“Ready?” Rachel asked. She mostly hid her impatience well.
Wrigley settled on the leather harness protecting Gage’s left shoulder. The right side was cleaned up and bandaged. “What’s the plan?” Gage asked her.
“I want to start in the laundry. A habit, probably stained with blood, would need to be washed.”
“Or incinerated,” Wrigley suggested.
“We’ll have a chance to find more clues at the laundry. We start there.” She gave Wrigley a waiting look.
“Oh,” Wrigley said. “This way.” He cocked his head.
“Pal,” Gage said, “I can’t see what you’re doing and I can’t read your mind. Use words.”
“We’ll be here forever,” Rachel said, rolling her eyes. “He’s basically your horse. Can’t you just nudge him or something? Maybe we could get some reins and a bit?”
While Gage scowled daggers at Rachel, Wrigley shifted his weight and gently pushed with his left talons.
“Are you kidding me?” Gage snorted. Exasperated, he blew air from his mouth.
“Pretty good whinny.” Rachel headed toward the direction of Wrigley’s nod.
Continue reading “Gage and Wrigley: Chapter One, Part Three”


