truck in front of the barn and Mr. Fletcher wouldn't have had any reason to think that someone was in his barn. We have to follow up on this somehow, but how?"

"Well, it's obvious what we have to do first,"` said Grace. "We have to find out the woman's name. That shouldn't be too hard. I sure know what she looks like," Grace giggled. "My parents know everyone out here so I can come up with some excuse to ask my mom who she is. Second," Grace went on without pausing, "I go to the Balfour store and look up who has fishing licenses. I can say I'm looking to see if my brother has one because I know he's been winter fishing. Nobody will think it's too weird that I'm trying to get my brother in trouble."

"Why would you look up fishing licenses?" Shay asked, looking puzzled.

"Because if this lady or her husband has a fishing license, then you can bet they've got a boat."

Shay and Larissa stared at Grace, amazed at how quickly her mind was working. "How did you come up with all of that so fast?" Larissa asked.

"I've been thinking all week, too; besides, I have a logical brain," Grace answered quickly. "It's why I know I'll be a good doctor. I can always figure out what to do."

"Wow," Shay said, "how come I never knew that about you before? I thought you were just good at math."

"I've never had to figure out anything before that wasn't school work, unless you count convincing my mother to buy me clothes that don't make me look like I'm in kindergarten," said Grace with a smile. "I actually like this detective stuff. It's really getting exciting."

"Yeah, it is kind of fun and it sure makes life less boring," Shay said. "But sometimes I feel really guilty that I'm having such a good time just because Mr. Fletcher got hurt."

Grace nodded her head slowly in agreement.

"I've been thinking," Shay hesitated and then continued. "Should we call the police? I mean, you can bet they'll do something about the case now that there are teens involved in something this awful."

"You're right," Grace said. "We should turn the camera over to the police and let them handle it. We've done what we started to do, we found out what was going on, and we know they'll take some action about stuff that's this serious."

"Oh no," said Larissa. "They'll tell the social workers and the parents will be told, and then Ginger and Sharon will be in trouble, and the adults will be in trouble too. But they still might not find out who attacked Mr. Fletcher, so we'd be no better off now than we were before. Everyone would know everything and we'd still lose the horses. Shay, you know I'm right."

Shay nodded, and then said, "You're right, we can't trust the police to solve the whole case. We can only be sure they'll stop them from taking any more pictures at the barn, but they could go somewhere else. But there is a worse problem. I mean, as long as we don't report this then Sharon and Ginger might still be doing things they shouldn't be doing and that needs to stop. We can't just let that stuff go on."

"Well," said Larissa, "who cares about Sharon and Ginger? It was their choice to do whatever it is they're doing, so why should we have to worry about them now?"

"We have to worry about them because their parents are drunks and you know that means: no one takes care of them and no one protects them," Shay said angrily. "They're like us. They're alone in the world, and kids like us have to take care of each other. You know that."

"Yeah, I know that," Larissa said slowly. "I'm sorry, I just didn't think it through."

Grace looked at the two girls but said nothing for a moment. The silence was becoming awkward and finally Grace said, "Okay, that means we stop the pictures, but we do it without going to the police."

"How do we do that?" Shay asked.

"We could send an anonymous note to Ginger and Sharon saying that people know about the pictures and they had better stop now or the police will be notified." Grace said.

"That would stop someone like you or me," Shay said, "because we don't break rules. But I'm not sure it would stop those two. They don't care how much trouble they get into."

"No, but they do care about not getting caught, or they would have been photographed in some nice warm room instead of posing naked in a freezing cold barn. And, of course, then no one would have hit Mr. Fletcher on the head."

"That's true. We don't want them to know it's us though, so how about we write a note and poke it through the vent holes in their lockers at school?" Shay said. "We can say we know what they are doing and they had better stop or the police will be called right away."

"That sounds good," Grace said. "My locker is just down the hall from the grade 12's, so I can do it easily. Agreed?"

"Agreed," Shay said.

"Agreed," Larissa chimed in.

"Well, there's nothing more we can do tonight. Do you want to watch a DVD? I've got some Johnny Depp movies and we can make some popcorn. Oh, I think Charles is in the TV room, but if we all go in, he'll leave fast enough," Grace giggled.

"I hope he stays," Larissa said. "He really is kind of cute."

"Oh, that is so gross," Grace made a sour face. "Can't you see how ugly he is? And he's got no personality at all. He's even got giant ears like my Uncle Arnold and he's... he's... well, he's just a total geek!"

Shay smiled but kept silent. She secretly hoped that Charles would stay, too. "I don't know, Grace, those Uncle ears aren't as bad as you think they are," she grinned.

Two days later, Shay was once again on the phone with Grace. She listened intently as Grace informed her of all she had found out. Mentally crossing her fingers, Grace had told her mother that when she was at the Balfour store she heard the lady with the weird blonde hair gossiping with the cashier about Mr. Fletcher. Her mother had known who it was right away. The woman, named Barbara Gillies, did indeed have a large boat, which she often drove while under the influence of alcohol during hot summer days on the lake. Mrs. Norton told Grace that Barbara Gillies had worked for twenty years as a server at the local resort in Balfour, and she was a single parent with three teenage sons from some early relationships. The boys had a bad reputation and Charles wasn't allowed to go near them. Barbara Gillies also had two little daughters who, as far as Mrs. Norton was concerned, were destined to grow up to be as wild as their brothers.

"Well," said Shay, "now we know why she can't risk taking the pictures in her own home. She didn't want to get caught by her kids." Shay spoke quietly into the telephone so that Jolene couldn't overhear her conversation with Grace. For the thousandth time, Shay wished she could use instant messaging like the other kids at school, but the Halliwells didn't let the foster kids use their computer and there was no money for Shay to buy a computer or a cell phone. She was stuck with the house telephone and its lack of privacy. "Did your mom tell you anything else?" Shay asked.

"You know how my mom is--once she starts talking, she doesn't stop," Grace said. "Mom went to school with Barbara Gillies when they were kids, and she said the lady turned wild in the 1980's and never grew up or sobered up. Barbara's never been married but she always has a boyfriend hanging around, although mom doesn't think she's with anyone serious now. She hasn't lived with any guys since her youngest child was born."

"How did you get all that information from your mother? Didn't she suspect something when you kept asking questions?" Shay asked.

"My mom isn't exactly in a good position to talk about other people being nosey. She always knows what's going on with the whole community and half the Kootenays. I only had to ask her one question and the rest just poured out. I thought she'd never stop," Grace giggled. "God, I hope I don't turn out like her!"

"What do you mean? What's wrong with your mother?" Shay wanted to know.

"You know what I mean. I don't want to live my whole life in the same place and end up knowing every single person I see on the street and knowing what they did as kids and what they do as adults. I want to see new faces all the time and have new things to discover and think about. I want something exciting in my life, and I want my life to mean something," Grace answered.

Silent grief grabbed hold of Shay, but she quickly shut it off. She wouldn't tell Grace how lucky she was to have a mom whose worst fault was that she gossiped during their weekly shopping trips to town. Nor would she tell Grace how lucky she was to be rooted in one spot, to know people in the community, to have a history that she shared with others and to know people who could remember what she looked like as a child.

"Yeah, I guess no one wants to be like their mom," was all Shay could reply.

"That's for sure," Grace said, oblivious to Shay's sadness. "So, what's our next step?"

"I don't know," Shay said thoughtfully, shifting her mood as fast as she could. "Did you leave the notes in Ginger and Sharon's lockers?"

"Yup, and I saw Ginger find hers. She read it and then kind of looked around the hall. I think she was pretty spooked by it. She sure didn't notice me. You know how it is, the grade 12's never notice the grade 9's. I might as well have been part of the wall."

"Did she look surprised?" Shay asked.

"Oh yeah." Grace gave a wide eyed nod. "She looked totally freaked out. She shoved the note into her purse and ran down the hall. She was probably looking for Sharon."

"I bet she was," Shay replied. "That must have really shaken her up. I feel kind of mean doing that to her, but at least she and Sharon will stop posing for pictures after they read the note, so they're as protected as we can get them for now. I still need to think of what we should do next."

Shay had never really thought they would get any further with their investigation, yet somehow the three girls kept coming up with one piece of information after another, until they had actually figured out the motive for the assault and the identities of most of the people involved. But the next step in their detective work eluded Shay. "I'll have to think about it and call you back later. Let me know if you get any good ideas."

"Okay," Grace said. "Hey, Shay, do you want to go to a movie tonight in Nelson? My parents are going to dinner with some friends so they'll give us a ride to and from town, and we'll have some time to hang out for a while after the movie, too. Maybe even go to the Club."

The Club was an evening nightspot for younger teens. It had been set up by several of the local church youth groups so that teens would have a safe and supervised place to meet on weekend nights. It had a 'no alcohol or drug' policy that was strongly enforced, so even the strictest parents usually let their kids attend.

"You know how my parents are, they won't usually let me hang out anywhere in town," Grace said, "but if it's only for a while and they're picking us up, they might let me go. They let Charles go to the Club when he was my age, so it would be pretty sexist of them to not let me go, too."

"I didn't know you were the Club type." Shay was surprised at her friend's sudden decision to branch out socially.

"I know, but lately I've been getting bored with my life," Grace answered. "This detective stuff has been kind of exciting and I think I like that. My whole life, I've always known what I'm going to do and when I'm going to do it, and everybody here knows everything there is to know about me. I don't think I've ever had a secret before. It's time for a change, don't you think?"

