Death by Equine

by Annette Dashofy

  Katie was pacing in front of the clinic looking pale and worried when Jessie pulled in. “How is he?” the girl asked as Jessie slid down from the truck’s cab.

  Relieved to be back in her comfort zone, Jessie said, “The kitty has a broken hip. I can do surgery and fix him up.”

  “When?”

  “Right now. Check back in a couple of hours. If he’s coming out of the anesthesia by then, you can take him home.”

  Katie smiled and thanked her before jogging away.

  Jessie found the tabby in the same spot where she’d left him, purring in his kennel. She gently scooped him up and carried him into the adjacent operating room.

  The surgery consisted of performing a femoral head ostectomy to remove the broken bone fragment. She’d done many of them and this one went flawlessly. To finish, she created a perfect line of stitches across the cat’s hip. Her handiwork would never be seen once the cat’s fur grew back.

  Five o’clock came and went with no Katie. At five thirty, with only an hour and a half until Daniel would be picking Jessie up, she decided to track down the freckled-faced girl. She made a quick trip to Barn M only to learn that Katie had come down sick and left early.

  “Looks like you’re going home with me,” Jessie told the sleepy cat.

  She crossed the hall to the storage room where she’d seen a plastic cat carrier. Somewhere. As she searched the shelves, her phone rang. Another emergency? She dug the device from her pocket thinking at least she’d have a good excuse to cancel her date. But the text was from Greg. Stop at my apartment on your way home.

  Maybe he’d learned something about Doc’s death. She located the cat carrier and transferred the tabby into it. Before leaving, she gathered an armload of Doc’s folders from her office, as well as the notes and records she’d rescued from the floor following the brawl. Loaded down with paperwork and her patient, she climbed into her truck and headed for West Cumberland.

  Since moving out of their house, Greg had taken up residence above a secondhand store. Jessie turned right at the only traffic light in town, pulled into the alley, and parked behind the building next to Greg’s car. She assured the groggy tabby she wouldn’t be long, climbed the steep stairs to his apartment, and knocked lightly.

  When the door swung open, she expected to see six-foot-four dark-haired Greg. Instead, the person who stood there was barely five feet tall and very blonde.

  “Vanessa?”

  Her receptionist’s eyes widened. “Dr. Cameron. I—I—didn’t think—”

  Jessie struggled to process the scene in front of her. Everything about it was familiar. But the pieces didn’t fit. What was her ditzy receptionist doing in her husband’s apartment?

  Vanessa turned away from Jessie. “Greg! Dr. Cameron’s here.”

  A door squeaked elsewhere in the apartment. Greg appeared from around the corner dressed only in a brown towel wrapped around his hips. “Jess? I didn’t expect you so soon.”

  With a thunk, the pieces fell into place. Vanessa’s tardiness at work. Meryl’s suspicions about a new boyfriend.

  Meryl’s fury at Vanessa last night.

  “Oh, my God.” Jessie averted her eyes from her half naked soon-to-be-ex-husband. “I’m an idiot.”

  Greg strode toward her. “You never head home from the track this early.”

  “I have a date.”

  He stopped. “A what?”

  “A date.” She looked up at him. Noticed his ripped abs. Turned away only to find herself looking into Vanessa’s deer-in-headlights blue eyes.

  “With whom?” Greg demanded.

  “Daniel Shumway.” Jessie immediately regretted it. Her social life was none of Greg’s concern. “You texted me to stop here. Did you find out anything about Doc?”

  Greg put his hands on his hips and must have only then remembered his current state of undress. He clutched at the towel. “No. This isn’t about Doc. Excuse me while I go put on some pants.”

  “Please.” Jessie fixed her gaze on a spider crawling across the stair’s railing. Anything to avoid looking at Greg. Or Vanessa.

  He disappeared into the back room. “Come on in.”

  Jessie stepped around Vanessa into a small but neat kitchen. The aroma of fresh coffee permeated the apartment.

  Peanut rose from his bed on a rug in the living room and, tail wagging, galloped to Jessie.

  Relieved to have something safe to focus her attention on, she dropped to her knees. “Hey, there, old boy.” She threw her arms around the dog who greeted her as if it had been a year since he’d seen her instead of a day.

