8th Day Read online

  "Good. I knew you'd like it here. I understand you ride, too."

  Obviously, not much went unnoticed at the camp. I'd have to be careful. I nodded and swallowed some green beans. Pat had cooked them in chicken broth with bacon and onions, just the way I liked them. "I got to meet Clutch," I said. "He let me ride this morning. I'd forgotten how much I like riding. Can hardly walk, though. My thighs aren't used to it."

  Ida laughed. "So he told me. You just missed the stable crew. They're always first in line for meals. Surprised they leave anything for the rest of us." She looked at Nurse Beckett and patted her hand. "Oh, go on and get a piece. It ain't gonna kill you."

  Nurse Beckett colored and stood up, gathering her tray. "I don't know what you're talking about," she said, carrying her tray to the counter. Ida pushed herself up from the table and followed, chuckling the whole way.

  Lacy used her fork to skim a little of the whipped cream off the top of my pie and daintily licked at it with the tip of her tongue.

  "Nurse Beckett's a little paranoid about cholesterol and fat," she said. "But she's not as uptight as she comes off. She got drunk as a skunk at the Christmas party last year. You shoulda seen her. The way she was hanging all over Coach, it was hilarious. She even got Doc to dance."

  "Sounds like fun," I said, slowing down on my lunch. "So, does she have a thing for Coach? He doesn't really seem her type."

  She laughed. "In case you haven't noticed, there's not a whole lot of eligible bachelors around here. Even Coach probably looks pretty good after enough Christmas punch."

  "Doesn't sound like you're too enamored, though."

  "Me? No way. Not after the way he treated Annie." As soon as she said it, I could tell she regretted it. She put down her fork and dabbed at her mouth with her napkin, looking chagrinned.

  "Coach and Annie Sisson were an item?"

  "Shhh," she whispered, glancing around. She took a sip of her Pepsi. "It wasn't exactly common knowledge. But yeah, they were dating."

  "But why would they have to hide that? I mean, they're both adults, right?"

  "I guess it's because Coach is kind of like one of the bosses here. Doc, Ida, Clutch, Ben and Coach are like the administrators. The other teachers and counselors might think Annie was getting special privileges or something if they knew she was dating Coach. So they kept it quiet."

  "But you knew," I said, pushing my pie toward Lacy who thought for several seconds before she retrieved her fork and dug in.

  "Annie was my friend," she said between mouthfuls. "I found her crying one day and knew something was wrong. Once she started talking, it just all came out. The way Coach treated her one way in private, then was cold to her in public. The way he made promises that he kept breaking. And then the last straw was — Annie thought he might be seeing someone else. She wouldn't say who, but I knew she was really upset about it. I think that's why she left, if you want to know the truth. I think Coach gave her the cold shoulder and she just packed up and left before he broke her heart any more."

  "Makes sense," I said. "Maybe she caught him with whoever else he was seeing."

  "Exactly! That's what I think must have happened. If I knew who it was, I'd sure like to give them a piece of my mind!"

  "No ideas?" I probed.

  "Not really. Not that I haven't thought about it, but I keep drawing blanks."

  "Any chance it was a student?" I asked.

  "A student?" she echoed, looking genuinely taken aback. "Not even Coach would go that far," she said. "It's one thing to date a teacher. You know how fast Doc and Clutch would kick him out of here if they even thought he was screwing around with a student? Coach may be selfish, but he's not stupid."

  With that, the bell clanged, signaling the beginning of the afternoon sessions and both Lacy and I rushed toward our classrooms.

  The highlight of my second two-hour class, a repeat more or less of the first one, was that Maddie Boone was in it. I was eager to see which writing assignment she'd choose and what she'd say about herself. I was surprised to discover that though among the youngest at the camp, she was nonetheless one of the brightest. She also seemed to be studying me as carefully as I was her. Was it because I'd replaced her teacher and she resented me for it? Or had I somehow telegraphed my curiosity about her, rousing her own curiosity in turn?