Shay hesitated only a moment. "Well, I've had enough excitement and change in my life. I sure don't need any more, but it might be kind of fun to at least see what the Club is like. I'll ask Jolene. I think she'll say yes as long as your parents are taking us." Shay didn't want to admit it, but she was beginning to want more in her life than school and saving the horses. "What will we wear? I don't have anything to wear to the Club!"

Thoughts of poor Mr. Fletcher and the mystery were quickly back-burnered, as the girls planned their first evening on the town.

Chapter Eight

A Mystery Man

Larissa wasn't happy when she found out that she had to stay home while Shay and Grace got to go to town, but Jolene had been firm that no twelve year old in her care was going to town on a Friday night. Shay was secretly pleased that the twelve year old wouldn't be hanging around on her first real night out. Shay liked Larissa a lot, but the two year age difference couldn't be ignored in all situations, and going to town at night with a friend was one of those. Larissa was determined to be as much a part of this new excitement as she could, so hung around while Shay and Grace tried on clothes and make up and did each other's hair a dozen different ways before they were satisfied with how they looked.

"You promise you'll tell me everything the minute you get home, right?" Larissa pleaded with Shay. "I don't want you guys to start leaving me out of things."

"I don't think there will be much to tell, Larissa. We're only going to a movie and maybe half an hour at the Club." Shay tried to downplay her own excitement at the evening that lay ahead and added, "I'll tell you all about it, I promise."

Shay was surprised to find herself enjoying the drive into town with Grace's parents. She wasn't really used to parents who didn't swear and who included their kids in the conversations. Dave and Jolene never swore, but Shay knew that foster parents had to behave better than regular parents because taking care of kids was a job they were paid to do. It wasn't like having real parents, like the Norton's, who seemed to really care about their kids. Shay liked the easy way the Norton's talked to her and Grace, and the way they managed to find so much to laugh about with each other. She was almost sorry to leave them when they dropped the two girls off at the movie theatre. Shay and Grace waved good bye and then went straight into the building, hoping to see more kids their own age at the theatre. They spotted some other teens they knew from school in the ticket line, and at Grace's instigation they joined the teens and all went into the movie together. Shay sat in the darkened theatre, slowly eating her buttered popcorn, lost in her thoughts. Right now, at this moment, Shay just couldn't believe how great her life was going. The fear that it would all slip away was still there, but trying to find out who hurt Mr. Fletcher had diverted her from the worry, and had helped her to focus on the positive things that were happening in her life. Things like this movie, and knowing that other teens liked her, and the luxurious feeling that she was safe.

When the movie ended the whole group headed over to the Club, trying not to slip on the icy sidewalk while they giggled and shoved each other along. Shay and Grace were only going to have an hour before Grace's parents picked them up and the two girls wanted to make the most of it. The Club was located about three blocks from the movie theatre, closer to the lake and nearer to the old railroad station.

"This is great," Grace said as they passed one of the youth pastors who did the security check at the door. Shay had to strain to hear Grace over the music and the loud rumble of voices and she soon lost sight of the other girls they had walked over with.

"Where will we sit? Do you know anyone? Do I look okay?" The questions tumbled out of Grace as she looked eagerly around the slightly darkened room.

Shay noticed that there were tables and chairs placed in two rings around the middle of the building. This created an inner circle which served as a dance floor, and the teens who weren't dancing roamed from table to table, laughing and talking with each other. Above her head, an old style disco ball glittered and shone on the dancers below. From somewhere else on the ceiling, coloured strobe lights filled the room with rotating shades of red, blue, and green. Shay couldn't tell where the music was coming from, but it was loud and it made it her feel happy and bouncy just listening to it.

"Hey," Grace said, nudging Shay in the side with her elbow. "I asked you a bunch of questions. How do I look?"

"Sorry. You look fine and this place is really great!" Shay replied. Grace was wearing the lowest cut jeans she could get her mother to buy and she had pulled them down even further after they left the movie theatre. Shay knew she couldn't dress as well as Grace, not with the small clothing allowance that foster kids were given. But she had to give her foster mother credit, because Jolene was a real bargain hunter and had managed to get Shay a good pair of jeans at the after Christmas sales so she wouldn't be totally embarrassed by her small wardrobe. Shay swallowed her feelings of insecurity and tried to look confident.

"Oh look, there's Terrah Anne and the rest of her group!" Grace waved at the girls they had watched the movie with. Several girls smiled and waved back, signalling for Grace and Shay to come over and sit with them. The two girls made their way across the large room, manoeuvring around the teens who were dancing. Shay expected to be mostly ignored by the group, but to her surprise, the others made room for her and happily talked with her as if they had known her forever. It was because she was with Grace, Shay knew, but that was okay. It felt great to be included with a group of teens. To Shay's surprise, she soon found that guys were asking her to dance and were grabbing her hand and pulling her the dance floor.

Shay loved every second of it. She had expected to feel awkward dancing in front of people instead of her mirror at home, but she found that the dance floor was so crowded she could barely move, except to shake up and down and jump around, and so she felt safe and free to enjoy herself. Shay even had fleeting moments where she almost glowed with the sense of belonging, however temporarily, to a group of normal kids.

All too soon, an hour was up and Grace was pulling at Shay's arm to get her attention. "We have to leave now, my parents will be here soon and I don't want them to come in to get us. Wouldn't that be just about the most horrible thing you can possibly imagine? I would absolutely have to die on the spot if they did that!"

Shay laughed at the dramatic statement, but a part of her agreed, so she grabbed her coat and shouted good bye to everyone. Someone shouted back that they would see her Monday, and one of the guys, Braden Wilcox, said something about hanging out with her at lunch next week. Before she could answer, Grace tugged her toward the door. Shay was thankful; she had a great time flirting, but she wasn't ready for a boyfriend.

Grace pushed the door open and the winter chill hit them both full in the face. Their sweat covered bodies shivered as their inner temperatures slowly adjusted to the weather outside. Shay pulled her scarf around her neck and reached into her pocket for her thick gloves. As she pulled them on, she looked around to see who else was outside the building. When they arrived at the Club, Shay noticed that some of the teens braved the winter night to stand outside and smoke, while others stood around waiting to get picked up by parents or someone else.

As she glanced around the large parking lot, Shay thought she noticed a familiar face. "Hey," Shay nudged Grace. "Look over there." She pointed toward the far end of the parking lot where two figures stood talking near a street light. "Isn't that Ginger?"

Grace, about three inches shorter than Shay, stood on her tip toes so that she could see over the frost covered hoods of the cars. "Yup, it is. Who's she talking to?"

"I don't know. Some man--kind of hard to tell with his snow gear--but he must be an adult," Shay replied.

"How can you tell from here that he's an adult and a guy?"

"You're supposed to be the budding medical student, you should at least be able to tell the difference between men and women," Shay giggled, and then got more serious. "It's just the way he's standing somehow, and he's not dressed like any teens that I've ever seen. That coat is way out of style, and so is his hat. Nobody would dress like that except an adult, and I don't think most adults would want to be seen in clothes like that."

"Yeah, he's got his hat flaps pulled down over his ears and no teen would do that, either. You're right, he must be an adult. Do you think it's the picture guy?" Grace asked excitedly. Just then, Grace's parents drove up in their SUV and stopped right in front of the girls, blocking their view of Ginger and the mystery man. Grace pulled open the back door and the two girls scrambled into the second row of seats.

"How was your evening, girls?" Grace's father asked as he drove slowly out of the parking lot, careful not to let the car slide onto the icy parts of the paved parking lot.

"It was great, dad," Grace replied.

"We had a lot of fun. Thanks for driving me," Shay added.

"Oh, not a problem, dear," Grace's mother said. "By the way, what were you two girls looking at so intently when we pulled up?"

"Nothing in particular," Grace answered, "we were just watching a couple of the kids we know. I guess we were just being nosey."

"Well, you shouldn't be too nosey," Mrs. Norton said, "it isn't polite. I'm glad you had a good time. You were both very responsible with the time limits this evening, so maybe the next time we come to town for dinner on a weekend, you can go to the teen Club again. I guess you're at an age where you're going to want to go out more. After all, you are growing up."

A broad smile filled Grace's face. "You witnessed that, right Shay? My mother acknowledged that I, Grace Norton, am growing up! Did you hear that too, dad? You have to stand by what you just said, mom, no going back. I have witnesses!"

Mr. Norton laughed and Shay broke out in a fit of giggles.

"My goodness Shay," Mrs. Norton said smiling, "I don't often hear you laugh like that. You should do it more often. You have a very pretty laugh, my dear."

And suddenly, Shay knew that was true. She knew that she had a pretty laugh, and a pretty face, and even some friends, and right now, she was having a pretty good life.

Chapter Nine

Following Suspicions

The next day seemed as if it would last forever. Grace called earlier to say she was going out of town with her parents to a family wedding and she wouldn't be back until tomorrow. Without Grace to hang out with, or the horses to ride and care for, there was nothing for Shay or Larissa to do except watch the boring DVD's that the Halliwells allowed and to re-clean their already clean bedroom. Larissa, always eager to be around food, helped Jolene bake a pie for dessert and then make some cookies for lunches the following week. Shay declined Jolene's offer to get involved in the baking. She was depressed and moody, and baking with her foster mother seemed too much like playing at being a real mother and daughter. The last thing Shay wanted to do in this mood was pretend to be a part of something that would never happen.

