I got to my feet, opened the gate, and went into the paddock. Goliath was calmer now, standing beside the fence, his head hanging. As I approached he nickered, an anxious, questioning sound. I don't know much about horses, but this one didn't look like a killer. Frightened, yes, sides heaving, eyes rolled back. But not savage, not vicious. Not like a horse who had tried to kill his owner.
Tom scrambled up. "Stay away from that animal," he cried. "He's dangerous!"
"I don't think so," I said. I made a soft noise in my throat and reached up to stroke Goliath's neck under the long, rough hair of his mane. "That's a good boy. Steady now." I stood for a moment rubbing his shoulder, then slid my hand down his leg until I was kneeling and looking closely at his left foreleg, his hoof. I ducked in front and examined his right foreleg, his hoof. Then the hind legs, the hind hooves.
What I saw confirmed my suspicions. There was no blood on the horse, no physical evidence that he had touched Sadie. It wasn't proof that Olivia had struck her down, but the knowledge moved me one step closer to that conclusion.
"Damn it, China!" Tom had opened the gate and was coming at me. "Do you want the horse to kick you too?" At the sound of the loud voice, Goliath snorted and shied. I backed away, and Tom grabbed my arm.
"Damn bullheaded woman," he muttered. "That's all I need, to have you trampled by a killer horse."
I pulled free. "He's not a killer, Tom. If the horse did it, there'd be evidence embedded in the wound-dirt particles, straw, stuff like that. But it's clean, as clean as those hooves. The horse didn't do this. Somebody tried to kill her."
Tom gave a harsh, strangled laugh. "That's crazy, China."
I heard the wail of a siren. The ambulance was coming up the lane.
Chapter Fifteen
I wear my rue with a difference.
William Shakespeare Hamlet
I ran out of the barn, waving at the orange and white EMS ambulance. A few minutes later, two uniformed attendants, their faces grave and intent, were working swiftly and competently, taking Sadie's vital signs, starting an IV, conferring by cell phone with the hospital. In another couple of minutes, they were easing her onto a gurney. While I watched, I saw something small and silvery fall from her clothing onto the straw. I bent over to reach for it at the same moment that Tom did. I clasped his hand.
"Don't touch it," I commanded.
He froze, immobile, his eyes locked on mine. I let go of his hand and stood up. The attendants were watching us curiously. "Do you have a piece of paper?" I asked.
One of them fished in his shirt pocket and pulled out a card with carr county hospital printed across it. As they began to maneuver the gurney out of the stall, I knelt and slid the card under the object. It was a small silver cross- not a pendant, but a lapel pin-with some sort of emblem in the center. It was what I needed. The evidence that proved that Olivia had been in the barn with Sadie.
Tom glanced at it and looked away again. "It's just…" The words stopped. His mouth was drawn tight and I couldn't read his eyes. He cleared his throat as I folded the card into a square packet and put it carefully into the pocket
of my slacks. "It's just Sadie's cross. Why… are you going to all that trouble?"
"Because it might not be Sadie's cross. And the owner might have left prints on it." Confronted with the cross and the boarding pass I had found in the kitchen, maybe Olivia would confess.
One hand steadying the IV, the chief attendant turned. "We're ready to roll. Are you two riding with us?"
Tom scrambled to his feet. "We'll follow in my car."
I shook my head. "You follow. I'm going to notify the sheriff's office. I'll stay until Walters gets here."
Tom opened the gate and stood back so I could step out of the stall. His jaw was tight. "You're making more out of this than it is, China. Accidents happen all the time in ranch country. Walters isn't going to drive out here just to look at the place where Sadie got kicked in the head by a horse."
I stayed firm. "This is a crime scene, and that's how I'm going to report it. Walters needs to get his butt out here and do a search. There may be other evidence that could identify Sadie's attacker."
We reached the ambulance just as one of the attendants was climbing into the rear with Sadie. As the other closed the doors, I heard a cell phone buzz. The attendant spoke into it, listened, then turned to Tom. "If the dispatcher got the name right when you called in, you must be Tom Rowan?"
"Yeah. I'm Rowan."
"That was the hospital calling. You need to come with us, sir. Your father's just been admitted."
Tom looked as if he had been struck by lightning. ' 'Dad? But how… why…?"
"Sorry, sir. I don't have any details. We'll be running the lights and the siren. Stay with us."
Impulsively, I reached out to Tom. "Oh, Tom, I'm sorry. Your father's a fine man. He-"
"Yeah, sure." He pushed me away.
The attendants were already in the ambulance, revving the motor. Tom sprinted for his car and was gone.
When I got through to Stu Walters, he answered with gruff irritation. Being wrong about Dwight had obviously earned me no brownie points.
"What is it this time?" he growled.
"I'm at the M Bar M. Sadie Marsh has been attacked."
That got his attention. "Attacked?" I heard the scrape of a chair being shoved back. "Who attacked her?"
"Hard to say. Tom Rowan and I found her a little while ago, in a horse stall in the barn. Head wounds, serious. Tom says her horse kicked her. I think she was bludgeoned. EMS is taking her to the hospital now. The crime scene needs to be secured. And it would be best to have a forensic physician examine the wound before it's cleaned up and-"
"This ain't Houston, lady," he said, with barely disguised sarcasm. "We ain't got no forensic-"
I cut in. "Then tell the doctor who treats her to inspect the wounds carefully, save samples of any debris he removes, and be prepared to testify in court to the nature of the instrument used in the attack."
He was heated. "Now just a goldurned minute here! Who do you think you are to-"
"Excuse me, Deputy Walters," I said crisply. "I don't have time to argue this matter. I've found evidence that suggests that one of the sisters at St. Theresa's may be involved. I'd like your permission to talk to her informally and see if I can determine the extent of her involvement."
When he spoke at last, Walters was incredulous. "You're sayin' that one of them nuns bashed Sadie Marsh over the-"
"That's what I intend to find out," I said. "Unless, of course, you want to handle the questioning yourself. In that event, I'll be glad to arrange it." I paused, giving him time to catch up. "I'll stay with you while you interrogate her.
Of course, Mother Winifred will also want to be there, so she can report your questions to the Reverend Mother General. And perhaps we should tape the interview, just in case the bishop has any concerns." I paused again. "Although, come to think of it, the bishop will probably want to send one of his lawyers."
"His lawyers?"
"Of course. You don't think the bishop will allow a nun to be questioned by the police without-''
He interrupted. "Sounds to me like this mighta been an accident. 'Round here, folks is alius gettin' kicked. An' don't forgit that you screwed up that Dwight bidness, and you was real positive 'bout him."
I shifted uncomfortably. "Yes, but I have physical evidence that a certain nun was here last night."
"Well, it's yer hide."
"You're saying that I have your permission to question the woman?"