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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

The Case of Cloud Rider - 1. Chapter 1

“Jimmy? I know it’s been a while, and I’m probably the last person you want to hear from, but we need to talk.”

I gripped the phone handset so hard, I thought it might break. My heart pounded in my chest, and I felt like all the breath left my body at once. Was this really who I thought it was?

“Say something, please.” It sure the fuck was. The voice on the other end sounded laced with pain. He was in pain? What about all the pain he’d caused me? Every muscle in my body tensed as thirteen years of silence and betrayal attacked my nerve-endings, causing barely-controlled rage to spill out.

“Are you shitting me, Jo Jo?” I cringed as the nickname slipped out, unbidden. “You have a lot of nerve calling me here, after what you did. You can go f—”

“Cloud Rider is alive.”

My anger instantly dissipated, replaced by shock and disbelief. “What did you say?”

“Meet me at our old hangout. Tonight at six.” He hung up before I could reply.

The black handset slipped from my hand and clattered on the desk. Ten seconds later, I grabbed the phone and hurled it across the room as I screamed, then swiped everything off my desk onto the floor. Real mature, I know, but it made me feel better for all of one whole second.

“What the hell, Jim?” Elias, my business partner, gawped at me from the door of my office. I opened the top drawer of my desk, snatched my wallet, cell phone, and keys, and shouldered past him.

“I’m taking the rest of the day off!” I yelled as I jogged through the office and out the door. I needed to try and process what had just happened, and there was only one place I could do that.

 

It was off season, so the beach was mainly empty. There were a handful of people strolling along the lake edge, playfully running from the incoming surf. It was too cool to actually go in the water. I got a few strange looks as I walked purposefully to my destination. Rolled up khakis and loafers thrown over my shoulder weren’t exactly the usual beach fashion. It took me about a half hour to reach the cave. The landscape had changed in the eleven years since I’d been there last.

There were more rocks around the outside than I remembered, and it looked impossible to get into, at least with the water approaching high tide. Or maybe what was easy for a seventeen-year-old wasn’t as easy for a thirty-year-old. I exhaled and sat on a rock on the side of the cave. What was I doing here? Why had Joe contacted me out of the blue after all this time? And how the hell could Cloud Rider still be alive?

Laughter echoed off the edge of the cliff forming the outer wall of the sea cave. A group of teenage boys roughhoused their way along the sand, pausing now and then to throw a frisbee to each other. I ran my hand through my hair, trying to control the onslaught of emotions that had been released with my brother’s call.

Jo Jo and I were serious kids. When we found something that interested us, we’d throw ourselves into it until we knew everything about whatever had ignited that spark. I think the first thing we obsessed over was dinosaurs. I had a tub of plastic dinosaurs and memorized all the names, what they ate, and when they lived. I was about six at the time, which made Joe four. He could parrot those names back just as well as I could. Well, as well as a four-year-old could pronounce lengthy dinosaur names. Then it was animals, followed by cars.

Finally came the obsession that changed our lives. Jo Jo and I loved reading teen mystery novels. The Hardy Boys, The Three Investigators, and Nancy Drew filled our bookshelves. When Joe was eleven and I was thirteen, we solved our first case. The Case of the Missing Package. Hardly front-page stuff, but it was exciting to us.

One of our neighbors came to visit our mom, and we overheard her bitching about a package she ordered being late. When she called to check on its status, they told her it had already been delivered, even though she never received it. Jo Jo and I immediately looked at each other and grinned. We bolted out the front door, and two hours later handed Mrs. Newman her errant package. It had been delivered to 46 Maple Street instead of 64. Mystery solved. That was the start of the Turbot Brothers Detective Agency – No Mystery too Big or too Small!

I stood abruptly and paced around the edge of the cave. Fuck, it hurt to remember. What was I doing here, anyway? Why was I doing this to myself? I grabbed a stone and threw it as hard as I could into the lake. Then I grabbed another, and another, and another until my arm muscles screamed from the effort.

