Tom was back. "They're on their way," he said. He glared at Goliath, who was standing, head hanging, in the nearby stall. "I ought to shoot that animal. He's always been vicious. Don't know why Sadie keeps him around."
Sadie moaned and stirred and I bent over her. "Sadie," I said into her ear. "Just be still. Help is on the way. You're going to be all right."
Her eyelids nickered. She tried to speak but the words wouldn't form. Her eyes closed.
Tom dropped to his knees and took her hand. "How is she?" he asked.
"She came around for a minute, but she's out again."
His face tensed, jaw muscles working. "Did she say anything?"
I shook my head and stood up. "She's in shock. We need blankets."
"You go," he said. "I'll stay with her." Holding her hand, he bent over her. "Sadie," he whispered urgently. "Sadie, can you hear me? You're safe now. The horse can't get you."
I sprinted. In the bedroom, I tossed aside a purple bathrobe and grabbed two blankets off the unmade bed. I was on my way back through the kitchen when I saw the white envelope on the table. I grabbed it and jammed it into the
pocket of my slacks. Then, just outside the door, I saw something lying on the ground and picked it up. It was a white and blue rectangle, immediately recognizable. It was an airline boarding pass with Olivia's name on it.
I stared at it. When I'd first seen Olivia driving die Honda last night, turning into St. Theresa's lane a little after ten, she had been coming from the direction of the M Bar M. In the parking lot, she had been frantic, half-hysterical. She'd practically run away from me. And now I knew why.
I knew that Olivia had been here last night, with Sadie. She had come here straight from the airport and fresh from her discussion with the Reverend Mother General. And I knew what the two women had said to one another. I could see them sitting at the kitchen table talking, could imagine Olivia's pleas for time, her desperate efforts to persuade Sadie not to reveal the deed restrictions. I could hear her begging Sadie to give her a chance to work out some sort of deal.
And I could imagine Sadie's response. She'd have been impassive and poker-faced at first. She'd have hidden her enjoyment of Olivia's frantic pleas. But in the end she wouldn't have been able to conceal her triumph at having Olivia and the order exactly where she wanted them. I could see, as clearly as if I'd been here, Olivia's fear, her tightfisted anger, and finally her fierce, uncontrollable outrage. I could hear Sadie's chuckle, spiraling into a derisory laugh, and picture Olivia's face, wrenched with passion-
But could I imagine Olivia following Sadie out to the barn? Could I picture her smashing her victim in the head, then dragging her into the stall? Could I see her, ignited by a compelling sense of purpose and inflamed by a vision of-
Yes, I could. Bloody hands have administered the sacraments and bloody hearts have ruled the Church. Bloody murders in the name of all that's holy are woven into the history of Christianity. It didn't take much imagination to
see Olivia transfigured, in a moment of raging impotence, mto an instrument of vengeance.
But neither this boarding pass nor my testimony about Olivia's behavior in the parking lot would be enough to convince a jury that a woman who had spent her life serving God had suddenly gone berserk and attempted to murder her neighbor. Evidence that she had been in her victim's kitchen wasn't enough. Evidence that she had been in the barn with Sadie-that was what I needed.
Back in the stall, I spread the blankets over Sadie's motionless body. ' 'Any change?'' I asked breathlessly.
Tom shook his head, his face strained, eyes shadowed. "Her pulse is erratic. Her breathing's shallow. She'll be lucky to pull through. Damn horse-I'll see that he's shot!"
I pulled the blanket up and turned her head slightly. 'Tom, look," I said. "Sadie is taller than I am, and Goliath isn't all that big. Could he have inflicted these wounds?"
"He could have if she was down." He nodded toward a bucket of half-spilled oats in the corner. "See? She came in here to feed him and bent over with the bucket. Something spooked him and he reared up. Sure, he could kill her. Those forelegs are like sledgehammers."
"But if he'd got her down, would he have stopped at that?" I asked. "She was helpless, bleeding. He'd surely have trampled her. But there's not another mark on her body. And when we came in, the horse was as far away from her as he could get, at the back of the stall."
Tom's face was grim. "Are you suggesting it wasn't the horse?''
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.