Hide and Seek Read online

  Sergeant Everard narrowed her eyes.

  Mrs Edel's cheeks turned a deep red. 'Diablo means more to me than any money.'

  The sergeant shrugged. 'You raised it.'

  'We have to ask,' Constable Bidgood explained. He put the photos back down on the coffee table. 'He looks like a fine animal.' The constable stood and moved towards the door. 'Perhaps you'd like to come down during the week and lodge a written report. I'm pretty sure there's a Rural Watch group in this area – it's like Neighbourhood Watch for farms. We can give you some phone numbers if you like.'

  Mrs Edel remained seated. 'It's a bit late for that now, isn't it? Aren't you going to get the forensic people out here? There might be fingerprints, or tyre tracks.'

  'This is not a murder investigation, Mrs Edel,' the sergeant said, standing in the doorway so that cold air rushed into the room. 'So far it's an unconfirmed mis-placement of livestock. It happens a lot when the missing property has legs, and so we must allocate resources accordingly. We've logged your call. Please let us know as soon as possible if you find your horse somewhere on your property.'

  Shelby guessed what the sergeant meant was 'when' they found Diablo.

  'That woman has been rude at every encounter,' Mrs Edel commented as she stood at the window watching the police drive away.

  Shelby was glad somebody else thought so too.

  4 Acrobatics

  'Hey, I just remembered – my mum's training to be a private eye,' Shelby said. 'Maybe she could take it on, like a missing person case.'

  Mrs Edel sighed, ignoring Shelby's comment. 'Well, I suppose the first thing is to search the place again. I'm going to feel like a right wally if he does turn up here somewhere. Can you girls check the back again for me? Lindsey, take Scooter. He's always sensible in the rain.'

  Scooter was one of the riding school horses – a pretty palomino, slightly bigger than Shelby's paint pony, Blue.

  Shelby had to borrow one of the riding school saddles, as her all-purpose saddle was broken. The old saddle was sitting on her bedroom floor and every night when Shelby went to bed she looked at it, hunched and busted in the shadows, like a mascot for all the things she wanted but couldn't have.

  Eventually she would need to replace it, but with what? Her job at the stables, other than feeding and mucking out, was to lead the trail rides on the week-ends, so a western or a stock saddle would be the best for that. On the other hand, she went to Pony Club, and most of those girls rode in dressage or all-purpose saddles. Some of them had jumping saddles as well. Shelby wished she had the luxury of owning one of each but that wasn't possible.

  When I am a grown up, Shelby thought to herself, I will have ten horses in ten different colours and a saddle for every day of the week, plus one wrapped up for special occasions.

  For this ride she chose a western saddle that she had used before. She had always dreamed of owning a fancy dressage saddle, and had been sceptical when Lindsey suggested the western, so she had been sur-prised to find that it fitted Blue's frame well, and was more comfortable for trail riding than the dressage saddles she had tried.

  The rain eased to a steady drizzle as the two ponies cantered along the laneway to the back paddock. The girls rode past the herd, grazing not far away from where they had seen them earlier. Now that they could see more clearly through the rain and mist Shelby could tell that something was wrong.

  A branch from one of the trees had come down in the heavy weather and settled across the back fence near the gate. The wire sagged under the strain, and the posts on either side tilted over until they were almost horizontal. Any of the horses could easily step over the fence if they wanted to, and get tangled in the wire as well.

  The two girls dismounted. Shelby held Blue and Scooter while Lindsey inspected the damage. She tried to push the branch off the wire, but it was too heavy. Mrs Edel would have to use her chainsaw to cut it into smaller pieces, then set the posts and restrain the wire.

  'What shall we do?' asked Shelby, blowing on her hands, which were numb with cold.

  'First we'll move the horses into the next paddock. Mum would kill me if they all got out. Then we'll come back and check the trails for Diablo.'

  'But how would Diablo get in here in the first place?' Shelby asked.

  'He probably didn't, but we should check,' her friend replied.

  Lindsey cantered Scooter up the hill, towards the next paddock, closer to the house. Her plan was to unlock the gate and then head around to the right to help Shelby push the horses through the opening.

  The two girls trotted around the back of the herd and zigzagged towards them. As they moved closer they slowed to a walk. If the herd started to run, they might panic and head in the wrong direction, and the girls would have to start all over again.

  A heavy thoroughbred mare with a scarred face glared at Blue and Shelby with her ears back, but she moved away when Shelby maintained eye contact and pushed Blue steadily towards her.

  The horses bunched in closer and moved up the hill towards the gate, slowing occasionally to steal a mouthful of grass along the way. Shelby and Lindsey kept up their steady zigzag pattern behind them.