  “Coffee?” Vanessa asked, her childlike voice even softer than usual.

  “No, thanks. I’m kind of in a hurry.” Jessie gave the dog’s ears a final scratch before standing. Peanut ambled back to his rug and flopped down.

  With the dog out of the way, Jessie and Vanessa stood alone and silent, awkwardly avoiding each other until Greg returned, zipping up his jeans.

  Jessie cleared her throat. “What did you want?”

  He reached toward Vanessa, who moved to his side and wrapped her arms around his waist. “For starters, I wanted to tell you about us.”

  “Okay. I got that. Can I go now?”

  “We’re living together,” Vanessa added with a shy smile.

  Jessie suddenly remembered the restaurant in West Cumberland. “What happened to the redhead?” she asked, making no attempt to hide her contempt.

  Vanessa’s smile faded. She looked up at Greg. “What redhead?”

  His face blazed as he gave Jessie a look he usually reserved for hardened criminals. “That was a long time ago.”

  “Not that long.”

  She could tell he wanted to say more to her, but instead he looked down at the petite blonde, his eyes softening. “It was one date. She meant nothing to me.”

  Vanessa considered his words for a mere moment before forgiving him with a smile. She snuggled in closer. “Go ahead,” she said. “Ask her.”

  Jessie eyed the pair in disbelief. Clearly, Greg had brainwashed Vanessa.

  He brought his attention back to Jessie. “The other thing I’ve wanted to talk to you about...” For a moment the big, tough state trooper struggled to gather his nerve. “It’s about our divorce settlement. We want the house.”

  The room started spinning.

  “This apartment is too small for both of us and Peanut. He needs room to run.”

  “You can’t be serious.” Jessie reached for one of the kitchen chairs. Maybe it wasn’t the room that was spinning. Maybe it was her head. Whatever it was, she wanted it to stop.

  “Yeah, I’m serious.”

  “Our lawyer said we have as much right to that house as you do,” Vanessa said. He gave her shoulder a squeeze and made a shushing sound, shaking his head at her.

  Our lawyer? “Why don’t you just get your own house? Why mine?”

  “That house is huge, too big for one person,” Greg said. “I always dreamed of starting a family there. And you’re never home.”

  “A family?” Jessie pointed at Vanessa’s tiny waist. “Are you...?” The word refused to pass her lips.

  Greg filled in the blank. “Pregnant? No. Not yet anyway.”

  Jessie clung to the chair, willing the screaming pain in her head to shut up. “There is no way in hell I’m giving you two my house. I bought it. I paid to restore it. Hell, I did most of the restoration myself. And what about poor old Molly? She’d have a terrible time adjusting to a move.”

  Greg’s gaze didn’t waver. “I thought about that. We want you to leave her there. We’ll take care of her. She’ll be happy to have Peanut to harass again. And she’ll get more attention from Vanessa than she does from you.”

  Vanessa beamed. “You know how I love cats. And they love me.”

  Jessie glared at the blonde. “I suppose you want to take over Cameron Veterinary Hospital too.”

  “Oh, no. Don’t be silly,” Vanessa said. “I’m not a vet.”r />
  Jessie’s knuckles turned white as she gripped the chair’s back. It wasn’t the room or her head that was spinning. It was her life spiraling out of control.

  “There is no way I’m giving you my house and no way you’re getting Molly.”

  Greg pulled away from Vanessa and took a step toward her, extending a hand. “Jess—”

  “No.” She backed away from him. “It’s not going to happen. Not in my lifetime.” As she turned toward the door, she spotted the look of shock in Vanessa’s eyes. Struggling to catch her breath, Jessie staggered out of the apartment.

  Twelve

  “I should’ve told you as soon as I found out.” Meryl rocked back in her office chair. “But I was too damned pissed and too damned close to wringing that little bitch’s skinny neck.”

