Satisfied I have an acceptable mattress, I turn my attention to the old chair in the corner. I drag it over by the window. This will be a nice place to read. There’s a whole wall of books down in the rec room. I even have a flashlight in my pack. I’ll be able to read at night. I glance at the south window. I wonder if he’ll be able to see the glow of my light from his cabin.
There are lots of old drapes lying around. I’ll figure out how to tack them over the windows at night. In fact, I see an ancient parlor lamp on its side. Maybe all it needs is a lightbulb. Surely they have extras in their supply closet.
I make sure the coast is clear and take the cleaning supplies downstairs. I open one supply closet; spa-like toiletries line the shelves. Soft cotton towels, pillows, duvets, silk sheets. Do they keep track of what they have? There’s so much, I decide to take a chance. I take a pillow and towel. If I don’t hear anyone complaining about them being gone, I’ll try for more.
There’s a box labeled Lost and Found. Things left by guests, I assume. Inside it are Dopp kits, various tubes of lipstick and makeup, several articles of clothing, an e-reader, and a few pairs of shoes. Each is labeled with a room number and date. Nothing is dated before September of last year. I surmise if the older items haven’t been claimed by now, they never will be. It’s not like stealing. I’ll bring them back when I move on. It will be nice to have some new things until then. And an e-reader! Oh, yes. Even the charging cord is with it. I hope the attic has electricity.
The next closet has paper products. I eye the toilet paper. What if I have to pee in the middle of the night? It’s not like being outside where you can just up and go.
I dart into the bathroom attached to the small vacant bedroom off the kitchen. I quickly use it, not knowing when I’ll be able to again. It’s rare I get to use a real toilet unless Mr. Choi, the nice man who owns the corner store I frequent, lets me use his. He feels sorry for me because I pay using my Lone Star Card, which is just a fancy title for food stamps.
Before I go back upstairs, I take a look in the refrigerator and pantry. Although there are currently no guests, there is no shortage of food. With my gut full of guilt, I take a few bottles of water from the back, an older-looking brick of cheese, and some crackers that have been opened but are nearing expiration.
In the attic, I pull my notebook from my pack and start a list.
2 water bottles
Brick of cheese
Half-box of crackers
Someday I’ll pay for everything I take.
Chapter Three
Aaron
My phone rings. It’s Andie. “Oh, good,” she says. “You’re still alive. The ghost didn’t kill you.”
“Very funny, and it’s not a ghost.”
“You figured out the mystery?”
“It’s no mystery. It’s a thief. Found some food missing.”
“You took inventory of the food?”
“No, but I know what was there.”
“Maybe you’re imagining things.”
I start to question myself. Did I drink the Coke and eat the yogurt? I remember being dog-tired, but what if I came in for a midnight snack?
“Maddox wanted me to tell you it’s all-hands-on-deck. With the new stable going up, he wants everyone to rotate the horses in and out of the pastures. He doesn’t want them stressing because of the noise, and there will be a lot of it today.”
“Want me to see if Quinn can help?”
She hesitates. She likes Quinn, but she hates his family. Namely his uncle, who kidnapped her briefly over seven years ago. Jon is still in prison for that and a slew of other offenses.
“Forget it.”
“It’s fine. Ask him. Maddox and Owen will appreciate all the help they can get.”
Quinn Thompson is my best friend. Has been since I was sent down here when I was a delinquent fifteen-year-old. His family, or what remains of it, wanted him to follow in his grandfather’s footsteps and become an oil and land tycoon. He wants nothing to do with it. He’d be happy being a ranch hand. Although he has access to millions in a trust fund, he never touches it. Calls it blood money.
An hour later, Quinn and I meet at the main ranch. The others are leading horses out of the stables. Maddox has a huge smile on his face. He’s waited years for this. Saved every penny for the expansion. His father owns this place, and Maddox is determined to see it flourish. He’s become quite the businessman. It’s a far cry from his last gig as a bartender in New York City. But now he’s just as much at home sitting in a saddle as anyone else on this ranch.
“Aaron, you, Quinn, and Luca take those horses in paddock ten to pasture two. Keep an eye on Mr. Kalik’s mare—she’s a feisty one.”
“You got it.” I carry a saddle over to paddock ten and pick a horse to ride. I have my favorites. Most of the horses here are boarded by paying customers, but several are owned by the ranch. Reuben neighs when he sees me coming. He’s one of Maddox’s. He named him after his favorite sandwich at my mom’s restaurant, where he used to work. “Hey, Reuben. Let’s you and I lead this bunch outta here. What do you say?” I turn to Quinn. “He says yes.”
Quinn shakes his head. He doesn’t believe horses understand people. I do. It’s one thing Andie and I have in common.
We spend the afternoon with the horses in the pasture. Ordinarily, we’d leave them to their own resources, but with so many out here at one time, we could be asking for trouble when they’re used to being in their stalls. Not to mention we have customers who keep valuable stallions and broodmares here. We can’t risk anything happening to them if one of the others becomes unruly.
Andie makes the rounds between pastures, seeing if we’re having any trouble and bringing us drinks and snacks.
It’s early April, a beautiful time to be in Texas. Warm days, cool nights. The rainy days of late April and May haven’t started.
Even this far from the action, we can still hear some of the construction. Maddox worked it out so there would only be occasional days with heavy construction going on. He’ll do anything to make Devil’s Horn Ranch the most desirable place to board and train horses, not to mention the best place to work.
“Want to go out tonight?” Quinn asks.
“Can’t. Busy.”
His eyebrows shoot up. “Is there something you’re not telling me? You’re never busy.” He stares me down. “Who is she?”
“There is no she. I’m busy with things at the lodge.”
“Such as?”
I think of the missing Coke and how stupid I’d feel if I was the one who drank it, so I don’t bring it up. “There are some things that need fixing before the next group comes in.”
“Need help?”
“Nah. I’ve got it covered.”
“Friday, then? Head into town for some action?”
“Sure. Friday.”
At six o’clock, we take the horses back. The frame of the new stable is up. They got a lot done in one day. I smile, knowing my small stake in the ranch will someday pay off big time.
At home, I shower and make dinner, then head to the lodge just after sundown. I’m torn between a desire to catch the perpetrator and an urge to deter him. I decide to lock the doors as a test. I thought about it a lot today. If I wasn’t imagining it, and someone really did come in and take those things, it could have been stoners. Kids are known to hang out on the airstrip at the north end of the property. I should know; I was one of them back in the day.