Death by Equine by Annette Dashofy (booksvooks txt) 📕

my job. It’s criminal behavior to misuse law enforcement databases.”

“You’re kidding.”

Greg nudged Molly off his lap. “Nope.”

Jessie let out a discouraged growl. She realized she had one more straw to grasp. One more shot to confirm her belief that Sherry was setting Daniel up. Jessie strode out of the office.

Greg’s voice trailed after her. “Where are you going?”

She unlocked and opened the medicine cabinet, removed a small brown paper bag marked with the initials D. S., and turned to find Greg had followed her, as she knew he would. “This is the bottle I took from Daniel’s tack room.”

“You mean stole.”

She glowered at him. “I wore gloves when I handled it.”

“What do you want me to do with it? It’s not evidence. If it was, you’ve destroyed any chain of custody, rendering it completely inadmissible in court.”

“Just check it for prints. Daniel’s or...” Or Sherry’s. “Or anyone else’s.”

“It’s not that simple. A case number would have to be assigned. And since there is no criminal investigation—”

“Because Doc’s death was an accident.” Jessie made no effort to camouflage her disgust.

“Exactly. I can’t run fingerprints without good reason. Not to mention you wanted me to dig quietly. Once they go in the system, there is no ‘quietly.’” But he took the bag.

“Then what are you going to do with that?”

“Nothing.”

She studied his poker face and wasn’t sure she believed him.

“Try to stay out of trouble, okay?”

“I’ll try.”

“Uh-huh,” he said doubtfully as he headed for the door.

By noon on Sunday, Jessie felt as though she was the one carrying a contagious disease. She had all the usual calls for post-workout problems, a couple of hock injections, and one filly with a mystery gash above her eye that required stitches. But there was no jovial banter or small talk on the part of the trainers. Every single human Jessie encountered treated her quietly, professionally, and with a chill that threatened to freeze every water bucket on the premises.

She could only wonder how they would treat her after the test results came in.

The warmth of the spring sun made up for the frigid attitudes on the backside. A perfect day for a drive to the Dodds’ farm.

“Thanks for coming out. I know you’re terribly busy.” No stray wisp of hay or bits of dust sullied Catherine’s flawless black jeans tucked into Dan Post boots. Her auburn hair was gathered high on her head in a ponytail that hung down the back of a curve-hugging red tank top.

Jessie made a feeble attempt to brush off her own dusty Wranglers.

“I don’t really know what I expect from you,” Catherine said. “I guess I hope you’ll tell me it’s all been a big mistake. That Blue’s going to be just fine.”

Jessie smiled at her. She knew Catherine was holding onto a dream and could sympathize. Letting go—admitting defeat—sucked.

Catherine led the way into the stable. She lifted a lead shank from a hook on the barn wall and unlatched a stall door. Jessie watched as Catherine fed the chain through the big gray’s halter. He followed her out of the stall, jittery but obedient.

Jessie studied the horse. Mexicali Blue was about as nice a piece of horseflesh as she was likely to encounter. She approached him and placed a hand on the broad space between his large, dark eyes then slid the hand up between his small ears, running her fingers through his steel-gray forelock. She touched his jaw, which was the size of a holiday platter, and then traced the heavy muscle of his neck, from behind his jaw all the way to his perfectly sloped shoulder. Not a rib showed beneath his coat. Everything about him was round and hard and powerful.

Then Jessie’s gaze dropped to his feet. What a shame. She understood Catherine’s frustration.

“It’s a pity, isn’t it?” Catherine said. “He looks like a gray version of Secretariat. But that damned foot...”

“Let’s have a look and see if anything’s changed for the better, okay?” Jessie hoped her optimism didn’t sound as false as it felt.

“That’s why I called you.”

“Let’s take him out on the cement.”

Jessie headed outside to her truck and pulled her portable x-ray machine from the back of the storage unit. Catherine led the gray stallion to the paved apron in front of the barn. Jessie set the console on the ground and uncoiled the cables, watching as Blue tossed his head and nipped at Catherine.

“Cut it out,” Catherine scolded the horse. Then to Jessie she said, “Milt told me about the quarantine and the sick horses at the track. With everything going on, I was relieved you agreed to drive out here.”

“Actually, it’s only one sick horse.” So far.

Catherine seemed not to notice the correction. “There’s another reason I’m glad you could come. I wanted to talk to you. Privately.”

“What about?”

“You know that conversation we had a few days ago?”

Jessie froze. “About you and Doc?”

“Yeah. About that.” Catherine shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “I was hoping you could forget what I said. I overreacted, thinking Milt could possibly be sleeping around.” She shifted back to the first foot. “I shouldn’t have burdened you with my unfounded suspicions.”

Jessie went back to plugging in the cables. “I kind of thought that myself,” she said under her breath.

“Huh?”

“Nothing. You don’t believe Milt was having an affair?”

When Catherine didn’t respond, Jessie looked up. Catherine’s eyes seemed to be searching the distant hillside for something. An answer, maybe. “I choose to believe he’s been faithful to me.” She emphasized each word. Jessie wondered which of them she was trying to convince.

Choose to believe. Jessie let the comment hang while she concentrated on tapping her patient’s information onto the screen. When she finished, she looked up at Catherine. “What about you and Doc? Do you choose to forget that ever happened too?”

Catherine’s voice dropped an octave. “I would prefer if you did.”

Jessie positioned the digital sensor panel and ordered Catherine to hold it still. “Steady there, old man,” she said to Blue and tapped the