The Mystery of the Zorse's Mask (16 page)

I can hardly believe this. I think back to the times I stared at the back of her head, wishing she'd talk to me. And to think she was wishing the same thing! If we hadn't rescued kittens together, we wouldn't be friends.

“Once I tried to dye a pink stripe in my hair like yours,” I confess.

“Don't try to be like me.” She takes my hand and looks directly into my eyes. “I like the way you are and others do too. Wear your hair loose, put on comfy jeans, and go back to sitting with your other friends at lunch if you want.”

“I don't want to—I really like the Sparklers.”

“Even Tyla?” Becca asks doubtfully.

“Well … I'm working on it. But you're right. I'd rather wear jeans and T-shirts minus all the sparkles—except my necklace.” I reach up to trace the smooth crescent shape.

“Just be Kelsey,” Becca says as the car slows to drive under the archway announcing Wild Oaks Sanctuary. She unfastens her seat belt, then leans over to whisper in my ear. “I think you're the coolest girl ever.”

As I'm getting ready for bed that night, I can't stop smiling.

Becca thinks I'm cool.

This is better than every awesome holiday and birthday present combined. And I really do like who I am—not a sparkly girl, just plain Kelsey Case. If I'm in a ponytail mood, I'll wear one of Becca's hair ties. But otherwise, it's back to comfy T-shirts and jeans and my hair loose around my shoulders. I'm not going to be like anyone but me starting tomorrow.

Tomorrow
, I think with a jolt,
Zed will be gone
.

And we didn't solve the mystery of who abused him.

As I slip into my pajamas, question marks whirl though my head. We found the fly mask but we don't know who dropped the blue pen I labeled “Evidence A.” Did the shadow dude plan to rob the thrift store? Or was it a homeless person looking for a place to sleep?

That night, I toss and turn like the fairy-tale princess troubled by a tiny pea beneath her mattress. Only my troubles feel boulder sized. Who abused Zed? Why did Frankie spy on us? Will my father ever find a job? Who tried to break into the thrift store? What do the words on the blue pen mean?

Desert Sun Train … train, brain, rain, stain …

Questions whirl, spin and torment me until—

“That's it!” I jerk up in my bed.

I glance at my illuminated clock flashing 3:14 a.m. It's pitch-dark outside, but a light bursts bright inside my head. Clues add up and point to one person.

But I need proof.

Tossing a robe over my pajamas, I race from my room into the living room and power up the computer. I pull up a search engine and type a name.

A few links come up, but they don't match my suspect. I try a search combined with the word
horse
.

Bingo!

There is it!

I think back to when Becca first told us Zed's owner was coming to take him away. She suspected that Caleb Hunter was a fraud and didn't really own Zed. But Leo's web search confirmed Caleb Hunter did indeed live in Nevada, was the grandson of Zed's owner, and trained horses at D. S. Ranch.

D. S. Ranch
, I ponder.
Why does that ranch sound so familiar?

The more I look at D. S. Ranch, the more my brain tingles. Could D. S. stand for Desert Sun?
Desert Sun Train—
the words on the blue pen! Only it's “training,” as in someone who trains horses. Not a sand and dune desert, but a high desert of sage and chaparral.

Hello, Caleb Hunter: suspect number one.

But what's Caleb's motive? Is he more interested in Zed or the fly mask? He was eager to leave with Zed—until he found out the fly mask was missing. When Becca's mom told him the mask had been donated to the thrift store, he said he'd wait till Monday to look for it. Yet he didn't wait. He hid his identity like a thief and tried to break into the store. Only we scared him away, and he tripped over a turtle and dropped his blue pen. If I'd seen him the next day I bet he would have been limping.

Why go to so much trouble for a bejeweled fly mask? The answer is obvious—the jewels must be real and worth thousands. That would explain why Caleb is so eager to find the mask but not why he lied to us. Did he think we would keep the mask for ourselves if we thought it was valuable?

But Caleb wasn't the only one who said the jewels were fakes. Leo's authenticity test proved the jewels weren't real. How can I find out the truth? I can't believe anything Caleb says, and his grandmother is too ill to ask. Who else might know?

I go back to the computer and skim through the information on Caleb Hunter until my gaze stops on the name Carol Hunter-Bowling.

Caleb's sister.

Hunter-Bowling isn't a common name, so it's easy to search for her. She's a real estate agent and her website gives a business address, phone number, and email. I can't call in the middle of the night, but I can send an email.

Do I address it to Miss, Mrs., or Ms. Hunter-Bowling? A husband isn't mentioned, so I can't tell if she's single, married, or divorced. I settle on just her first name and hope that's okay.

Now what do I write? I need to let her know right away I'm a friend and not spammer. I should also say I'm sorry her grandma may be dying, but tactful like, not a blunt, “Is your grandma dead yet?” And I want to ask if the fly mask jewels are real.

I start off with “I like your zorse,” then hit delete and replace it with “My friend has your grandma's zorse.” Hmmm, still doesn't work. So I rewrite again, adding three words. Next I type, “I hope your grandma is feeling bitter.” Oops, typo. I change “bitter” to “better.” I add two more sentences and it seems perfect—until I realize I called the zorse “Zed” instead of “Domino.” Another rewrite and I'm done.