  A gangly buckskin colt in the middle of the group shied at a tree stump, and the herd sped up around him, some slipping a little in the churned-up soil. Shelby and Lindsey halted their horses, waiting for the rest to settle down. They were not far from the gate now and the last thing they needed was for the herd to split.

  Up ahead a brown standardbred gelding pricked his ears forward and snorted. He could see the open gate and trotted towards it eagerly.

  'Horses are just natural busybodies, aren't they?' Lindsey commented.

  'Good thing too,' Shelby added.

  The other horses picked up the pace behind him, keen not to be left behind, and soon all the horses from the back paddock were safely behind sturdy fencing.

  The two girls raced down the hill to the back gate. There were many hoof prints on the trail on the other side of the broken fence, but they were shallow, blurred and washed out by the rain. It was impossible to tell if they were fresh.

  'Let's have a quick look along the trail and then head back. I don't think he'll be here,' Shelby called to her friend. 'He wouldn't leave the other horses.'

  'Unless there's a mare in season somewhere in the Gully, and that's not likely, is it?' Lindsey replied.

  Soon they were past the broken fence and on to the trails. There were three different paths branching away and they decided to head down each for a few hundred metres looking for new hoof prints in the mud, or fresh manure.

  First they headed along the path to the left. Both the girls and their horses knew the trails well and set off at a swift pace. Now that the rain had eased, and she was warmed by the exercise, Shelby started to enjoy herself. Blue pricked his ears forward and stretched out. Shelby grinned, knowing that her little pony loved having a job to do.

  After a few hundred metres they passed the storm water drain under Gully Way. The water was running quickly through the tunnel and Shelby could hear it cascading over the far edge and into the pool below. It made Shelby shiver, imagining plunging into that cold water.

  Next they tried the trail to the right of the gate. A few hundred metres along there was a left turn that looped around and joined the middle trail. The girls hadn't seen any sign of Diablo and so they took the left turn and soon they were headed back towards the stables. The ponies sped up as soon as they realised they were heading for home. On a long sandy straight Shelby rose up out of the saddle and Blue flattened out into a gallop.

  The wind whistled in her ears. Shelby looked over her shoulder at Lindsey and Scooter, twenty metres behind. Lindsey was grinning, but there was a gleam of competitiveness in her expression. She crouched over Scooter's shoulder and urged him on.

  They came around the corner and Blue's head shot up. He skidded, trying to slow down. A branch from one of the large gum trees that lined the path hung down across the trail. It was
at chest height for the girls – too high to jump and too low to go under. Blue was going too fast to avoid it.

  Shelby hunched over Blue's neck. She wasn't low enough. The branch was going to wipe her off the seat. There was no time to pull up, and if she turned suddenly, Scooter could crash into the back of them.

  Without thinking, Shelby swung her offside leg over the saddle and clung to Blue's side, gripping the saddle's horn with both hands. She ducked her head and closed her eyes. The tree trunk brushed against her shoulder and then she was through to the other side.

  Shelby clambered back into the saddle again, and Blue pulled up. She turned around. Lindsey had managed to slow Scooter down before he reached the branch.

  'Wow!' shouted Lindsey. 'That was a fancy manoeuvre!'

  'Yeah,' Shelby gasped. 'I'm glad this saddle didn't slip. I'm not quite sure how I did it, but it's a good thing I did!'

  5 Packing a Bag

  By the time the girls arrived back at the stables, Shelby's father was waiting to pick her up. Shelby sighed. She had forgotten that her family was going to visit her Aunty Jenny for the Easter weekend. Shelby was fond of her great-aunt, but she would much rather be staying with her friends, especially now that there was an emergency.

  'Can I stay at Lindsey's instead?' she asked.

  'Not a chance,' her father replied as he ushered her towards the car under his umbrella.

  'You don't understand, Dad. They need me! Diablo is gone. It's the biggest catastrophe ever.'

  'Honey, major catastrophes are an alarmingly frequent occurrence with you. I'm sure they'll make do.'

  Shelby rolled her eyes and waved to Lindsey with a regretful smile.

  'You know, Shelby, I worry about you,' her father said, as they turned out of the driveway. 'This horse thing has been an obsession for so long now. Shouldn't you be boy-crazy by now? Shouldn't I be chasing young men away with garden implements and forbidding you to go on dates with them?'

  'I'm going to have horses forever. Even when I'm in my fifties.'

  'That old, huh?'

  When they reached home Shelby's mother had their bags ready by the door. Her two younger brothers, Connor and Blake, were wrestling on the lounge room floor.

  'Oh, Shel, you'll have to jump in the shower,' her mother said. 'Be quick though. With this rain the traffic is going to be murder.'

  'What? Why?'

  'Because you're covered in mud and you stink like a stable floor,' her father replied. He pinched his nose. 'I didn't want to say anything while I was within striking range.'

