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

popped from the keyboard. Jessie suspected some of them might be imbedded in her back. She swore.

Milt wiped a hand across his mouth. “Don’t suppose you had that stuff backed up, did you?”

Jessie stood and winced at the pain. “Some of it. Not all. None of what I did today.” She looked at the floor where all her notes and two manila folders of Doc’s records lay scattered. She swore again.

Frank Hamilton staggered to his feet. Milt turned toward him, braced to take a swing. Hamilton held up both hands. “Enough, Dodd.” He sidestepped to the door without taking his eyes off Milt and Jessie. “I’m filing assault charges against both of you.” He pointed to Jessie. “And if you ever say one word about me again, I’ll sue you for libel.” Then he wheeled and stormed out.

“That would be slander,” Jessie called after him. But he gave no indication he’d heard her. She eyed Milt. “If he’s going to sue me, he should at least get the charge right.”

Milt chuckled. “And he’s filing assault charges against both of us?”

“I assaulted his back with my face. If the cops come after you, send them to see me. He took the first swing. I saw it.” She reached around to rub the sore spot on her spine. “My poor laptop.”

Milt circled the desk and bent to pick up a handful of papers. “I’ll help you sort these.”

She took them from him. “Don’t be silly. Besides, there’s no rush. I can’t do much until I get a new computer. Go on. Get outta here.”

He frowned at the mess and then at Jessie. “I shoulda busted him one in the jaw.”

“What good would that have done? Then he’d really have grounds for assault charges.”

The frown turned into an impish grin. “But it would’ve been fun to give him a bloody lip. That no-good jackass. Gives the rest of us track people a bad name.”

She nodded in agreement. “Go home, Milt. And thanks.”

He thumped her on the shoulder and walked away.

As he crossed the exam area, Jessie remembered her visit from Catherine. She’d been trying to forget it, but there was one issue she needed to address. “Hey, Milt,” she called from the office door.

He turned toward her.

“Tell Catherine I’ll stop by tomorrow afternoon.”

A look of puzzlement crossed his face. “Why?”

“She asked me to take some new x-rays of Blue’s foot.”

He shook his head. “I don’t know why she wants to waste more money on that boy, but she’s the boss.” With a wave, he left.

Jessie returned to her desk and scooped up an armload of records. She thought of Frank Hamilton and his threats of an assault charge. Dumping the papers next to the mashed laptop, she reached for the phone. If anyone was going to bring the cops into this mess, it was going to be her.

Eleven

“Damn it, Jess. How many times do I have to tell you to leave the investigating to me?”

“About as many times as it takes for you to actually do some investigating.”

They stood toe-to-toe in front of Jessie’s desk and demolished laptop. Greg towered over her, one hand on his hip, the other on his sidearm. He might have struck anyone else as an intimidating figure in his state trooper uniform. She was immune to it.

She calmly ran down a partial list of suspicious activities, beginning with Sherry’s familial connection to Doc and her potential inheritance, touching on Butch and his personal loans side gig, and ending with Frank Hamilton’s recent visit and resulting destruction of electronic equipment. At least, she started out calm. By the time she got to the part about being pinned between a large man and a smashed computer, she’d lost a considerable amount of her composure.

A muscle twitched in Greg’s jaw. “Do you want to file a complaint against this Hamilton fellow?”

“Yes,” she snapped. Mental images of her future flashed through her brain. Lawyers stating Hamilton hadn’t done anything but had in fact been the victim of Milt Dodd’s attack. Countersuits against Milt. And against her for slander. After all, she’d only been repeating what Sherry had told her. “No.”

“Wise choice. You’re stirring up a hornet’s nest around this place. The best thing you can do is let it all drop and get out of here. Let this woman who alleges to be Doc’s daughter have the damned practice if she wants it so bad.”

“But what about Doc’s murder?”

Greg raised both fists, clenched and shaking. “There was no murder.”

A timid knock at the door interrupted them. A teenage girl with tears streaking her freckled cheeks peered at them through the glass, a bundle of towels clutched to her chest. Greg strode to the back corner of the office as Jessie opened the door. “Can I help you?”

In a shuddering voice, the girl introduced herself as Katie and said she cleaned stalls in Barn M. She gingerly unfolded one corner of the bundle to reveal a pitiful, half-grown orange and white tabby. “One of the horses stepped on him.” She hiccupped. “I think his back is broke.”

Jessie glanced at Greg. He waved a hand. “Go ahead. I’ll wait.”

She escorted the girl into the exam area, gently took the bundle from her, and set it on a stainless-steel table. Once unwrapped, the small cat made no effort to escape. He rumbled like a small gasoline engine.

“Why’s he purring?” the girl asked.

“Cats don’t just purr when they’re happy.” Jessie probed the feline’s hip and pelvis. “They purr to soothe themselves too.”

“Oh.”

“The good news is his back isn’t broken. The bad news is, I think his hip is.”

“Can you save him?”

Rock music burst from Jessie’s pocket. A quick check of her phone revealed a text about an emergency two barns down. “Tell you what, Katie. You leave the little guy here. I’ll see what I can do to fix him up. Check back around three o’clock this afternoon. Okay?”

She flashed a smile through her tears before bolting out the door.

Jessie scooped up the kitty