Death by Equine

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Death by Equine Page 28

by Annette Dashofy


  Milt must have been having similar concerns about the electrical storm. He caught her elbow and steered her under the cover of a shedrow. “How on earth do you know all this?”

  Jessie thought about the envelope again. “I called Vanessa at my house and had her go through Doc’s records and a note fell out. You know how he documented every detail? Well, he’d written it all out. I’m pretty sure that’s why Doc and Sherry fought and why he decided against leaving his practice to her. The last part of the note stated he’d told Emerick once Doc got back from his vacation he planned to go public with everything. The entire scam. Even if it meant Doc lost his own license.” A rush of hot tears burned Jessie’s eyes. Maybe there really was a part of the man she thought she’d known left in Doc’s soul.

  Milt leaned against the block wall of the barn, his face in shadows. “Neil had no choice but to do whatever it took to keep Doc from blowing the whistle.”

  “And Doc must’ve known if anything happened to him, I would be the one to find his note condemning his killer.”

  Milt pushed away from the wall and tipped his head to look out from under the shedrow roof at the sky. “Maybe if we make a run for it, we can beat this storm. I reckon you’re eager to turn this over to that ex-husband of yours.”

  “And his trusty sidekick, Trooper Popovich, who still thinks I’m responsible for Sherry’s death. Looks like Emerick killed her to shut her up too.”

  They headed toward the maintenance buildings. When they were almost to the gate, Milt reached over and tapped the envelope. “What’s this?”

  She stopped and removed it from under her arm. The bad news was going to come out eventually. She might as well be the one to break it to him. “It’s Blue’s x-rays.”

  Milt turned to face her. “Mexicali Blue?”

  She nodded. “I’m afraid blood tests weren’t the only things Doc used a ringer for.”

  Any trace of a smile had vanished from Milt’s face. “What do you mean?”

  “The x-rays from your pre-purchase exam show a different bone structure than the ones I made last weekend.” She sighed. “I’m afraid Doc knew you were buying a lame horse. I’m sure it was another case of him and Emerick being in cahoots.”

  Milt took the envelope from her, pinching it between his thumb and finger as if it were toxic. “It’s all here, is it?”

  “I’m afraid so.” She strode the last few steps to the gate. “I’ve been completely wrong about Daniel too. Turns out he had nothing to do with any of it.”

  “No, he didn’t.”

  Jessie grabbed the pipe and gave it a tug. But it held firm with a clank. She tried again with the same result. The padlock she’d left hanging on the wire was now clipped through the latch and locked. Still clutching the gate, she felt the world inside her head grow quiet. Even the thunder sounded distant, as though she was hearing it through an echo chamber. Milt’s words—especially the raspy quality of his voice—stuck in her mind. “What did you say?”

  “Daniel didn’t have anything to do with it.”

  She released the gate. Turned slowly to face the man she thought was a friend.

  Milt’s face was a study in agony. “Neither did Neil Emerick. It’ll be nice to pin it all on him, though. The man’s a bastard.”

  The stillness inside Jessie’s head exploded. Pieces to the puzzle clicked into place. “The pre-purchase exam. You told me you didn’t have one done. But you did.” She pointed to the envelope now in his hands. “It was in Doc’s records. I mentioned to Sherry that there hadn’t been a vet check on Blue. She knew better. That’s when she figured it out.”

  “Dang it, Jessie. If only you’d left it alone. That little gal never would’ve gotten wise on her own.”

  A spatter of rain hit Jessie’s back, but she couldn’t blame her chill on it. “You killed Sherry. With my nippers, so it would look like I did it.”

  He stuffed the envelope inside his jacket. “I hated to do it. But you made it easy. Everyone knew about the two of you feuding. With you behind bars, you’d have to quit your damned digging. It was the only way I could figure to make you stop. Other than...”

  Jessie’s breath came slow. “Other than killing me too?”

  He looked down at his boots and nodded.

  She studied him and tried to stay calm. “Now what?”

  “You haven’t left me much choice.”