Worse yet, she had too much time to think, and she began to realize that the Girls Detective Club was never going to solve this or any other mystery. She knew that the three girls had gone as far with this as they could. Something had to be done about the pictures and it had to be done soon.

The weekend dragged on but Monday finally arrived and Shay was glad to be back at school. She kept an eye out for Ginger and Sharon but she only saw them in the halls between classes a few times and nothing seemed amiss with either of them. It was hard for Shay not stare at the older teens, but she did her best to look nonchalant each time they passed. It was a good day though; lots of kids that she had talked to at the movie and the Club said hi to her, and although she was relieved that Braden didn't try to sit with her at lunch, she was still secretly pleased when he said hi and smiled at her in math class and again in socials.

Finally, the day ended and Grace and Shay almost ran to the school bus, both wanting to talk about what to do next.

"We've got to get together and decide what to do about the camera," Grace said quietly to Shay as they sat in the seats at the back row of the bus. Larissa bounced into the seat in front of them just as the bus pulled away from the curb. The bus jolted as the driver clumsily shifted gears and Larissa grabbed at the back of the seat to get her balance.

"So what are you guys talking about? Are we going to have a meeting again?" Larissa asked as she righted herself on the seat.

"Shhh," Shay said. "Yes, we are, but you don't have to announce it. Ginger's on this bus too, if you remember."

Larissa turned around to look. Ginger sat near the middle of the bus, an iPod plugged into her ears and her head bobbing back and forth to some music.

"She almost never rides the bus. I'm sure she goes to town after school and then rides home with her mom when she gets off work," Grace said.

"Yeah, this is weird," Shay said. "Well, we can't exactly ask her why she's on the bus. And we can't keep whispering either or everyone will start looking at us."

"Oh right, we can't look suspicious," Larissa said a little too loud and then turned around to face the front. A moment later, she turned back again and said "If you guys decide to have a meeting, let me know, okay?"

Shay gave her the thumbs up and waited till Larissa turned back to the front. "We have to come up with a plan, you know," she said to Grace, keeping her voice as low as she could without whispering. "We can't keep this camera forever and we can't keep quiet about Ginger and Sharon any longer. Someone has to know about what's going on and deal with it, even if it wrecks our investigation."

"I know," Grace said. "I kept thinking that something would happen and we'd have the next step, but it's been too long. We're getting nowhere."

"We're going to be the one's in trouble now, for sure," Shay said. "We've known about a really bad thing and we kept it a secret. My social worker will flip out, and the Halliwells are never going to trust me again." Shay knew only too well that once trust was lost, it was gone for good.

"Well, they might be mad at you for a while, but they're nice people. They aren't going to do anything awful to you," Grace said.

"No, they won't beat me or anything, but they won't ever trust me again, and they might have me moved to a new foster home," Shay said dejectedly. "Or even if they don't ask to have me moved my social worker might do it anyway."

"Why would they move you to another place?" Grace was alarmed.

"Because that's what happens to foster kids. If you do anything people don't like, they just move you to some other foster home," Shay answered.

"I don't understand...why would they move you just because we kept the camera for a few days?" Grace asked

"That's only one reason, Grace. The other reason would be because we went back to the barn when we weren't supposed to, so they'll know they can't trust me and that I lied to them," Shay sighed. "I knew all this could happen. It just seemed more important at the time to save the horses. I guess I was destined to lose everything no matter what," Shay said.

"What about Larissa?" Grace whispered as quietly as she could, so that Larissa couldn't hear her. "What will happen to her? Will they move her to another foster home too?"

"They might keep Larissa because she's still young and they'll know she was just doing what we said. But I'll be gone, that's for sure," Shay turned her head towards the window and bit her lip to keep the tears from falling.

"Well, we can't let that happen. I don't want to lose my best friend! We have to get the camera to the police without anyone knowing we had it," Grace said with determination. "I know what we can do. We can mail it to them."

That was such a simple solution. Shay couldn't believe she hadn't thought of it herself. "Okay," she nodded, almost too relieved to talk. After a minute she found her voice and said, "But what do we do about solving the mystery? This doesn't help us find the person who hurt Mr. Fletcher, and that means Fletcher will still sell the horses."

"I know," Grace said. "I think about this all the time, but I can't come up with anyway to solve this case. So much for my brilliant and logical mind," she sighed

"Well, I guess at least we'll know we did the right thing for Ginger and Sharon--not that they'd ever appreciate it if they knew," Shay said. I can live with losing the horses, Shay thought. I know how to lose everything that matters to me.

The girls sat back, both of them in a funk, both silent in their thoughts. Shay looked out the window at the deep, green lake as the bus rolled along the highway towards the Proctor ferry. She loved the way the lake changed from a deep summer blue to a dark, rich green colour in the winter months. It almost looked like velvet ribbon that was caught at the bottom of the two mountain ranges and it gave her a sense of peace and stability, even when the storms came and the winds sent the waves the pounding onto the beach. It was still the same lake, no matter what home or town she lived in. It's the only thing in my life that changes without hurting me, Shay thought.

The bus driver drove the long vehicle onto the small ferry and some of the kids, including Shay, Grace and Larissa got out of the bus. Shay and Grace and Larissa went to the railing and Shay looked again into the deep green of the water that churned up from the ferry's propellers.

"Hey," Larissa said suddenly. "Look at Ginger."

The other two glanced casually over at the older teen, trying not to be conspicuous.

"She's got her books and her backpack," Grace said loudly, forgetting her attempt to be discreet. "She's going to get off the ferry at the landing!"

"Why would she do that?" Larissa almost shouted.

"Shhhh," Shay said to both of them. "She isn't walking home from here. It's too far to her house. Do you think she's going back to the barn?"

"That's exactly what I think," Grace said, nodding her head vigorously. "But why would she risk it when she knows that someone knows about the photo sessions?"

"Maybe she's going to look to see if she left anything in the barn," Shay said. "Maybe she's looking for the camera. The man who took the pictures is probably the same guy who hit Mr. Fletcher, and he's probably pretty scared by now."

"What are we going to do about this?" Larissa asked.

The ferry was almost at the landing and the kids started to get back on the bus. Shay, Grace and Larissa scrambled on and went to their seats, all the while craning their necks to see what direction Ginger took after she walked off the ferry.

"Look," Shay said excitedly to the others, "she's taking my route to the barn. That path only leads to Fletcher's place in the winter, so that's for sure where she's going."

"What are we going to do now?" Grace asked.

"I don't know, I have to think," Shay answered. "We can't get off the bus. Jolene and your parents would be looking for us right away if we didn't get home on time and they'd go straight to the barn and I don't know now we'd explain what we were doing there, especially if there's a bunch of other people there as well," she said to Grace. "And I can't say I have to go to your house for homework because she won't let me do that unless Dave drives me because Jolene thinks it's too cold out this time of year for us to be outside much at all," Shay let out a grunt of frustration. Why do I finally have to live with people who take care of me just when I actually need some freedom?

"Well, as always with this mystery, we're out of luck," Grace said. "We just have to go with our plan to mail the camera and forget about it all."

They had arrived at the end of the Halliwell's road and the driver pulled the bus over to the stop and set the flashers going. Shay and Larissa got off the bus and started walking slowly up the long driveway. The frozen snow made a crunching sound under their feet and filled in the quiet.

"Did you and Grace decide to give up?" Larissa said finally, breaking the heavy silence.

"Yup," Shay answered, "there isn't any choice. We can't think of anything else to do, so we're going to mail the camera to the police and hope for the best."

"Well, I don't agree with this decision at all. I thought we were going to solve the mystery and save the horses," Larissa said. "This isn't fair. The horses will get sold and we'll be the losers again, just like always."

"I know," Shay began, and then held up her hand and stopped Larissa in her tracks. "Look at the house," she said. "There aren't any lights!" The girls had been so intent on their conversation that they only just noticed that the house, usually well lit to welcome them home and shine their way into the warmth of the kitchen, was dark.

"Oh," exclaimed Larissa, "you're right. What's going on? Something must be wrong! Jolene's always there with the lights on for us."

"I'll go first, you follow close behind me," Shay said as they kicked off their boots in the enclosed porch. Shay slowly entered the large kitchen, usually full of the smells of dinner and baking, but now quiet and still. Shay flipped the light switch and immediately saw the note on the kitchen table.

"What does it say?" asked Larissa, trying to read over Shay's shoulder.

Shay picked it up and read,

Shay and Larissa –

Dave was hurt at work and is at the hospital. He broke his wrist and has to have a cast put on. I will drive him home later tonight. Don't worry - he will be okay. Take a pizza from the freezer and microwave it for supper. Make sure you have some milk and fruit and get a couple of cupcakes out of the freezer for your dessert. If you have an emergency call Mrs. Norton. Don't go out in the cold.

Love, Jolene

"Wow, that's really awful!" Shay said.

"Do you think he's hurt very badly?" Larissa asked, her voice quivering.

"It can't be all that bad if he's coming home tonight," Shay answered. "And Jolene said in the note that he's okay. A broken wrist isn't good, but it isn't the worst that can happen in a mill accident, that's for sure." Shay looked over at Larissa and saw tears in the younger girl's eyes. She reached out and hugged Larissa. "He'll be okay, Larissa."

