Death by Equine

by Annette Dashofy

  A flush of pride warmed her face. “Thanks.”

  He spotted the plastic crate on the floor. “What do we have here?” He dropped to one knee in front of the box.

  “The little guy got stepped on by one of the horses. I had to do surgery, so he’s spending the night here.”

  Daniel scratched the tabby’s chin through the wire and grinned up at Jessie. “Just tonight?”

  She knew what he was getting at. “That’s the plan. But he’ll need some special attention until he heals.”

  Molly announced her presence with an earsplitting meow.

  “Well, hello.” Daniel turned toward the black and white cat and reached out to stroke her head.

  “She’s deaf,” Jessie said.

  “She’s loud,” he replied.

  “She has to talk loud enough that she can hear herself. That’s Molly, by the way.”

  Daniel stood and turned to face her. “We should be going. We have reservations for eight o’clock. But a few ground rules first.”

  “Ground rules?”

  “No phones.”

  “What?”

  “And no shop talk. We’re not going to discuss anything that’s going on at the track including what happened to Doc.”

  “It could prove to be a very quiet night. But okay.”

  Daniel rubbed his palms together. “Ready?”

  No, she thought. “Let me grab my purse.” She crossed the room to pick up her handbag from one of the dining room chairs and cringed. The ragged black fabric sack didn’t match her dress or her shoes or anything remotely involved with Lorenzo’s. With no alternative, she hid the bag behind her as she turned to him. “Let’s go.”

  She followed him out and slammed the back door twice before it latched. Then she double-checked to make sure it was locked before wobbling up the path behind him.

  BY THE TIME PITTSBURGH traffic forced Daniel’s speed into the reasonable category and the narrow, but aptly named, Grandview Avenue brought the Corvette’s forward progress to little more than a crawl, Jessie’s fingernails had pressed grooves into the black leather passenger seat. She peeked at the speedometer once during the trip and decided to keep her eyes closed for most of the drive.

  Below them, at the bottom of Mount Washington, the Monongahela and Allegheny Rivers merged, giving birth to the Ohio. At their confluence, the fountain in Point State Park formed the centerpiece of the city. From their vantage point high above downtown, Pittsburgh looked like a child’s elaborate toy village.

  “Wow,” Jessie said as she took in the view.

  “Haven’t you been up here before?”

  “Once a long time ago. I’d forgotten how beautiful it was.”

  Jessie’s view vanished behind Lorenzo’s stone and cedar façade. A young man in black pants and vest and white shirt opened the car door for her.

  “Wait.” Daniel stopped her with a hand on her wrist. “Hand over your phone.”

  “You’re serious?”

  “Absolutely.” He held up his own as proof. “If we leave them in the car, we can’t break the ‘no phone’ pledge.”

  With a sigh, she dug hers from her purse. He reached in front of her, opened the glovebox, and deposited his inside. She did likewise.

  “Good,” he said.

  She stepped out into the evening air, which had begun to redevelop a sultry tinge. The valet headed to the driver’s side. Daniel accepted a claim ticket from the young man before rounding the car and placing a hand at the small of Jessie’s back.

  “Shall we?”

  Jessie braced herself. Tucking her ugly black purse under her arm, she let Daniel guide her through the elaborately carved mahogany front doors.

  She stifled a gasp. High-backed gold upholstered chairs surrounded square tables draped in white linen and set with sparkling silverware. Crystal goblets embraced perfectly folded linen napkins. Two walls of floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked Pittsburgh and the Point. Crystalline chandeliers hung from the ceiling. Jessie tried unsuccessfully not to gawk.

  “Mr. Shumway, how divine to see you again.” A tuxedoed maitre d’ greeted them.

  “Mario.” Daniel tipped his head in polite acknowledgement.

  “And your dinner companion is lovely this evening.” The maitre d’ nodded in Jessie’s direction.

  “Indeed, she is.” Daniel smiled at her.

  Her cheeks warmed again. She wondered if he was simply saying whatever Daniel wanted to hear.

