For Sale or Swap - Alyssa Brugman [13]
Shelby chewed on her lip. 'I don't know,' she whispered.
'What about the number plate on the truck?'
Shelby shrugged.
'Any other things you can recall about the truck? Did it have something written on the side?'
Shelby shook her head. She tried to think of something useful to tell them. 'It was white. It had a cab at the front. There were windows on the sides . . .' She trailed off. That was all she'd noticed.
'What was he wearing?'
That she could remember. 'Blue jeans and a grey tee-shirt with a collar.'
The two police officers exchanged a glance.
'So, we're looking for a man in jeans and a tee-shirt driving a white truck with windows,' said Constable Bidgood.
Shelby blushed.
Sergeant Everard shifted on her feet and took a deep breath. 'Even if we could find him, I'm afraid there's not much we can do about this,' she began.
'Why not?' asked Shelby's mother.
'Well, Mrs Shaw, from what your daughter has said, she's entered into a verbal contract. It's not like the man came along in the middle of the night and took the horse. Your daughter agreed to an exchange, and actually led her horse onto his truck. It's not criminal. It's a civil matter.'
Shelby felt a lump wedge into her throat.
'But what about the phone calls?' protested Shelby's father. 'Hasn't he broken the contract by not answering?'
Sergeant Everard smiled. 'We'd need a much bigger police force if we had to arrest everyone who didn't answer their phone, Mr Shaw. My suggestion is that you wait the two weeks. From what your daughter has said, she's ended up with the better part of the deal.'
'In the meantime you might want to see a lawyer,' suggested Constable Bidgood, as he stood up. 'And I'd start scouting around to see what you can find out about this fellow. Ring that magazine of yours. They might have taken down more information.'
Shelby's father saw them to the door.
'I'm sorry we couldn't be more help,' Sergeant Everard said, looking Shelby in the eye.
Shelby felt her lip wobble and her eyes fill with tears. 'Thank you anyway,' she whispered.
After they left Shelby sat with her parents on the lounge.
'What were you thinking?' asked her father.
'I did try to tell you about it. It happened so quickly. He was nice. It all seemed like a dream come true. I thought I could see Blue tomorrow. The man said I could visit.'
Her mother rubbed her knee. 'It might still be OK. Perhaps he's just late paying his phone bill? Why don't we wait and see?'
Shelby shook her head. 'No, I want to see a lawyer today.'
Shelby's mother and father looked at each other. Her father rubbed his eyes. 'Shel, lawyers are very expensive and we're stretched as it is. I don't think you should panic. Didn't you say he had taken very good care of this Brat pony?'
'But that's not the point,' blurted Shelby. 'I don't know where Blue is! I want him back right now!'
'Honey, why don't you give it the two weeks? If this horse is as good as you say, then he'd be mad to let it go. If you're still unhappy in two weeks then we'll go to a lawyer to see if we can straighten it out.'
Shelby wanted to argue, but there was no point. Her parents had made up their minds. Besides, maybe they were right. Maybe it would turn out all right.
7 A Disturbing Idea
The next morning Shelby rode Brat up to the stables to visit Erin. Miss Anita was standing at the fence as she walked past the arena.
'That's a nice-looking pony,' Miss Anita said.
'Thank you. Her name is Maxshine Celtic Copper,' said Shelby, smiling. Saying a three-barrelled name was every bit as satisfying as she had dreamed it would be. She pulled up next to the fence and patted Brat on the shoulder.
'How does she go?'
'She's OK,' Shelby replied.
They'd had a sedate trip across the gully. Brat shied away from the slightest thing, so Shelby hadn't risked going any faster. Brat wasn't as sure-footed as Blue either. She'd never had to steer him along the trails. Brat seemed to always pick the most difficult way, stumbling over rocks and pressing up close to the bushes on the side of the trail so that Shelby