Death by Equine by Annette Dashofy (booksvooks txt) 📕

Jessie rubbed the throbbing pain between her eyes. “What the hell is going on?”

Daniel’s stony gaze followed the two troopers. “Don’t worry about it. Everything’s going to be all right.”

Jessie wasn’t so sure. The suffocating sensation of being in over her head came back. And she was standing on dry ground.

Greg returned without Popovich, who stayed huddled with the officers from the county police department. “They’re calling in the crime scene unit.”

Jessie repositioned the horse blanket. Besides stinking to high heaven, the thing was getting heavy. “Finally.”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “Finally? It’s only been what?” He checked his watch. “A half hour?”

“More like two and a half weeks. If you’d investigated Doc’s death, this one might not have happened.”

He glanced at Daniel who’d stepped away to speak with one of the officers. Greg lowered his head toward Jessie so his comment would reach her alone. “I did investigate.” His eyes hinted at more, but Daniel’s return kept him from elaborating.

He looked at Greg. “I was talking to your colleagues. They sound like they seriously suspect her.”

“I know.”

She choked on a sip of the lukewarm coffee.

Daniel glared at Greg. “Then why aren’t you over there setting them straight?”

“Wouldn’t do any good. I’m not on this case.”

The pain behind Jessie’s eyes kicked up a notch. “Why not?” She looked at Greg first, then Daniel. Neither of them replied. “Why not?” she repeated, but slower, in case they hadn’t understood her the first time.

Greg looked down at the floor. Daniel was the one to respond. “Conflict of interest.”

The putrid horse blanket’s lining must have been wicking the moisture from her sopping clothes because it felt like it weighed a hundred pounds. She shrugged it from her shoulders. “In other words, the one cop who knows me well enough to know I couldn’t have killed anyone is the cop who’s not allowed to investigate the case.”

“That pretty much sums it up,” Greg said.

She stared into the cold coffee in the cup and wished for something much, much stronger than sugar to add to it.

“Once Larry speaks to Zelda Peterson and the coroner narrows down the time of death, you should be in the clear.”

“Should be?”

“You need to get some rest.”

Jessie looked toward the hallway to her office. Somehow, she found nothing restful about the idea of sleeping less than fifty feet from where Sherry had drowned. And where she had almost fallen victim to the same fate.

Daniel must have read her mind. “Pack your things. You’re coming back to my place tonight.”

Before Jessie had a chance to consider the appealing offer, Greg snapped an answer for her. “No.” He gave her that same dark look that suggested he knew a hell of a lot more than he was saying. “You’re coming back to the house with me.”

She kept her eyes on Greg, but she sensed Daniel tense beside her. “Okay,” she said.

Daniel’s look of displeasure with Greg turned to one of disappointment aimed at her.

She peeled her gaze from the man who had broken her heart, transferring it to the man who simultaneously beguiled and terrified her. “I’ll be more comfortable in my own bed. And Molly will be happy to go home.”

Daniel’s expression softened. “If that’s what you want, then that’s where you should be. I guess our dinner plans for tonight are off?”

She tried to swallow, but her throat was the only dry part of her anatomy. “Raincheck?”

“You bet.” He took a step toward her and pressed a tender kiss to her cheek. In a growl directed at Greg, he said, “Get her out of here. And don’t let anything happen to her.”

Greg’s gaze followed Daniel as he made his way toward the group of local police. “Dinner? Didn’t I tell you to steer clear of him?”

She opened her mouth to explain but was glad when he raised a hand to shush her. After all, she didn’t have much of an explanation.

“Never mind.” He looked past her toward the pool. She wondered if he was trying to imagine what had happened there. “I’m going to tell Popovich we’re leaving. Go pick up Molly and I’ll meet you out front.”

“And the tabby.”

“Right.” He shoved his hands in his back pockets and headed for the other cops.

Jessie picked up the blanket and tossed it on a workbench. She looked toward the crowd gathered at the back doors and spotted a new face among them.

Emerick stood, arms crossed, surveying the scene inside the spa. His dark gaze shifted from the pool to settle on her. From the distance, she couldn’t quite make out his dark expression. Accusatory? Angry?

Smug?

His chin lifted, and there was no doubt about the smirk that crossed his lips before he turned his back and strode away.

JESSIE AWOKE IN HER own bed with the awful sensation of her head being packed with cotton. More specifically, cotton soaked in water from the pool. She sat up and looked around. Everything was in its proper place, so why did she feel like she had been dropped into an episode of the Twilight Zone?

And where were the cats?

Wearing her usual oversized t-shirt, she climbed out of bed and tugged on a pair of jeans. She opened the door—usually she slept with it open, but it seemed inappropriate with Greg in the house—and stepped into the hall.

Apparently, Greg did not share her awkward need for privacy. She peeked inside the guest room where Greg lay on his back, the sheet pulled up to his hips revealing his lean, muscular torso. His arms were crossed behind his head, and he was staring at the ceiling. Molly and the tabby snuggled on either side of him. Peanut lay on the rug next to the bed.

Traitors.

He spotted her and smiled. “Good morning.”

She averted her eyes and mumbled an echo of his greeting. After ten years of marriage, it struck her that she was alone in the house with a stranger. Before she had a chance to say something stupid, she wheeled and padded into