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

contents of the drawer Sherry was dismantling. “If you’ll just tell me what you need, I’m sure I could find it.”

Sherry eyed the hoof testers and smirked. “You plan on checking to see if I’m sound?”

Jessie contemplated telling her she’d planned to whack the intruder who broke into her office but kept quiet. She might still want to keep that option open. “What are you looking for?” she repeated.

“The appointment book for the equine pool.”

Jessie caught her wrist and withdrew Sherry’s hand before closing the drawer. “It’s not in there.”

Sherry wrenched free from Jessie’s grasp. “It’s supposed to be on the desk over in the spa.”

“Not anymore. I want to keep a closer watch on it.” Plus she wanted to avoid any and all reasons to enter that side of the building. Keeping an eye on Sherry, Jessie moved to one of the aging black metal filing cabinets along the far wall and set the hoof testers on top. From the bottom drawer, she removed the ledger in which horse owners and grooms signed up for swim times for their animals and handed it to Sherry.

“I prefer to keep it by the pool.”

“You’re not in charge. I am.”

Jessie thought for a moment that Sherry might snarl at her. Instead, she thumped the book onto the desk, opened it, and snatched a pen from the old coffee mug. “Something’s come up. I need to change my pool appointment from tomorrow morning to the afternoon.” After scratching out her name on one line and scrawling it on another, she handed the open ledger back to Jessie. “Does that meet with your approval, Doctor?” She made the title sound like an expletive.

Jessie closed the book. “What horse are you bringing in?”

“Sullivan. He’s coming back from a bowed tendon.”

“He’s from Emerick’s stable, right?” Jessie thought of Sherry blocking her access to the shedrow.

“What difference does it make?”

“Just curious. Is Sullivan one of the horses I saw when I was in Neil’s barn on Saturday?”

Sherry tilted her head slowly to one side. For a moment, Jessie didn’t think she was going to answer, but then in a soft voice she said, “Maybe.” She pointed at the appointment book in Jessie’s hands. “You might as well put that back where it belongs. By the pool.”

“I told you—”

“I heard you. But you’re temporary. Before long, I’ll take over, and I want it where it was.”

“Aren’t you jumping the gun? You’re not even licensed yet.”

“I told you before. It’s only a matter of time.”

“Even if you pass the testing, how do you plan to buy Doc’s practice? It’s not going to come cheap. I know from experience the kind of student loans you must have.”

A smug smile crept across Sherry’s face. “That’s not going to be a problem. Just don’t get too comfortable in this office. And stop changing things around. I happen to like everything where it was.” She moved toward the door.

How could Sherry afford to buy an established practice like Doc’s? Jessie was still wondering if she could swing it, even selling her share of her vet hospital to Meryl.

Sherry was almost to the door when Jessie remembered the ashen man. “Wait.”

“What now?”

“I had an interesting call this morning.”

“Good for you.”

“One of Doc’s clients was surprised when I actually intended to draw blood for a Coggins test.”

Sherry’s smirk dissolved. “Who?”

“Harvey Randolph.”

Sherry nodded thoughtfully. “Harvey’s a little strange. Don’t pay attention to him. He was confused is all.”

“He didn’t seem confused to me.”

“Forget about him. All you need to remember is that you’re only temporary.” Sherry sauntered out.

Jessie bristled. Sherry intended on taking over Doc’s practice as if it was her God-given right. “Maybe,” Jessie said to the empty office.

She caressed the worn surface of the appointment book, carried it back to the file cabinet, and replaced it in the spot she had chosen for it. Only then did she remember why she’d returned to her office in the first place. The file drawer rolled open with a rusty squeal that set Jessie’s teeth on edge. Note to self: invest in a can of WD-40.

She sifted through the folders, cursing Doc’s Luddite ways. It was going to take her years to transfer these to digital files. The thought brought her to a stop. Not her. Someone. It was going to take someone years to transfer Doc’s paper to digital.

Not her.

But Sherry? Not if Jessie had anything to say about it.

She resumed her search and finally located a fat folder labeled “Zelda Peterson Stables” under “Z” instead of “P.” Returning to the desk, she opened the file and flipped through the contents.

Doc had kept detailed charts on each of Zelda’s horses, just like he did with all his clients. After paging through the records twice, Jessie couldn’t find anything on Clown Around Town. Puzzled, she returned to the cabinet. Perhaps Doc had a second folder for Zelda. But there was nothing under “P” or “Z.” Jessie even tried “C” for Clown. Nothing.

Frustrated, she flopped down in the desk chair and buried her face in her hands. A rap at the door roused her.

Milt stood in the doorway, grinning. “Hey, darlin’.”

“Hey, yourself.”

“You look beat.”

She rubbed her eyes. “Thanks, pal. Just what a girl likes to hear.”

He chuckled. Gnawing on a well-used toothpick, he pulled a ratty vinyl-upholstered chair away from the wall and sat down, propping his steel-toed work boots on the desk. “You getting settled into your new digs yet?”

“Don’t start on that again.”

“I know you’re gonna stay, and you know you’re gonna stay. You might as well quit fighting it.”

She gave him her best dirty look.

He held up both hands in surrender. “Suit yourself. What’s got you all riled up this evening? Rough day?”

“Yeah.”

“Anything I can help you with?” he asked around the toothpick.

“Only if you can tell me what Doc did with Clown’s file.”

“Sorry. Can’t help you there. Maybe it got misplaced. You’ll probably come across it sometime when you ain’t looking for it.”

“Probably.” She started thumbing through the records yet again. “But it’s not