Death by Equine by Annette Dashofy (booksvooks txt) 📕

Boxes of folders filled the truck’s cab, leaving barely enough room for Jessie. More boxes packed the center portion of the storage unit. Loose files had been tucked in anywhere and everywhere. She itched to dig into them, but with Meryl taking over at the track, Jessie had a busy day ahead at her hospital.

She watched as one of her clients carried a small plastic crate toward the front door. Meryl had warned her that she had a full slate of surgeries lined up for the morning, followed by a packed schedule of appointments. “Welcome back,” Meryl had told her with entirely too much glee.

Choosing to avoid the clamor her staff would raise if she trailed in behind the client, she headed around to the side door for a less grand entrance. She lifted a white lab coat from the hook on the wall. Let the day begin.

Meryl hadn’t been exaggerating. The morning was a blur of spays, neuters, and dental cleanings with a couple of biopsies thrown in. With only one vet working, all appointments were jammed into the afternoon hours. There was no time for lunch, even though Jessie’s own kitchen was right next door. She found herself longing for an order of rec hall french fries.

By the time she finished writing a prescription for her final patient of the day, the clock read 7:25. Later than usual for hospital hours. She was beat but kept thinking about the track. The first race was history. Entries for the second should be at the post. Meryl still had a long evening ahead of her.

Exhausted or not, Jessie would’ve loved to trade places with her. Milt was right. She’d fallen in love with Riverview.

Jessie bid her receptionist and both techs goodnight and headed outside for the first time all day. She immediately walked into a wall of humidity charged with electricity. Black clouds boiled in the western sky.

She opened the passenger door of the Chevy and looked at the mountain of boxes. Meryl wasn’t the only one with a long night ahead.

Lugging two boxes, one stacked on top of the other, when a single one would’ve been the wiser move, Jessie picked her way down the path to her back porch. She braced the boxes between her shoulder and the doorframe as she unlocked and opened the door.

A wide-eyed Vanessa met her in the kitchen. “I thought someone was breaking in again. What are you doing here?”

Jessie staggered past her into the dining room with the boxes. “Burglars generally don’t use keys. And what are you doing here? Where’s Greg?”

“He’s working. I’m watching the house.”

Jessie couldn’t see Vanessa’s face, but from the sound of her voice, she apparently took this as a very important job. “Well, I’m here now. You can go.”

“Um. I can’t. I don’t have my car.”

Jessie pivoted to catch a glimpse of Vanessa biting her lip. “Fine. Just stay out of my way.”

When Jessie hit the bottom step, Peanut came bounding down from the second floor, tail wagging and tongue draped out the side of his smiling mouth.

With no free hand to pet him, she braced herself against his greeting. He bumped into her legs, bouncing as if trying to leap into her arms. “Come on, baby,” Jessie cooed and started up the stairs. The dog followed and then proceeded to escort her on each of her eight trips from the truck to her office.

On the fourth or fifth trek through the house, Jessie stopped in front of Vanessa, who had snuggled into the overstuffed chair in the dining room with a book. Molly curled in her lap. “Where’s the kitten?” Jessie asked.

Vanessa lifted her head and gave the room a quick scan. “I don’t know. He’s around here somewhere.” Then she returned to her reading.

By the time Jessie carted the last stack of folders down the hill from her truck, she was grateful to have beaten the weather. The wind had kicked up, and the black and gray clouds flickered with lightning.

With the boxes stacked haphazardly around the room, Jessie rolled her office chair out from the desk and found the tabby curled up in the seat. She ran a hand over his pumpkin-colored coat. He awoke with a soft mew and leaned into her hand. She really needed to name him.

After raiding the refrigerator and throwing together a cheese, tomato and cucumber sandwich, Jessie grabbed a ginger ale and carried her makeshift dinner back to the office. With the tabby in her lap, the sandwich and soda at her elbow, she began to sort through the files, beginning with A.

The food didn’t last through the Bs. By the end of the Cs, the tabby had relocated to the windowsill to watch Mother Nature’s light show. Jessie hadn’t found anything questionable. She stood up and stretched. Peanut followed her downstairs where she intended to dig up a bag of chips or something equally unhealthy to keep her going. She found Vanessa in the kitchen—her kitchen—sliding a frozen pizza into the oven.

“Want some?” Vanessa asked without much enthusiasm. Jessie imagined the offer had been made only because she’d been caught.

“Maybe later.” Jessie grabbed a half-eaten bag of Kettle Korn and a bottle of water and retreated upstairs, accompanied by the rumble of thunder.

She was two-thirds of the way through the Ds when she came across the file marked “Dodd.” Pushing the Kettle Korn to one side, she spread the papers out on the desk, studying each one.

Catherine had gone through more than two dozen horses over the last few years in her quest for a champion. Most had come and gone in short order, leaving only a page of notes. One of the thicker packets belonged to the Kentucky Derby aspirant turned lame has-been, Mexicali Blue. Curious, Jessie leaned forward to study Doc’s findings.

The first thing that startled her was the pre-purchase exam report, performed while Emerick still owned the horse. The test findings revealed no sign of lameness. That