Cloud Rider.

I was here because of Cloud Rider. The case that tore my family apart. Just hearing the name was a stab to my heart. This was the cave where we found his remains. Or, apparently, what we thought were his remains. Cloud Rider was a bay thoroughbred racehorse. How the hell did a racehorse end up dead in a cave off the shores of Lake Michigan?

Joe loved horses. He split his free time between solving cases with me and working on a thoroughbred racing farm. He was only fifteen at the time, but the owner overlooked his age. Joe got the horses ready for the exercise riders, then took care of them after their workout. One of his charges was Cloud Rider. He was about to enter his two-year-old year and start racing. He was the fastest horse on the farm, and the owners had him geared toward triple crown races.

Then he disappeared.

Joe was beside himself. The Turbot brothers immediately jumped into action. This was no Case of the Missing Package. Instead of two hours, it took almost two months before we made our grim discovery in the cave behind me. I clenched my fists as I remembered the look on my brother’s face when we saw the name on the halter. Devastated is too mild a word for the pain he endured.

The ultimate conclusion was that Cloud Rider had escaped his paddock and somehow made his way down to the beach, then the cave, where he was trapped by the tide and drowned. It was a blow to the farm, but more so to Joe. He blamed himself, even though he hadn’t been working that day. He thought that if he had been working, the accident never would have happened. He was much too careful with his job to let something so careless happen.

It consumed him.

Ever since solving the Case of the Missing Package, Joe and I had a plan. We’d go to college and study criminal justice, then turn our neighborhood detective agency into a real private investigator business. Everything started fine. I graduated high school and was accepted into a prestigious program for criminal justice. Jo Jo followed suit two years later. That’s when things took a turn for the worse.

The guilt over Cloud Rider, combined with the freedom of college life was too much for Joe. He ended up partying to the point of becoming an addict. When I graduated with my bachelor’s, Joe was admitted to rehab for the first time. He checked himself out a week later.

He never finished his degree, and the Turbot Brothers Detective Agency became Turbot and Sanchez – Private Investigators. Elias Sanchez was a buddy of mine from college. I dropped all contact with Joe after I realized the lies, manipulation, and thefts weren’t going to stop.

Which brings us to today.

Cloud Rider is alive.

What the actual fuck?

Ten years of radio silence, now this. I needed to find some sort of self-control to stop me from punching him in the face the minute I saw him. I inhaled deeply and strode away from the cave, not looking back.

****

McGinty’s Malteds and Milkshakes was now a Starbucks. I sat in my car, staring at the green logo, and a part of my childhood died inside me. I supposed it was just as well; my stomach couldn’t handle a chocolate peanut butter bomb with crushed Reeses peanut butter cups on top. I doubted it could handle a whatever-weird-name-they-chose-to-call-their-sizes cup of coffee either. This whole meet-up was probably a huge mistake, but the investigator in me needed answers. And the child in me needed his little brother, as much as I didn’t want to admit it.

I exited my car and headed inside. Reading a room was second nature to me. I saw every face in the dining area as I walked up to the counter and placed my order. Jo Jo was in the back corner. I almost didn’t recognize him. His receding auburn hair was cut short and starting to gray at his temples. The lines on his face told the story of a hard life. His arms were covered in tattoos. He looked more like thirty-eight instead of twenty-eight. He was definitely not the brother of my youth.

I expected to feel anger, resentment, betrayal… all the emotions I’d been pushing away over the years, but instead I felt nothing as we stared at each other. The corner of Joe’s mouth upturned in a slightly crooked attempt at a smile. “You gonna sit, or are we gonna stare at each other all day?”

I slid into the chair across from him and set my cup of black coffee down in front of me. “How the hell can Cloud Rider still be alive?”

Joe shook his head. “So that’s how it’s going to be, huh? All business?”

I frowned. “What do you want from me?”

“It’s good to see you, J. I—”

I put my hand up, clenching my jaw. “Don’t.”

