Zeph Undercover

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Zeph Undercover Page 5

by Jenny Andersen


  “The bleeding should stop in a few minutes. I’ll put some more salve on it when we get to Monty’s.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  At Monty’s ranch, she parked by the barn and rummaged in the back of the truck for a box that held animal medications. He hoped they were safe for humans. But her soft hand holding his, her cool fingers smoothing over the back of his hand, made the whole thing worthwhile.

  She capped the tube and put it away. “Okay. Time to go to work,” she said, and led the way into the barn.

  A black and white horse stood in the first stall.

  “You might want to stand out of the way. I’m going to bring him out in the light so I can look him over.”

  Horses. Why did it always have to be horses? He got out of the way while she tied the animal in the doorway. She peered at its eyes and ears and feet, into its mouth and more personal parts, then ran her hands over it.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Don’t know. Hmm. I wonder...” She pulled out her phone. “Monty? I’m not finding anything wrong with this guy. But I was wondering...he’s usually out in the pasture with that paint mare and I don’t see her here.”

  Zeph could hear Monty’s voice rumbling but couldn’t make out the words.

  “Well, I think that’s your answer. This guy’s missing his friend. He’s lonely.” She listened for a moment, then laughed. “That’s great. He’ll probably start eating as soon as she’s back. I’ll put him out in the pasture to wait for her return.” After she’d done that, she said, “Come on, I’ll show you the other horses.”

  Why? But he followed along. Fortunately there were only four. They all looked alike. Big. Smelly. Dangerous.

  “And this is Dancer,” Allie said, stopping at the last stall.

  “Ah…it’s big?” he ventured, taking a step back. While he tried to think of something more intelligent than “It’s a different color,” Allie looked into the stall. “Uh oh,” she said, and yanked the half-door open.

  “What?” Zeph said.

  “Help me,” she demanded, disappearing inside.

  Visions of delivering babies in taxis and emergency appendectomies on kitchen tables danced through his head. He could handle those, at least the delivering babies ones, but horses?

  “Now.”

  The urgency in her voice yanked him into action and he dashed into the stall, wary of the smelly piles that seemed to be unavoidable whenever horses were in the vicinity. But only clean straw met his anxious gaze.

  Allie tugged on the leather straps around the horse’s head, apparently trying to lead him outside. Zeph approached reluctantly, ready to help, but leaped away when the horse kicked at its belly. The hollow thunk it made had him flinching. The horse’s rear end sank toward the ground.

  “Don’t let him get down,” Allie panted. “Yell. Flap your coat at him. Hurry.”

  Her urgency infected him. He ripped off his jacket and flapped, yelling like a maniac and feeling like an idiot. The horse stopped sinking and let Allie haul him outside.

  She kept going, out of the barn and around the stable yard. He walked outside to join her. “What’s going on?”

  “Colic.”

  “What?”

  “He’s got colic.”

  Human babies got colic. He’d heard people in the office complaining about walking the floor all night. Big deal. Everyone was sleepless, but not worried, not like Allie with that life-or-death wrinkle in her forehead. “Like a baby?”

  Allie’s expression didn’t alter. “Like a baby. His stomach hurts,” she said. “But horses can’t throw up, so whatever’s wrong in there just stays put. It can be fairly minor, or lethal, or anywhere in between.”

  “You’re a vet. Is he…?”

  “Don’t know yet. And vets can’t always fix colic.” Her mouth set in a grim line, totally unlike its usual soft, tempting curve. “Go to my truck and get...” She reeled off a list of things. “Hurry.”

  He hurried. When he got back, she had him stir together a mess that looked like nothing a living creature would ever eat. “Yech.”

  “Bran, molasses, and oil. We hope it will grease the skids. So to speak.”

  Somehow she got the stuff into the horse and went back to walking it, looking marginally more hopeful.

  “Now what?” he asked.

  She put the horse back in its stall, leaving the door open with only an inadequate looking rope across the opening to keep it inside. “Now we wait. And watch.” She got a couple of folding chairs out of the barn and set them up way too close to the open door and the horse inside. She pulled her phone out of a pocket and called Monty to report.

