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“Sure.” Grant held out his arms and eased Ivy back onto the solid earth. Blake followed, swinging his leg over to dismount Angus. He gave the horse a pat as he came around and wrapped Ivy in his arms again.
“What spooked the horse?” he asked.
Grant leaned in to speak where the rest of the gathering crowd couldn’t hear them. “I was hanging on the back, but Mack was driving the truck. He said he saw someone toss a firecracker into the street in front of her horse.”
“Are you serious?” Blake had been right about the sound.
Grant nodded. “Who would do that kind of thing? They ruined the whole parade and someone could’ve gotten hurt.”
Especially Ivy. The thought brought an ominous suspicion to mind. Blake scanned the crowds, looking for one face in particular. A bunch of people were standing around, not sure what to do with themselves. A couple were consoling the crying Miss Rosewood for the loss of her glorious moment. Parents were searching out their children from the marching band. He didn’t see Lydia anywhere, despite her brother and Mr. Whittaker running up from their truck. That was a start. He wanted to talk to them privately.
“Grant, could you take Ivy to your car and get her out of here?”
“Sure thing.”
“Ivy, Grant’s going to take you home. I’m going to figure out what happened. I’ll call you later and check on you, okay?”
“Okay,” Ivy said. She took a deep breath, wiping away her tears. She was no longer flushed, but she looked relieved to have an exit strategy.
Grant put his arm around Ivy’s shoulder and escorted her across the lawn to his car. The crowds stayed back, with a few stray cameramen snapping shots as they left.
Blake turned on his heel and walked over to where Thomas and his father were standing. When Thomas saw him, his eyes went wide with panic.
“I’m so sorry, Coach. I don’t know what got into Willow.”
Mr. Whittaker put a hand on his son’s shoulder. “She’s never done that before, Blake. She gets a little startled by loud noises, but she’s never reared back or bolted like that. I’m not sure what happened.”
?
?Mack said he saw someone throw a firecracker into the street in front of them.”
Mr. Whittaker’s eyes widened and he nodded sadly. “That might’ve done it. Who would do such a thing?”
“Have you seen your daughter, Mr. Whittaker?”
The older man opened his mouth to speak, then his brow knit and he paused. Turning to Thomas, he said, “Catch Willow and put her in the truck before something else spooks her.” When his son jogged off after the filly and was out of earshot, he spoke again. “I haven’t seen her today,” he said slowly. “Why do you ask?”
“She and I had a discussion last night that she didn’t like. It involved Ivy.”
Mr. Whittaker frowned. “Lydia is a headstrong girl and she knows what she wants, but I don’t think she’d do something like that. She and Ivy were best friends in grade school.”
“Perhaps she was just playing a prank to embarrass Ivy and the horse was more skittish than she anticipated.”
“I don’t know, Blake. I’m sorry I can’t be more help.”
Blake turned his back on the older man and the horses. He ignored everyone as he traced back over Willow’s path, crossing the street and stopping near Ellen’s Diner. Most of the people who had been here only minutes ago had gone.
He stopped on the sidewalk right where they were when the horse took off. They’d just crossed through the intersection. There was a black smear on the pavement with the faint paper remnants of a firecracker left behind. From where he was standing, it would’ve been easy to toss the firecracker, then turn and disappear into the back door of the diner.
Lydia’s family owned Ellen’s. The people who worked there would think nothing of Lydia popping in.
Blake walked around to the front entrance. There were only a few hard-core coffee drinkers at the counter; otherwise the place was empty.
“Hey, there, Blake,” Ruth greeted him. “Did something happen with the parade? It seemed to end pretty quickly.”
“There was a float malfunction,” Blake said.
“Well, that’s a shame. Can I get you something to eat?”