He sighed. “I’m clean and sober now. Three years. I have a partner and a stable job. Things are good, for the first time in a long time.”

“That’s great. I’m happy for you, really. But there’s a lot of things wrong between us that can’t be made right over one cup of overpriced coffee.”

He nodded. “I know.” He absent-mindedly shredded his napkin and sighed. “I’m working at Graymore Farms now. The owner took a chance on me, despite my criminal record. There’s a room above the barn he said I could stay in, if I cleaned it out. It was full of old equipment – blankets, saddles, and the like – boxes of old papers, and an old tack trunk. I threw most of it out and salvaged whatever I could. The trunk was pretty cool, so I kept that to store my own shit in.”

I sipped my coffee, wondering what this had to do with anything.

“Jose, he’s my partner, had an extra cot I could use, and that trunk was big enough for my clothes. We bought a little table and lamp at the Salvation Army. It’s not the Ritz, but it’s enough for me at the moment.”

“Why didn’t you move in with Jose?”

Joe stared at me, a curious expression on his face. I knew him well enough to recognize that he was holding something back.

“We’ve only been dating a few months. Neither one of us are ready for that step. Besides, he’s living in an apartment on the farm he works for with several other exercise riders. There’s no room for anyone else.”

“But you’re serious about him.” It was pretty obvious my brother was over the moon for this guy. I could see it whenever he said his name.

He shrugged and his mouth twitched as if trying to hold back a smile. “Maybe. I’d love to introduce him to—”

I shook my head. “We’re not even close to being there yet. So, what the hell does any of this have to do with Cloud Rider?”

Jo Jo frowned slightly and continued. “One of the stallions I take care of reminded me so much of Cloud Rider…” His jaw muscles bulged as he clenched his teeth. “I almost asked for a different horse, but didn’t think that would go over well with the boss. Besides, I guess it was good for me to face what happened and try to honor his memory. I admit I was tempted to drink and use again, but I went to a meeting instead.”

“And there it is. How many times have I heard that before?” I started to rise from my seat. “Nice seeing you. Don’t contact me again.”

Joe scowled. “Sit down, will you? For fuck’s sake, you haven’t exactly been perfect either, you know.”

“Are you fucking serious? I have been nothing but supportive of—”

“—judgmental, condescending, and anything but supportive.”

I started at him in disbelief. “After how many times I bailed you out of jail, paid for rehab, only to have you check yourself out days later, and took care of your bills so you wouldn’t get evicted? I made so many excuses for you, and you threw it all back in my face!”

Joe closed his eyes and took a deep breath in, then let it out slowly, counting under his breath. “Let me tell you what I found in the trunk, and if you still want me to fuck off and leave you alone, then so be it.” He looked defeated. For the first time since entering the Starbucks, I saw the little brother of my youth.

“Fine. Go on.”

“It was from the old farm. Somehow, it ended up at Graymore. It was full of Cloud Rider’s old stuff. His saddle, bridle, blankets… and registration papers. There were two sets of papers. One was Cloud Rider’s and the other was for a horse named Shadow Streaker. They’re both bay thoroughbred stallions.”

“And….”

“I found Shadow Streaker. He’s standing at stud at a farm in Kentucky.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“Wanna take a road trip?” Joe bounced his leg and tapped his fingers on the table. He only did that when he was nervous.

The last thing I wanted was to spend hours in the car with him, chasing a ghost. “Yeah, sure.”

 

“Black, right?” Joe handed me a cup with Dunkin’ Donuts printed on it. At least it wasn’t Starbucks.

I grunted and took a swig.

Joe laughed. “Still a morning person, I see.”

I glared the stare of a thousand daggers at him. “If you don’t want me to leave you on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere, I suggest you shut the fuck up until this entire cup is gone.”

He made a locking motion near his mouth. Thankfully, he let me finish my dark brew and let the caffeine kick in before talking to me again.

“What did ankylosaurus eat?”

“What?”

“I’m asking you. What did they eat?”

“Are you fucking nuts?”