  She chose to write a poem, and though brief, it was, if not exactly illuminating, at least intriguing.

  my strengths, in case you want to hear

  are truly weaknesses I fear

  the things I think I do the best

  are secretly what I detest

  the parts that others want to change

  those are among my favorite things

  so who's to say what weakness is or which ones we should just forgive and who's to say what makes us strong for all we know, they could be wrong!

  by Maddie Boone

  She may not have revealed many details, I thought, but I was impressed by a thirteen year-old who understood that her weaknesses were also her strengths, and vice versa. I knew a lot of adults who had never conquered that concept, myself included, at times. She could also use rhyme better than all of the rappers in both classes put together. Knowing her penchant for hidden messages, I read the poem several times, looking for something that might help me unravel the mystery of Miss Sisson. In the end, I decided to just appreciate the poem for what it revealed about Maddie.

  When the bell rang to end class, I asked Maddie to stay after for a minute.

  "Why?" she asked, looking troubled.

  A few of the other kids were still loitering near the door.

  "Just wanted to go over your poem with you. No big deal."

  "I'm supposed to meet Dr. Biscane," she said, backing toward the door. "He doesn't like us to be late for appointments."

  "Maybe later, then," I said, trying to put her at ease. She definitely seemed spooked about something. I watched her walk away, wondering if I should just go ahead and tell her who I was and why I was there. That is, if I ever got the chance to talk to her alone.

  Chapter Eleven

  After the afternoon class, I spent some time reading the kids' papers and sorted them into three piles. Those who bragged, those who showed shame or guilt and those who did neither. Maddie's was an example of the latter. She wasn't particularly proud of herself, but she wasn't sold on anyone else either. Some of the kids degraded themselves to the point of being pitiful. A few of them listed faults and weaknesses until they ran out of room, never getting to their strengths at all. On the other hand, there were some like Belinda Pitt who were so taken with themselves they wouldn't recognize a weakness if it hit them over the head. I decided to start with that group — partly because it was the smallest pile — partly because of the sociopaths and criminals I'd run up against, most were braggarts. If Miss Sisson really had been murdered and it was a student who did it, I was putting my money on the sociopaths. Of course, so far I'd only seen half the kids in camp. Tomorrow, I'd give the same assignment to the other half.

  I swung by the cabin and decided to spruce up a bit, meaning I showered for a second time that day and changed into my favorite blue pullover that Erica Trinidad always said matched my eyes. With a start, I realized that I'd scarcely thought about Erica all day. This was definitely progress, I thought, taking a little extra time with my hair.

  Without really meaning to, I made a mental comparison between Erica and Jo Bell. One was dark and sensually feminine, the other fair and, what? Masculine? Not really. But she'd passed as a boy, hadn't she? Why was that? With her short blonde hair brushed back off her forehead like that, and the cowboy hat and the jeans and flannel, she looked just like the other cowboys on the ranch. Yet you couldn't say she wasn't sensual. You couldn't say she wasn't graceful. At first glance, Jo Bell and Erica Trinidad might seem opposites. But there were similarities as well — riveting eyes and graceful hands, high cheek bones and great smiles. This was ridiculous, I chastised myself.

  St
ill, there was no denying the attraction. Maybe it had been the shock of seeing her breasts when I'd been expecting a boy. Maybe it was the way her eyes acknowledged the look on my face when our eyes met. Hell, I thought. Maybe I was just plain lonely.

  I shook the thought from my head. I didn't have time to think about Jo, let alone Erica Trinidad, or any other woman. I hurried down the now-familiar path to the stables, passing kids along the way who were enjoying the free hour before the late afternoon team activities.

  When I got to the stables, I practically ran smack into Maddie Boone who was just coming out of one of the tack rooms, something concealed in her right hand.

  "Hey, nice poem," I said.

  She glanced up, surprised.

  "You really read it?"

  "Of course I read it. I thought you showed a lot of insights. I believe my strengths are my weaknesses, too."

  "Yeah? Like what?" she asked. She graced me with a dark, challenging look and strode off toward one of the corrals where a black colt was charging back and forth, frolicking in the afternoon sunshine. I followed behind her.

  "Like, I tend to be pretty quick to catch onto things. That's a strength, right?"

  She looked at me and shrugged, opened her fist and held out a sugar cube in an open palm and whispered to the colt. "Come on, Shadow Dancer. Come on, boy."

