Barn Jeans

    It sounded like a loud ‘POP’ and Andy, my 8 year-old Quarter Horse, spooked.  We’d been riding for two hours on the trails that were part of the 250 acres that made up the stable where he was boarded.  The noise flushed out some turkeys and a fawn who headed off ahead of us on the deer trails.  I patted Andy’s neck and held him steady as we watched the wildlife clear the area.  After reassuring him that it was okay, we ambled back to the stable where I removed his tack and returned him to his stall.  The stable hands were ready to begin the mid-day feeding, so Andy was happy.  I secured my locker, removed the receipt, and headed home. 

    Feeling grungy after a morning at the stable, I headed directly for the shower, dropping my dirty riding jeans by the washer located in the kitchen.  After a long hot shower, I returned to the kitchen, I saw the jeans on the floor, and was forced to smile as I remembered my dad’s words.  “Laundry is forever.”  I never made a trip, laundry basket in tow, past his room that he didn’t remind me of this fact.  Now that he’s gone, I actually miss hearing those words.  Life goes on, along with the laundry, but I’m still thinking of him as I sort. 

    Barn jeans!  These are the worst part of my laundry routine.  Usually stiff with mud and frequently covered with horse snot, they hold an additional promise of horse treats in the pockets.  Historically, horse treats have not washed so well, and left considerable crumbs in the washer and even the dryer, if things got that far.  I check the pockets carefully.  Wait, what’s this?  I pulled out a receipt.  I paid the monthly boarding bill for my horse this morning.  I put the receipt on the dryer, and started a load of laundry.
Grabbing the receipt, I headed for my desk to check my e-mail and file the boarding receipt away.  I placed the receipt on the desk and checked my new messages.  I was hoping for an e-mail from,Lacy.  We’d been riding together for several months on Saturdays and e-mailed back and forth to coordinate our schedules.  Today she didn’t call, and she didn’t show up.  I can’t say we were close friends, just riding friends.  But it did seem strange because she e-mailed me yesterday that she would be riding today. 

    I sat back in my chair and gazed out the window.  It was a lovely autumn day.  The leaves were changing and the holidays would be upon me before I knew it.  I wondered what Lacy would be doing this holiday season.  Then I wondered why I wondered.

    My cell rang.  The caller ID indicated it was the stable where Andy was boarded.  I answered immediately with my heart racing.  Since the exit of my latest, and not nearly greatest, boyfriend, Andy was the primary male in my life.  Marilyn, the stable owner and manager, was calling to ask if I knew how to contact Lacy.  Her horse was due his shots, and Marilyn needed to coordinate with the vet who would be at the stable tomorrow.  I told Marilyn that I didn’t have any contact with Lacy beyond e-mailing to coordinate our riding schedules.  She indicated that none of the phone numbers she had for Lacy were being answered. 

    Hmm, I thought.  I wondered what’s up with Lacy.  I picked up the receipt to file it in the desk drawer when something on the back caught my attention.  “HELP ME PLEASE!” was written in pencil.

  What?  I thought.  Where did that come from?  I looked over the receipt carefully.  I remember leaving my check on the desk in the office.  When I returned from my ride the receipt was pinned face down to my locker.  This was the normal routine for the stable.  Anybody could have had access to it. 

    I turned back to my computer and looked at my contacts for the stable.  I was considering contacting each one to see if anyone had heard from her since yesterday.  As I reviewed the list, one name caught my eye, Egan Riley.  Egan was one of the few men who rode with the Saturday group.  He was former military, former sheriff’s department and no one knew what else.  Egan was a solitary man.  But we all knew that Egan was in love with Lacy.  I had taken a risk once and mentioned to Lacy that I’d noticed Egan was watching her, but she said I was just being silly.  I had taken that to mean nosey, too.  Then I remembered that Egan was not at the stable today either.

    I was feeling strangely uncomfortable about this whole thing.  I picked up my cell and called the stable.  If someone up there is in trouble, Marilyn needed to hear about this.  My call went immediately to voice mail.  Darn, I thought.  Someone’s on the phone.  I tried again with the same result.  Finally, on the third try, Connie, one of the boarders, and another riding buddy answered.  Connie was hysterical.  Connie was high strung, but I could tell that something was really wrong.  I couldn’t begin to understand her words.  There was a pause and then I heard Marilyn’s voice.  “We found Lacy,” she said, breaking into tears.

    “Okay,” I replied.  “what’s wrong then?”

    “She’s dead!” Marilyn answered, and disconnected.                                      908 Words