“No, they didn’t eat nuts.” He smirked.

I rolled my eyes. “Ferns and shrubs. Whatever was close the ground, since they couldn’t reach anything higher.”

“Now you ask me a question.”

We used to play this game when we went on vacation as a family when we were kids.

“Why do you think Cloud Rider is still alive? And why is his stuff at Graymore? He was never affiliated with Graymore, right?”

“Not that I know of.” He looked out the window. “I know it sounds crazy, but I think they switched horses. I bet you anything that it was Storm Streaker we found, not Cloud Rider. I saw pictures of Storm Streaker online. They look identical except for one detail. Cloud Rider has a scar on his forehead from when he cut it trying to eat grass on the other side of the fence. The horse in the photo has the same scar.”

“That’s a pretty big leap. He’s a bay thoroughbred, for fuck’s sake. They all look alike, and they all get banged up somehow. Besides, why would they do that?”

He shrugged. “Dunno. But I want to find out.”

“Why did you drag me along?”

“Because I want to finish what we started.” He paused. “And I want my brother back.”

Wow.

“What is the average air speed of a laden swallow?” Joe asked.

“African or European?”

We looked at each other and burst into laughter. Any time the stress of solving our cases, or the stress of simply being a teenager overwhelmed us, we’d watch Monty Python and the Holy Grail, order a large pizza, and say all the movie quotes along with the characters.

We stopped to gas up and take a bathroom break after that. I bought a metric ton of snacks and some soda since we still had several hours before we reached the farm. I tossed a package of Ding Dongs at Joe after he got back in the car. He grinned.

“You remembered my favorite!”

“Of course. Who actually likes this shit?” I tried to suppress a smile.

“Says the dick who likes Funyons. How the hell can a vegetable be a snack? Now Fritos, on the other hand… hand that shit over!”

I rummaged in the bag and held up a bag of BBQ flavored spiral Fritos. Joe snatched them out of my hand.

“Now that’s what I’m talking about!”

We didn’t talk much as we ate our snacks. The greenery along the side of the highway blurred by as we continued southeast to Kentucky.

“Remember the Case of the Corrupt Caddy?” I jumped when Joe spoke. I’d been lost in my own thoughts.

“Um, yeah. That was something. Cheating in golf. Who knew people bet on that game?”

“What was your favorite case we solved?”

That was a no-brainer. “The Mystery of the Stolen Watch.”

“Really? Why that one?”

That was the first case where Joe took the lead. He canvassed all the local pawn shops for weeks, looking for the Rolex our customer said had been stolen out of his gym bag. Joe eventually found it. It turned out he had pawned it himself and reported it stolen to get the insurance money too.

“You did amazing work. I was really proud of you, you know.”

“Jimmy… I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say to you.” Jo Jo looked at me evenly. “I miss you.”

“Then why ten years? And why now?”

“You made it pretty clear you wanted nothing to do with me.” His voice had an angry edge to it.

“You stole from me. What was I supposed to do?”

“I don’t know… show me some support? Tell me you loved me, even if you didn’t love what I was doing?”

I gripped the steering wheel so hard the car shifted into the other lane for a second. I straightened it out. “I did!” I shouted. “You were too high to realize how much I tried to help, only to have you betray me over and over and over. Seriously, Joe, I did everything I fucking could!” I pounded my fists on the steering wheel so I wouldn’t take it out on him. “The ball was in your court. It always has been.”

“Well, now I have it, and I’m passing it on. I’m here now. So, let’s see if we can move past this, okay?”

I didn’t reply.

We didn’t talk much during the rest of the drive. It was awkward, tense, and I just wanted the trip to be over. I saw glimpses of my old brother, and re-living our childhood memories hurt like hell. He missed me? Well, I missed him even more. And the brother he used to be. I couldn’t see a path forward because I was too busy looking behind. Maybe I needed to stop reliving the past.

