by Tara Meyers
“Bernie—Doctor Chambers—had been having a rough go of it. The week before, I’d stopped him from giving the wrong medication to one of my cows, and that was what gave Sean the idea in the first place. He confided in me that he’d recently diagnosed the doctor with early dementia.”
Ember gasped at that, and Sean gave her a sharp look. “So much for doctor-patient confidentiality, huh?” she asked, not expecting an answer.
“Yeah, it was wrong,” Morton agreed. “But it was the key to making the whole dosage scheme believable. Black Shadow already had the festering wound, so the scenario was plausible. I didn’t see any other way out.”
“So, you framed a man that was supposed to be your friend?” Sheriff Walker barked, his anger clearly visible. “Made him believe that he killed your horse, and ended his career!”
Hanging his head in disgrace, Morton spoke barely above a whisper. “It would have all been okay after that, except that Sean got greedy. We’d made an agreement that we wouldn’t sue Doc Bernie. The insurance would cover the outstanding stud fees and would pay out the life insurance. I’d “donate” half of it to Sean’s medical center as a cover, and that would be it. But then he came to me one afternoon and said he’d changed his mind. He wanted to sue.”
Looking up, Morton pointed again at Sean. “You just had to have more, didn’t you? Tom overheard us arguing,” he explained, turning back to the sheriff. “I didn’t know he was in one of the stalls. Only way I could get him to promise not to tell anyone was to hire him on full-time at more than double what he would normally make. Sean backed off from suing, and I thought that was the end of it.”
“You can’t prove any of this,” Sean said evenly. His face was a mask of barely-contained fury, his eyes dilated and dark.
“I still have the papers,” Ember revealed.
When Sean slowly turned toward her, she tried not to flinch.
“I’m guessing that was you in my clinic the other night? Well, the papers weren’t there, Sean. I still have them.”
“It doesn’t matter,” he said through clenched teeth. “My name is nowhere on them, and aside from the word of this admitted fraud,” he added, gesturing toward Morton, “there’s no way to prove otherwise.”
Ember couldn’t believe his audacity. The man really believed he was untouchable. Then, it dawned on her. This was all about his job in the city. About getting out of Sanctuary. Her own anger growing now as she understood he was the one behind everything that was happening to her, she leaned toward him against the desk.
“You’re right, Sean. It doesn’t matter.”
He blinked at her, not understanding.
“Your violation of the state privacy law alone is enough to get you fired from your precious dream job. In fact, just the investigation my complaint is going to cause will probably be enough.”
The truth to her statement couldn’t be denied. As Sean realized this, his whole demeanor changed, and Ember saw a hint of madness cross his features.
“You have the knowledge and access to morphine,” Ember continued, her mind racing as the undeniable truth began to surface. “And Tom was already draining Ellsworth. So, tell us, how much did he get from you?”
“Oh my gosh, Sean, what did you do?” Sandy breathed. Standing, she took a step back, away from her ex-husband.
“You almost got away with it,” Walker said, moving deeper into the room, between Sean and the Ellsworths. “You thought you had everything covered, but you didn’t count on Ember being so … thorough.”
“It was an accident!” Sean yelled, his façade finally breaking. “It wasn’t supposed to happen! I didn’t want it to happen!” Stumbling backwards, he put his hands out and slid along the wall, retreating away from them.
“You killed him!” Morton shouted, springing to his feet. His voice was thick with emotion. “Why, Sean?”
“The first time Tom came to me was in April,” Sean gushed, looking pleadingly at Morton. His eyes were wide and wild. “He demanded fifty thousand dollars, or else he’d expose us and destroy my career.”
Laughing hysterically, Sean appeared to be a different man. “The fool had no idea what he was doing. I didn’t have that kind of money! I convinced him that all I had was twenty-five thousand. He finally agreed. I made it clear that it was the one and only time he’d get anything from me. That he’d find himself in jail, or worse, if he tried again.”
Ember listened with rapt attention, her breath caught in her throat. Even with the sheriff partly blocking them, she could still feel the insanity radiating from Sean. She noticed Walker’s right hand was hovering over his firearm, his left on top of the cuffs tucked into the back of the gun belt sitting on his hips.