  Shelby touched her cheek and was surprised to find flecks of mud had dried there. She sniffed her sleeve. It did have a rather horsey aroma. She hadn't noticed.

  The hot water beat against her shoulders and she breathed in the steamy air. Shelby squeezed some shampoo into the palm of her hand. Feeling was coming back into her toes now that they were warmer.

  Shelby worried about Diablo's disappearance. Her mind kept returning to it, like fingers to an itchy bite.

  Diablo was different to the other horses on the property – being the only stallion. Mrs Edel was fanat-ical about safety. His routine was upheld with strict consistency. His diet was monitored. Shelby weighed each scoop. His enclosure was out of bounds for everyone except the Edels and Shelby. It was almost like a church.

  She closed her eyes and tried to remember if she had seen anyone suspicious at the stables during the week, but she couldn't remember anyone out of the ordinary.

  Mrs Crook had been anxious and snappy. Hayley Crook and her horse Ditto were competing at the Royal Easter Show. The gelding had been staying in a box on site at Homebush, but Mrs Crook brought him back in the float on Good Friday afternoon for some peace and quiet in familiar surroundings.

  Shelby had stopped to talk to her in the breezeway behind Diablo's stable, where Mrs Crook was using her electric clippers.

  Ditto had nosed at the feed bucket in Shelby's hand, but it was empty.

  'Sorry there, fella. That was Diablo's tucker. You missed out.'

  'The mud is terrible,' Mrs Crook complained. 'By the time they get in the ring they're soaked and a mess. Sometimes I wonder if it's worth it. And people are so rude in the practice arena. Hayley has a sour look on her face half the time. I'm ready to give the whole business away, Shelby.' Mrs Crook frowned with con-centration while she ran the clippers over Ditto's wither. 'You should have seen the led classes. There was a Galloway with its mane hogged. Hogged!' She pursed her lips. 'Pink ribbons, bows and sequins all over the place. It's like a circus! There's no sense of tradition any more. I remember when it was all plain brown leather. That was when it was actually about the quality of the horses. One girl had her hair out! Flapping in the breeze! Standards are slipping.'

  Shelby grinned. 'Maybe you should become a judge, Mrs C.'

  They both paused as Mrs Edel drove through the breezeway with the poo vac attached to the quad bike, on her way to collect the manure from Diablo's paddock.

  Once the bike had passed Mrs Crook crouched down to tidy Ditto's fetlocks. 'Maybe I should! And then I'll know for sure that money is changing hands. I've always thought it. Do you know what irks me the most?' She went on before Shelby could answer. 'You see these fat horses fresh out of the paddock – nothing but a quick shampoo, and head to toe in raven oil, and they're winning classes! I saw a Riding Pony mare

  – this is at the Royal, mind you, not some country fair – with cellulite on her quarters like a bowl of porridge. I don't think she'd seen a day of work in her life. Atrocious! And they're winning broad ribbons!'

  'Terrible,' Shelby murmured.

  'That wouldn't happen if I was judging,' Mrs Crook said. 'You know, I might just look into that, Shelby.' Then she had unplugged her clippers and led Ditto back to his yard.

  Shelby was startled out of her recollection by a knock on the bathroom door.

  'Hurry up, Shel! It's time to go,' Connor yelled.

  'In a minute!' she answered.

  Turning her face into the stream of water, Shelby rinsed the last of the shampoo from her hair. She tried to remember who else she had seen around Diablo's yard, but nothing she recalled seemed unusual.

  Soon she was dried and dressing. She slipped a hooded jumper over her head and pulled on her joggers without bothering to retie the laces.

  Her mother had packed an overnight bag while Shelby was at the stables. She had a quick look through, thinking to herself that she was probably old enough to pack her own bag by now. Her mum had put in a skirt. Even though it was a couple of years old, it looked new because she had never worn it.

  Hayley and Erin would never trust their mothers with something as important as their wardrobe. If they were going away they would want to pack make-up too. Shelby still didn't have anything more than lip gloss, and that was more to do with windburn than fashion.

  Erin had just got into perfume, which Shelby thought was the most incredible waste of money. Why pay a hundred dollars for a scent, when a four-dollar deodorant would do a better job? Imagine what you could buy with the other ninety-six!

  Shelby wondered if there was something wrong with her because she never noticed that she smelt or was dirty and didn't care about clothes.

  That term at school, some of the girls in her year had started teasing her. They would whinny when she walked past, make clip-clop noises, or say things about her being immature.

  For Shelby school was just a place she went between being at the stables. And besides, Shelby had dreams for the future and goals to achieve, whereas those mean girls at school spent their time reading magazines about celebrities and obsessing about their hair, or their fingernails, so who was the most immature?