  Zeph scooted his chair closer to Allie’s and took her hand. Her laser focus on the horse didn’t waver while she took it back, and there he was, running second best to a damned horse.

  Again. Just the way it had been all summer when they tried to meet at the horse shows which were the only reason Allie ever left this isolated whistle stop. Except for school, of course.

  Her voice broke into his unhappy thoughts. “Are those the only shoes you brought?”

  Of course not. Along with the dress shoes he never traveled without, he’d brought casual shoes for this trip: two pairs of loafers, running shoes… “No.”

  “Boots?”

  “No.”

  “You’d better get some. Those things will get ruined in no time.”

  ‘Those things’ had cost a small fortune. “Okay.” Her concern warmed him. Maybe she didn’t hate him. Maybe the icy shoulder business was an act.

  He leaned back in his chair and considered the possibility that he’d fallen into an alternate universe. That must be it, the only way he could explain that he, Zephram Granger, sitting in the middle of a stable on a chair that belonged in a dump, didn’t hate being here. In fact, actually enjoyed the moment.

  At least, he enjoyed it until the horse started biting and kicking at its stomach again, and Allie leaped up to start the walking all over again.

  He thought about what he’d like to do with Allie, about the excellent bed in his room, and sighed. No hope there, even if she were willing. Not with her father around.

  Eventually Allie tied the horse up and put her ear on its belly. Zeph half rose. Shit, what if it started that kicking thing again? Her head was right where its foot would get her. But she smiled and came to sit next to him. “What was that all about?” he asked, curious in spite of himself.

  “Something’s going on in there,” she said. “When we first got here, his belly was quiet.”

  That verged on too much information, an unusual feeling for a detective.

  When she got up and started walking it around again, he moved the chairs out of the way and walked beside her. “Why don’t I get us a couple of bottles of water from the truck?”

  Her attention flicked from the horse to him. “Great. Thanks.”

  “Be right back.” He got the drinks and picked his way across the stable yard to intercept her. His route brought him closer to the horse than he liked, and if he’d been thinking about anything except Allie, he’d surely have detoured. One minute she and the horse were walking away from him. In the next second, everything had turned into a cartoon panel. The horse stopped. Allie yelled something about not walking in back of horses.

  Before he could say, “What?” the odor he’d learned to identify as fresh manure hit him like a fist, and his shoes, his brand new, perfectly polished Berlutis, his brand new, expensive Berlutis, were covered in the horse poop that mounded around his ankles.

  ****

  Zeph stepped up onto the clinic porch. He looked at his new boots and sighed. After yesterday’s debacle, he’d given up and spent the morning buying footwear suitable for life in the slow, manure-laden lane.

  The phone rang inside. A minute later, Allie ran through the door and headed for her truck. “Stay here.” she flung over her shoulder. “Luke and Hannah said they’d stop by later, and I might not be back.”

&nb
sp; So two hours later, here he sat, on the front porch of Allie’s clinic with Luke and a bottle of beer while Hannah bought groceries and Allie did—whatever.

  “Where’s Allie?” Luke asked.

  “Emergency call.”

  “You’d know about those, I’d guess.”

  “Yeah.” Zeph looked at his beer as though it held answers. “But I get time off. She lives like this all the time. She said twenty-four seven, and I believe it.”

  “That’s pretty much the way it works.”

  “Whatever.” His mind couldn’t wrap itself around a lifestyle that included running out the door every time some horse decided to need attention. He considered the bottle he held. “I’m surprised. Who knew Allie kept Heineken on ice.”

  Luke’s teeth flashed in a wicked grin. “She keeps it for me. But I’m willing to share.” He put his booted feet on the porch rail. “Want to check out the barn?”

  “No, I don’t want to check out the barn. What’s the matter with you people? There are perfectly comfortable chairs in the house. Or even here on the porch. Barns are full of animals.”

  Luke snickered. “Allie doesn’t have any chickens.”

  “That chicken bit me. And if you keep rubbing that in, I might have to…” Zeph’s voice trailed off when he realized he didn’t have any real threat. “Whatever.” He raised his beer. “Cheers.”

