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

to Frank Hamilton’s visit. Her shopping list was getting longer. “Something else that’s odd. They burned a stack of Doc’s files I’d taken home with me.”

Milt stopped petting the kitten and frowned. “Why would anybody do that?”

“I don’t know.” Jessie rested her head on the back of the chair. “I don’t know why any of this is happening.”

The door swung open again, and Greg in his State Trooper uniform strolled in, carrying a nylon duffel bag.

Milt climbed to his feet. “Well, darlin’, I’d best be going. Remember what I said. My offer stands.” Milt shook a finger at Jessie and then let himself out.

“What offer?” Greg asked.

“To let me stay with him and Catherine.”

Greg set the bag on the desk next to Molly. “I’ve come to take your fingerprints. I need to determine which prints at the house belong there and which ones don’t.”

Jessie checked her watch. “Okay, but I’ve got to look at a horse in fifteen minutes.”

He unclipped a pair of buckles and flipped the bag open. “No problem.”

“Have you found anything?”

“I haven’t had a chance to do a thorough investigation yet. I did a quick walk-through before boarding up the window. I’m headed back over there as soon as I finish up with this.”

Jessie considered asking if he’d taken Vanessa’s fingerprints but didn’t feel up to the ensuing argument. Besides, as she’d expected, in the light of day, the petite blonde looked less and less like the culprit.

“What time do you think you can meet me?” Greg asked.

“About two?”

“Good.” He inked each of her fingers and rolled them from one edge to the other against a card, which he labeled and tucked back into the box. After repeating the process on her other hand, he offered her a paper towel.

She scowled at the mess. More black gunk. She still had soot under her fingernails. “Why don’t you have one of those scanner things to do this?”

“It’s broken.”

Just like her window. Their marriage. Her life.

Greg’s head tilted toward the duffel, but his gaze rested on her face. “When did you and Shumway start seeing each other?”

“Last night. Started and finished. I blew it.” She cringed. Why confess to Greg, of all people?

His gaze shifted back to the fingerprinting kit. “If that’s true, Shumway’s a fool.” Greg packed his gear and closed the lid. “Are you okay?”

“I’m terrific,” she said without conviction.

“Maybe you should take Milt up on his invitation.”

She glowered at him. “Maybe you should find out who busted up my house.”

He rubbed Molly’s ears before picking up the duffel bag and heading for the door. “Two o’clock, then?”

“Yep.”

He pulled the door shut behind him, and Jessie felt the emptiness close in on her.

Fourteen

Walt McCutcheon, a stout red-haired man wearing a beat-up ballcap, stood outside Barn P when Jessie pulled up. The call was for a Coggins test, and when the trainer approached her truck before she had a chance to open the door, she hoped she was wrong about what was coming next.

“Dr. Cameron.” He handed her a folded piece of paper through the open window. The old Coggins test with all the horse and owner’s information. “I sure appreciate this. You’ll put it on my bill, right?”

“Yes, sir.” She kept a hand on the door handle, but he stood too close. She’d hit him if she tried to open it.

“All righty then. Thanks.” McCutcheon slapped the truck and turned to leave.

Jessie seized the opportunity and opened the door. The trainer turned back to her, his face the picture of confusion. “Was there something else, Doctor?”

“I have to see the horse. Draw his blood.”

“Oh.” McCutcheon’s eyes widened. “Oh. I just assumed...I’m sorry. Doc was always so busy. Of course. Right this way.”

She tucked the pad of test forms under one arm, opened the compartment in the storage unit to retrieve the plastic bin containing empty Vacutainers and clean needles, and wondered. How could she dismiss Doc’s laziness as a one-time occurrence now?

JESSIE SAT BEHIND THE wheel of the Chevy, jotting notes about a lame colt she’d just examined. He’d likely run his last race until fall at the earliest, but she had a difficult time concentrating on the paperwork.

Out of everything that had come to light about Doc in recent days, this Coggins test situation weighed heaviest on her mind. While her view of him as an honorable man had been sullied beyond repair, she’d still clung to the belief that he was a good vet who cared for the animals above all else.

Until now. Bypassing the legally required procedures for running a Coggins test potentially put all horses at risk. If EIA, the highly infectious disease the test screened for, managed to slip into the track’s stables, carried by a horse with fraudulent papers, untold numbers of animals could be destroyed.

A loud metallic boom jarred her from her quandary. She lifted her head and saw Daniel standing next to her truck’s front fender, his palm resting on the hood he’d just slapped, a dimpled grin on his tanned face. “Wake up.”

“I am awake, thank you very much.”

“I’ve been looking all over for you.”

“That’s where I’ve been. All over.”

He moved to the door and rested his forearms on it. “I tried to call you earlier at your house but got no answer. Then I ran into Milt. He told me what happened.” Daniel’s expression turned grave. “I should’ve seen you in last night instead of just dumping you at the door.”

“You didn’t just dump me. I don’t recall inviting you in.”

“Oh, yeah.” The dimples returned. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m sure. But I hope you don’t mind if I camp out here for a while until Greg gets this sorted out.”

“Here? At the track?”

“In my office.” She wondered if he noticed she didn’t refer to it as Doc’s office.

He gave no indication if he had. “I don’t mind, but it can’t be very comfortable. Why don’t you stay at my house?”

Everyone wanted her to move in with them. “That’s sweet, but I don’t