  “Your table is ready,” Mario announced after Daniel formally introduced them. “If you’ll follow me...” He ushered them to a table in front of the bank of windows with what had to be the best view in the house. Mario assisted her with her chair, then handed her a menu, which contained no prices.

  Once they were settled, and Mario left them to attend to his duties, Daniel leaned across the table toward her. “What do you think?”

  She tried to take everything in with only moderate success. Aromatic fragrances of roast meat and poultry, butter, onions, and garlic drifted on the air currents of the room. A small band made up of a pianist, a bass player, a violinist, and a drummer played Rodgers and Hart while elegantly attired couples swayed in each other’s arms on the parquet dance floor. “Wow.” Embarrassed, she laughed softly. “I’m really good with the English language, huh? Honestly, I do know other words.”

  “No. ‘Wow’ is a pretty good word for the place. And you haven’t even had their food yet.” Daniel picked up his menu. “What are you hungry for?”

  She opened hers and scanned the options. Lorenzo’s Delmonico, Lamb Shank, Seared Scallops in Champagne-Saffron Sauce, Citrus Roasted Duck...

  “I could make some suggestions if you like.”

  “That’s all right.” She located Mushroom Risotto at the bottom of the page. “My choices are usually slim, but I see something that may work.”

  Daniel tapped the side of his head. “I forgot about you being vegetarian. I’m sure Lorenzo could make something special for you.”

  The idea of the Lorenzo whipping up a dish just for her brought a smile. “Thanks, but no.”

  “It won’t be a problem. Really.” Daniel raised a hand to summon a waiter.

  Jessie reached across the table and caught his arm. “No.” Amusing as the idea had been, the last thing she wanted was to draw attention to herself, her old dress, or anything else. “Please.”

  She hoped the expression on Daniel’s face was one of puzzlement rather than pity. “All right.” He lowered his hand.

  Jessie released his arm, but not before poking at it. “Don’t forget, I’m used to making a meal out of nachos and french fries because of limited menu choices. Mushrooms and rice sound like a delicacy to me.”

  Daniel was still laughing when their waiter arrived.

  THE RISOTTO PROVED to be the ideal choice. Creamy, savory, and seasoned to perfection. Jessie briefly contemplated licking the plate clean.

  Within the boundaries of the “no shop talk” rule, conversation with Daniel felt easy and relaxed. But conversation was the only thing that felt that way. She stole glances at the other women in the restaurant and marveled at their chic apparel. Everyone must be discreetly pointing at her and wondering what homeless shelter Daniel had rescued her from.

  “The staff all seem to know you,” she commented as they waited for dessert. “How often do you come here?”

  “Not all that frequently.” He winked at her. “I just tip well.”

  “I see,” she said with a laugh.

  Her gaze swept the room again. She’d always known he wasn’t poor, but after seeing his choice of vehicle, restaurant, and custom-tailored suit, she began to wonder how well-off he really was. She’d never considered herself destitute, despite her shabby wardrobe, but a chasm the size of Texas divided their two worlds.

  “Hello?”

  Jessie realized Daniel had been talking to her. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

  He chuckled. “I asked how long you’d had Molly. Y
our cat?”

  “Oh. Since she was a kitten. Her mother had been hit on the road and someone brought the litter to Doc. He found homes for all but Molly. I kept her and took her with me to Columbus when I went to college.” The memory of the tiny puff of fur was sweet, but Daniel’s question also stirred one of her own.

  He must’ve noticed the change in her expression. “What’s wrong?”

  She rubbed the ache between her eyes. “It’s Greg. I found out today that he and my receptionist from my veterinary hospital are living together.”

  Daniel froze, his coffee cup midway to his lips. Slowly, he returned it to its saucer. “Oh.”

  “And that’s not the best part. They told me they want my house. And Molly.”

  He stared at her. “You can’t be serious.”

