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

catching my flight.” She’d told him of the emergency she was dealing with and said she’d get there as soon as she could.

“His last words to me,” Amelia said, “were, ‘I’ll be home as soon as I finish a couple of emergency calls.’ That was right after we had dinner.”

Daniel climbed behind the wheel of his Expedition and touched Amelia’s arm. “There’s nothing we can do here. Let me take you home. We’ll call your kids and ask them to come stay with you.”

She took a shuddering breath. “Yes. I suppose that’s best. I have to cancel our flight...”

“I’ll come over in the morning in case you need anything.” Jessie gave her hand a squeeze.

“Wait.” Amelia suddenly clutched Jessie’s arm. “There is something you can do for me.”

“Anything.”

Amelia gazed hard into Jessie’s eyes. “Find out what took place here tonight. You and I both know how careful Doc always was. I can’t believe he’d put himself in a position to let something like this happen.” She touched Jessie’s cheek. “He loved you like you were one of our own. I do too. Find out why he died. For me. Will you do that?”

Jessie’s vision blurred. Doc had always taught her to be alert around these beautiful, graceful, but high-strung animals. She placed her hand over Amelia’s. “I promise.”

Amelia gave her a tearful smile and leaned back into the seat.

Jessie watched the Expedition drive away until its taillights disappeared. A spring breeze carried a fishy whiff of the nearby river. She closed her eyes. Maybe when she opened them again, she’d be in her bed, and it would have all been nothing more than a bad dream.

Instead, when she opened them, the emergency lights from the police vehicles continued to sweep and flicker, painting the shedrows in splashes of red and blue.

Jessie found Greg standing next to the coroner’s van.

“I’ll do the autopsy in the morning,” the coroner was saying. “Toxicology will take a week or so, but it looks to be fairly cut and dried. We get one or two of these a year. People getting careless around large animals.” He climbed into the driver’s seat. “I’ll get my report to you fellows ASAP.”

Once the coroner had driven away, Greg eyed Jessie. “How’s Amelia?”

“Distraught.” Jessie rolled her shoulders until a knot of tension popped. “Did you find out who called 911?”

“As a matter of fact, yes. Dispatch said the caller didn’t give a name. But would you like to guess the phone number?”

Greg’s grim expression gave her a pretty good idea. “Zelda Peterson’s missing groom?”

“You got it. Larry Popovich is headed over to the kid’s house right now. Maybe he got scared and beat it out of here after seeing what that horse did to Doc. At least he called for help first.”

“A little too late.” But Jessie couldn’t completely blame him for running away. Not after what she’d seen in that stall.

Greg’s phone rang. He glanced at the screen. “That’s Larry now.”

She waited and listened, learning nothing from the one-sided conversation. After several uh-huhs and okays, Greg hung up.

“Well?”

Greg waved the county officers over to include them in the update. “Popovich just called. No sign of Diaz at his apartment. We’ll let you guys know once we catch up to him.”

The taller cop glanced around. “I guess we’re done here for now.”

Jessie choked. “Done? That’s all you’re going to do?”

One of the other officers spread his arms wide. “Look around. There’s no one to question tonight. And if the coroner declares the death accidental, there won’t be anything to investigate.” He extended a hand to Greg. “Thanks for your help tonight, Trooper.”

The county cops pulled out, leaving Jessie’s and Doc’s trucks and Greg’s SUV. And a long silence.

Until Greg broke it. “Are you finished for the night?”

“Almost. I’ll wait until Zelda gets back with her trailer. In case she needs help loading Clown.”

“I’ll wait with you.”

“You don’t have to.” Jessie would prefer he leave. This business of moving on from their marriage was a strain on a good day. Tonight, after losing yet another man in her life, she felt too overwhelmed for the whole “just friends” routine.

“Actually, I do,” he said. “I called for a tow truck for Doc’s pickup. I’ll stay until they get here.”

“Don’t you think you ought to wait for him by the stable gate, so you can direct him back here?”

“I suppose you’re right.” Greg gave her shoulder an awkward pat. “Good night.”

Jessie watched him stroll away. She pried her eyes away from his ass—old habits die hard—and took another long look at the shedrow from which Doc’s body had been removed.

She checked her watch. Doc should’ve been on his way to the airport by now. Amelia’s words echoed in Jessie’s mind. Doc had loved her like one of his own.

He’d never asked her for anything. Just this one small favor. Fill in for him so he could take Amelia to Hawaii. The very first time he passed along an emergency call to her, she’d failed him. Now he was dead.

The agony Jessie had been stuffing down all night finally tore from her throat in a strangled moan.

It should have been her.

Three

Five days later, Jessie leaned on the wood rail fence surrounding Riverview Park’s outdoor paddock and scrutinized the movements of her patient. Inside the oval, ten Thoroughbreds in various states of nerves paraded, led around the circle by handlers wearing brightly colored numbered vests, waiting for the next race. But the only one concerning her at the moment was the sleek black two-year-old named Risky Ridge. The colt’s owner, Catherine Dodd, stood at her side.

“Don’t you just love all this excitement?” Catherine didn’t take her eyes off her horse. “I’ll bet you’ve been over here every night watching the races.”

Jessie freed her unruly hair from the elastic band that had held it, captured a few errant strands, and rebound her long ponytail. “To tell you the truth, this is the first time.”

Catherine looked at her, astonished. “Really?”

“I don’t know how Doc