The Third Grave (Savannah #4) - Lisa Jackson Page 0,53
both horse and rider.
She remembered being the girl on the horse and Chandra’s annoyance and advice and way with horses. Chandra, a woman who might be more comfortable with animals than people, was older now, thicker around the middle, her brown hair still plaited in a single braid that snaked down her back, though now the plait was dull and dyed, gray roots visible surrounding a rounded, tanned face. She was wearing a dingy orange T-shirt with a Grateful Dead logo and faded, dusty jeans that seemed identical to the battered pair she’d worn twenty years earlier.
“Now give it another try, and remember, hold the reins lightly,” she said more loudly as she backed up. “Remember, Oliver can feel what you want. Communicate with the horse. Trust him.” With those parting words she slipped through the gate again, her eyes rolling toward the sky. “Lost cause,” she said to Nikki, then watched as the rider urged the horse forward and he started at a quick trot around the perimeter of the oval arena.
A chain saw started to roar in an orchard nearby as a wiry jean-clad man bent over a downed peach tree, but the horse didn’t flinch, just kept his pace, the little rider teetering slightly. “Oh, for . . . would you look at that? I told Chuck not to clear the damned trees until after Willa’s lesson.” She sighed, then waved frantically, finally getting the grizzled man’s attention. She made a slashing motion across her throat and the chain saw died as Chuck frowned, lifted a baseball cap from his balding head, but nodded, getting the message.
“One more idiot to deal with,” Chandra confided. “Now, what was I saying? Oh, right, you were asking about that Duval family who lived up the street from us. I got a weird vibe from them, but it was probably because of the older boy, what was his name? Owen. Yeah, that’s right. Sullen little bastard. Always staring at you from behind a mop of dark hair, like he was hiding; y’know, a predator in a cave.” She gave a little involuntary shudder.
“You think he was behind the girls disappearing?”
Chandra let out a snort. “Course he was. Who else? And he was supposed to be in charge, now, wasn’t he?” She glanced at the rider as the horse trotted past. “That’s better, Willa, now, slow him down. We’re about done here.”
Bouncing atop Oliver, the waif of a girl nodded, her face ashen, her eyes round, the helmet slipping a bit. If she was enjoying her lesson, she was hiding it well. She yanked back on the reins and the horse stopped suddenly.
Chandra bolted through the gate. “That’s good, that’s good,” she said, snagging the reins just as a gray minivan rolled down the lane to park behind Nikki’s Honda. A frazzled-looking red-haired woman climbed quickly out from behind the wheel. With a runner’s body, she was lean and taut, her age landing somewhere in her forties. “Come on, Willa,” she called, waving at her daughter as Willa, with Chandra’s help, dismounted. Yanking off what appeared to be a hated riding helmet, the girl bounded through the open gate. Chandra tied the reins loosely over one of the rails beneath a shade tree, then followed.
“How’d she do?” Mom asked, checking her watch and ruffling her daughter’s hair.
Chandra equivocated. “Improving.”
“Good, good,” Mom said, not really interested. To her daughter, she added, “Look, honey, you get in the car. Quick. Chop. Chop.”
The girl didn’t need any more encouragement and dived into the minivan.
Mother apologized, “Sorry. We’re already late for the boys’ lessons.”
“Do I have to go?” Willa whined from the interior of the minivan, but Mom ignored it. To Nikki, she offered an apologetic smile. “Martial arts. Tae kwon do and we’re late. Well, I’m always late. Twins. Six-year-old boys. Willa hates waiting, and I can’t say that I blame her, but, well, you know, it is what it is.” She shook her head as if she couldn’t believe her life. “After martial arts, it’s swim lessons for all of them.” She was flustered and breathless. “Crazy, I know.”
“Mo-om,” Willa called from the interior of the van. “Can we just go now?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming,” she threw over her shoulder, then, turning back to Chandra, “Oh, damn. I forgot the check. I’ll . . . I’ll Venmo the next month’s lessons when I get home. Okay?” She was already heading back to her vehicle.