Death by Equine by Annette Dashofy (booksvooks txt) 📕

complain to the CEO about the shortage of menu choices.”

A smile crept across Daniel’s face. “Maybe you should.”

The woman set two large cups of coffee on the counter.

Daniel waggled a finger at Jessie’s order. “Put it on my account.”

“That’s not necessary.”

“Consider it a bribe. I’ve been hearing wonderful things about you from the horsemen.”

Jessie closed the lids on both plastic containers and stacked them. She shoved a plastic fork, a napkin, and a packet of ranch dressing in her jeans’ pocket. Lack of dining choices aside, the idea of making the move to Riverview permanent was growing on her. But giving up her hospital? Abandoning Meryl? “I can’t. I have too much invested in my own practice to jump ship.”

Daniel studied her. “I hope you know I’m going to keep trying to change your mind.”

“Go ahead. But it’s made up.” Talk of Doc’s practice jogged her memory. She moved her lunch and her coffee to a nearby table and pulled out her phone. It showed no new texts or messages. However, her inbox listed the awaited email from Ohio State.

Daniel sipped his coffee. “What is it? An emergency?”

“No. It’s Clown’s blood work from OSU.”

“And?”

“It’s too hard to read. I’ll check it on my computer later.”

Daniel hoisted a thumb toward his office at the back corner of the grandstand. “You can use mine if you want to pull it up now.”

The answer she’d been seeking might very well be in the palm of her hand. Could she stand to wait until later that afternoon, or maybe even that night, to learn the truth?

Patience my ass.

“You wouldn’t mind?”

“I wouldn’t have offered if I did.” Daniel gathered her lunch and strode across the grandstand. Jessie followed him through the doorway and up the long staircase to Riverview Park’s inner sanctum.

Daniel’s private office reminded Jessie of a Thoroughbred racing museum with dozens of framed photo finishes and winner’s circle portraits hanging on the wall. But there was no time to gawk at the artwork. She sunk into his cushy leather chair and logged in to her email. A few clicks later, she studied the attachment listing OSU’s findings and scanned pages of test results. Normal. Normal. Normal. Until she came to the drug panel. That one brought her up short. “Son of a bitch.”

“What?” Daniel peered over her shoulder at the screen.

Jessie scanned the rest of the report before answering. The tests revealed no abnormalities to explain why Doc had been called. The horse had been healthy. However...

“This shows the presence of acepromazine in Clown’s blood.”

Daniel shrugged. “As I understand it, Clown can be a handful. Wouldn’t it be normal procedure to tranquilize him?”

“Normal, yes. Which is why nobody paid attention to this before.” Jessie tapped the monitor with her finger. “But there are some horses that suffer an adverse reaction to ace. If they’re high strung to start with, it can make them behave with excessive aggression.”

“I’ve heard that.”

“Clown is one of those horses.”

“Why would Doc use it on him? Wasn’t he aware of Clown’s history?”

“That’s a good question.” And one she didn’t have an answer for. But she intended to find out.

Six

Afternoon farm calls took longer than Jessie planned, forcing her to launch immediately into her Lasix rounds at the track. Once the races began, she had to alternate between the pre-race injections and the calls for horses coming back from the track in worse shape than when they left. A lull finally hit, and she retreated to the office. All afternoon she’d puzzled over the report from OSU. She wanted desperately to dig into Doc’s files on Clown.

Jessie sensed something wrong the moment the clinic came into sight. The big door stood open a few feet. She’d completely closed it when she left. Lights blazed inside, but she knew darned well she’d turned them off.

Protective impulses took over. She slid down from the cab of the truck, slammed its door, and took two storm-trooper steps toward the building when another possibility stopped her cold.

Veterinarians carried a wide variety of narcotics that were in high demand by junkies and dealers.

She looked toward the stable gate and could see the guard on duty outside his shack. Was he close enough to hear if she screamed for help?

Jessie dug her phone from her pocket and punched in the number for security. Her thumb hovered over the send button. Was she positive she’d shut off the lights? She’d been in such a hurry, maybe she’d forgotten. She’d feel like an idiot if she summoned the guard for nothing.

She moved to the back of her truck and dug a heavy pair of hoof testers from one of the compartments in the storage unit. Armed with the false sense of bravado provided by clutching a blacksmithing tool in one hand and her phone keyed up for security in the other, she slipped inside the clinic.

Light streamed from her office. She was sure she’d locked that door too. A glance at the secured drug cabinets in the corner of the exam area revealed no obvious tampering. If the intruder was after meds, he’d either missed them or hadn’t gotten there yet. A noise she recognized as the slamming of one of Doc’s desk drawers echoed from the office.

“Who’s in here?” she called, trying to sound fierce.

Sherry Malone swung the office door open. “About time you showed up.” She turned and disappeared back into the room.

Irritation replaced fear. All day long, Jessie had hoped to cross paths with Sherry and here she was. Jessie pocketed her phone but held onto the hoof testers and crossed to her office.

Sherry sat at the desk, rifling through the drawers.

Jessie’s grip on the steel tightened. “What are you doing?”

“I’m looking for something.” Sherry slammed one drawer and moved to another.

For the past week, Jessie had felt like an outsider in what she still thought of as Doc’s office, but at the sight of Sherry rummaging around in the desk—Jessie’s desk—her territorial instincts kicked in.

“Excuse me.” She placed a hand on the