  “Don’t hold back.” Sarcasm was as close to humor as Jessie could muster. “Tell me how you really feel.” She checked the clock on the wall. Six fifteen. All she wanted to do was curl up on the floor, pour out her day to Meryl, and then listen as her business partner cussed out everyone from Greg and Vanessa to Sherry and Emerick. But there wasn’t time for that. Dogs barked from the waiting room, reminding her that Meryl had patients to deal with. Jessie tapped the plastic cat carrier she’d placed on the desk. “Mind if I leave this little guy with you?”

  “As a matter of fact, yes, I do.”

  Startled by the response, Jessie flinched. “Why?”

  Meryl rubbed her eyes. “I just managed to clear out post-op. If you leave him here, he’s going to spend the night alone in a cage. Take him down to the house with you.”

  Jessie looked at the small face watching her through the wire door. With his pupils still dilated, the kitten reminded her of one of those seal pups with the big eyes. “I have a date.”

  Meryl fixed Jessie with an incredulous stare. “You what?”

  Jessie didn’t bother to repeat the news.

  “With whom?”

  “Daniel.”

  “When?”

  “Seven o’clock.”

  Meryl did a quick check of the clock. “Tonight?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Then what the hell are you doing here?” She jumped to her feet and stuck the cat carrier in Jessie’s hand. “Go get changed.”

  “I’m thinking about cancelling.”

  “You’ll do no such thing. Daniel Shumway is taking you on a date. Daniel. Shumway. The hottest guy in the tri-state area.”

  Meryl was right, but the pressure only reinforced her nerves. “That’s it. I’m definitely cancelling.”

  “You are not. But if you keep hanging around, it’ll be a moot point.” Meryl gave her a nudge. “Where’s he taking you?”

  “Lorenzo’s. On Mount Washington.”

  “What are you going to wear?”

  “I have no idea.”

  Meryl stopped, her hand resting on the office doorknob. “Jessie, do you even own any makeup?”

  “Depends. Does that stuff have an expiration date?”

  Meryl rolled her eyes. “Wait here.” She backtracked to her desk and tugged her purse from the bottom drawer. After raking through it, she returned to Jessie and pressed several plastic tubes and compacts into her hand. “Wear that brown sarong thing. Now go.”

  As Jessie lugged the cat carrier through the crowded waiting room, Meryl’s voice trailed after her. “I want a full report in the morning.”

  DRESSING UP AND ACTING sophisticated wasn’t exactly Jessie’s forte. All her life, she’d been happier in a barn mucking stalls than at a party or fancy dinner. Why had she agreed to this?

  With a stack of Doc’s files tucked under one arm and the cat carrier with the tabby in her other hand, Jessie crossed the enclosed porch. Molly greeted her inside the kitchen. When Jessie set the cat carrier down in front of her, the old cat sniffed its occupant only briefly before returning her attention to Jessie. Molly was so accustomed to the smell of the vet hospital that a post-op patient didn’t draw so much as a hiss from her.

  “You’re a good little nurse cat, aren’t you, sweetie?” Jessie cooed as she rubbed Molly’s ears.

  The kitten was only interested in sleeping off his hangover, and Molly was only interested in a fresh bowl of food. Jessie left them in the dining room, contented and alone.

  After a glance at the mantle clock, she grabbed the bundle of folders and took the stairs two at a time.

  Lorenzo’s.

  She had never been there but knew of the place. Anyone within a two-hundred-mile radius of Pittsburgh had no doubt heard of Lorenzo’s. Famous for fine food and outrageous prices, Lorenzo’s had played host to four presidents as well as Prince William during his last visit. And now Daniel Shumway—handsome, debonair Daniel Shumway—was taking her there.

  In less than forty minutes.

  She dumped Doc’s records on the desk in her home office, stripped out of her t-shirt and jeans, and scurried into the bathroom wearing only her robe. Adjusting the water temperature to comfortably lukewarm, she stepped into the claw-foot tub. The water pelted her head, shoulders and back as sweat and dust mingled with soap and trickled down the drain. Propping one foot at a time on the rounded edge of the tub, she carefully shaved her legs. But not carefully enough. She soon drew blood. How was it that she performed flawless surgical procedures on all manner of animals, but couldn’t shave her own legs without nicks?

