Posted in Posted by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

    Dan picked up some papers and started fishing through them. “Here's the what information we could find, it really isn't much.”
   Kit got up and walked over to look over his shoulder. “Bethany Jackson, age eighteen, works at High Ridge Stables, estimated kidnapping time six thirty... was on a horse ride? Who would go on a ride that early?”
   Dan chuckled. “People that are crazy about horses don't mind the time I guess. Ashley, the owner of the stables, said that she goes on rides at that time every day. Something about being alone with God or something,” he shrugged.
   “So you've been to the scene?” Kit questioned.
   “Well, we've been to the stables but we haven't done any looking around on the paths. I thought you'd like to be there.”
   “Well you thought right! Are we going now?”
   “We? I need to stay here and hold down the fort. You can go, there are some of our other people there still.”
   “Great!” Kit grabbed her coat and ran out of the door, excited to be on something already. She had been at this police station for only a couple of weeks, though this wasn't the first time she had worked as a police. It had taken a while for her to get to where she was now, it had been something she had dreamed of pretty much all of her life. She had always been bolder than her sister and not nearly as boy-crazy. Kit rolled her eyes as she remembered overhearing her parents talking about her.

   “What is wrong with that girl?” her mother asked, exasperated.
   “I don't know. Maybe she'll grow out of it,” her father had been at least a little more laid back about the affair.
   “But what if she doesn't?” her mother worried again. “What if she never goes out and finds someone? What will happen to her when we're gone? I think you should talk to her.”
   “Why don't we give her a little more time? She may not need our urging.”
   “Fine and I hope you're right. I guess it wouldn't do any good to talk to her anyway, she's as stubborn as a mule.”
   Her father had chuckled. “That she is.”

   Kit frowned. Her father had ended up talking to her once, her mother more than once, and her sister constantly would point out boys wherever they went. She wondered at how she had survived it all. Of course her brother liked her more because she didn't follow the usual silly ways of the girls in their neighborhood, and she got along well with him. Her sister and she were so different though that they never had a very close relationship.

~ Arthur Doyle