“That Thursday night, he showed up here as I was getting ready to leave,” Sean continued, his focus darting back and forth between Morton and Walker. “He tried to get another ten thousand from me. I told him no. And I meant it. I didn’t think he’d follow through with his threats. He had the job at the stables, and things seemed to be going well for him. And I honestly didn’t have that kind of extra money lying around. But that idiot had managed to spend more than he had in less than three months! He needed the cash for some sort of ridiculous down payment on a garage. A garage! He was threatening to ruin everything I’d worked for … over a place to park his freaking car!”
Sean’s chest was heaving. Wiping at his face, he then paused for a moment and pushed two fingers against his forehead. “We fought. Tom took the first swing. At some point, we ended up in the trauma room. He was a big man and quickly got the upper hand on me. He’d thrown me against the tool tray.” He took on a distant gaze, replaying the scene in his mind. “It made a huge clattering noise, and I was actually hoping at that point that someone would hear it and come help me. But then … I had the scalpel in my hand. I don’t remember how it got there. And the next thing I knew, I was kneeling over Tom, and—” pausing, Sean turned his attention to Ember, as if what she thought would somehow matter. “I tried to save him. I performed CPR for … I don’t know how long. But it didn’t work. Nothing worked. He was dead. He was dead, and I killed him.”
Sheriff Walker took a step toward him then, but Sean sprang back to his full height at the movement and pushed his hands out in front of him.
“Don’t you see?” he begged the man that had been his friend. “It was the only way, Ben. I had to cover it up. It can still work,” he insisted, looking at each of them in turn. “It’s what’s best for everyone. Morton and Sandy keep the stables, I keep my license, Vanessa gets Tom’s life insurance. It was an accident,” he emphasized again.
“You put a knife into a man’s back.” Ember’s voice was unyielding. “You killed him over ten thousand dollars, Sean. You can tell yourself whatever you need to, but that’s called murder, not an accident.”
The tension in the room grew as Sean ignored Ember and stared at Walker, waiting to see what he would do. When his hand began to close around the grip of his pistol, Sean’s eyes flicked toward the movement before meeting his friend’s gaze again. Tilting his head slightly to the side, the two froze for a heartbeat.
Sean sprang into motion, throwing the door behind him open and lunging through it before Walker could draw his weapon.
“Going somewhere, doc?”
Nathan’s voice was a welcome sound to Ember, and she watched with relief as he grabbed Sean around the chest and wrestled the smaller man to the floor.
TWENTY SEVEN
A storm had passed through earlier in the day, leaving in its wake the smell that can only be created by a good cleansing rain.
Ember sat on her front porch, bare feet propped up on the railing. Bands of filtered sunshine cast low in the sky danced across Crystal Lake, warming the late-summer afternoon. As she watched the sparkling water, she reflected on the parallels of the town also having its secrets washed away. Well, at least some of them.
“So, did you ever suspect me?” Mel asked from her seat beside her. “Bec
ause, if I were you, I would have totally suspected me. I’ve been told before that I have shifty eyes.”
Laughing, Ember turned to her friend. “No, Mel. After a brief moment of uncertainty, my trust in you and your shifty eyes was unwavering.”
“I don’t know,” Becky added from Ember’s other side. “After the whole dog fiasco, I wasn’t so sure.”
Mel threw a sugar cookie at the older woman half-heartedly and then snorted when Becky caught it in her mouth midair. Ember relished the easy time they were able to spend together and knew better than to take any of it for granted.
Reaching for a new French press positioned on the small glass table between them, Ember topped off her cup. Mel had been right. She wasn’t able to go back to drip coffee and was forever destined to be a true coffee snob.
Three days had passed since the parade and Sean’s arrest. There were still some uncertainties, but the town had begun the process of putting the incident behind them.
“Do you really believe Sandy?” Mel asked in a more serious tone.
“It might seem weird, but yes,” Ember answered. “You didn’t see her face when I confronted her in her father’s den and she first made the connection. Only, at the time, I didn’t realize it. Maybe she’d suspected something all along but was unwilling to acknowledge her father would intentionally kill a horse for the money, but I don’t think Morton ever told her. I believe he hid it from her.”
“Still,” Becky argued, “are you sure you want to work for her?”