  There was no time to do anything with her incorrigible curly hair. She picked out most of the knots, wishing she’d pilfered some mane and tail conditioner from the track. At fifteen minutes to seven, she retreated to the bedroom.

  Maybe Daniel would be late.

  Maybe Daniel would stand her up.

  The idea cheered her.

  Having finished her dinner, Molly stretched out across Jessie’s bed, settling in for the main attraction.

  In desperation, Jessie stared into her open closet at the dismal selection of dresses hanging on the rod. All had been purchased years ago for some special occasion or other. Heeding Meryl’s suggestion, she pulled a slinky sarong-style dress from the back of the closet and studied it. Moderately low cut, sleeveless with a long skirt that was slit well up the thigh, this dress, she decided, seemed to be the least objectionable of what she currently owned.

  Shoes created an even bigger dilemma. Had she been searching for work boots or sneakers, there would have been a wide selection. But none of the boxes she opened contained anything that looked appropriate. From the very back of the closet, Jessie pulled a battered old shoebox covered in a layer of dust. She flipped the lid off and found a pair of beige high-heeled, open-toed shoes she’d last worn when she dated Greg in college. They had to be at least fifteen years old, but they would have to do.

  Jessie turned from the closet with her old dress and her even older shoes in hand and noticed Molly watching her with an amused expression on her black and white face.

  “Don’t look at me like that, little Miss Molly. We can’t all be naturally beautiful like you.”

  The cat yawned and rolled over on her back.

  Bright red numbers on the bedside clock revealed it was 6:51 when Jessie sorted through the stuff Meryl had pushed on her. Years of surgical training may have paid off in steady hands under pressure, but her eyelids twitched. Mascara soon coated skin as well as lashes. Dabbing with a tissue only spread the smudge. Jessie stared at the raccoon eyes looking back from the mirror and couldn’t decide whether to scream or weep. With the aid of some Q-Tips and a reapplication of liner and mascara, she appraised her reflection. Good enough.

  Her hair was another matter. She finally pulled it up in a twist and stuck in some tortoise-shell combs, hoping they would hold.

  At five minutes after seven, she teetered down the steps in her high heels buoyed by the increasing likelihood he wasn’t going to show. Molly raced downstairs, nearly tripping her. Jessie clutched the banister. She wanted an excuse to get out of the date but not due to a broken leg or neck.

  The
tabby with the shaved hip had begun to show interest in his new surroundings and plinked at the pet carrier’s wire door with his claws.

  Jessie kneeled and peered in at him. “Sorry, little one. You’re confined to quarters for the night.” He might think he was up to some exploring, but she didn’t want to return home to find he’d fallen down the stairs or off a chair. He might be unhappy in his crate, but he would be safe.

  The muffled crunch of rubber on gravel signaled a vehicle was making its way up the lane. Jessie tottered to the kitchen and peered out the window as Daniel climbed out of a vintage Corvette.

  A Corvette? Lorenzo’s? Makeup and a dress? Why couldn’t she simply dive back into dating by having a casual lunch at the diner in West Cumberland? She shook her arms trying to release the tension in her shoulders. Drawing a breath of courage, she crossed the enclosed porch and opened the door just as Daniel lifted his hand to knock.

  “Oh,” he said, momentarily startled. Then he lowered his arm and let his gaze slide down to her feet and back up again. “Wow. You look great.”

  “Thank you.” Judging by the heat in her cheeks, she must be five shades of crimson. “You look pretty good yourself.” His usually tousled sun-bleached hair was styled to perfection, and in a black suit, white dress shirt, and rich red tie, he looked more elegant than any man she’d ever seen, except maybe in movies. Maybe even including the movies.

  “May I come in?”

  She realized she’d been staring. “Sorry. Yes, please.” She stepped aside and let him enter, then closed the door. The darned thing came open when she tested it and forced her to slam it to get the latch to hold.

  Daniel cast a quizzical look at her.

  “I need to get someone out here to fix that.” Jessie slipped past him and led the way through the kitchen into the dining room.

  He surveyed the space. “Nice. I remember this house before you and Greg bought it. It was a shame to see it falling apart. You’ve done a hell of a job restoring it.”