I pulled into the farm’s driveway mid-afternoon. I parked and we got out of the car and stretched, then headed into the main barn. We got strange looks from the workers, and they whispered and pointed to us. One of them walked over. “Can I help you?”

“I was hoping I could see Shadow Streaker. I have a horse by him, and thought it would be cool to see her sire,” Joe stated.

Damn. He was a natural at this.

“Let me get my boss. Wait here,” the man stated and walked to an office off the barn aisle.

I walked over to a stall to pet the horse in it. I could hear the frantic conversation.

“Some guys are here asking about Storm Streaker.”

“What? What did they say?”

“He owns a horse by Stormy and wants to meet its sire.”

“What should we do?”

“I dunno, boss. That’s your call.”

“It might be suspicious if we turn them away. I’ll go talk to them and see if I can find out why they’re really here.”

Alarm bells went off in my head. Maybe Jo Jo was onto something here. They were clearly freaked out by our presence. I moved back to where Joe stood.

A middle-aged man with gray hair and glasses came out of the office and walked toward us. He smiled and held out his hand. “I’m Joel, the barn manager here. Adiel says you want to see Storm Streaker?”

Joe and I shook his hand in turn.

“I have a filly by Storm Streaker. We were passing by the area and thought we would stop by and see if we could meet him. I’m Joe Turbot, and this is my brother Jim. Sorry we didn’t call, but it was a spur-of-the-moment decision.”

The man looked skeptical, but schooled his expression. “Well, we don’t normally allow public barn tours, but I’ll make an exception since you just want to meet Stormy.”

“My filly has done extremely well. I’m interested in maybe breeding some of my mares to him. I looked up his progeny, and their records are impressive. I think you have a bit of a dark horse here, pun intended.” Joe grinned.

Man, was he a charmer.

Joel laughed and looked more relaxed. It seemed he was buying Joe’s story. We walked through the barn to a series of paddocks. He pointed to the closest one. “That’s his.” The sharp ting of a cell phone ringtone sounded. “Excuse me.” Joel fished his phone out of his pocket and answered it. He waved us on.

We walked over to the paddock, where Storm Streaker was grazing at the other end. Joe put his fingers to his lips and whistled. Storm raised his head and whinnied, then galloped over to us, sliding to a stop. Joe ran his hands all over the horse’s face, petting him and scratching behind his ears. Storm Streaker rubbed into him, nuzzling him and almost knocking him over. Tears streamed down Joe’s face.

“It’s him. There’s no doubt. It’s Cloud Rider.”

I glanced behind us, where Joel had been talking on his phone. He held up his phone and snapped a picture of us. Something was seriously wrong. As much as I loved seeing my brother reunited with Cloudy, we needed to leave now.

“Joe, I am so happy we found him, but we gotta go now.”

He wiped his eyes and nodded. “I can’t believe it’s him.”

I clasped his shoulder. “Get it together and put on your best poker face.”

“I’ll try.”

We walked over to Joel. Joe smiled and held out his hand. “Thank you for letting us meet him. I really appreciate it. He’s so much more impressive in person. I’ll definitely be in touch about sending some mares here for breeding. He’s got the look of eagles. A truly special horse.”

Joel nodded and smiled, but it was clear the unease was back. “Thank you. Yes, I agree. He is special. I’ll wait for your call.”

We said our good-byes, and then walked straight for the car and left. I exhaled as soon as we were off the property. “Damn. You’re on to something here, definitely. What could they be hiding?”

Joe shrugged. “Good question.”

I pulled the car over to the side of the road and stopped. Joe looked at me funny. “Jo Jo… I forgive you. I’ve been so busy looking behind me and rehashing old hurt, that I failed to see the strong, brave brother I missed for so long.” I grabbed his hand and squeezed. “I love you, Jo Jo.”

His face scrunched up as he tried to hold back his emotion. “I love you, too.” We embraced tightly, clapping each other on the back, and let go.

Joe sniffed. “Let’s get back on the road. The Turbot brothers have a case to solve.”

Copyright © 2023 Secret Author; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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