Page 54 of High Density

“Was she not tied up when you found her?” I ask the deputy.

He shakes his head. “No, he was…I meanshewas loose. I was patrolling the perimeter when she came out of the trees. She looked a bit spooked.”

She certainly seems to be with her eyes darting around, her flared nostrils, and her ears twitching back and forth.

“Her rope is torn,” Janey points out. “Looks like maybe something scared her and she broke away. She could’ve easily ripped those stitches on a branch or something, if she darted into the trees.”

It’s possible, but something about this is nagging me. For one thing, the fact she’s wearing a bridle tells me someone was riding her. Bareback, obviously, which would suggest someone who’s very familiar with the horse. Also, when Janey carefully probes the reopened cut, I notice some of the blood coating her shoulder appears to be dry.

“This didn’t just happen,” I suggest. “It looks like she’s been bleeding for a while, since most of it has dried already.”

Janey brushes her fingertips over the stain on the horse’s hide.

“You’re right. Some of this is at least several hours old.”

Several hours.

I wonder where her owner is?

Janey

“Have you heard anything?”

Logan crouches down beside me and hands me the wrap I asked for, a hopeful expression on his face.

“No, I haven’t.”

His face falls immediately. Poor kid.

He’d been all starry-eyed yesterday when he returned after walking the pretty girl back to her trailer to check on her horse’s vaccination records. Apparently, he’d asked her out and they’d agreed to meet up tonight after her barrel race.

Except, Lacey Del Franco is nowhere to be found.

JD took off with the deputy to look for her, while I took the horse back to our improvised clinic so I could fix her up. Logan had wanted to go looking as well, but Sheriff Ewing—who’d apparently been called in and stopped by to ask a few questions—suggested he’d probably be of more use sticking with me.

The pointed look the sheriff shot me after his comment turned the granola bar I’d just scarfed down into a lump of concrete in my stomach. I don’t think Logan read the same implications into it I did, which is a good thing. The only reason my mind immediately went to the two murdered women is because JD told me about finding the first body, and the subject of the second girl came up when the sheriff and Agent Kramer showed up at my house two nights ago. I don’t think any of it is public knowledge yet.

To keep Logan distracted, I sent him to pick up some more supplies at the clinic. Only the first official rodeo day and already we’re running low on stretch bandages. This is the fourth horse that was brought in lame, and these are only the kids’ barrel races.

Great fun for the kids, but unfortunately, because some of their horses aren’t necessarily trained for the kind of strain barrel racing puts on their legs—with the abrupt stops and sharp turns—they’re easily injured.

“I’m sure she’ll show up,” I add, trying to sound encouraging, even though I’m pretty concerned myself.

Then I hand him back the roll of bandages.

“You know what? Why don’t you finish this one? I need a bathroom break and a bottle of water. Can I grab you something?”

“Water is fine,” he mumbles distractedly.

“Remember to use padding, start high, wrap from front to back and outside to inside, and then back up. Even pressure.”

If you don’t wrap right, you can cause more problems.

“I know.”

I can almost hear the eye roll in his response and suppress a smile.

The restrooms are packed—lots of moms with kids about to pee their pants—and I’m getting a little worried myself by the time a stall opens up. This is the first bathroom break I’ve taken all day and it’s been hot, so I’ve been drinking a lot of water to stay hydrated.

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