Death by Equine by Annette Dashofy (read this if txt) 📗

study the information to determine which of his clients had horses running that evening and which ones needed Lasix that afternoon. Now the job fell to her.

A knock on the doorframe startled her. She whirled to find Milt Dodd, Catherine’s husband, grinning at her and bumped the coffee mug in the process. Hot brew seared her hand and slopped onto the paper. She gave a yelp and licked the burn to cool it.

“Oh, for cryin’ out loud. I’m sorry, darlin’.” Milt whipped a bandana from his pocket and mopped up the spill. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

Jessie had known Milt for years, going back to her time as Doc’s assistant. One of the track’s blacksmiths, Milt had the kind of face that made pinning an age on him nearly impossible. His full head of white hair and the deep creases where dimples had once framed his easy smile led Jessie to surmise he must be close to sixty. But the impish twinkle in his blue eyes made him seem much younger. Milt never changed. Never aged. She figured either Oklahoma or Texas had given birth to his drawl and his cocksure swagger, but she’d never been sure which.

She rubbed her hand dry on her jeans and held up the splattered overnights with the other. “Guess I should pick up a new copy.”

Milt pulled a crumpled bundle of papers from his hip pocket and peeled one off. “Here. Take one of mine. It’s my fault yours got all slopped up.”

“Thanks.” Jessie slid into Doc’s lumpy chair, sipping from what was left of her coffee. “What can I do for you?”

Milt lowered onto the sofa and crossed an ankle over a knee. “Not a thing. I realized we haven’t crossed paths all week, and I wanted to stop by and say ‘howdy.’”

“That’s nice. Howdy yourself.”

“I think it’s great you’re taking over Doc’s practice. We need some new blood around this stuffy old place.”

Jessie choked. “I’m not—”

“Now don’t get me wrong. Doc was one of my best friends. I miss him something terrible. But you’re a darn sight prettier.”

“I’m not taking over—”

“And...” He dragged the one short word out to almost three syllables. “I wanted to tell you how plum tickled my Catherine was with that colt’s performance last night. You did a helluva job getting him ready.”

“The only thing I did was inject his hocks. He’s been in training long enough that he was due.” Doc would have done the same thing. In fact, he was the one who helped her master the technique.

“All I know is you worked on my wife’s colt, and he actually earned her some money. That makes you nothing short of a hero in my book. Look, I realize this is gonna be hell. Doc was like a daddy to you. Stepping into his boots can’t be much fun. Not to mention some of these track folk can be a pain in the ass. But most of ’em are real decent.” He thumped himself on the chest. “I know which are which. I can let you know which owners you can trust to bill ’em and which ones should pay you up front. In cash.”

“Milt.” She held up a hand to stop him. “I’m not taking over Doc’s practice.”

“Right.” Milt winked at her.

“No, seriously. I have a practice of my own.”

“But you’re here now.”

“Because my partner is pulling double duty covering for me. She’s not going to appreciate me staying one minute longer than the two weeks I promised.”

“So you’ll sell her your share. You need that money to buy Doc’s practice, right?”

“No.” Jessie took another hit of caffeine. “I mean, yes, I would need to sell my practice in order to buy Doc’s. But I’m not.” Her gaze settled on the bank of mismatched metal filing cabinets lined up against the opposite wall. She waved a hand at them. “See those things?”

“What?”

“Those are Doc’s patient files. On paper.”

“So?”

“I loved the man, but he was a Neanderthal where computers are concerned. All of those paper files are making me crazy. His idea of high-tech was this old dinosaur.” She slapped a fax machine on a cart behind her. “And he only agreed to have it here because otherwise he’d have to wait to get test results by mail. Snail mail. Ohio State actually faxed me Clown’s test results the other day instead of emailing them.”

“I see you’ve already started to update the system.” Milt nodded at her laptop perched on the desk.

“That’s for my own record keeping. Whoever eventually takes over this practice will have to transfer all those files onto a computer. It’s not going to be me.”

Milt climbed to his feet, a smug grin on his face. “You’ll hire some computer savvy kid to do it for you. Trust me on this. You’re gonna fall in love with this place in spite of yourself.”

His comment about hiring a kid raised a thought. “Before you go, there is something you might be able to help me with.”

“Name it.”

“Do you happen to know Sherry Malone?”

His eyes momentarily clouded. “Sure, I know Sherry. Everyone around here does.”

“I don’t. Catherine told me she was Doc’s assistant.”

“Yep, she was. Kinda like you used to be. She’s in school to be a vet, just like you were.”

“Where’s she been since Doc died? I haven’t seen her around.”

“Why are you asking? If you’re looking to hire an assistant, I gotta tell you, Sherry isn’t your girl.”

That wasn’t Jessie’s reason for asking, but Milt’s answer stirred her curiosity. “Why not?”

Before he had a chance to reply, a tall dark-haired whirlwind in the form of Dr. Meryl Davidson blew through the exam area and settled to a stop in the office doorway. “I should’ve known I’d find you hanging out with some good-looking cowboy.”

Laughing, Jessie rounded the desk to throw her arms around her business partner and best friend. “What are you doing here? Is everything all right at the hospital?” They both knew she meant the Cameron Veterinary Hospital where Meryl was currently