  She took a quick look around, memorizing the details of her surroundings—details she missed in her everyday dealings in this area. Details she needed if she were to stay alive.

  Behind her, the locked gate eliminated the option to escape. The maintenance buildings on either side of her created a wide corridor to the backside. Her best bet was the barns. There were plenty of empty stalls to hide in, thanks to the exodus. Except Milt stood in the way. Her only option, and it wasn’t a good one, was surprise.

  Jessie drew a breath, steeling her nerves, and charged straight at him with a yell that was half growl, half war cry. Startled, Milt raised his arms in front of him like a linebacker and lunged at her.

  But she dodged to her left and threw her right shoulder into his.

  The move staggered him. He didn’t go down, but she slipped his grasp and sprinted toward the barns.

  Just as the clouds opened.

  She hoped Milt’s age and the bad back he complained about would slow him down but wasn’t putting money on it. She raced past the first stable she came to and cut between barns. The downpour soaked through the hoodie. The discomfort didn’t bother her as much as the roar of the rain on the pavement and the roofs deafened her to his footsteps. She didn’t dare look back. Not yet.

  Her lungs burned. She skimmed through and around stables, avoiding any predictable routes. Gasping for breath, she took shelter under the covered gap between barns and collapsed against the wall.

  She swiped a wet arm across her face in a failed attempt to brush the water from her eyes. Her ball cap had soaked through before she’d made the turn at the first barn.

  Lightning gave her a glimpse inside the shedrow. Nothing moved. No sinister figures lurked. With the stable dark once again, she hugged the wall, feeling her way from stall to stall. An avalanche of thunder rolled overhead. The rumble faded in the distance. Did she hear footsteps? She froze. Listened. But there was nothing.

  Another flash revealed an open hay shed, hay stacked almost to the ceiling, directly in front of her.

  Jessie dived into the shed, hoping the roar of the rain and thunder drowned out the clunk of her boots on the wooden floor. Her shin hit something. An open bale. She stumbled. Fell into the pile. Scrambling, she reached up and scaled the stack like one of those climbing walls. A bale pulled free, and she almost tumbled to the ground. She caught herself. Paused. Drew a deep breath. And then scurried to the top. Ignoring the chafing hay biting through her sleeves, she squeezed into the space between the top row and the roof and wriggled as far inside as she could.

  The rain softened from a deafening roar to a soft hiss against the tin. Jessie strained to hear movement outside, but the only sound was the rasping of her own breath. Chaff stuck to her wet face and worked into her clothes.

  Where was Milt?

  She jammed her hand into her jeans’ pocket and pulled out her phone. Her first instinct was to call Greg.

  Except she had his phone.

  She punched in another number.

  Vanessa sounded frightened when she picked up. “Greg?”

  “No, it’s me. Jessie.” Something beeped in her ear.

  “Again?” Now she sounded miffed.

  “I’m in a real bind. I need you to track Greg down.”

  “Why? What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t have time to go into it all right now—” Something out in the shedrow made a thud. Jessie gasped.

  “Are you there?”

  “Yes,” Jessie whispered. She heard that beep again. “Hold on a minute.”

  She clamped the phone against her chest and listen
ed. Footsteps. Definitely footsteps. Milt was right outside the hay shed. She battled a spark of hysteria. Stay calm. The sound stopped. She pictured him peering into the shed. Noticing the mess of broken bales she’d made in her frantic attempt to burrow in.

  She heard the footsteps again, moving away this time, fading into the soft rush of light rain on the roof.

  Jessie blew out a breath and brought the phone back to her ear. It beeped again. What was that? “Vanessa?”

  “I’m here. What’s going on?”

  “Find Greg. Tell him it’s Milt. Milt killed Doc and Sherry, and now he’s trying to kill me.”

  “Oh, my.” Vanessa’s little-girl voice shot up an octave.

  “Tell him I’m at Riverview and I need him now.” No response. “Hello? Hello?” Jessie gaped down at the dark screen and dead phone. That’s why it had been beeping.