  "But, it also makes me kind of impatient when others aren't as quick. That's a weakness. See?"

  She looked at me again, this time acknowledging that what I said made sense.

  "What else?" she said, clearly testing me.

  "I'm a good talker. Some people might see that as a strength. On the other hand, people who are good talkers are often lousy listeners. I have to work on it."

  She snuck another sideways glance at me. "That's a good one." She nodded her head like she'd run into lots of lousy listeners in her time.

  The colt pretended not to be interested in her outstretched hand, though it managed to mosey in her direction just the same. Maddie was showing a considerable amount of patience.

  "You like horses?" she asked.

  "Yeah. You?"

  "Some. I like this one. I named him Shadow Dancer."

  I studied the colt. "It suits him. He's quite a horse."

  "Thank you," she said solemnly. Like she'd given birth to the horse herself. It occurred to me that Maddie was lonely. This horse was probably her closest companion at the camp. Probably the only one she trusted, too. Shadow Dancer had finally worked his way within nudging distance but still pretended to be more interested in pawing the ground than sniffing the sugar.

  "I know you want this, boy. You know you want this. Quit playing games."

  As if he'd heard her, the colt straightened up and arched his neck toward her open palm, nostrils flaring. He curled his lip, showing large yellow teeth and he made a soft nickering sound before gently pursing his lips onto her palm and slurping up the proffered lump of sugar.

  "Good boy," she said, gingerly running her fingers down the bridge of his nose before he backed away. "That's the second time he's let me touch him," she said excitedly, her eyes shining.

  "He obviously likes you," I said. "Maddie, there's something I need to talk to you about."

  She glanced at me, her eyes suddenly clouded. Then she jumped down off the fence just as the bell announcing the end of free time chimed in the distance.

  "Gotta go. See you tomorrow!" she said, loping off down the path. I wasn't sure if she was talking to me or Shadow Dancer.

  "Maddie!" I called after her, but she didn't turn around.

  "She's quite a kid, isn't she?" Grade's voice startled me and I wheeled around.

  "She sure is. Kinda reminds me of this colt. Wild-eyed, ready to bolt, but full of promise, too. She's smart as a whip, Gracie. You should read the poem she wrote today."

  "You find out anything about Annie Sisson?"

  "Not from Maddie. She won't let me talk to her. I've got to find a way to get her to trust me. I do know Annie was seeing Coach on the sly."

  "Really? Hmmm. I wonder if Jo knows that. I told her who we are and what we're up to. She's anxious to talk to you."

  "You sure we can trust her?"

  "We gotta trust someone, Cass. I'll put my money on the horse whisperer every time. Besides, I got the feeling you were kinda taken with her yourself."

  I ignored her probing look. "Just took me by surprise, that's all. I wasn't expecting her to be a woman." But I knew as I said it that there was more to my reaction to Jo than surprise. I was pretty sure Gracie knew it, too.

  "Yeah. Kinda threw me, too. When I heard the name, I just assumed it was Joe. But the way she moves... I don't know, Cass. I must be losing my touch."

  I laughed. "Come on, let's go find out what she knows."

  I kept pace with Grade's long strides up the hill toward the edge of the pasture where Jo's cabin sat off by itself. It was a nice sunny spot with an herb garden in back and a porch swing out front. From the porch, you could see the stables back to the south, most of the meadows as far north as the distant gorge and the rich forestland to the west. Most of the other ranch hand's cabins were hidden in the trees along the stream, giving Jo's place a sense of privacy.

  When we got there, Jo was outside, looking much stronger than she had earlier.

  "Feeling better?" I asked.

  "Pretty good, actually. They're mostly just scratches. Got a pretty good bruise on my backside, though. Nurse Beckett checked me over. Said Gracie did a good job. Clutch gave me the day off, too, so it's not all bad." She grinned and I was struck again by how attractive I found her. She was definitely boyish, but there was a supple grace about her that was undoubtedly feminine.

  "You all want a cup of tea? Or a glass of wine? I've got a bottle of Pinot Noir open that's pretty nice."

