The Saddle Creek Series 5-Book Bundle. Shelley Peterson

Some salvage here, but he’ll be lucky to get it off his hands.”

      Gus stood quietly, watching his client. He was getting impatient with all of Owens’ complaints, but he wanted the sale. “He’ll be happy to sell it to you.”

      “Does Wick know I want it?” Owens asked, suddenly suspicious.

      “No, but he’ll know soon, if you decide to raise Joy’s bid.”

      “Why? Wick will just jack up the price if he knows I want it. I told you, I demand anonymity. If you can’t get this place for me on my terms, I’ll find someone who can.” Owens’ face was dark with anger as he snapped out the threat.

      Suddenly, the lights went out. The two men were plunged into complete darkness.

      “What the—!” sputtered Owens. “The goddam electricity’s out! Get me out of here.”

      A blur of dim blue light briefly appeared in the second seat in on the second row from the back, stage right. Then it was gone. It flickered in the fourth row from the front, stage left, then disappeared.

      “Gus, are you playing games with me?” demanded Owens angrily.

      “N-no, I-I promise.” Gus LeFarge was terrified. He’d heard stories, like everyone else, of the ghost that haunted the theatre.

      The blue light flared brightly right in front of LeFarge. He turned and ran, clumsily bumping into seats and bouncing off the walls in his haste to find the door. He pulled it open and fled.

      “Coward!” Owens hollered as he walked to the door. “Chicken liver!” He was disgusted with Gus LeFarge. A grown man afraid of the dark. Owens grabbed the door latch. It was burning hot. “Yeowch!” he screamed, pulling back his hand and shaking it. He kicked at the door. “LeFarge! Open this door! I’ve had enough of this crap!”

      Owens listened for Gus at the door, but heard nothing. He covered his hand with his jacket sleeve and reached again to open the hot latch. This time, an electrical surge shot through his hand along his arm, throwing him back into the seats. Owens was dumbfounded. He sat dazed.

      The blue light flickered in the aisle beside him. “You’ll never get out.” The tone of this unexpected voice was flat and the pitch was deep. There was a slightly faraway sound to it, a husky echo. “You’re like me, locked forever in a joyless void of your own choosing.”

      “LeFarge?” Owens called. “Is that you?”

      “You’ll never get out.”

      “Who said that?”

      The dim blue flickering light moved closer. “Samuel Owens. You’ll never get out of your own personal hell. Wherever you are, whatever you do, no matter how much land or how many horses you own.”

      “Get away from me!” Owens cried, frantically swatting the air. He jumped to his feet and ran to the door. Uncertain of what might happen when he grabbed the latch, Owens squeezed his eyes shut and lunged for it, ignoring the consequences.

      The door swung open and Owens charged, right into Robert Wick, who was accompanied by Joy Featherstone and a quivering Gus LeFarge.

      “Whatever Joy Featherstone offers, I’ll offer more! Just for the pleasure of burning down that theatre!”

      “It’s a little late, Sam,” said Robert Wick quietly, after he righted himself. “I’m not selling.”

      Owens was stunned. “You’re not selling?”

      “I’m not selling. I’m back in the theatre business.”

      “You’re crazy! You’re absolutely crazy. You think you can put your farm on the market and take it off when somebody wants it!”

      “You never put in an offer, Sam.”

      “I was just about to.”

      “Like I said, it’s a little late,” answered Wick. “I’ve changed my mind.”

      “I’ll sue. You’ll live to regret this.” Owens backed away, shaking with rage. “And what are you doing here, Joy Drake Featherstone? Have you two made a deal, or what? You and your daughter and your granddaughter are nothing but trouble. Let me warn you. I’m back, and you can’t trifle with me.” His face was crimson and rigid. His body was hunched and aggressive. “I expect a call within the next two hours accepting the offer that Gus was about to draw up, or you’ll all regret it.”

      Samuel Owens walked stiffly to his car, rubbing his right arm. He got in and drove away, leaving Gus, Robert, and Joy puzzled and more than a little alarmed.

      Colleen pulled off her surgical gloves and washed her hands thoroughly. It was getting late. She pulled off her cap, quickly brushed her hair, and changed into a fresh white uniform. Bloody clothes are not a comforting sight to nervous pet owners.

      She smiled as she strode into the waiting room, now empty except for two worried people. “Mr. Pierson, Abby. Cody is going to be fine.”

      Pete and Abby both looked at her with the same expression of relief.

      “His leg is badly broken and unstable at the moment,” Colleen said. “I’ve set it and put a plaster on it, but I want to talk to you both about what we should do.”

      “What do you suggest?” asked Pete as Colleen sat in the armchair beside him.

      “I believe that it’s best to keep him here for a week, heavily sedated. That would give the bones a chance to begin to knit.”

      Abby looked at Pete. “Won’t he be scared to be here alone?” she asked.

      He looked back at Colleen. “What are our options?”

      The vet pursed her lips and thought. “If the leg gets knocked, it’ll need pins and a steel rod. I’d hate to have to re-operate on him.”

      “Can we keep Cody sedated at home?” asked Abby.

      “I can give you pain pills for him, but they won’t stop him from moving. He needs some days of immobility.”

      “So, you’re saying that we don’t have much choice. We need to leave him here.”

      “That is my strong advice. He needs to be sedated, and that means he should stay here.”

      Abby was worried. “If he starts to gain consciousness, he’ll be terrified to find himself here.”

      “Don’t worry. I’ll look after him.”

      “We know you will, Colleen,” said Pete. “Thank you so much. Do we pay the bill now?”

      “No, the secretaries leave at six o’clock. It’s seven thirty. Don’t worry, we’ll get you.” She smiled.

      “Can I come to visit him?” Abby wanted to know.

      “Any time at all.” Colleen Millitch rose wearily from her chair. “Now, you two better get something to eat. It’s way past dinnertime.”

      Pete dropped Abby off at her front door and waved goodbye.

      “Thanks, Mr. Pierson!” she called. She watched the headlights disappear down the lane with a heavy heart. She hated leaving Cody at the vet’s. Abby took a deep breath and opened her door. The house was quiet. A few lights were on, but there were no cooking smells coming from the kitchen. Abby had a feeling that something was wrong.

      “Mom? Dad?”

      She heard footsteps coming out of her parents’ room. Someone stopped and closed the door quietly behind them.

      “Hello?” she called. “Who’s there?” Abby stood at the open front door, ready to bolt.

      “Abby, it’s me,” whispered Liam.

      “What’s wrong? Why are you whispering?”

      Liam came slowly down the stairs. His face