"I know, it's just that I really like Dave and Jolene and I don't like to think of them getting hurt," she snuffled. "Besides, we'd have to move if he was badly hurt, and I don't want that either!"

Shay gave a last squeeze of Larissa's shoulders and then walked over to the box of tissues on the counter by the phone. "Here, catch," she said as she tossed the box playfully at Larissa.

Larissa stood still as the box flew past her and dropped just behind her feet. "Hey," she said, "you know what this means?"

"Yeah, it means that you can't catch," Shay grinned and went to the freezer to get the pizza for dinner.

"No, it means that we're alone and no one will know if we go to Fletcher's barn to see what Ginger's doing!" Larissa said excitedly.

"You're right!" Shay exclaimed, shutting the freezer and putting the frozen pizza on the table. "Except I'm going to the barn alone and you're staying here."

"No I'm not," Larissa said hotly. "I'm part of the Detectives Club and I'm coming with you."

"You're part of the Detectives Club, but you're not coming with me. It's too cold for you to be outside," Shay said softly. "I really like you, Larissa, you're a good kid. If I had a real sister, I'd want her to be just like you."

"You would?" Larissa responded with wide eyes. "You really like me?"

"Yup, I do," Shay said, "and that means that I want to make sure you're safe. It's cold out there and it's dark and you're only twelve. So, you stay here and have dinner and I'll be back before you know it. I'll for sure be back before Jolene and Dave come home from the hospital so I don't get caught. "

"Promise me you're just going to see what Ginger's doing and come back," Larissa said anxiously. "Nothing else!"

"That's all I'm going to do. I'll run down to the barn, see if she's still there, and what's going on. Then I'll be right back, I promise," Shay said. "Save me some pizza," she called as she quickly put on her coat and boots and grabbed a small flashlight from the shelf.
Chapter Ten

Caught

Shay walked as quickly as she could along the slippery, snowy railroad tracks and onto the treed path that would take her to the back of Mr. Fletcher's barn. She regretted not taking the time to get a bigger flashlight; the path was only barely visible and she had to be careful to find a safe footfall on the snow and ice covered ground. Shay didn't want to sprain her ankle. It would take forever for anyone to find her and she didn't even want to think about how much trouble she would be in if she was caught going to Fletcher's barn. Still, Shay knew this was her last chance to do something that might save the horses and she wasn't about to let this opportunity go by. Shay felt as everything in her life happened because somebody else made a decision about her. At least now she was making her own decisions and taking control of her life, even if it didn't work out the way she wanted.

Shay trudged along the path, wrapping her woollen scarf around her face as she pulled her thick collar as far up her cheeks as it would go. The late day was still and settling in colder than she had expected, which could only mean that a snowstorm was imminent. Shay shivered at thought of being caught outdoors in a snow fall; it would make it very hard to get home if there was a strong wind. The line of trees along the beach thinned and Shay came out into the open pasture on the far side of the barn. Through the dark she could just make out the silhouette of the barn and she headed toward the back side of it, hoping to sneak around and see if Ginger was still there. Shay walked slowly and carefully across the field, around the shrubs, and finally she reached the back of the barn. She could hear the movement of the few horses that were still outside in the front pasture, but there was another noise, and slight shreds of light filtered out through the old barn wall.

Shay crept along the side of the barn and came around the corner to the front of it. There were only two horses outside. The rest of the small herd, having sensed the oncoming snow storm, had retreated to the relative warmth of the barn. As Shay neared the barn door, she noticed that there was a car parked a few feet away. It looked old and battered and she thought she saw a crack across the front of the windshield. She knew she had seen the car around Proctor but she couldn't recall who owned it.

She shut off her flashlight and with her back flat against the barn wall, Shay moved closer to the open barn doors. She chose her steps carefully, trying to prevent the crunching noise her boots made in the hard crusted snow. Shay could hear the voices better from this position. A man was yelling at someone and she could hear loud crying, too. The large barn door was only open part way, and Shay, wanting to get a look inside, crept to the inside of the door, hoping the dark outside and the dim light inside would not show her form as she moved slowly into the barn itself.

As far as Shay could tell, the voices were coming from the back of the barn, likely near the ladder to the loft. If she could get into the barn without being seen, she could hide in the shadows of the machinery at the front and from there she would be able hear and see whatever was going on. Shay suddenly heard something that sounded like a boat motor cutting through the frigid air. The motor slowed to a stop amid the sound of lapping waves hitting the shore, and then a moment of silence, followed by a heavy thud and then the crunch of heavy feet stomping through the snow. She realized that a boat had landed on the beach and the driver was walking toward the barn. There was no time to think, Shay ran as lightly as she could to the machinery and slid down behind the big front tire of an old tractor. She knew the tractor didn't fully conceal her, but as long as no one was looking in her direction, she could remain hidden in the shadows until they left.

A figure appeared in the doorway and the overhead lights went on. Fear made Shay's heart beat so fast she thought it might pop out of her chest. She focused on her breathing, trying to calm her intake of air so that the no one would hear her.

"Hey," she heard the man shout. "Kill the lights! We can see well enough with my flashlight."

"What are you worried about?" a woman's voice replied. "We're too far from the main road to be seen and there weren't any other boats on the lake when I came over. Even if anyone did notice a light, they'd assume you're just here to feed the horses."

Shay's mouth dropped open in surprise. The man must be Tom Jacobs. No wonder he had offered to help with the horses.

Tom Jacobs walked to the front of the barn with Ginger trailing a few steps behind him. Shay couldn't see them very well though the machinery, but she recognized Tom Jacobs as the man who was talking to Ginger outside of the Club. He had the same weird hat with the pulled down ear pieces. And, from the blond hair sticking out beneath the toque on the woman, Shay thought it must be Barbara Gillies, the woman in the pictures.

"How come you're so late?" Tom asked. "We were supposed to meet here at four."

"Yeah, well, I had to wait for one of my older boys to get home to take care of the girls. I can't just leave them on their own, you know," Barbara said.

"Right, after all, you are the Mother of the Year," Tom said sarcastically. "Well, we've been here a while and we've already searched the loft. I can tell you there's nothing up there. Whatever they found, they took it all."

"Well how are we going to find out who has the camera?" Ginger was talking, and she was still crying slightly. "If my dad finds out about this, I'll be dead for sure."

"Your old man's a drunk who doesn't give a damn about what you do," Tom said, cruelly.

"I know, but he's a drunk with a fist, and it'll be on me for this," Ginger was crying even harder now. "How could you have dropped the camera? How could you get us into this mess?"

"Look kid, I didn't force you to do this. And don't blame me for dropping the camera. That was Barbara's doing," Tom was mad and almost shouting.

"Don't blame me either! When you hit that old man I thought for sure you'd killed him. I just grabbed the lights and ran, like you said to do," Barbara's voice was shrill and edgy. Shay couldn't tell if she was mad or afraid. "I thought I had the camera in my pocket."

"Well, you didn't have it in your pocket, did you," Tom said. "And now we have to find out who has it and shut him up."

"What do you mean by that?" Ginger asked.

A rush of fear-fuelled heat flooded Shay's face.

"You might get beaten up by your dad, but bruises heal. It's worse for Tom and me. We'll go to jail. Tom's already done a stretch and he isn't interested in going back there again, and I'll lose my kids to child protection and maybe even do some jail time myself," Barbara said. "I'm not about to sit by and let that happen, I can tell you." Barbara pulled off her gloves and put her hand in her pocket, pulling out a cigarette and lighter. She lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply. As she exhaled, the smoke filled the air around Barbara's head, like a grey halo.

"Come on, we'll do another check of the loft. That's where we were when the old guy came in and we had to clean up in a hurry. I don't trust that you guys found everything, I want to look myself," Barbara said. She headed toward the back of the barn, with the other two following.

As she reached the ladder, Tom said "I already told you, we've been up there and there's nothing left. Whoever found our stuff took it all,"

"And I already said I don't trust you two. Neither of you have a full set of brains," Barbara said as she dropped her lit cigarette and crushed it out under her foot.

"You can spend all night here as far as I'm concerned but I'm leaving," Tom said. "I sure as hell don't want to be out when the snow starts, and you should get your butt back over to Balfour before the winds get any worse or you'll be stuck on this side of the lake till tomorrow."

"But how are we going to find out who has the camera?" Ginger wailed. '"You don't know what my dad will do to me if we get caught," Ginger went on. "You just don't understand how bad it will be for me."

"Shut up!" Tom said sharply, and without warning, he raised his arm and hit Ginger fully in the face. She fell back a step and put her hand to her check, surprise and shock registering on her face.

"Oh" Shay exclaimed in alarm and she clamped her hand to her own mouth, as if she could magically take back the sound that had just escaped from her.

"What's that? Who's there?" Tom said as he turned toward Shay. He walked toward her, with Ginger following. "Hey Barb," he shouted over his shoulder. "We have a visitor!"

Shay backed as far as she could against the wall, but there was no escaping Tom as he reached down and grabbed her shoulder. Shay could smell the odour of stale tobacco on his body and stale beer on his breath as his large, gnarled hand grasped Shay by the shoulder and yanked her roughly out from behind the tractor wheel. He looked skinny, even under his winter coat, but he moved so fast that it made up for his lack of strength. She could see his face, grey and drug hardened like her parents, and Shay knew immediately that there would be no kindness in a man like him.

