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“Maybe she’s homeless.” He shrugged. “It’s getting colder at night, which makes it harder for people to sleep in the woods.”
Sasha pulled on the leash as we approached Anthony who waited outside the entrance of the maroon structure at the back of the property.
“Relax, girl.” I patted her head. “It’s okay.”
“Take her.” I handed the leash to Luke. “I don’t want to spook the horses.”
“Mr. Cordero,” Anthony said. “I, I’m sorry. I, I didn’t mean to.”
“It’s okay, Anthony. Just tell me what you know.”
“The girl sneaks in through the window.” He pointed in the direction of the back of the stables. “She talks to the horses. They like her. I left her a blanket so she wouldn’t get cold. I, I’m sorry. I felt bad for her.”
“You were right to tell Luke.” I held out my hand. “Can I borrow your flashlight?”
“Sure.” He gave it to me. “You’re not going to hurt her?”
“Of course not.”
“I heard her say a man hurt her.” Anthony rocked back and forth. “She doesn’t bother the horses. That’s why I let her stay, but she keeps coming back, so I told Luke because I don’t want to get in trouble.”
“You stay with Luke.”
There was no reason for all three of us to go in and scare this kid. I’d have to look into a security system for the stables. The main house was secure, but I never had a problem with intruders on the property.
I walked past the horses. Under the window, a small, dainty pile of a person slept. She stirred as I approached, but didn’t wake up. She slept soundly for being in an unfamiliar place.
It had to be about fifty degrees in here. How was she able to sleep in such a bitter atmosphere?
I glided the light along her slender form. Even in a hoodie and wrapped in the blanket, she appeared delicate, almost frail. When I streamed the light over her face, she stretched before raising her hand to obstruct the intrusion.
“Comfortable?” I stared down at her, taking in her confused features. “What are you doing here?”
“I, ah…” When she pushed herself into a seated position, the light revealed a bruise under her right eye. “I’m…”
“Trespassing.”
“I’m sorry.” She swiped the hair from her face. “Are you a cop?”
“Far from it.” I lowered the flashlight. “Are you running from the police?”
She shook her head.
“I didn’t hear you.”
“Oh, no, I’m not.” She stood from the ground, backing away from me. “You look like a cop. Not like one who drives around, but the kind who investigates things.”
“A detective?”
She nodded.
“Words, please.”
“Yes.” She inched closer to the wall, but this time I stalked toward her. Now that she was in a standing position, she didn’t seem as small. She was tall and slender. Pieces of hay poked out of the ends of her long, silky black hair. It took much effort on my part not to remove them.
“How old are you?”
“Twenty.” Her legs buckled beneath her as she tried to put some distance between us.