  After a long slug of frosty beer, Luke said, “How’s the case going? Must be something to get you to set foot in this—what did you call it? ‘Godforsaken, back-of-nowhere, wide spot in the road.’”

  Misleading a friend like Luke went against the grain. Admitting to working undercover violated every investigative principle. “Case?” Zeph said innocently, just in case Hannah hadn’t told him anything.

  “Yeah. Although since we have a secret weapon, I figure we’ll be seeing a lot of you, case or no case.”

  “Secret—?”

  “Allie. What else?”

  “Right. Like Hannah didn’t tell you about our entertaining little lunch. I don’t know why Allie decided to go along with the pretense that I’m here to ‘court’ her, if I may use Betty’s term.”

  “Sure you do. Think about it. You and Allie—”

  “Are history.” He couldn’t make himself look at Luke, didn’t know if it would be worse to see blame or pity in his friend’s eyes.

  “Bummer. What happened?”

  “She dumped me.”

  “Hannah didn’t tell me about the dumping part. Might make it uncomfortable being here. What happened?”

  “She said she didn’t have time to come to L. A. and she figured I wouldn’t come here.”

  “Yet here you are.”

  A slow smile spread across Zeph’s face. “So I am. And while I’m here…”

  “While you’re here, you’re not going to do anything to hurt Allie,” Luke warned.

  “Great. Thanks. Just what I need, being treated like some hit/run slacker. Whose side are you on?”

  “Hers.”

  “Thanks a bunch, buddy.”

  “She’s a nice woman.”

  “Well, that’s the damned problem, isn’t it?”

  A marked patrol car turned into the drive and the burly, gray-haired sheriff climbed out.

  “Yo, Zeph. Can’t keep away from our Allie, huh?”

  “Hello, Monty.” He rose to shake hands with the sheriff. “How about one of Allie’s beers? Or is this a professional call?”

  “Yes to the beer. No to the other. Just stopped to say hello. Didn’t have a chance to talk to you the other day. Guess you were too busy.” Monty snickered and lowered himself into one of the chairs. “Where’s Allie?”

  “Emergency. She didn’t say where, just lit out like her tail was on fire.”

  Monty took off his Stetson and scratched his head. “Well, I wondered why you were sittin’ out here drinkin’. While the cat’s away, huh?”

  Zeph went to get the beer, along with refills for himself and Luke. He didn’t know about Luke, but he was pretty sure he’d need one.

  Monty chatted amiably, though, not pushing Zeph, seeming to enjoy swapping stories about work and the fact that life in Stone’s Crossing moved at a more leisurely pace than in L. A. “Don’t know how you stand it, boy,” he said. “But you’re young yet. Me, I’m slowin’ down. Lookin’ to retire here pretty soon.”

  The quizzical look that went with the statement turned Zeph’s blood to sherbet. If that was an offer, it was a damned unwelcome one. He couldn’t think of many things worse that being the sheriff in a place like this.

  “Just had enough,” Monty went on. “Got me a little place outside of town, a few horses, just gonna take it easy. One of these days.”

  “Sounds nice,” Zeph lied. It sounded like suspended animation to him, and he for damned sure didn’t intend to ask who Monty had in mind for a successor. He aimed a kick at Luke when Luke did.

  Luke dodged and shot him a grin.

  “Don’t know,” Monty admitted, apparently oblivious to the byplay. “Still lookin’. No hurry. No hurry. Someone’ll turn up.” He finished his beer and stood. “Guess I’ll get back to work. Just wanted to say hello. Good to see you back here.” He gave Zeph a sharp look. “You be good to our Allie, you hear?” he said, and left.

  “Does everybody in this town know if I floss every night and how often I change underwear?” Zeph asked after a pause.

  “Probably. I thought you figured it out when you were here before—if you don’t want to see it on the front page, don’t even think it. At least not inside the town limits.”

  “Very funny. Very funny.” Zeph lapsed into silence and the afternoon spun by, quiet and golden.