  A picture of Jessie’s future life flashed across the movie screen of her mind. Sleeping on a cot in the hospital’s office. No. That was too close to the house Greg and Vanessa planned to share. The location changed to a generic apartment, a generic bed, and no Molly, no Peanut, no husband. No stability. She’d lived that life once, sharing furnished apartments and motel rooms with her footloose parents and younger brother. Never having anything to hold onto. Nothing to anchor her.

  She’d be damned if she’d go back to that.

  Something brushed the back of her hand. She flinched before realizing it was Daniel. He pulled back. “I’m sorry.”

  She wasn’t sure if he was expressing sympathy for her marital situation or apologizing for touching her. Either way, it didn’t matter. She shook her head. “That’s okay.” She met his troubled eyes and forced a smile. “It’s not been a good day.” As the understatement escaped her lips, the rush of tears took her by surprise. “I’m sorry,” she said, choking. The chair almost tipped over in her haste to rise. Catching it, she spun and bolted to the restroom.

  It was empty, much to her relief. She barely noticed the white marble and brass décor, the crystal light fixtures, and the gleaming exotic hardwood stalls. Instead, her focus was on deep breathing. She would not cry. Not here. Not with Daniel waiting at their table, wondering if she’d lost her senses. And definitely not because of one more insult laid upon her by Greg Cameron.

  And Vanessa? Photographic memory for names and phone numbers or not, Jessie should have let Meryl fire her like she’d wanted to.

  The thought of siccing Meryl on Vanessa brightened Jessie’s mood. The thought of doing the firing herself brightened it more. If Vanessa believed for one minute she was going to walk to work at Jessie’s vet hospital from Jessie’s house, she was sorely mistaken.

  Braced by the resolve to throw as big a monkey wrench into Greg and Vanessa’s plans as possible, Jessie decided to enjoy the rest of her evening with Daniel even if it killed her.

  She snatched several tissues from an abalone box on the marble counter and risked a look in the mirror. Not as bad as she’d feared. She pressed the tissues to the corners of her eyes then to her nose.

  The door swung open. An elegant woman in a cream dress that perfectly matched the color of her hair entered. She cast a curious glance at Jessie before averting her eyes and going about her business.

  Jessie took a deep breath and tossed the tissues. She charged through the door.

  And slammed into Daniel.

  He caught her shoulders to steady her. “I paid the check.” He held out her purse, which she’d left hanging on the back of her chair. “Let’s go home.”

  JESSIE RESTED HER FOREHEAD against the cool glass of the passenger side window and watched as the lights of houses and businesses sliced bright streaks through the darkness on the quiet drive home. She didn’t dare risk a glance at Daniel’s solemn profile, afraid to catch a glimpse of the disappointment she knew would be there.

  Daniel made the left turn into her lane and gunned the Corvette up the hill and around to the back of the house. The hospital was dark and the parking area empty.

  He cut the ignition. Steeling herself, she turned toward him.

  His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Here we are.”

  She forced a smile back at him.

  He opened his door. Not waiting for him to come around to her side, she climbed out and met him at the front of the car. He slipped an arm around her waist. If she hadn’t let Greg ruin the evening, she imagined she’d have enjoyed the closeness as he walked with her down the path to the back door.

  “I had a good time tonight.” She hoped she sounded more convincing than she felt.

  “Did you?” His voice was edged with sadness.

  “Yeah, I did. Thank you.”

  He placed a hand high on the doorframe, leaned into it, and studied her face. “I hope so. I thought you deserved a nice evening. I’m not sure I showed you one.”

  “It was great. I’m just...not accustomed to places like that.” She stared at her toes peeping out of her old shoes.

  He leaned closer to her. “That’s a shame. You belong in places like that. They suit you.”

  Warmth tingled her cheeks and told her she must be glowing in the dark.

  Daniel’s face moved closer, and she lifted hers. His lips caressed the corner of her mouth as soft as a whisper. “Good night.” He turned and headed back to the Corvette.

  She watched his back as he went, the broad shoulders and the narrow hips in the exquisite black suit. He disappeared into the car’s interior, and the sound of the revving engine floated down to her.

