Free Deadfall by Lyndon Stacey

questions?’
    Josie stopped sweeping and looked at him. ‘I don’t suppose so, but what for? They’ve already spoken to the police.’
    â€˜I don’t know, really. I just feel so frustrated that nothing seems to be happening. It doesn’t look as though the police have turned anything up yet, or if they have, they’re keeping it very quiet. Anyway, it can’t do any harm, and it might just do some good, you never know.’
    â€˜Mmm, I suppose. I’ll pop up to the house and get the number for you.’
    When Linc visited Abby’s friends in his lunch break they were happy to help but had little of any significance to tell him. The thieves had broken into their tackroom from the back, in the early hours of the morning. Out of sight of the house they had levered and broken several planks and then made off with three complete sets of tack and a number of fairly new winter rugs, including two straight off the horses’ backs, leaving themunprotected and shivering in the cold night air.
    â€˜They hit the Jenkinses’ place, just down the road, the same night,’ Linc was told. ‘They didn’t get much there, though, ’cause Mrs Jenkins and two of the girls were away on a course – horses, tack and all.’
    Given directions, Linc decided to call on the Jenkinses straight away and walked into their expensive-looking yard just as the farrier was leaving. The stables were built in a C-shape, separated from the house by a small turnout paddock, and had obviously been positioned so the horses were visible from the Jenkinses’ home. Unfortunately this meant the tackroom door faced away from it, as did the open-fronted haystore next to it.
    A slim, thirty-something woman in jeans and a guernsey, with blonde hair scraped back in a loose ponytail, was helping a teenage edition of herself saddle a breedy pony. Linc introduced himself and explained his mission.
    â€˜I see. Well, I’m afraid we can’t be a lot of help,’ the woman said, frowning slightly as she squinted into the April sunshine. ‘Although we were broken into, there wasn’t much to take. My two older daughters and myself were on a dressage course at Stockbridge and Cara had Dandy’s tack in the house to clean while watching telly. She’s not normally allowed to do that when I’m here but as luck would have it, it was fortunate that she did.’
    â€˜Do you know what time you were broken into? Did anyone see anything at all? Even the littlest detail might turn out to be important.’
    â€˜No, I’m sorry. The police were very thorough but they couldn’t find anything. We think it wasabout one o’clock in the morning. Our neighbour heard a vehicle start up when she got up to let her dog out but didn’t think anything of it until she heard what had happened. My husband was here with Cara and her brother but their bedrooms are at the front of the house and, as you see, it’s a fair way off. We’ve actually got an alarm but
somebody
forgot to turn it on, it seems.’
    Cara squirmed under her mother’s accusing gaze and muttered something sulkily. It was obviously a sore point between them.
    â€˜Ah well, it was worth asking,’ Linc said regretfully. ‘It seems to be the same story everywhere.’
    â€˜Have you been robbed too?’ Mrs Jenkins asked.
    Linc told her about the Hathaways and Abby’s plight, and her reaction was the usual mixture of shock and pity. She didn’t know Abby well, she said, but as a mother she could imagine how Mrs Hathaway must feel.
    Absent-mindedly, Linc promised to pass on her best wishes and took his leave, but instead of turning for home, he drove the Discovery a few yards down the road and pulled into a field gateway. He’d been watching Cara Jenkins as he was speaking to her mother, and could have sworn he’d surprised a flash of guilt in her eyes. It was so fleeting that