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

before ambling out the door, waving one dainty hand as she went.

Jessie stared at the container of cold eggs. Even if they’d still been hot, she didn’t think she could choke them down. She picked up the box and dropped it in the trash.

Jessie had started entering the first of Doc’s old records on her laptop when a knock on the office door jolted her. She looked up to find Milt grinning through the glass. She waved him in.

“Hey, darlin’.” Milt closed the door behind him. “What’re you doing here on your day off?”

“Paperwork.”

He ambled in and flopped down on the old sofa. “Anyone ever tell you that you’re a workaholic?”

Jessie made a face. “Yeah. Greg.” She watched Milt sprawl out, crossing his ankles as they hung off the not-quite-long-enough couch. The Dodd family were certainly making themselves comfortable in her office today. “I’ve got nothing better to do, so I’ve started computerizing Doc’s files,” she said.

“Why bother if you don’t plan on taking over his practice?”

Jessie snorted. “I didn’t think you paid attention when I told you I wasn’t staying.” She tried to focus on the information she was typing, but Milt’s question stuck in her head. Why was she bothering with Doc’s records? Why was the idea of Sherry inheriting his practice creating knots of tension in Jessie’s shoulders? And why was Jessie hoping Milt had been right about Doc not leaving his practice to Sherry?

“Hello?”

Jessie realized Milt had been talking. “I’m sorry. What?”

“I said, I pay attention to everything you say, but I also know when you’re kidding yourself.”

Before Jessie had a chance to come up with a retort, the office door crashed open. She jumped, certain the glass was about to shatter. A crimson-faced Frank Hamilton stood in the doorway.

Milt jumped to his feet. “What the hell, Hamilton?”

“This has nothing to do with you, Dodd.” The paddock judge didn’t take his eyes off Jessie. “My business is with the doctor. You should go find a horse to shoe.”

Jessie recalled her last face-to-face with Frank Hamilton in the paddock. That night he’d been stern and authoritative, dressing her down for encroaching in his territory. The man who stood before her now displayed no such self-control. She shot a pleading glance at Milt.

The blacksmith hooked his thumbs in his jeans’ pockets. “I’m not going anywhere with you acting like this, Hamilton.”

Jessie released a breath.

Hamilton ignored the blacksmith and took two steps toward her. “You, Dr. Cameron, are meddling in affairs that are none of your concern.”

The man stood several inches taller than Jessie, but she countered his attempt at intimidation by rising slowly from her chair and stalking around the desk. Keeping her voice low, she said, “Get out of my office.”

“Or what? Are you going to turn me in to Daniel Shumway again?” He took another step closer. “I don’t appreciate people threatening my job. I told you before to stay out of my paddock. Now I’m telling you to stay the hell out of my business.”

Milt took one long stride and grabbed Hamilton by the arm. “You wanna tell me what this is all about?”

Hamilton tried to tug free. “Stay out of this, Dodd.”

Milt’s grip held. “Sorry. Can’t do that.”

The two men glowered, fists clenched. Before they could come to blows, Jessie jumped in. “Sherry told me you’ve been fixing races, and Doc knew about it.” Neither man blinked. “I told Daniel and got the impression he wasn’t surprised by the news.”

Milt and Hamilton continued to glare at each other, however a hint of a smile flickered across the blacksmith’s face. “At it again, are you, Hamilton?”

The paddock judge tried to wrest his arm free. “No, I’m not. And no one can prove otherwise. Not you. Not Shumway.” His gaze turned to Jessie. “Not you either. And certainly not Doc.”

The tone of his voice sent a chill through her. “Certainly not Doc,” she said. “Seeing as he’s dead.”

Hamilton lunged at Jessie. She tried to step back, but her leg hit the desk. She scrambled to keep her balance. Milt hauled Hamilton away from her, but the paddock judge swung his free arm. The fist connected with Milt’s jaw with a sickening pop. Jessie yelped. Milt staggered. Caught himself. And charged.

Hamilton oofed as Milt’s shoulder impacted his midsection. The next thing Jessie knew, Hamilton slammed into her, sending her over the desk. Something jammed into her back as she tumbled sending electrical sparks of pain screaming up her spine. Pens, veterinary reports, and notes went sailing. With Hamilton on top of her, they both skidded across the desk.

Jessie expected to go all the way over. She pictured herself landing headfirst in the office chair. But the weight of the paddock judge not only crushed the air out of her, it dragged her to a stop.

Hamilton groaned.

Jessie wished she could groan too. She hadn’t realized how big a man Hamilton was until all two-hundred-pounds-plus of him flattened her. She tried to maneuver her arms in closer to her body so she could leverage him off, but he didn’t budge.

Suddenly the weight lifted. Jessie gasped for air. She looked up to see that Milt had hoisted Hamilton up by his collar. “Jessie, darlin’, are you all right?”

Her initial reaction was hell no. Something hard and sharp bit into her back. Her ribs ached. She was bent backward over her desk and still feared she might end up on her head. The only word she could muster was, “Ouch.”

Milt shoved Hamilton down onto the sofa and caught Jessie’s arm. She let him pull her up to sit. His gaze looked past her, and his eyes widened. “Oh, mercy.”

She turned and discovered why her back stung like she’d tangled with a porcupine. Her laptop lay in shambles where she’d fallen on it. The screen’s glass had shattered in a design to rival a spider’s web. Instead of showing the record she’d been working on, it looked like an abstract painting complete with a rainbow of color. Several of the keys had