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

“You’re gonna draw blood?” He seemed surprised.

Jessie wondered if he’d been drinking. “Drawing blood is the normal procedure for running a blood test.”

“Well, yeah. But the old guy...” Randolph shook his head. “He just never bothered. You know?”

No, she didn’t know. “Never bothered?”

“He was a busy man. And Valor, he don’t like needles.” The man’s gray skin grew even paler. “But, hey. Whatever floats your boat. I just hope you brung a twitch. Or a hefty dose of tranquilizer.”

The memory of Doc’s body in Clown’s stall flashed through her mind, but it was overshadowed by Randolph’s words. He just never bothered. She’d heard about unethical veterinarians drawing blood from a “substitute” horse, sending it to the lab under the name of another animal. But that was one of those urban legends. Wasn’t it? True or not, she refused to believe this was something Doc would have condoned. Let alone willingly taken part in. Whether a horse was a handful or not.

“I hate to see you get hurt.” Randolph tugged at his ear. “Why don’t you check with that little gal that used to help Doc?”

“You mean Sherry Malone?”

“Don’t recall her name. His assistant.” He tapped the back of his head. “With the long braid. She took care of a lot of that stuff for him.”

Jesse swung her door open and slid down. “I’ll check with her later. But for now, let’s go see about drawing some blood from this boy.”

“Whatever you say. It’s your funeral.”

She wondered if he noticed her shiver.

Harvey Randolph hadn’t been kidding when he said Extreme Valor didn’t like needles. But she’d been prepared. Doc had trained her well on the skills of staying safe.

The sun gradually burned off the fog and warmed Jessie’s skin as she drove around the shedrows with her window open and her arm hanging out. A skittish filly with an exercise boy on her back appeared from the gap between barns. Jessie braked, preferring to wait and give the young horse space in case the filly decided to test her rider’s skills. The trainer trailed after the horse and rider and gave Jessie a smile and a wave.

Sitting with her foot on the brake, she watched two grooms walk their horses in the road instead of under the cover of the shedrow, soaking up the glorious sunshine. Pigeons swooped across the sky, landing on one of the roofs. A cat sauntered across the road from one barn to another. Over the PA, a monotone voice was giving the rundown on upcoming race entries. A normal, peaceful spring morning on the backside.

Inside her head was another matter entirely.

Could Doc have been taking shortcuts with Coggins tests? Randolph had to be mistaken. Or maybe it had been a one-time occurrence when Doc was extra busy. Somehow, though, she had no trouble believing Sherry might have taken the lazy way out on several occasions.

None of her barn calls this morning took her near Emerick’s stable. Not that she knew what to say if she did run into her. Hey, Sherry, are you dealing in fraudulent Coggins tests? Jessie doubted the direct approach would get her more than a quick and venomous denial.

She picked up her phone and thumbed through her messages, texts, and emails, hoping for something from Ohio State. Nothing. The clock on the dashboard read ten thirty. Still plenty of day ahead to fidget over what those tests might reveal. Be patient.

In her mind, she heard Doc’s gruff voice mutter, “Patience my ass,” and smiled at the memory. Waiting hadn’t been one of his strong suits either.

The cat had disappeared into its destination, and the frisky filly had rounded the far end of the shedrow on her way to the track. Jessie eased the truck toward her next appointment.

By noon, she’d completed her rounds, and her rumbling stomach demanded her attention. A full slate of farm calls promised to keep her running until the afternoon’s Lasix shots required her presence back at the track. Since none of those farms took her near a fast food joint, she headed for the front side and her favorite food concession.

Five minutes later, Jessie bounded up the back stairs into the relative quiet of the grandstand. The musical drone of the slot machines mingled with the low chatter of the television monitors simulcasting races from other venues.

As she waited for her order, she became aware of footsteps behind her. She glanced over her shoulder. Wearing a white shirt unbuttoned at his neck, khakis, and boat shoes, Daniel looked like he’d taken a wrong turn at the beach. Even as a married woman, she had to admit to being attracted to the man, although she’d never act on the attraction. Then she remembered. She wasn’t exactly married anymore.

Daniel offered her a bemused smile. “What’s wrong?”

“Headache.” She rubbed her temple to cover the lie.

“Sorry to hear that.” He leaned against the counter and said to the woman behind it, “Coffee, please.” Then he turned again to Jessie. “What brings you to the front side today?”

“Lunch. The rec hall was too crowded.”

Daniel nodded. “Have you given any more thought to what we spoke about on Friday?”

“You mean Doc’s practice? I haven’t had a chance to check with other vets. Sorry.”

“What about you? I still think you’re the best choice for the position.”

The woman behind the counter set two plastic containers in front of Jessie. “Grilled chicken salad, hold the chicken. And nachos with extra cheese. Be right back with the coffees.”

Jessie dipped a corn chip into the sauce and crunched into it, savoring the salt and the clash of textures. “Sorry.” She hid her mouth and her sheepish grin behind her hand. “I’m starved.”

Daniel eyed her dubious meal choice. “Chicken salad, hold the chicken?”

“I’m vegetarian.” She swallowed the nacho and resisted diving into another. “Never felt right about eating something that might have been a patient of mine.”

“I always assumed vegetarians were...” He motioned toward the too-yellow-to-be-real cheese. “...health conscious.”

“Maybe I should