  How much had Vanessa heard before the phone cut out? Did she hear the part about Jessie being at the track? Did she hear the part about telling Greg she needed him? And if she had, Jessie wasn’t Vanessa’s favorite person these days. Would she even bother to make the effort?

  Taking a long breath, Jessie listened again, hearing nothing.

  She couldn’t depend on Greg to come to her rescue. She needed to get out of this on her own. It probably wouldn’t be long before Milt came back.

  She crawled to the front of the haystack. Looked out and saw nothing. She swung one leg over the edge, then the other, and dropped to the floor, landing with a soft thud. At the front of the shed, she waited for another flash of lightning. It came and disclosed an empty shedrow. She stepped from her safe haven, jogged to the end of the barn, and stopped before turning the corner.

  She needed a better plan than just darting from shedrow to shedrow. The gates were all locked, and she doubted she could scale the chain fence. Maybe she could get back to the clinic and lock herself in the office. But if Milt couldn’t find her in the barns, he would likely head there and lay in wait for her. With a little luck, she could sneak past the clinic. Make a run for the stable gate. Scream like bloody hell and hope the guard reached her before Milt did.

  She peeked around the corner to see if anyone was there. Nothing. Relieved, she gathered her courage.

  Something scraped behind her. She wheeled.

  The back of a shovel.

  Searing pain.

  And everything went black.

  Twenty-Eight

  A low moan filtered into Jessie’s consciousness. It took a few seconds to realize the sound came from her own throat. Her face throbbed. Her sinus headache must be back. When she raised a hand to her left cheek, pain sliced through her head.

  She opened her eyes. Blinked. Tried to figure out where she was. Rafters and a bare light bulb. Sounds crept through the haze. Rustling. Then a stomp followed by a snort. The smell of manure and damp straw.

  “Wake up, darlin’.”

  Jessie turned her head. Bad idea. The movement sent a glitter of razor-sharp stars dancing across her eyes. She squeezed them shut and held her breath until the pain subsided. When she opened them again, the source of the familiar drawl swam into view.

  Milt stood over her holding the halter of a big chestnut. Jessie struggled to prop herself up on one elbow. The man and horse began to spin around her. She collapsed back into the prickly bedding. “Ow.”

  “I’m really sorry I had to whack you like that, but I should’ve done it long ago. Might’ve knocked some sense into you.”

  She forced her eyes open and concentrated on clearing her vision. And her thoughts.

  The horse Milt was holding had his ears pinned back, and his eyes were ringed with white. A cold weight crushed the breath from her as she recognized the stallion. Clown. Milt’s other hand, encased in a Latex glove, hung at his side, closed in a fist. He noticed her looking and uncurled his fingers, revealing a syringe.

  “Ace?”

  Milt offered her a smile that appeared genuinely sad. “Damn it all to hell, Jessie. I hate that it’s come to this. You just wouldn’t leave it alone.”

  She swallowed a hard, dry lump in her throat. “You’re going to kill me the same way you killed Doc.”

  “It worked before. There’s nothing to keep it from working again.”

  “Two of us dying the same way? No one’s going to believe it’s an accident.”

  “Doesn’t matter. No one’s gonna suspect me. You’ve given me the perfect scapegoat.” Milt tipped his head back and chuckled. “Neil Emerick. That son of a bitch. I was never sure how much of the scheme to dump that worthless piece of horseflesh off on me was Neil’s idea and how much of it was Doc’s. This way they’ll both pay. I’m much obliged to you for finding all that evidence against him.”

  She had to ignore both the pain in her face and in her heart if she were going to survive this night. Keep him talking. “Can you explain something to me?”

  “What’s that, darlin’?”

  “You’ve been after me all along to take over Doc’s practice. Why? If you didn’t want me digging into his death, why not just encourage me to leave?”

  Milt rubbed his chin with the back of his gloved hand. “That was a mistake. You see, I honestly liked you.” The sad smile was back. “I thought you’d be a nice addition to this second-rate operation.” The smile turned to a snarl. “And I wouldn’t have to worry about you screwing my wife.”

  “You knew.”