  ****

  By the end of the week, Allie wanted to scream. Zeph had followed her around every day, flirted with her every evening at her dad’s, and worst of all, rattled her cage with kisses every time he had a chance. The one he’d laid on her in the produce section of Paul’s grocery would fuel town gossip for years. “Sorry, sir, I didn’t see you,” indeed. Like Paul believed him. Like anyone could believe that.

  He hadn’t said anything about suspecting her father, but she knew the axe just waited to fall. The whole thing had her edgy as a calf at a roping contest.

  At least she’d get away from Zeph tonight, accompanying her father to one of his movers-and-shakers dinners in Sacramento. Which reminded her, she hadn’t told Zeph he’d be home alone this evening. She grimaced. He’d probably use it to search the clinic.

  The last medical record went into its folder and into the file cabinet and she went looking for Zeph. Just like a man—the first time she’d wanted to talk to him all week and he’d poofed. To be fair, she hadn’t left the office this early since he’d come to town, but why did she have to be fair?

  As she went down the hall to the waiting room, she heard the door open, and Zeph’s voice. “—in there. No, I don’t need to take him. You’re doing fine. I’ll go get Doctor—”

  “I’m right here.” Allie dashed across the room to the boy staggering to carry a shaggy collie mix almost as big as he was. She shot a glare at Zeph, who stood as far from the action as he could get. “What happened to him, Kenny?” she asked the boy as she took the dog and carried him into an exam room.

  “He ran in front of my bike,” Kenny said, suppressed sobs hitching his breath. “I couldn’t stop and I hit him so hard. I ran right over him and he yelled and...” The sobs won.

  “You go sit in the other room. I’ll take care of Thunder.” She nudged Kenny and Zeph toward the door. After a brief, black thought about Zeph, she got to work doing what she did best—saving a life.

  When she’d gotten the bleeding stopped, x-rayed for broken ribs, and stitched up the gash in the puppy’s leg, she carried him out to the waiting room.

  To her surprise, Zeph had an arm around Kenny’s shoulders and bent over the boy, listening intently. Kenny looked up and froze at the sight of her with his puppy.

  “Re
lax. He’s going to be just fine.” She set the puppy in his lap. “I’ll call your mom to come get the two of you.”

  “I’ll go get your bike. Tell me where you left it,” she heard Zeph say as she crossed the room to the reception desk.

  She punched numbers into the phone, not wanting to let Zeph’s sympathetic handling of the boy soften her anger. After she’d explained to Kenny’s mother, she went back and sat next to the boy and his puppy.

  “Remember, it wasn’t your fault,” Zeph said when he came back with the bike. “When he’s grown up and you’ve trained him, he’ll know to run right alongside your bike and not dart in front of you again. I’ll bet Doctor Allie can help you with that.”

  “Of course I can. I might even start a basic obedience class. I’ll bet Thunder would enjoy that.”

  After Kenny and Thunder had gone, she turned to Zeph. “You were good with him. Thanks.”

  He raised an eyebrow. It gave him a devilish, somehow appealing look that might have weakened her knees if she’d let it. “You thought I’d beat him up?”

  Her heart skipped. “I—uh—no. I just didn’t think...I didn’t expect...”

  “Kindness? I know you’re mad at me, but that hurts. Anyway, I like kids.”

  She swallowed her surprise and changed the subject. “I’m done here. Ready to go?”

  “Sure. Could we stop at the drugstore on the way to your dad’s?”

  Drugstore? Surely he didn’t expect her to sleep with him. A blush heated its way up her face.

  He raised that eyebrow again. “I’m out of toothpaste.”

  Allie turned away to hide the x-rated thoughts she wanted to deny but couldn’t. He’s not for you. Not in a million years, remember? Not to mention that he wants to arrest your father. Get a grip, woman. “Fine. But don’t be long. We’re late as it is.”

  ****

  Allie didn’t say a word in the car. As she pulled up in front of the drugstore, she said, “I forgot to tell you—oh, there’s Santos.”

  Zeph slid out of the car and around to her door by the time she turned off the ignition. “Rodriguez? Introduce me.”

 

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