My riding lessons had been to help increase my balance, improve my muscle tone, and up my red blood cell count, but I think its largest benefit had been the confidence I gained from being in control of a big beautiful animal that would do anything I asked of it. To an eleven-year-old, that feeling of power was addictive.

A smile curved over me and I closed my eyes, feeling the autumn sun soak deeper. My friend and I had snuck out of our camp house one morning to sleep in the stables with the horses. The soft sounds of their breathing had been indescribably comforting. Our cabin mother had been furious, but it was the best I had slept the entire time.

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?