  Jessie fumbled in her purse for her keys. Damn it. Dinner at Lorenzo’s with just about the nicest, most attractive guy she’d ever met and she’d blown it.

  Her fingers touched metal, but it was her nail file. Then she found the jumble of keys and pulled them out, locating the one for the house. As she brought it up to the lock, the door drifted open.

  Thirteen

  Had Jessie left the door open? No. She remembered checking to make sure it’d caught. She remembered locking it. She closed her fingers around the doorknob. It turned easily in her hand. The clammy sweat from the night’s humidity turned cold.

  She wheeled in time to see the Corvette’s taillights disappear at the end of her lane. Daniel wasn’t coming to her rescue.

  She dug in her purse for her phone but found nothing. With a groan, she realized she’d been so distraught when they left the restaurant, she’d neglected to check her phone and subsequently never reclaimed it from the glovebox.

  She muttered a few choice words, turned back toward the house, and stepped inside.

  Jessie didn’t think something was wrong. She knew it. The air conditioner rumbled, but the air inside the house felt as sultry as outside. A sensible person would get out. Call the police.

  But the cats. She couldn’t abandon Molly and the kitten.

  Jessie flicked on the kitchen light and turned the corner. The illumination cut a swatch into the dining room, falling across the pet carrier, its door wide open, the interior empty. What the hell? She reached around the doorframe to hit the next switch.

  The antique brass chandelier lit the dining room where the sideboard and buffet doors and drawers hung open, their contents strewn across the floor. Tablecloths, silverware, packages of paper plates and napkins had been scattered. Her stoneware plates and bowls smashed.

  She spotted her cordless landline phone resting on the fireplace mantel and crossed to it. But when she punched 911 and hit send, only dead air hissed in her ear. She swore and winged it onto her upholstered reading chair.

  If she had any sense, she’d run. Jog up the hill to the hospital and call for help from there.

  Her gaze returned to the empty pet carrier, followed the light that feathered into the living room, and stuck on the reason the house felt so oppressive. The front window had been shattered. A small cedar table from the front porch lay in the center of the room among the shards of glass and wood.

  Molly.

  Where was the kitten? Where was Molly? Had the intruder harmed her cats? The idea was more hideous than Jes
sie could handle. No way could she leave without finding them.

  “Molly,” she cried out and immediately chastised herself. The old cat was deaf. But Jessie didn’t know what else to do. “Molly!” she called again.

  Except for the sound of the forced air battling to cool the house, only silence responded.

  The know-how she’d gained from being married to a cop went out the window with the cool air. Unsteady in her high heels, she half ran, half stumbled into the living room and slammed on the light switch with no concern for fingerprints.

  The entertainment center, disguised as an armoire, was open. The TV had been toppled onto the imitation Oriental carpet, its screen shattered. The DVD player and stereo system also lay in fragments. The shelf containing her DVDs and CDs had been stripped bare.

  The lace curtains framing the broken window fluttered in the night breeze. Had Molly escaped? She hadn’t been outdoors in years. A coyote or other wild animal could grab her. At the very least, the poor old dear would be terrified.

  “Molly!”

  Jessie teetered through the house, from room to room, flipping on lights as she went. She had yet to renovate the remainder of the empty downstairs rooms, leaving nothing to trash and nowhere for a cat to hide. She started up the steps. Her heart pounded harder than if she were running a marathon.

  Halfway to the top, the acrid smell of smoke touched her nostrils. She took the rest of the stairs two at a time, high heels and all. The stench grew more pungent, but no gray haze hung in the air. She tripped into her home office and slapped the switch with her hand. Light flooded the room.

  Her home laptop was missing from her desk. Her printer and router lay shattered on the floor. She let out a soft wail. A plume of smoke rose up the chimney from the fireplace where the blackened remains of a stack of files smoldered. She closed the distance between the door and the remnants of the fire in three long strides and yanked out the folders, beating the still-smoking embers with the palm of her hand. She sifted through the papers—Doc’s files that she had been entering into her computer. Some of the records appeared salvageable. Most were little more than char.