  Clown tossed his head and almost broke free. Milt tightened his grip on the lead shank. “Whoa, son.” He looked at Jessie, but she could tell he was seeing something else. “I suspected. Then that weekend...the weekend Doc and Amelia were supposed to be leaving for Hawaii...I was away at a symposium out in Harrisburg. I decided to come home early and surprise my beloved wife. Only I was the one who got the surprise. They were so wrapped up with each other, they didn’t even realize I was there. Do you know what it’s like to walk into your own home and find your beautiful wife in bed with your best friend?”

  “Actually, I sort of do know.”

  Milt’s eyes snapped back to focus on her. “I guess you do, don’t you?”

  “Only with me, it was my husband holding hands with a total stranger in a diner.” The irony of exchanging tales of heartbreak with a man who literally held her life in his hands wasn’t lost on her. But she needed to give Greg time to get the message and come to her rescue.

  Milt had said he honestly liked her. If she could appeal to that side of him. Keep him from injecting the drug into Clown. She might be able to talk her way out of this.

  “And now,” Jessie continued. “Now, he’s sleeping with a little blonde twerp who worked for me.”

  “It sucks, don’t it?”

  “It does. At least I had the satisfaction of firing her.” Jessie forced a grin. It hurt like hell in more ways than one, but she hoped the pain didn’t show.

  “And I had the satisfaction of watching Doc die.” Milt’s voice could have frozen water buckets in July. He looked at the syringe.

  Her breath caught. Keep him talking. “Something else I don’t understand. Why did Doc fake the x-rays on Blue?”

  Milt lifted his head. Once more Jessie had the feeling he was looking back in time. “He knew I was strapped. Catherine and her ponies. It’s not a cheap hobby, you know.”

  Jessie nodded.

  “I was in debt up to my ears. Buying horses. Feed. Training bills. Money pouring out and none coming in. But it was the price of keeping Catherine happy.”

  Jessie thought maybe it was the price of keeping Catherine. Period.

  “My dear friend Doc finds this big ol’ boy. Mexicali Blue. Bloodlines out his ass. Now my wife thinks Doc is the best thing since sliced bread for finding her this horse. Except then the horse goes lame. But it ain’t Doc’s fault. Oh, no. He’s still her hero. And I’m left paying for it.” Milt looked down and kicked at a mound of manure. “I think that was Doc’s plan all along. Ruin me. Then he could ride in on his white steed and take my Cathe
rine away from such squalor.”

  The stall fell silent. Milt, the picture of a broken man, gazed into space.

  Clown broke the silence. He snorted and pawed the straw bedding dangerously close to Jessie’s legs. She drew her knees in. Startled, the stallion flung his head up, taking Milt with him.

  “Stop that.” Milt jerked the halter.

  “It seems like an odd way to kill someone.” Jessie kept her voice soft, not wanting to spook either the horse or Milt. “I mean, how could you count on Clown killing Doc?”

  Milt considered the question before answering. “To tell you the truth, I’d have been happy if all Doc got was busted up real good. But he was so damned distracted with his vacation plans that he let ol’ Clown kill him.”

  Doc’s vacation. “It could have been me.” Jessie shivered. “What if I’d have shown up instead of Doc? You had to know I was supposed to be filling in for him.”

  “That old cuss wouldn’t miss a call until Amelia had his ass in the seat of the airplane.” Milt’s face softened. “But if you had shown up, I was right there. I’d have been Sir Lancelot coming to your rescue. I never wanted to hurt you, darlin’.”

  “You watched him die.”

  “I did.”

  “Milt, you keep saying you don’t want to hurt me. Don’t do this.”

  The agony etching his face gave her hope. “You wouldn’t listen to me. I kept trying to get you to leave it alone. Just let it be an accident. Even your idiot husband kept telling you that.” Milt shook his head. “I wish to hell you’d have listened to us. Now I have no choice.”

  She opened her mouth to argue, but he held up a finger to shush her.

  “There’s no other way. You’d have to tell what you know. It’s just who you are.” He flipped the cap off the syringe with his thumb.

 

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