"What have we got here?" Tom said. "A little snoop, I think."

"I know her! She hangs out with that goody two shoes Grace Norton. I think she lives at the Halliwell's," Ginger said. "What are you doing hiding in the barn?"

"Yeah, what are you doing here, kid?" Tom Jacobs asked.

"I just came to see if the horses were okay," Shay said shakily.

"Then why didn't you just walk in," Barbara asked. "You didn't have any reason to hide," she paused a moment and then a look of understanding came over her face, "unless you had some reason to spy on us."

"Are you one of the regulars?" Tom asked.

Shay couldn't think of any reason to deny this, so she nodded her head, too afraid to speak.

"And that means you were probably here on your own, after Fletcher was hit, and I bet you did some looking around, checking out the place," he said.

"You found the camera didn't you, kid," Jacobs said, his low voice menacing and fearsome.

"Of course, that makes perfect sense!" Barbara Gillies smiled through her thin, lipstick coated lips.

"Are you the one who took the camera and left the note?" Ginger asked angrily. "Do you know how much trouble you've caused me?" She had stopped crying, but her eyes were moist and Shay could see a red welt forming on her cheek where Tom had hit her.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Shay said, squeezing the words out through her fear.

Barbara had joined the group and she looked at Shay, staring into her eyes. "Yes you do, kid," she said. "No point in lying to liars; you'll get caught every time."

"You have to let me go," Shay said. "Jolene Halliwell will be looking for me! She knows I'm here."

"No, she doesn't," Tom replied. "She's in town. I saw her drive onto the ferry a few hours ago and I heard that Dave had an accident at work. She'll be gone a few hours more, at least until eight o'clock or later."

"I told you not to lie to us, kid," Barbara said as she lit another cigarette. "So, what are we going to do with her?" Barbara said to Tom. "It was bad enough she has the camera, but now she knows you're the one who hit old man Fletcher."

Shay knew that if she was going to get away, it had to be now, while Jacobs and the woman were focused on each other. Hoping to take them by surprise, Shay twisted her shoulder and kicked, hitting Tom Jacobs squarely in the shin with the hard toe of her winter boot. He let go of his grip on her shoulder and Shay pushed Ginger out of the way and ran for the door. Before she could reach it, Barbara Gillies was fast behind her and she grabbed Shay's arm and pulled hard, sending Shay to the ground.

Tom walked over to Shay and yanked her roughly back up on her feet. He turned her away from him, holding both of her arms roughly behind her back. "Jeez kid, now I'm going to put you where you can't get away while we figure out what to do with you." He pushed her toward the barn door.

"What are you going to do with her?" Ginger asked hysterically. "You aren't going to hurt her are you?"

"She isn't leaving us much choice," Tom Jacobs answered harshly. "I think we might have to take her out in the boat and dump her in the middle of the lake. Nothing that goes into the lake in winter ever floats up again, especially if we tie a good size rock to her leg. That way there won't be any tracing her back to us. She's just a foster kid, isn't she? Everyone will all just think she ran away. No one ever looks for those kids."

"No," Shay screamed and she twisted as hard as she could, but Tom was ready for her this time and his grip on her arms was firm. "The Halliwell's know I wouldn't run away, and my friends know that too. They'll look for me," Shay said, her voice was shaky from the terror she felt overtaking her body.

"Oh no," Ginger cried out. "You can't do that! You can't hurt her, she's just a kid. Nothing like this was supposed to happen! You said it was just pictures, you never said anyone would get hurt!"

"Well, that changed when Fletcher caught us in the barn," Tom snarled at Ginger. "Me and Barbara aren't going to jail, and you don't want to get beaten up by your old man, so the kid has to be shut up."

"Let me GO!" Shay yelled as she stumbled along. The snow was falling heavily and the cold wind tore at her face. Tom Jacobs had her arms firmly bent behind her back and the pain was so intense she thought her arms would break.

Jacobs pushed Shay ahead of him, in the direction of his car. He pulled his keys from his pocket and opened the trunk. His rough hands padded against Shay's side, feeling the coat pockets. Then he reached into the right pocket and pulled out her small flashlight.

"You won't be using this any more," he said and pushed Shay into the dark opening. She gasped from pain as she landed on her side and something hit the back of her head. Jacobs grabbed her legs and shoved them in the trunk before she could kick at him.

Shay tried to look up at the man, but her tears blurred her vision so that all she could see was Jacob's dark shape against the moon lit sky.

"Please don't do this," she begged. "Please, I won't tell anyone," Shay pleaded.

"Shut up, kid," Jacobs replied heartlessly as he slammed the trunk lid down above Shay, cutting off all light.

"No!" Shay screamed into the darkness that surrounded her. The space was small and it stank of oil and filth. She couldn't see anything; it was like being trapped in a grave. Shay kicked against the trunk lid and gasped for air through her sobs. Shay felt the panic rising in her like a tidal wave, and knew it would engulf her mind and shut off all her senses, except fear.

"No," Shay said again. She breathed in slowly, trying to control her panic, forcing herself to calm the sobbing. "I've survived creepier people than these stupid weirdos," Shay said aloud, "and I can survive this, too." As Shay began to feel more in control she found she could move around more and so she wriggled as much as she could to reduce her discomfort. There was very little room in the trunk and she couldn't raise her head or stretch her legs. The bottom of the trunk underneath her was filled with junk that stuck painfully into her side through her thick jacket.

Shay moved her arms around, trying to get whatever she was laying on out from underneath her. Shay tugged and wriggled some more and pulled on an old blanket, stinking of oil. There was still something hard pushing into her ribs and she shoved and tugged and wiggled until she had the object in her hands. She pulled off her gloves so that she could get a better grip on it. Finally, she had a firm grip on the cold plastic and she yanked it out from underneath herself.

"A flashlight!" she cried out. It was a large flashlight and Shay felt around the handle until she found the on/off button and pressed but nothing happened. "Please work," she prayed. "Please," she said again as she pushed the button harder. Suddenly, the trunk was filled with light and Shay breathed a sigh of relief. The light didn't make the space any larger, nor did it make her any safer, but it made her feel more in control and even a little bit hopeful. Something on the flashlight caught her attention and she brought it close to her face so she could see.

"Oh," she aloud as she made out the letters M-A-R-I-N-E in yellow letters along a black stripe. It was the flashlight from the barn, and near the top of the light she could see some kind of dark substance. "Oh gross," she said aloud again as she quickly moved it away from her face. Shay knew that the dark substance was dried blood and skin, probably from Mr. Fletcher's head wound. It likely stuck to the light when Tom Jacobs hit Mr. Fletcher.

Seeing the evidence of Tim Jacob's violence brought an even deeper level of fear to Shay. The panic threatened to swallow up her thoughts again and she had to force herself to re-focus on the task of getting out of the trunk. I can do this, I can do this, I can do this.

Shay directed the light toward the end of the trunk, near where the back lights would be located. When she was about ten years old, her father had told her how to check for a release handle in case she was ever kidnapped and locked in a car trunk. At the time, Shay had been mortified that her father considered that to be a good piece of fatherly advice. After all, she had thought, only the children of drug dealers needed to worry about being kidnapped and if he would just clean up his act, she wouldn't be at risk. Well, she thought now, that just might turn out to be the most useful thing my father ever taught me.

She shone the light around until it landed on the trunk handle. It was near her feet and she had to almost roll herself into a ball and stretch her arm to grasp it, but finally she was able to wrap her fingers around the handle and pull. The trunk popped open and Shay crawled out quickly. She peered around the trunk lid to see if anyone in the barn was looking her way, then she pushed the lid down quietly so that they wouldn't immediately notice that she was gone if they looked out of the barn.

Shay switched the flashlight off, pulling on her gloves while running as quickly as she could down the road. The snow had started to fall during the few minutes she was in the trunk and now the wind was blowing so hard she could barely see one step ahead. She got about twenty feet and stopped as she realized that with the weather this bad, the ferry would be docked at the night landing on the other side of the lake, and no one would be driving on or off. There would be no help from that direction. The few houses that ran along the beach on either side of the ferry landing were empty summer cottages. She knew she could easily break into one of them, but it was well known in the community that most of the cottage owners had installed loud security alarms that would go off if the property was breached, and that kind of noise would quickly alert Jacobs to her location. Shay turned and trudged back toward the pasture in front of the barn while sticking close to the tree line so that she wouldn't be easily spotted. She knew the heavy snowfall would help hide her as long as she didn't venture too close to the open, horse trod pasture.

Shay trod carefully through the unbroken snow, staying just inside the first line of trees. The trees sheltered her from the worst of the wind, but Shay found it difficult to walk in the almost knee deep snow which was beginning to leak into her boots. It took Shay almost ten minutes to get around the pasture and back onto the path that would take her to the railway tracks and back to the Halliwell's where she could call the police. Her feet were cold and wet, and Shay's legs were starting to hurt from the chill of the wet snow that soaked her jeans.

Shay turned on the flashlight but she fought the urge to run as she knew the exertion would make her inhale too much freezing air and that would wear her out too fast. Although it was hard to see in the blowing snow, she kept up a steady pace and was almost to the end of the path near the rail road tracks when Shay saw a flashlight waving in the dark and fragments of friendly and familiar voices carried through the air.

"Grace?" she called out in disbelief, trying to peer through the wind-driven snow that was falling all around her.

