Mrs. Finch (also victim)
TWENTY-TWO
Dust motes floated through the beams of sunlight, hitting my face. At first I thought I was back home, that Aunt DeeDee would stop by later that day with a trayful of food she would try to force-feed me. But no.
I lay on the couch across from Lacy, who’d fallen asleep curled in an uncomfortable position on the wing chair.
I checked the time—it was already 7:42 a.m. I sprang from the cushion I’d wedged under my head as a pillow. We needed to finally connect the dots between the crown in my aunt’s room, the Polaroids in my bed, and Mr. Finch’s dead body.
I nudged Lacy awake, and within minutes we were both on our feet. After we sprayed on fresh deodorant and took a quick look at ourselves in the mirror, ignoring what we didn’t have time to fix, we were out the door and headed to the stables.
On the way we spotted the group of butt-busters shaking and jiving to “Master of the House” fromLes Mis. Jemma was grinning and in her element, moving between the sweaty contestants and showing them the perfect squat. Whatever made her happy, I supposed.
The stable master recognized Lacy, so he agreed—after asking me several questions about my experience with horses—that we could take out a couple of the gentler mares.
Polly had a rusty-red coat and a dark brown mane. I introduced myself and told her about Bella as I stroked her nose and gave her a good rubdown, letting her sniff me before placing the saddle pad across her back.
When I asked the stable master where I could find a saddle, he pointed to a door in the barn. Inside I counted seven rows with five or six saddles each. Mr. Finch had said they had quite a collection, but I couldn’t have imagined anything like the leather craftsmanship covering the entire wall. I ran a hand over the nearest one—soft and supple. Only the finest for the Finches.
There were messages inscribed on the cantle of most of the saddles: everything from simple dedications to ones so personal I wouldn’t let my eyes linger.
To My Diamond
To My Rose
Love You Forever
Love, Your Mom
Love You Always
To Another 20 Years
What a Wild Ride
I was reminded that in all the bustle yesterday, I’d never finalized what my talent would be in the show tomorrow.
A myriad showstoppers had scored big points over the years, according to Aunt DeeDee: a performance of “La Macarena”in the style of ballet, “Für Elise”playedwith wind chimes, Macbeth’s soliloquy given while dressed as Harry Potter. The show certainly seemed to award creativity.
I spotted a bucket and several cleaning supplies in the corner and considered requesting them backstage. If worse came to worse, I’d be able to give a detailed tutorial on the proper way to clean a saddle. Aunt DeeDee would be proud or horrified—I wasn’t sure which.
Lacy grabbed the first saddle she saw. She didn’t particularly like horses, but her parents had forced her to take dressage classes for a year, thinking she could specialize in a less-known sport for college scholarships. The first time she’d accidentally stepped in horse poop, she’d gagged for five minutes and known it would never be a lifelong passion.
I turned toward her. “Do you think I can borrow one of these for my talent?”
Her brow wrinkled. “I guess, but why would you?”
“I want to wow the judges.”
She put up a hand. “Whatever you think’s best.”
After we ensured a secure fit for the saddles, Lacy threw her leg over the back of a quarter horse named Ginger as I climbed astride Polly.
The path to the back of the property wasn’t a straight shot, and branches poked at our arms as if reaching to hold us back. Neither of us talked much as we navigated fallen branches and trees that had been struck by lightning. There wasn’t much of a breeze and I wished for a bandana to wipe the sweat beginning to drench my face. Thankfully, the dense foliage soon thinned and the scent of honeysuckle perfumed the air.
A stone wall at least ten feet high towered in front of us, topped by spindly wrought-iron spikes ready to impaleintruders. The only break in the wall was a gate with more narrow spires an inch or two apart.
