The steely eyes moved over Nikki’s features with unconcealed disdain. “It’s company policy and my own personal code of ethics to never discuss the private lives of my staff.”
“It’s just that Ophelia has developed a personal relationship with Annabelle,” Nikki persisted.
“Has she?” Miss Stacy asked. “Hmm. Well, I’m sure she’ll do just fine with Gia.” She eyed Chloe, who was happily talking to the two little goats. “And, you should know, this is really no place for a toddler.”
“Really?” Nikki said, unable to hide her irritation. The woman was just plain rude. “Gia told me she took up riding when she was just three.”
“Not here, she didn’t.” With that, Miss Stacy stiffly headed up the short flight of stairs to the office.
Nikki was left doing a slow, steady burn. People in authority had tried to dominate her all of her life, but she wasn’t intimidated. You didn’t grow up as the offspring of Big Ron and Charlene Gillette without growing a backbone.
But for now, she backed off and tried to pay attention as Phee guided the horse around the arena, riding over low jumps and encouraging Daisy through multiple obstacles. As she watched horse and rider, she kept an eye out for Annabelle, should she decide to show up, and also for Shana Kittle, whose lesson usually followed Phee’s. But Annabelle was a no-show, and Shana, too, didn’t arrive.
No big deal, she told herself, but she noticed the instructor she’d seen with Shana the week before waiting and pacing impatiently by the main door, now wide open, the view of the surrounding fields and lane visible. Tan, lean, and obviously irritated, she alternately stared down at the entrance to the academy and looked down at her cell’s screen, finally stuffing the phone into the back pocket of her jeans.
“Waiting for someone?” Nikki asked.
“What?” She seemed startled out of her own thoughts. “Well, yeah, I guess.” Lips pursed, she shaded her eyes with a hand and squinted into the lowering sun hanging just above the horizon.
“No one called and canceled?”
“Right.”
“Maybe they’re just caught in traffic or something.”
“Maybe. But she’s never late. Never. If something happened, you’d think she could call or shoot me a text.” Hands on her slim hips, she scowled. “I’ve got a life, too, you know. I gave up a babysitting gig, a really good one, for this lesson!” She started to turn away, but Nikki caught her by the elbow.
“Hey!” She glared pointedly at Nikki’s hand.
“Sorry.” Nikki let go, just as the girl yanked her arm back. “I’m waiting for Shana’s mom,” she lied. “Usually she drops Shana off, right?” Nikki was just guessing. There could be other riders needing instruction at the same time, but she gambled.
“Yeah.” The girl backed up a step to allow Ophelia, leading Daisy,to pass by on her way to the stable area, the mare’s steel-shod hoofs ringing against the asphalt, her flaxen tail swishing against flies.
Nikki pressed, “And Naomi—I mean, her mom—waits for Shana?”
“Well … sometimes she waits, but usually she, you know, doesn’t stick around.”
“Where does she go?”
“God, how would I know?” she asked a little suspiciously. “You’reher friend.”
“Does she meet someone?” Nikki pressed.
The instructor hesitated. “Sometimes, yeah.” She glanced through the open door to the lane, and Nikki followed her gaze. A black pickup was rolling up the tree-lined drive, the same black Ram crew cab Nikki had seen the week before. “Huh. I guess Knox didn’t get the memo, either.”
“Knox?” Nikki repeated, remembering the name. Kyle had mentioned that Knox Quinlan was part of the group that met at the Stag and Boar.
“Yeah. He’s the guy she meets here,” the blonde said, then turned her narrowed gaze on Nikki. “Why are you asking all of these questions?”
Before Nikki could come up with a plausible lie, the door to the office burst open, and Miss Stacy bustled down the steps. She shot an irritated look Nikki’s way and said, “Brittany, I need to talk to you.”
“About what the eff happened to my lesson?”
Miss Stacy bristled slightly. “There’s been a slight mix-up,” she admitted, obviously flustered. She angled a shoulder between Nikki and Brittany, and tried to keep their conversation more private by lowering her voice. “Apparently, Mrs. Kittle called after hours yesterday and canceled. We, um, didn’t get the message until just now.”
“Well, great,” Brittany said, throwing up her hands as if it were the end of the world. “I turned down another job for this!”
“I’m sorry, but Mrs. Kittle left the message on the office answering machine, and we didn’t get it until now. Annabelle usually deals with any messages that come in on the machine, but she’s not here and so, well, no one noticed.”