"Hi Shay!" Grace replied cheerfully as she and Larissa rounded the twisting turn in the path and came into full view.

"What are you doing here?" Shay asked incredulously, raising her voice to be heard above the wind.

"Larissa called and said you went to the barn by yourself to check on what was going on with Ginger. For goodness sake, you didn't think we'd let you do that alone, did you?" Grace shouted back happily, shifting her body from one foot to the other to keep the cold from settling in.

"Come on, we have to get help and call the police," Shay said urgently. She pushed Grace's shoulder and pulled at Larissa's arm to get them to start walking back the way they came, along the tracks. "We can't stand here and talk, there isn't time!"

"What's the matter?" Larissa asked, raising her voice to be heard above the wind. "Did something happen?"

"Ginger wasn't alone at the barn, she was with Tom Jacobs and that Gillies woman. They caught me spying on them and they were planning to kill me. They were going to take me out onto the lake and throw me in, with a rock tied to my leg to keep my down!" Shay's voice shook from the fear and the cold.

"WHAT?" both girls replied at the same time.

"You can't be serious!" Grace said as she hurried along to keep up with Shay.

"It was Tom Jacobs who hit Mr. Fletcher, and Barbara Gillies and Ginger and Sharon were in on the whole thing. They're in the barn now and they caught me hiding in the equipment. They were going to kill me," Shay repeated, "they really were. I'm finished playing detective. Those people are serious and crazy."

The girls walked as quickly as they could and Grace pulled out her cell phone and took off her thick gloves and then punched in the button for 'Home'. Nothing happened. "My phone won't work here," she called to Shay. "It hardly ever works this close to the lake, and this weather doesn't help."

"Do you really think they'll come after us?" Larissa asked as she puffed behind Grace, trying to keep up

"They don't know about us," Grace said. "But they'll come after Shay for sure."

"That's right! They don't know about you two. Grace, you take Larissa to your house and I'll go a different way. I don't want you to get killed either," Shay said.

"You really think that I'm going to leave you?" Larissa said through teeth that chattered from the cold. "'Cause I'm not leaving you to get killed all by yourself!"

Grace giggled, as much from the near hysteria and fear as from Larissa's remark. "No such luck, girlfriend, we got into this together, we get out of this together" Grace said bravely through her wind bitten lips. "Anyway, we have to get out of the weather too, so it's smarter if we all try to get to the closest place together."

Shay started to argue, but even in the dark and cold she could see the determination on the faces of her friends. And Grace was right, they all needed to get out of the cold and that meant going to the closest house. Splitting up would only get one of them frozen, and it wouldn't save the others.

"Thanks, you guys," she said. "I don't know how soon they'll notice I'm gone. Jacobs will think that I can't get out of the trunk so he won't be in a rush to check on me, but they won't stay in the barn arguing forever. We have to hurry. It's faster if we go to the Nedsmith's than if we go home or to your place".

"No, there's no point in going there," Grace said. "My mom mentioned to me that the Nedsmith's went to Mexico last week for the rest of the winter. Their house and the greenhouses will be locked up and their phones are probably shut off."

"Well, at least we'd be safe there. We could hide in the greenhouse or the barn or somewhere," Larissa said.

"Nope, that won't work," level-headed Grace replied. The road in won't have been ploughed in a week, so we might not be able to get through the snow to the house and we can't risk all that time and energy just to find out it's blocked. The Halliwell's house is way closer than mine so we should go there and call my parents and the police."

The girls reached the end of the railroad tracks and they were able to walk faster on the main road that would lead them to the foster home. Still, the wind tore at them and the road was slick with ice under the new covering of snow. Shay's feet were suffering from the cold. Painful bolts of lightening streaked through her feet and up her legs, and she found each step forward harder than the last,

Grace was wearing ski pants, thick and warm, that kept her from getting chilled. Even Larissa was wearing heavy snow pants, sent by her grandmother for Christmas. Only Shay, dependant on a clothing allowance paid by the government, was under-clothed for the weather.

The girls were silent as they trudged along, hunched over to protect their faces from the wind-blown snow that threatened to envelop them in a blanket of freezing cold. Shay hoped they would be able to flag down a passing driver and car, but none passed by. No one would be on the road in this worsening weather unless it was an emergency, or unless it was Tom Jacobs out looking for them. Shay looked at the snow covered ditch on the side of the road and knew that there would be no place to hide and no place to run to if he drove up while they were still walking.

Finally, the girls reached the end of the long driveway that led to the Halliwell's house. They trudged through the snow and made their way up the road and quickly entered the dark house. Shay hit the light switch, but nothing happened.

"Oh no!" Shay exclaimed. "The storm has killed the power. There's probably a tree down on a power line, or else the lines have frozen and snapped," she said. "We'll have to find some more flashlights and get the fire going."

The girls took off their coats and boots and entered the kitchen. Shay was cold and wet, and she sat at the kitchen table and stripped off her socks, tights, and jeans. The house was still warm enough from the heat that was left in the wood stove even though the power outage had shut off the furnace, but Shay couldn't stop shivering.

"Give me the flashlight and I'll get us some dry clothes and towels," said Larissa. As the light flicked across the younger girl's face, Shay could see that she had been crying. Shay wanted to get up and hug her, but she was too cold to move just yet.

Larissa left the room, stomping her way up the stairs to the girls' bedroom.

"It's probably better if we don't use any more flashlights, that way we don't advertise that we're here," Grace said through chattering teeth.

"They'll come here sooner or later whether the lights are on or not," Shay responded. It was hard for her to speak through her snow chapped lips. "They know I have nowhere else to go."

"What about Ginger?" Grace asked. "If she was arguing with them, do you think they'll hurt her?"

"Yes, I do," Shay nodded. "She's in real danger. Tom Jacobs and that lady are both really crazy, and they're desperate. They don't seem to think more than a minute ahead. All they think about is shutting someone up, but they don't think about getting arrested for murder. Just like they didn't think about getting in trouble for the pictures or for attacking Mr. Fletcher."

"Oh, Shay," Grace said. "We're in such a mess. We were so stupid to not to tell our parents and call the police as soon as we found those photographs," Grace said shakily. "I'm going to call my parents and the police right now." Grace went to the telephone and picked it up, listening for a dial tone. She slowly put the phone down. "It's dead. The phone lines must be down too," she said, turning to Shay, fear written in her face. "How are we going to call for help?"

"Try your cell again" Shay said, trying to quell the panic that was filling her. Grace nodded and went back to her jacket hanging in the entry hall and pulled it out of the pocket. She flipped the phone open but the service bars were non-existent.

"Now what do we do?" Grace whispered into the dark, cold kitchen.
Chapter Eleven

Danger for All

"We have to get to your house, there isn't any other choice," Shay answered. "We aren't safe here. Tom Jacobs will show up here for sure and we'll have no way to get away from him."

"Why do you think he hasn't shown up yet? What could he be doing that's more important to him than finding you?" Larissa asked as she walked back into the kitchen with her arms full of clothes and towels. She handed dry jeans, warm tights, woollen socks and soft towels to Shay and Grace. The girls grabbed the towels and Shay rubbed hers hard on her legs, as if the motion alone could force the cold out of them.

"Who knows what that guy thinks is important," Shay answered as she reached for a woollen sock. "Maybe his car wouldn't start. Or, if we're lucky, he might have driven off the road and be stuck somewhere. Or, maybe he took some time to do something bad to Ginger and then he'll come after us. More than likely, he stopped to smoke a joint or two to steady his nerves," Shay said, recalling her parents' behaviour whenever they were stressed or afraid. "But he'll be here sooner or later, you can bet on that. We have to get to Grace's house as fast as we can." Shay stopped rubbing her legs and started to vigorously rub the towel in her snow wet hair. She was afraid that if she went out again with wet hair, it would freeze.

"Won't he see us on the road?" Larissa asked. "That would make it even easier for him because he could just run us over and say it was an accident because of the ice on the road."

"There has to be some way out of this," Grace said. "We can't just give up and wait to get killed."

Suddenly Shay stopped rubbing her head and looked at the other girls. "I know what we can do. We can use Dave's snow plough!" she said excitedly. "It can only hold one person, but if one of use could figure out how to drive it, then two of us could hide somewhere on the property while the other went for help. We could probably stay hidden long enough for your dad to get here," Shay said to Grace.

"The snow plough!" Larissa echoed. "But that thing is slow, and none of us knows how to drive."

"I can drive a plough," Grace said. "I do it all the time at home. I can drive ploughs, tractors--anything. I live on a farm, remember."

"Okay, that's what we're doing," Shay said, relieved that they finally had a way to safety. "You take the plough and get to your parents house. Larissa and I will hide someplace here till your parents show up. "

"What if that Jacobs guy sees her on the road?" Larissa asked. "She can't drive faster than a car."

"He'll be coming from the opposite direction so he won't see me. If he doesn't find you here, he's not going to keep driving to my place. Anyway, a plough can go a lot faster than a car in the snow and even if he did see the plough, he wouldn't know it was me because he won't be able to see inside," Grace answered. "And I'll have better traction on the road than that wreck he drives. Really, it's our only hope, I have to try."

"Where are the keys?" Grace asked as she put on her coat. "What if Dave has them with him?"