  Gracie looked at me, then shrugged. "I'm through working for the day," she said.

  "How about you, Cassidy?" Jo asked.

  "A glass of wine would be nice."

  Gracie and I settled into a pair of Adirondack chairs on the porch while Jo went to fetch the wine. When she came out, she handed me a short juice glass half-filled with the berry-colored wine, and her fingers grazed my hand. It lasted less than a second, but the effect was electric. Her gaze locked with mine and I knew she felt it, too. Once again, I felt heat rush to my cheeks. Jo seemed as startled as I was by the exchange and turned away to give Gracie a glass, then sat back in the porch swing, taking a sip from her own.

  "Sorry I can't offer you something fancier. My wine glasses are packed away in storage."

  "This is fine," I assured her, taking a sip of the wine. It was surprisingly full-bodied, with a hint of tannin and a lot of grape. "You sure you should be drinking?" I asked. "I doubt the nurse would approve."

  "Nurse Beckett? Shoot, Cassidy, she wouldn't approve of a Diet Coke."

  Jo's voice was low and melodic, with a twinge of southern in it. I wondered where she was from. And what she was doing at Camp Turnaround. "Gracie tells me you two are up here snooping around," she said, beating me to the punch.

  "She tell you why?"

  "Little Maddie Boone thinks something bad happened to Annie Sisson. That someone killed her."

  "What do you think?" I asked.

  "There was so much going on that night, anything's possible, I guess. It's usually pretty quiet here in the evenings, but the night before Annie disappeared Maddie took off running. Coach usually lets the kids stay gone a while, gives them a chance to find out that they can't get far. Also scares the hell out of them, spending a night in the woods. Personally, I think he ought to go right after them. One of these days, someone's going to run into a cougar out there. But no one argues with Coach. Ever since he became part of the staff, he's kind of taken over."

  "You were here before Coach was on staff?" I asked, wondering how old she was. When I'd thought she was a boy, she looked about seventeen. Now I realized she could be in her late twenties.

  She leaned back i
n her swing and gave herself a little push, bringing her long legs up into her lap, Indian style, in one graceful motion. "Hell, Cass. I was here when Coach was a still a student."

  This took both Grade and me by such surprise that Grade nearly choked on her wine.

  "Coach was a student here?" I managed.

  "Yep. Same time I was. Though I was just a kid and he was eighteen. Word was, he'd been here quite a few years. Doc sort of adopted him, let him stay beyond his normal graduation date. He was a House Leader, back then. I guess he never left. I was as surprised to find him working here as you are to find out he was once a student."

  The truth was, I was just as shocked to find out that she had been a student.

  "How long were you here?" Grade asked.

  "Long enough to get straightened out. Doc's worth his weight in gold. I'd been to a few child psychologists before and I've been to a few shrinks since. Never had one as good as Doc. He uses hypnotherapy. Does regressions. He got me to remember some things I'd stored away — completely blocked out. Anyway, once I figured out why I was so angry, I learned to channel the anger. The anger didn't go away, but I quit taking it out on the wrong people."

  She seemed unselfconscious about revealing all this and I admired her frankness. "So how long have you been back? As an employee, I mean?"

  "The last couple of years I've hired on during spring foaling and stayed a few months to help Clutch with the colts. He saves this little cabin for me because he knows I like to garden a little. Summers, I move around the tourist spots, trying to sell my work. I winter in Seattle, which is crazy because it rains there most of the winter, but if I were somewhere warmer, I might be outside playing instead of painting."

  "The watercolors inside are yours?" I asked. Now, I was really impressed.

  "You noticed them?"

  "Are you kidding? They're really good. Really."

  Jo blushed. Gracie stood up to pace the porch, anxious to get back on topic.

  "So you said Coach didn't go after Maddie until the night Annie Sisson left?" I prompted.

  "Right. So Maddie was out there about twenty-four hours on her own, plenty of time to get lost or in trouble. I kept my porch light on that night and kept my ears and eyes open, hoping she'd come back on her own. Sometimes they do. But the next day, she was still AWOL. Coach waited until just after sundown the next night, then took off on his horse, trailing a pony for the kid. It was a couple of hours later that everything else started happening."