Death by Equine Annette Dashofy (black authors fiction txt) 📖

wasn’t too keen about sharing his profits.” She held up a second finger. “Frank Hamilton.”

“The paddock judge?” Jessie could buy Butch being into illegal activities. But Frank Hamilton? “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Sherry swung her head like a slow pendulum. “I’m serious. Race fixing. I don’t know the particulars, but my father did and was putting the screws to Frankie baby.” She held up three fingers. “And then there’s Daniel Shumway.”

Now Jessie knew Sherry was lying through her teeth. “And I suppose you’re going to tell me Daniel’s a drug dealer.” Jessie made no effort to mask her sarcasm.

“Maybe. I just know Shumway and my dad had a serious screaming match a few days before Dad died.” Sherry curled her fingers into a fist. “You do the math.”

From the far end of the shedrow came a crash. Jessie jumped. Neil Emerick had kicked the wheelbarrow of manure and straw over and was ranting at a cowering Jimmy with the goatee to clean it up. Emerick looked up and homed in on Jessie. Even at that distance, she could see his face redden. He stormed toward her.

Had Jessie given into her survival instincts, she’d have high-tailed it out of there. The barn across the road showed no signs of human life. For a fleeting moment, it occurred to her that Sherry, who’d threatened to push her into the pool, was the only witness or possible rescuer in sight.

“What the hell are you still doing here?” Emerick’s face was the same color as Sullivan’s road rash. “Are you done with that horse or not?”

Jessie straightened. “I’m done. You were lucky. The additional damage to the tendon is minor and shouldn’t significantly delay his healing.”

“Lucky, huh?” Emerick leaned in, his face only inches from hers. His stale breath ruffled the strands of her hair hanging loose from her ball cap. “If you want your luck to hold, you’d better get the hell outta here.”

Jessie met his gaze, unblinking. The rage in his eyes made her think perhaps Sherry should have held up one more finger. “I’ll send you my bill.” Without waiting for a retort—or physical violence—she sidestepped him and headed down the shedrow. Toward Jimmy with the goatee and the forbidden part of the barn.

Behind her, Jessie heard his menacing voice raised at Sherry. “I don’t care what happens. Don’t you ever bring that woman into my barn again.”

Jessie anticipated either Emerick or Sherry stopping her as she took the scenic route out of his barn, but no one did. She glanced into each stall she passed. Each stood empty. The only sign of recent occupancy was the one Emerick had been mucking out. And it was now vacant as well.

Ten

Jessie knocked on Daniel’s office door not really expecting him to be there at nine o’clock on a Wednesday morning. He called out for her to come in. Apparently track CEOs didn’t get days off either.

“Jessie.” He rose as she entered the room. “How nice to see you.”

She doubted he’d feel the same once he heard what she had to say.

He motioned to a chair opposite his desk, which she accepted. “I hope you’re here to tell me you’re taking over Doc’s practice.”

“No. In fact, it might be out of my hands.”

Daniel sank into his own chair. “What do you mean?”

Sherry’s relationship with Doc wasn’t part of Jessie’s agenda. “Never mind. That’s not why I’m here.”

“Oh?” He rested his forearms on the desk. “That tranquilizer. Acepromazine. Did you ever find out why Doc gave it to Clown?”

“I don’t believe he did.” She told him about the records she’d tracked down at Doc’s house and the notations about the horse’s reaction to the drug.

“If Doc didn’t administer it, who did?”

“That’s what I’m trying to find out. According to Zelda, everyone knew about it, but maybe someone new to the track didn’t.” Jessie’s throat tightened. “Otherwise, whoever gave Clown the drug did it intentionally, knowing what would happen.”

“Sounds like you think someone meant for Doc to be killed.”

Jessie held his gaze. And her tongue. She waited for him to tell her she was crazy.

Instead, he asked, “Any idea who?”

“What do you know about Butch?”

“Butch?” Daniel frowned. “From security?”

“Yeah.”

“Not much. You suspect him? Why?”

“I heard he’s been doing some loan sharking on the side.” Sherry had made it sound viable. Coming from Jessie’s mouth, it sounded lame.

“Loan sharking.” The look on Daniel’s face suggested he agreed with Jessie’s latest assessment.

“That’s what I heard. And that Doc was blackmailing him.”

Daniel picked up a pencil and tapped it on the desk. “I’ll look into it.”

“There’s also Frank Hamilton.”

The pencil fell still. “What about Frank Hamilton?”

Jessie wondered if this was going to sound insane too. “I understand he’s been involved in fixing some races.”

“Damn it. I warned him if I ever caught him trying that again...”

Maybe Sherry wasn’t so far off base after all. Which left Jessie pondering the third name on Sherry’s list.

The pencil continued drumming. “But why would Hamilton have reason to harm Doc?”

“Apparently, Doc knew what was going on and was putting some pressure on him.”

“I’ll look into that too.” Daniel used his drumstick to jot a note. “How’d you find out all this?”

Jessie wasn’t sure she wanted to reveal her source. Then she thought of the pool. “Sherry Malone.”

“Ah.” He nodded as if he should have guessed. “She was Doc’s assistant, so she would know.”

“She’s also his daughter.”

The pencil slipped from Daniel’s fingers and clattered from the desk to the floor. “You’re kidding.”

“I don’t have a paternity test to prove it, but according to her, it’s true.”

Daniel swiveled his chair toward the window overlooking the outdoor paddock.

Jessie studied his profile. His strong jaw. Dimples that were aging into creases. A flush of warmth rose to her neck. She lowered her eyes and hooked a finger in her collar, giving it a tug. Good thing Meryl wasn’t here.

“Jessie? Are you all right?”

She looked up to find Daniel watching her. “Sherry believes Doc left her his practice in his will.”

“That’s what you meant