"He doesn't keep the keys on him. They'll be hanging on a nail inside the shed door," Shay answered. She silently thanked God that the Halliwell's never worried about thieves or foster children taking their farm equipment. The keys to all of the equipment and the truck were always in plain sight. "While you're gone, we'll find someplace to hide on the property. I don't think we can stay in the house, that's the first place they'll look. I've just got to warm up a bit more so I can walk and then we'll go out into the outbuildings. When you get back with your parents, just keep calling or honking the horn till we come out."

"How will we know it isn't Tom Jacobs calling or honking?" Larissa asked.

"Don't worry," Grace said, "Jacobs and Barbara Gillies aren't going to just honk and expect you to come running out from your hiding place. If there's honking and yelling, it'll be my dad."

Grace smiled at both of the girls and then reached her arms out toward Shay and Larissa. This time Shay didn't hesitate to join the hug. Just an hour ago, in fact for most of her life, she had felt alone and afraid, but because of these two friends Shay knew she was no longer in the world by herself. Now she was afraid for her friends as well, and she quickly ended the hug and almost pushed Grace out of the door toward the shed. She wanted her safely away before it was too late.

"I'll be back soon," Grace waved as she disappeared down the driveway and into the blowing snow.

Shay knew they didn't have any time to waste, but her chilled body was almost at the point of hypothermia and her muscles and nerves were refusing to cooperate. She had to move slowly just to move at all. Some of her toes were still numb from the long, cold walk through the snow, and some were starting to hurt badly. It would be hard for her to walk any distance and she might have trouble getting her boots back on her swollen feet. Still, they would have to do get out of the house soon...

Shay focused on getting enough feeling back in her feet that she could brave the snow again. Finally after a few minutes of warming her legs and feet, Shay knew they couldn't wait any longer.

"Get your snow gear on again," Shay said to Larissa.

"What about your feet!" Larissa asked. "Can you walk?"

"I'm okay," Shay managed to stand up despite the pain. Her balance was off, but she wobbled her way to the mudroom where she quickly looked through Jolene's dry jackets for one that she could wear. She knew that with all the trouble they were in, Jolene wouldn't mind if Shay took one of her warm jackets without asking. "Have you got any ideas about where we can hide," Shay asked Larissa as she rifled through the jackets, finally choosing one that was long and heavy and looked like it would keep the wet of the snow off her body.

The Halliwell's had a number of outbuildings, but since they didn't keep animals on the place most of the sheds and small structures were used for equipment and none were heated.

"I don't know where we should go," Larissa said. "Should I put on my own clothes again? They're a little wet but they're not too bad."

"Put on whatever dry snow gear you can find quickly and we'll go out into the back field and hide in the old equipment shed. It isn't insulated but it's a good distance from the house. Jacobs and that woman won't go wondering around the fields in this weather, I'm sure they'll get tired of looking for us before we freeze," Shay hoped that she sounded more confident than she felt. She was responsible for putting Larissa in danger, and she knew she had to take care of her now. Still, Shay had some comfort knowing that Grace was far enough away by now that Jacobs wouldn't be able to catch up with her and it wouldn't take more than another ten or fifteen minutes before the Norton's arrived at the Halliwell's.

"How about hiding in the old chicken coop?" Larissa said, tugging on her thick snow pants. "It hasn't had chickens in it while we've lived here, but it was built to keep them warm so the sides of the building might have insulation. We might be okay in there."

Shay shook her head as she zipped up the coat. "Larissa, you amaze me. When did you grow this mighty brain?"

Larissa beamed at Shay. "You see, I'm worth having around, aren't I!" she exclaimed.

"You bet you are," Shay smiled back. "I just have to get some boots on here and I'm ready."

Shay turned toward the mud room door just as it opened. Her heart skipped a beat in shock as she made out the dark form of Tom Jacobs slowly stepping into the room.

"Well, well, well. You had to go and add another one for me to get rid of," he said, pointing his flashlight at Larissa. "You are no end of trouble, kid, you know that?" He was panting heavily and his voice was strained.

Despite his anger, Jacob's face was slack and his eyes were glazed, so Shay knew she'd been right, he'd stopped his search for her long enough to smoke some dope. Shay's jaw quivered and her knees almost buckled. "Run Larissa," Shay hissed, but the younger girl stood as if rooted in place from fear. Shay reached out to take Larissa's hand. She realized that even if she could move fast enough, it was too late to hide now.

"I should just shoot you both here and get it over with, but that's too messy. We can get you both in Barb's boat and the lake will do the trick," Jacob's said. "No mess and nothing to trace back to me this time."

Jacobs pointed his gun at Shay. "You've got two seconds to start walking out the door."

"Just leave us Mr. Jacobs, please," Shay pleaded. "You won't get away with all of this now, it's too late."

"Quit stalling," the man shouted. He seemed unsteady on his feet, but the gun looked firm enough in his hand.

"Grace Norton knows about you and she's gone to get her parents. You can't get away with this any longer. If we go missing, everyone will know that you did something to us."

Jacobs glared at Shay. "Don't give me no bullshit girl, there's no one coming to save you. Who cares about a couple of foster kids."

"Yes, there is too someone coming!" Larissa almost shouted. "Grace knows about everything and her parents know by now, too. You can't get away with killing us--it's too late."

"Well, that does change things a bit, doesn't it," Jacobs said slowly. "I guess instead of killing you, I'll have to take you as hostages till I can get out of Proctor."

"How are you going to do that? And where would you go?" Shay asked. "The Norton's will call the police and they'll find you."

"Oh, no, they won't find me," Jacobs said. "I've been crawling all over these mountains since I was younger than you two. I know where every hunter's cabin is on this side of the mountain. All I've got to do is get to a cabin before the police get here. With you two with me I can rest assured that I got something to trade if things go bad."

"Are you crazy?" Even as she said it, Shay knew that it was true. Tom Jacobs wasn't sane. A lifetime of drinking and taking drugs had left him with few reasoning skills, and she knew he couldn't think beyond the next few minutes.

"What about Barbara and Ginger?" Shay asked, trying to stall the man. "Are you just going to leave them?"

"I was going to drown Ginger with you anyway, and I don't give a rat's ass about Barb. She can take care of herself," Jacobs replied as he shoved the gun muzzle closer to Shay's face. "Get moving!"

Shay looked at the boots and quickly grabbed a pair. As she put them on she realized they were Jolene's steel toe work boots that the foster mother wore when she was working in the barn. They were heavy and would hurt, but Shay knew Jacob's wasn't going to give her time to find others. The sharp pains in her feet intensified from the pressure of the boots against her raw, thawing skin, but she stayed silent and only grimaced. She knew Jacobs wouldn't hesitate to shoot her if she did anything he didn't like. He was stupid, stoned and angry, and Shay knew that was a deadly combination.

"Get ahead of me and walk down the road. My car's at the bottom of the fence," Jacobs said. "Don't try anything because I don't have a lot to lose."
Chapter Twelve

Valuable Lessons

The girls walked out of the mud room and into the darkness of the snow-filled night. Shay took Larissa's hand and squeezed it to reassure the frightened girl but Larissa surprised her by pulling her hand away and putting her arm around Shay to support her as she walked.

"Its okay, Shay," Larissa said. "I can help you walk."

"Shut up!" Jacobs yelled through the blowing snow.

Shay's eyes filled with tears, not from the wind, but from the kindness of Larissa. The younger girl was full of strength and goodness that no one would ever know about unless Shay could save her. But she couldn't think of anything to do, and Shay was quickly losing hope that the Norton's would find them in time. She knew that Grace's parents would first go the Halliwell's place and spend some time looking for the girls there. By the time they figured out the girls were gone, it would be too late. Jacobs would have them halfway up a mountain road where they'd either die from the weather, or Jacobs would shoot them. Shay could see Jacob's old, battered car at the bottom of the road. It waited like a beast ready to devour her and Larissa. Shay knew that Jacobs wouldn't take the chance of her getting out of the car again, he would do something to her before she got into the car and there would be nothing she could do to help Larissa.

Shay gulped at the cold air as fear threatened to over take her. She tried to calm her racing mind and focused on slowing her breathing. The distance between the girls and the car was getting smaller and smaller. Shay could feel Larissa's arm around her back, holding her in both support and fear.

Suddenly, a memory forced itself into Shay's terrified mind. It was her father flushing drugs down the toilet while the police were banging in the front door of their dilapidated rented house.

"What are you doing, you fool?" her mother had screamed at him. "They've got guns, just give up!"

Her father ignored the noise and didn't looked up or stop flushing the drugs till the police slammed into the bathroom, guns pointing at the back of his head, and ordered him to stop. He'd finally looked up and noticed Shay, small and terrified, curled up beside the bath tub. He'd winked at Shay and smiled as the police roughly put the handcuffs on his thick wrists.

"I never give up kid," he'd said to her. "You can learn that much from me, eh? Never give up!" And his desperate flushing had worked as the most incriminating drugs were gone, leaving the police with only enough evidence to charge him with possession.

You're right, Shay thought. I can learn that much from you.

Shay squeezed Larissa's hand to steady herself and then in one fluid motion she turned and kicked out with her half frozen foot, catching Jacobs in the shin with Jolene's hard toed boots.

