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

was parked almost directly across from the finish line. Ten young hopefuls, none of whom had broken their maiden. For Risky, it was his first attempt. For a few of the others, it was a second or third try at a win.

Surveying the area in front of the grandstand, Jessie spotted an unoccupied picnic table on the nearby deck. She darted through a group of bettors studying their programs and took the two steps onto the platform with one big stride, only to see a couple of older men claim the table as their own. Muttering under her breath, she turned and slammed into the person behind her.

“Sorry,” she sputtered before looking up to see her victim happened to be the track CEO.

Daniel Shumway let loose a deep laugh. “Well, hello, Jessie. I was hoping to bump into you at some point. Didn’t think it would be quite so literally.”

Jessie’s cheeks warmed. Daniel was the kind of guy men liked to hang out with and women wanted all to themselves. His rugged outdoorsman appeal had never been lost on Jessie, even before her marriage had begun to unravel. Back then, she’d secretly rationalized any ogling by thinking, “I can still look as long as I don’t touch.” Not that someone with Daniel’s good looks and sophistication would be even remotely interested in an awkward bookworm like her. And a full body collision didn’t count as touching. More like making a total fool of herself. She stammered an apology.

He waved it off. “Where are you going in such a hurry?”

“I was looking for a place to sit.” She cast a glance at the two men at the picnic table. “But I wasn’t fast enough.”

“How about joining me?” He motioned to another table where an attractive brunette eyed the two of them with a scowl on her face.

“No, thanks.” The last thing Jessie needed was to be the third person in a party for two. “I’ll just watch from the rail.”

“Nonsense.” He gently took her elbow and led her toward the table and the brunette. “I need to talk business with you anyway.”

An embarrassed flush of heat spread down her neck.

Daniel released Jessie and leaned down to buss the woman on the cheek. “Would you mind excusing us for a few minutes?”

The brunette rose, gave Jessie the stink eye, and strutted away.

“Have a seat,” Daniel said.

Instead of taking the woman’s spot, Jessie perched on the table next to a pair of binoculars and braced her boots on the bench. She pointed to the field glasses. “Do you mind?”

“Be my guest.” He took a seat next to her on the picnic table and bumped her with his shoulder.

Jessie scooted over to give him more room, certain the brunette was watching them.

“Are you interested in any horse in particular?” he asked.

Through the lenses, Jessie found Risky loping easily down the backstretch with his lead pony at his side. “Catherine Dodd asked me to take a look at her colt in the paddock. I have a few minutes before my next patient, so I thought I’d stick around for the race.”

He squinted across the track. “Which one?”

“Number Eight. Risky Ridge.” She handed him the binoculars.

“Is he any good?”

She relaxed. Horses were a topic she could handle. “You don’t really expect me to comment, do you?”

“Doctor-patient confidentiality?”

“Something like that.”

Daniel gave the binoculars back to her. “How’ve you been holding up?”

She studied the glasses without raising them to her eyes. “It’s been a rough week.”

“I hope no one here at Riverview has made it any tougher on you.”

She decided to keep quiet about her dust-up with Neil Emerick. “Everyone’s been great.”

“I’m glad to hear it. That makes what I wanted to talk about a little easier.”

Static crackled over the loudspeaker, interrupting him. “The horses are approaching the gate. Soldier Bob is balking.”

Jessie raised the binoculars and focused on the horses bunched behind the starting gate. Neil Emerick’s chestnut had his head in the air again, pulling against the assistant starter who was tugging the horse toward the number one slot.

Daniel shaded his eyes. “What’s going on over there?”

“One of Neil Emerick’s horses. He was acting up in the paddock too.”

Daniel pulled a racing program from his hip pocket and flipped a page. “Soldier Bob. From the looks of his workouts, he has some good speed.”

“If he has enough energy left to show it once the race actually starts.”

“Could be all this carrying on is just an indication of his spirit.”

Jessie had her doubts. “Maybe.”

“Soldier Bob is still refusing to go in the gate.”

Three members of the gate crew worked with the horse. Finally, with one assistant starter at his head and two locking arms behind his rump, the chestnut gelding loaded.

“And Soldier Bob is in.” The announcer called out each horse as it stepped into the gate without a fuss. Including Risky Ridge.

Jessie handed the binoculars back to Daniel, relieved Risky had loaded like a gentleman.

“Catherine’s colt looks good.” He bumped her shoulder again. “I don’t suppose you had anything to do with that.”

“In only a week? Hardly. Besides, the vet just keeps them sound. The trainer gets them in shape.”

“And they’re all in the gate,” crackled over the loudspeakers. “Wait. Soldier Bob has flipped.”

A murmur ran through the crowd.

“Soldier Bob has flipped in the gate.”

Daniel swore.

Jessie’s heart dropped like a brick. A horse that reared in the gate and went all the way over could suffer any number of injuries. The state vet would be right there in case the horse needed treatment, but her phone would soon ring if the horse was badly cut and needed stitches. She wiggled her fingers at Daniel, and he handed her the binoculars. But the starting gate blocked her view.

Several long moments passed. The gelding’s jockey appeared behind the gate dusting himself off. He looked none the worse for having come off his mount twice. A few minutes later, the riderless chestnut appeared. He seemed fine. Jessie released a breath. An assistant starter walked the horse in circles. One