Ember considered her aunt’s words carefully. The box Morton had given her was still sitting on the kitchen table. “I consider it to be us working together rather than for her,” Ember explained. “Besides, once the insurance company is done with them, there may not be much to work for. Sandy said she doesn’t think her dad will do any jail time, but she’s going to have to sell off a huge portion of the herd to avoid bankruptcy. It’s funny,” she continued, turning to look at Becky. “Sandy really isn’t all that bad.”
“I’ll trust your judgment,” Becky said, giving her a warm smile. “You’ve always been good at reading people.”
“Apparently everyone but good-looking guys with really, really blue eyes,” Mel poked.
Ember wanted to smile, but there was too much truth behind the comment. It was something that had been bothering her ever since she discovered he was the killer.
“You know, looking back, I think I always guessed there was something not quite right with him,” she said, lost in thought. “But I played right into his ploy of mistrusting the easier suspects.” She knew the attraction between them was real, but he used it to try and manipulate her.
“Did he really think he could make you or anyone else believe that Morton or Sandy killed Tom?” Mel asked.
Shrugging, Ember wondered the same thing. “Maybe. But I think it’s more likely that he was trying to make me think they were just protecting the stables from the insurance fraud claim and was hoping I’d get scared and leave.”
“He obviously doesn’t know you very well,” Becky replied. “And it’s a good thing, too, because I don’t think that lazy sheriff would have pursued things the way he did if you didn’t keep pushing him! Sean was extremely close to getting away with it.”
“Don’t be too hard on Walker,” Ember told her aunt. “He came through.”
“Yeah, well, Mayor Gomez is treating you like the town hero!” Mel quipped. “Our website has two thousand likes, Ember. Two … thousand! You’re a freaking celebrity!” she added, punching her lightly on her good arm.
Her other arm was in a sling. Nothing was broken, but it was badly bruised and had six stitches in it. She was determined to be using it normally by the end of the week. In spite of everything that happened, they stuck with their schedule and opened the clinic on Monday, the day before. She needed the full use of both arms in order to be as productive as she’d like.
Mel had ridden out with Becky that afternoon after the clinic closed, to help with a delivery, and Ember was happy when they agreed to stay and chat. A loud whinny rose from the fields beside the house, and Ember smiled in response. Leaning forward, she could see Daenerys and Butterscotch playing together in the arena. Earlier, Mel helped her lay fresh hay in the stables, where Butterscotch would now live.
It turned out that their behavior at the parade wasn’t random. The two animals were instant best friends, and Becky’s husband, Paul, was thrilled with the suggestion that Ember adopt the horse.
“What about Nathan?” Mel asked, interrupting her thoughts. “Heard anything from your knight in shining armor?”
“Like I said before, there still wasn’t any armor involved,” Ember pointed out, “and I’m pretty sure he was doing his job, versus trying to impress me.”
“Oh, come on!” Mel insisted. “He was the first person to stop in yesterday for our grand opening.”
“His dog needed its shots.”
“I don’t even believe it was his dog.”
Laughing, Ember didn’t try to deny it. “He did offer to take us hiking next weekend.”
“Us?” Mel countered, her smile fading.
“Yup. It’s time you experienced the great outdoors. I won’t take no for an answer.”
While Becky and Mel argued over the pros and cons of hiking the wilds, Ember leaned back in the seat and took it all in: the house, the lake, the laughter.
A dark blur near her arm caught her attention, and Peaches leapt into her lap. While sometimes affectionate, it was the first time he’d settled across her legs, a purr rumbling deep in his throat. As Butterscotch whinnied again in response to Daenerys’s bark, a feeling Ember had been missing since she left Sanctuary swelled in her chest and made her breath catch.
The sun reached her face, and she closed her eyes, soaking in the warmth and breathing in the soft lilac scent from the fresh-cut stems on the table. A single tear trailed down her cheek and landed in the fur of her mother’s cat.
I’m home.
THE END
About the Author
Tara Meyers resides in the beautiful state of Washington. When she isn’t writing, she’s out hiking in the rugged Cascade Mountains, or enjoying life with her two amazing kids and several dogs! If you were entertained by this story, you might also like the novels she’s written under the pen name of Tara Ellis.
Amazon author page for Tara Meyers
Amazon author page for Tara Ellis
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