My eyes opened. It had probably been the only night I’d slept uninterrupted. Jasmin, too, had slept well at the stables. And the pale girl had desperately needed sleep. Jasmin! I thought, clutching at the name. That’s what the dark-haired girl’s name had been. Jasmin.

The sound of radio chatter pulled my gaze from the field, leaving me feeling more melancholy than I would’ve expected. She had possessed an inoperable brain tumor. I didn’t think even Trent’s father’s illegal activities could have fixed that.

My attention went to Trent. His green eyes were intent on me even as he talked to Edden, and I tugged my hat straight and tucked a wisp of hair behind an ear. Refusing to let him rattle me, I stared back. His gaze flicked behind me, and I turned as Sara Jane’s red car pulled up with a scattering of sawdust beside the FIB vehicles.

The small woman bolted from her car, looking like a different person in her jeans and casual blouse. Slamming the door, she stalked forward. “You!” she accused, coming to a flustered halt before me, and I took a surprised step back. “This is your doing, isn’t it!” she shouted up at me.

My face went blank. “Uh.”

She put herself in my face, and I took another step back. “I asked for your help in finding my boyfriend,” she said shrilly, eyes flashing. “Not accuse my employer of murder! You are an evil witch, so evil, you could—could fire God!”

“Um,” I stammered, glancing at Edden for help. He and Trent were on their way over, and I backed up another step, holding my bag tight against me. I hadn’t thought of this.

“Sara Jane,” Trent soothed even before he was close. “It’s all right.”

She spun to him, her blond hair catching the highlights of the sun. “Mr. Kalamack,” she said, her face shifting abruptly to fear and worry. Eyes pinched, she wrung her hands. “I’m sorry. I came as soon as I heard. I didn’t ask her to come here. I—I…” Her eyes welled, and making a small noise, she dropped her head into her hands and started crying.

My lips parted in surprise. Was she worried about her job, her boyfriend, or Trent?

Trent gave me a dark look, as if it were my fault she was upset. It melted into genuine sympathy as he put a hand upon the small woman’s shaking shoulders. “Sara Jane,” he soothed, ducking his head to try and meet her eyes. “Don’t even think that I blame you for this. Ms. Morgan’s accusations have nothing to do with you going to the FIB about Dan.” His wonderful voice rose and fell like puddles of silk.