Dear Carol,

My friend has been caring for your grandma's zorse. I hope your grandma is feeling better. She'll be happy when your brother returns Domino. I have some questions about the fly mask. Can you call or email me?

Sincerely,

Kelsey Case

I add my phone number, then hit send.

When I crawl back under my covers, I fall into a sleep so deep that I don't wake up until I hear Mom calling my name.

“Kelsey, Kelsey!” I open one sleepy eye and see my mother peeking into my room. “Why aren't you up yet?”

Slowly, I sit up in bed and stretch out my arms.

“You have a phone call,” Mom says, holding out the phone to me. “It's Becca, and she sounds upset. Let me know if there's anything I can do for her.”

“I will.” I jump out of bed and take the phone.

“Becca, what's up?” I say into the phone as the door thuds shut behind Mom.

“Something terrible has happened,” Becca says, her voice cracking. “I got up early and went to the Skunk Shack—”

“The kittens!” I interrupt. “Are they okay?”

“They're fine. But when I went to get the fly mask, it was gone.” I hear tears in her voice. “The fly mask has been stolen.”

Chapter 18

A Shocking Call

“Mom!” I shout as I rush down the hall. Her bedroom door is open, and she's standing in front of her free-standing mirror, holding up a blue pleated skirt and matching vest.

“Is Becca okay?” Mom drops the clothes on her bed and comes over to put her arm around me. “When I talked to her last night, she seemed stressed.”

“She's not hurt or anything, but she's having a crisis and wants me to come over.”

Mom frowns. “I can't drive you because I have an important appointment.”

“I can get there quickly on my bike.” I look up at her hopefully. “Can I go?”

“Of course. If Becca needs you, you have to go to her.”

Then you know what my mother does? She calls my school to say I'll be late.

“You're the best,” I say and give her the biggest hug ever.

I consider calling Leo, but I'm sure Becca already texted him about the theft. He's probably on his way to her house.

Hurriedly, I slip into the first pair of jeans I find and put on a comfy green T-shirt. As I reach for my backpack, I notice the yarn sunflower on my dresser. I grab it for luck. I need all the luck I can get today.

Slinging my backpack over my shoulder, I race downstairs. Dad is flipping bacon chocolate chip pancakes (a combo that's surprisingly yummy), and he insists I take one. I curl one in my hand like a pancake-burrito and start for the door.

It's chilly and wind flings my hair around my face. As the door shuts behind me, I hear the phone ringing, but it's hardly ever for me, so I hurry down the stairs for the apartment's bike rack.

I'm unlocking my bike chain when I hear Mom shout my name. I look up to find her leaning against the second-floor rail and waving the phone.

It must be Becca!
I think anxiously as I race back up the stairs.
Has she found the fly mask?

When I put the phone to my ear, I hear a strange woman's voice.

“Is this Kelsey Case?” She sounds about Mom's age.

“Yes.” I bite my lip as I glance down at my watch. “I'm in a hurry …”

“So am I,” the woman says firmly. “I just read your email.”

“Email?”

“You sent it last night … well, this morning,” she adds. “I'm Carol Hunter-Bowling.”

“Oh!” I almost stumble down the stairs. “Caleb's sister.”

“Unfortunately.” Her voice drips bitterness. “I was shocked by your email. I thought Domino was dead.”

“He's very much alive. Didn't your brother tell you?”

“We don't talk,” she says bluntly. “You wrote that Cal was bringing Domino home to our grandmother?”

“Yes.” I smile, imagining the happy reunion. “My friend Becca—she lives at the Wild Oaks Sanctuary—has been caring for Ze … I mean … Domino for over six months, and he's doing great. His scars are healed and Becca can even ride him. She really loves him.”

“I'm glad someone there does, because my brother doesn't.”

I switch the phone to my other ear to make sure I heard right. “Caleb told us he was heartbroken when Domino ran away.”

“Of course he told you that,” Carol says sarcastically. “Cal is very good at saying what people want to hear.”

“What do you mean? Caleb cares a lot about the zorse. And he's worried about his grandma. He almost cried when he spoke about her being so sick … maybe dying.”

“Grandma was in bad shape after the stroke, but now she's getting around on a walker and the doctor says she can move back to the ranch soon. She's reluctant to go home though, because Domino isn't there.”

“Caleb is bringing him back today,” I point out.

“I'll believe it when I see it,” Carol says doubtfully. “I don't know what scheme my brother is up to, but I don't trust him—especially with the zorse.”

“I don't understand. He showed us photos of your family with the zorse, and everyone looked happy together. He trains horses, so he must love animals.”

“Cal
is
good with horses, and he's a decent horse trainer. But a zorse is
not
a horse and can't be forced to learn.” Her voice rises with anger. “Grandma warned Caleb over and over not to use harsh training techniques on Domino. But my brother couldn't get that through his thick head.”

“He tried to train Zed … I mean, Domino?”

“Yes, even after Grandma ordered him to stay away from Domino. My brother is not a terrible person, but he has a terrible temper. And his pride couldn't take being bested by an animal. He tried to force Domino into submission with brute force. I don't blame Domino for fighting back.”

Even though I'm afraid to ask, I do anyway. “What happened?”

“My brother whipped Domino.”

I gasp, remembering Becca describing how Zed had been beaten. “No! Caleb was the one who did that? But I thought Zed ran away because he was spooked by an ambulance, then was hurt during the months he was missing.”