"Oh shit," Jacobs cried out and bent over to rub at his shin. Larissa saw her chance and didn't hesitate: she moved quickly, kicking at his other leg as Jacobs lost his footing and began flinging his arms wildly, trying in vain to stay on his feet. The gun went off in the air as he landed hard on the snow covered ice, and the weapon fell out of the man's hand and landed in the snow. Shay kicked again at the fallen figure, this time aiming for his kidneys through his thick coat. Jacobs swore again and squirmed forward, trying to find his gun in the snow.

"Get the gun," Shay yelled at Larissa as she kicked again at the fallen Jacobs.

Larissa moved quickly around the man's head and kicked the gun out his reach then kicked it again and again till it was deep in the snow bank at the side of the road. She ran back to Shay who was still kicking at Jacobs as he tried to grab Shay's legs.

"Get his arms!" Shay yelled.

Larissa jumped on his arms and slammed one foot into his shoulder and one on his hand, letting her full weight pin his movements.

"Get off me!" he cried. "You're going to break my shoulder you little bitch!"

Shay kicked hard again at the man's back. As he rolled toward her she put her heavy boot on his other shoulder, pinning him to the frozen ground. Jacobs tried to move, but the girls had him down. He kicked up with his legs, but a lifetime of drugs and unhealthy living had robbed him of energy and strength. As the cold silently gripped him, Jacobs became visibly weaker.

"Get snow on him," Shay said to Larissa. "We have to get him as cold as we can, so he can't do anything."

Larissa nodded as she reached down and pulled the cap off Jacob's and then piled snow around his scalp and on his face.

"You're going to kill me!" he said weakly, trying to shake off the snow. "I'm going to freeze to death."

Shay didn't want him to die, but she didn't have any other way to keep him down. The cold that had been her enemy only moments before was now going to be her salvation.

Shay dimly heard the honking of a truck's horn and looked up to see headlights blazing through the snow. The Norton's had arrived. It was over, and she and Larissa were still alive!

Chapter Thirteen

Consequences

It hadn't take Mr. Norton long to tie Tom Jacobs up in the tractor shed. The police arrived a half an hour after Mr. Norton and took over the investigation. It took the Halliwells another two hours to drive out from town and to convince the ferry captain to risk the trip on the wind chopped lake.

Mrs. Norton had driven over with her husband and as soon as she was sure that the girls had not been harmed by Jacobs, she made Shay get in a warm bath to take care of her frostbite. Mr. Norton gave Shay some medication to help her cope with the pain that was winding its way from her toes up her legs, as the warm bath water began to get her blood circulating properly through her lower body.

As Shay bathed, Mrs. Norton talked with Grace and Larissa in the hallway outside the bathroom.

"I don't know what you girls were thinking!" she said repeatedly. "You've spent the last few weeks lying to us all and not reporting a serious crime, and to top it off you almost got yourselves killed by that crazy man. Shay was almost frozen to death in the storm! Grace Norton you are grounded till you're seventeen, and Larissa," she said pointing at the shaking young girl, "you can be sure that Jolene will have something to say to you and Shay about all this sneaking around."

The Constable who had arrested Jacobs called for back up and more police soon found Barbara Gillies and arrested her. It was another hour still before the Constable at the house was informed that Ginger had been located and was alive, safe and talking. So far, she had verified everything that Shay, Grace, and Larissa had told the police.

"You have to protect Ginger," Shay pleaded with the Constable. "Her dad will hurt her when he finds out about the pictures. It might be the same for Sharon."

The Constable had called Child Protection and although Shay wasn't sure what was going to be done, she knew that Ginger and Sharon would be protected for now. Once the Halliwells arrived, Mr. and Mrs. Norton had taken Grace home immediately, without giving the three girls any time to say good bye.

Finally, the last of the police left the house. Sue Osner, the social worker, had called three times and made it clear that while she couldn't get to the Halliwell's tonight in the snowstorm, her only decision would be whether to move Shay and Larissa to the first available home right away, or wait till she found a suitable placement.

"I don't even know what to say to you girls," said Jolene as she sat with them in the living room after Dave had gone to bed.

Shay and Larissa sat on the fire-heated floor beside the wood stove, sipping at their hot chocolate. Even the warmth of the fire and the quilts wrapped around their shoulders didn't seem enough to completely get rid of the chill that had settled in them. Shay's toes still hurt but Jolene had given Shay a pair of warm woollen socks to put on and the pain medication was keeping the worst of it at bay.

"There's going to be you know what to pay after your social workers get the whole story tomorrow," Jolene shook her head. "I don't know what your grandparents are going to say about all this, Larissa." Shay could see the hurt in Jolene's expression as she had listened to all that her foster children had been doing behind her back.

"I'm so sorry we lied to you" Shay said truthfully. "I just couldn't stand to lose the horses."

"The horses!" Jolene almost spat out the tea she had just sipped. "You knew there were other girls in danger who were doing things that were bad and illegal, but you didn't have the sense to tell anyone like you should have! And worse yet, you put yourselves in the way of a bunch of crazy criminals who would have killed you if they'd had another chance."

"We were both raised by criminals," Larissa said softly. "It's just not that big a deal to us."

Shay stared for a moment at Larissa and then she looked at Jolene who sat silent. "She's right, Jolene," Shay said at last. "We might as well be from a different planet than you and the Norton's. Being in foster care isn't a reward, you know. We end up here because kids like us are raised around all kinds of stuff that people like you never see in your whole life. We watched our own parents and the other adults do things that were illegal and sometimes horrible. And we grew up learning to keep secrets and to not trust adults. That's just the way life is for kids like us. We knew what we should have done, but it just wasn't as important as saving the horses... because if we lost them, that would just be the beginning of losing everything, and we'd never, ever have anything good in our lives again. It would just all go away, like all the good things always do."

Jolene still said nothing. Her silence bothered Shay more than any words could have done.

"I know you're going to move me now. I'll have to go live somewhere else," Shay pulled the quilt tightly around her, needing all the pretence of security it allowed. "I just hope you'll let Larissa stay here. She just followed me, she didn't mean to do anything wrong."

Jolene finally put her tea cup down, then stood up and walked over to where Shay sat by the burning wood stove. "Stand up girl," she said. Shay stood up slowly. Jolene stepped closer and wrapped her arms around Shay. "I know you don't like to be touched, but this time you're going to stand there and let me hug you," she said. Shay stood still, struggling stubbornly against the tears that threatened to fall, unwanted, down her cheeks. Jolene pulled back and looked at Shay. "Neither of you are going anywhere if I can help it," she said, stroking Shay's long hair. "I don't care what planet you girls started life on, you're on my planet now, and you're staying here."

"Do you mean that, Jolene?" Larissa asked as she hopped up from the floor, half dropping her quilt from excitement. "Can we stay? Both of us? Because I don't want to lose Shay."

"I won't lie to you girls, we're going to have a fight on our hands," Jolene said honestly as she stroked Shay's hair. "Dave and I aren't going to look too good to the social workers and they've got every right to think they should move you both to some foster home that can watch you better than we did. And I don't know what I can say to them about that. After all, we didn't have a clue about what you girls were up to. But then, neither did the Norton's, so if we give a good argument, I think that maybe they'll let you stay. Anyway," Jolene said with a smile, "let's be honest here. Where else are they going to put two girls who break up porn rings and take down a grown man who has a gun?"

Shay tried to say thank you but she couldn't get a sound out; her voice felt trapped in her throat. She stepped back from Jolene's embrace and looked at the floor. "Thank you," she managed to whisper.

Jolene smiled and nodded. "Time for bed," she said. "The police want to question you both some more in the morning. Shay, after we get you and those toes to a doctor, you girls can bet we'll have social workers and news paper reporters here all day, so we need to be ready and alert. I'm going to have to see what baking I have in the freezer because all those people are going to want to eat."

Shay limped toward the stairs. It was hard for her to really grasp that Jolene was going to try to keep her. As she trailed up the stairs behind Larissa, trying not to step on the bottom of the quilt that dragged on the floor behind the younger girl, Shay could feel her tense muscles starting to relax.

"Maybe I'll finally belong somewhere," she said quietly.

"What did you say?" Larissa asked.

"Oh, nothing," Shay said. "Come on, let's go to bed."

Shay listened to the noises that Larissa made as she burrowed under her covers and wiggled about on the bunk above. The very sounds that had annoyed Shay so much only a few weeks before, now gave her a feeling of comfort. Best of all, she knew that Jolene would keep her word and would fight with the social workers to let the girls stay with her and Dave.

It wasn't quite like having a real family, Shay thought. But maybe, just maybe, her life was now and forever more than good enough.

THE END

About the author

Brenda McCreight PhD is a therapist, author, and consultant specializing in services for individuals and families dealing with challenges such as stress, depression, family relationships, life transitions and early childhood trauma. Brenda is the author of several books related to adoption as well as several fiction books. She is also the mom of a very large family and she enjoys gardening and raising chickens. Check out her blog at http://www.theadoptioncounselor.com/Blog or her new "Brenda's book blog" which will be up and running shortly.

Check out Brenda's other books published through Smashwords and available on most e readers.

Fiction

**Cleah: The Fury Chronicles – The Otherworld –** Stepping through the mists that separate the Worlds, a young orphan slave finds romance and adventure, but can she find the clues to her origins?

**Regards** – A collection of short stories about betrayal, heartbreak, courage, and redemption.

Non-fiction

**Family Matters – How to Strengthen Your Family Without Paying a Therapist or Changing Your Lives** – this book is full of effective strategies that will help your family navigate the tough times that await us all.

