Free Whirlwind by Alison Hart Page B

flirtations. It had been two days, and still there was no word from M. Baylor. Jas was losing patience.
    Grabbing the utility scissors, she attacked another section of carpet. She sawed and snipped until her hand ached.
    “Where do you want these?” Chase hollered about twenty minutes later.
    “These what?” She looked over her shoulder.
    Chase slid two boxes through the doorway. “Dishes.”
    “Dishes?” Jas stood, groaning at the pain in her knees. Chase took a running start and leaped into the living room, landing beside her. “Who brought them?” she asked.
    “Mrs. Quincey.”
    “Oh, her.” Jas knew her as “the old lady who volunteered in the office Monday mornings.” Bending, she poked through the silverware, dishes, glasses, hot mitts, and cooking utensils. “That was really nice.”
    “She’s moving into assisted living and needs to get rid of her kitchen stuff.”
    “That’s
really
nice.” Jas held up a blue-rimmed plate. “At High Meadows Farm, no one was nice.”
    Pulling out a hand beater, Chase whirled it next to her ear. “No one?”
    “Grandfather, of course, and Grandmother when she was alive.” Carefully, Jas unwrapped two flower-painted glasses and set them on a cupboard shelf. “And Phil Sparks, I guess.When my grandmother died, Hugh got meaner. Maybe when she was alive, she’d forced him to be human.”
    “So even
you
were meaner then?” Chase handed her a plate.
    She ignored his teasing. “Not mean. Just
not nice
. Now that I look back, I see that living there was changing me.”
    “You were turning into a mini Hugh!” Chase gasped with horror.
    “Are you ever serious?” Jas poked him with a spatula, then placed it in a drawer. “I’m trying to say something profound here.”
    “Mini Hugh wasn’t profound?”
    “Actually it was. Maybe Whirlwind ‘dying’ was the best thing that ever happened to me. It got me away from there.”
    “Plus it got you sent to Second Chance Farm. Where I met you,” Chase said. His back was to her as he reached up to put a plate on the shelf, so she couldn’t see his face. But she could tell by his voice that for once he wasn’t joking.
    “That too,” she said, realizing how fast her heart was suddenly beating. Quickly, she banged shut the drawer. “I’ll put the rest away later. I’ve had enough for one day.”
    Turning away, she washed her hands under the kitchen faucet, which spat rust-colored water, and dried them on a paper towel. “Is Rand finished working? I don’t hear any hammering.”
    “He and Lucy went to feed. It’s almost four.”
    “So you’re free to do some detective work?”
    Facing her, he gave her his usual teasing grin. “There really
was
a body under the floorboards?”
    “No, doofy.” Jas tossed the wadded up towel at him. “I’m tired of waiting for Investigator Baylor to show up. Grandfather and Rand gave me some names of people who haul horses in the area.” She pulled a scrap of paper from her back pocket. “I say we find the Yellow Pages and start phoning.”
    Chase pointed a wooden spoon at her. “I knew it was a good idea.”
    Fifteen minutes later, they sat side by side on the porch swing. Jas sipped lemonade while Chase drank a soda. His left leg was next to her right one. Sawdust clung to the golden hairs on his knees. Her jeans were sprinkled with dirt. Both of them were thirsty, hot, and smelled like sweat.
    Jas smiled, liking the closeness. “Horsehaulers. Horse transport,” she guessed as she flicked through the Yellow Pages. “I’m not even sure what to look under.”
    “Horse killers?” Chase suggested. “Oh, wait, that would be under
R
, for Robicheaux.”
    “Wait. Here it is. Equine Transport Services. Only two companies listed.” She punched a set of numbers into the portable phone. Taking it from her, Chase pressed the OFF button. “Why’d you do that?” she asked.
    “Do you know what you’re going to say? We don’t want to make them suspicious.”
    “Oh,