The guilt of Sunday night struck Jessie once again. It should have been me. “I came as soon as I finished up with another emergency.” She wondered if she sounded as guilty as she felt.
Sherry’s voice dropped to a growl. “But it was too late then, wasn’t it?”
This wasn’t going as planned. Jessie battled to regain her composure. “What do you know about Clown?”
Sherry gave a reserved shrug. “What about him?”
“Doc went into the stall alone. If you worked with him for any length of time, you know how careful he was. He never took unnecessary chances.”
Sherry’s expression softened. “He wouldn’t have had any qualms about Clown. We treated him all the time. Oh, he acted like a bad ass, but it was all for show.”
Just as Zelda had claimed. “It wasn’t an act on Sunday night. Do you have any idea what happened?”
Sherry’s face turned stony again. “No.”
Jessie spotted something in her eyes. Sherry knew more than she was admitting. Jessie waited, holding Sherry’s gaze. But whatever Jessie thought she’d seen had vanished.
A distant voice called, “Through the middle.” A moment later Jessie heard footsteps muffled by the sandy surface of the shedrow. She and Sherry pressed closer to the wall to let the groom and horse pass.
Discouraged, Jessie asked one last question. “Don’t suppose you know who placed the call to Doc, do you?”
“Not a clue.”
“Thanks.” Jessie made no attempt to hide her sarcasm. “You’ve been very helpful.”
Sherry gave her a snide smile. “Anytime.”
Jessie had been bested, and she knew it. Looking over Sherry’s shoulder, Jessie watched the groom and his charge striding away from them. She moved to follow, but Sherry blocked her.
“You can go out that way.” She nodded toward the gap where Jessie had entered.
Jessie eyed her. Why was Sherry trying to keep her from taking an innocent stroll down the shedrow? “I’ve never been through Emerick’s barn before.” Jessie gave what she hoped looked like an earnest shrug. “I’d like to see what kind of horses he’s got.”
A flush of red tinged Sherry’s face. “You have no business in this barn unless Neil calls for you. And he hasn’t.”
“What’s the problem? I’m not going to bill Emerick for it.” Jessie sidestepped again.
Sherry moved with her. “Neil doesn’t like people snooping around. Some of our stuff has been coming up missing.”
“You think I’m here to steal something?”
Sherry’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Maybe.”
“Trust me. Neil Emerick has nothing I want.”
“Why should I trust you? Besides, Neil’s given orders. No one comes in his barn without his say-so.”
Jessie gazed past Sherry, down the shedrow. The groom and his charge had circled to the other side and were out of sight. Emerick was nowhere to be seen. No horses looked out of the next six or seven stalls. Farther down, a lone gray head hung over the stall webbing. Jessie looked behind her. The black with the star and even the dark chestnut that’d been snoozing were watching the two women. But in the other direction, nothing until the gray. Odd. Were all those stalls empty? Empty stalls meant no income. More than likely, the horses were tied up in the back corners so they couldn’t look out. But why?
“Okay,” Jessie said, slowly. “I’ll go.”
Jessie left the way she’d come. As she approached her truck, she pondered a whole new set of questions. What exactly was going on in Neil Emerick’s barn? What didn’t they want her to see?
Five
The sight of Greg’s Pennsylvania State Police Interceptor waiting in front of the clinic dampened Jessie’s mood more thoroughly than the drenching rain.
The impending divorce weighed heavy on her soul. She and Greg had been college sweethearts. He was the basketball star. She was the studious introvert. He could have had any girl he wanted, with his dark hair, indigo eyes, and heart-melting smile. The fact that he’d pursued her had boggled her mind. They’d married. He’d used his criminal justice degree to get a job with the PSP. She’d opened the Cameron Veterinary Hospital on the farm they’d bought together. Life was bliss. Happily ever after.
Until four months ago when he announced he was moving out. No warning. At least none that she’d seen.
Or wanted to see.
Since then, Jessie had been struggling through the stages of grief, starting with denial. The night she ran into Greg and a stunning redhead holding hands at a restaurant slapped her out of stage one.
Anger followed. Meryl helped her craft a pair of wild schemes as revenge, but good sense prevailed, and the plans were aborted.
After weeks spent wrapped in a protective blanket of guilt and depression, Jessie truly believed she’d reached the final stage—acceptance.
And then Greg stepped out of the Interceptor in front of the clinic, and the grief hit her all over again.
She climbed down from the Chevy’s cab slow enough to let her head regain control over her heart. Remembering the redhead always did the trick. “What are you doing here?”
“The Medical Examiner released his report on Doc’s death,” Greg said stiffly. “I thought you’d like to hear it.”
He thought right. “Let’s get out of the rain.” Jessie put her shoulder to the heavy door. Greg reached over her and, with one hand, easily rolled the thing open. “Show off,” she muttered, torn between annoyance and gratitude.
The rain thrummed against the tin roof. She raised her voice to be heard over it. “What’s the verdict?”
Greg removed his trooper hat and held it somberly in front of him. “No big surprises. Cause of death was blood loss. He suffered massive internal injuries to several major organs.”
Doc’s mangled body flashed across her memory. Closing her eyes only intensified the image, so she focused on the stainless-steel counter behind Greg. The sink. The glass canister filled with swabs. Anything to blot out that picture.
“The tox screen came back
