You Can Lead a Horse to Murder

by Tara Meyers

  Crossing her arms, Ember leaned back against the counter while the thick aroma of coffee began to fill the room. “Is there anything I need to know?”

  “Well,” Mel began, hopping onto the counter and sitting cross-legged across from Ember. “I grew up in Refuge, and my parents are still there. My dad’s a pastor, and my mom’s a school bus driver. Don’t laugh. I started working for Doc Bernie when I was twenty-two. He was very supportive in helping me get my certification, although it took me three years to complete a two-year program. I never actually dated the sheriff’s son. But even though he breaks my ‘no dating men more than two years younger’ rule at twenty-two, I would totally say yes if he ever asked me out.”

  “Anything else?” Ember questioned, openly laughing.

  “I’m a hard worker. I love animals, and I’m fiercely loyal. I may look small, but I can lift a dog half my size.”

  “Wonderful. You’re hired!” Stepping forward at the same time Mel jumped off the counter, the two women exchanged a firm handshake.

  “Thanks, Dr. Burns!” Mel nearly bounced with joy. “I practiced my speech in front of a mirror for a whole week, so I appreciate you letting me deliver it. Otherwise, I would have been beating myself up over the unnecessary stress I caused myself.”

  “Honestly, Mel, I don’t know if you’re going to be as happy after this next week. There’s a ton of work to do, and other than Becky helping out when she can, we’re going to be on our own. I wish I could afford to pay you more, because I feel like I’m going to be asking you to step into a pretty big role as not only my technician but the office manager too.”

  “I do better under stress,” Mel replied without any hesitation. “Marissa ran the office for, like, thirty years. But I was the only one here on weekends, so I know how to do it. My only confession is that I’m a complete coffee addict. Renting the apartment next door was a near-fatal move in that I now operate on a completely different level. Seriously. I’ve already downed two iced lattes today, but I’m all about having a huge cup of that pot you just brewed. What brand is that? It smells incredible!”

  For some reason, Ember was glad to learn Mel also enjoyed coffee. Sanctuary wasn’t quite up to speed with the coffee craze taking over the western half of Washington State, and there were only a couple of shops.

  “I found this blend a few months ago at a small store when I was hiking some trails at Mount Rainier. I’ve been saving it, since I knew the selection wasn’t that vast out here yet.”

  “One day, I’m going to open my own stand here,” Mel stated. After accepting the offered cup from Ember, she doctored it up with some French vanilla creamer. “Can you imagine how popular it would be in the summer with the tourists? Especially on the outskirts of town where you can easily pull in and out.” Sniffing the brew first, she then took a slow sip. “Mmm, you’re right. This is heavenly. So,” she added, “when do I start? And are you going to tell me what happened out at Bonnie’s?”

  “The clinic doesn’t officially open until a week from this coming Monday, but if you can start now, I have some samples for you to take to the lab in Parker for me,” Ember replied, digging in her bag for the vials. “As for Bonnie’s …” Hesitating, she debated how to say it. “There was an accident. A really bad accident. We need to keep this under wraps for now because it’s still being investigated, okay?”

  “Okay …” Mel said slowly, encouraging Ember to continue.

  “There’s no easy way to say it. Butterscotch was freaking out, and when we got him out of his stall, Becky and I found Tom Clark’s body. It looked like he was trampled to death.”

  Pausing with the mug up to her mouth, Mel’s eyes got wide. She slowly lowered it without taking another drink. “Well. I would have never guessed that!”

  “Do you know Tom?”

  “I know who he is,” Mel answered. “But I don’t—didn’t—know him. I moved to Sanctuary just this past year, after I finished school, because the commute was closer from Refuge. I’m still considered an ‘outsider.’”

  Ember knew exactly what Mel was talking about. In such a small community, acceptance was slow in being earned. Even though Ember was born and raised there, many would view her as a traitor for moving away for so long. It would take time before she was welcomed back into some of those tight circles.

  “Are you sure he was trampled? I mean, the guy was a farrier, so he obviously knew how to handle a horse. That doesn’t make any sense. Didn’t Bonnie know he was there?”

  “Trust me,” Ember breathed, tossing another toy out for Daenerys. “There are a ton more questions than there are answers. Butterscotch calmed down a lot once we got him out and sedated him, but his vitals were off. Not a lot, but enough to make me suspicious. That’s why it’s so important to get the blood to the lab right away. I know we won’t get results until after the weekend, but I want to at least get it there.”

  “Are you thinking rabies?” Mel glanced at Ember’s hands and then moved her coffee cup farther from her face.

  “Yeah, but don’t worry. I gloved up and also washed my hands several times before I left. Plus, he didn’t have a high fever or exhibit several of the classic signs of rabies.”

  “Maybe meningitis or a brain tumor or something else that could affect his brain,” Mel mumbled, thinking out loud.

  “Yeah, a virus crossing the blood-brain barrier is my top suspect, but I hadn’t thought of a tumor. If the blood comes up negative and he’s still displaying symptoms, we could suggest a brain scan. Good thinking!”

  “Thanks, Dr. Burns,” Mel replied, blushing slightly. “I can leave now, if you like. Did you already contract with the lab for services? Because they have order slips that need to be filled out.”

  “Oh, yeah! I have a pad of them in my office. I’ll go get one. And, Mel, you can call me Ember when we don’t have anyone here. I still feel funny being called doctor at all, but I know it lends a certain amount of credibility when the clients hear the title.”

  “A well-earned title,” Mel countered. “I could never go to school for that long, or handle the classes. People don’t realize it requires the same level of training as a human doctor!”

  “Thanks,” Ember said with genuine gratitude. It was nice to have someone around who understood what was involved in her career. “When you get back, maybe you can help me figure out how to finish putting my stupid desk together, and then I’ll buy you a ‘welcome aboard’ dinner.”

  Before Mel had a chance to answer, there was a pounding at the front door. Both ladies jumped, but Ember recovered first. Glad that she thought to lock the door behind them, she went and peeked out through the pulled blinds on the large window beside the door.

  Sheriff Walker stared back.

  Fumbling with the deadbolt, she was thoroughly embarrassed by the time she got the door open.

  “You know we have a nearly non-existent crime level here, right?” he asked, a grin on his broad face.

  “Habit. What’s up?”

  “Dr. Austin sent me over,” Walker explained. “Neither one of us has your cell number, and you didn’t give me your statement yet.”

  “Oh.” Ember had promised to turn in the witness account by the next day. “If you have a few minutes, I can finish writing it up now.”

  “No, that’s not why I’m here.” Glancing at Mel, he gave her a nod. “Hello, Mel.”

  “Hey, Sheriff! How’s Cody?”

  Shaking his head, Walker ignored the question about his son and turned back to Ember. “I need you to come back with me to the clinic.”

  “Why?” Ember asked, confused.

  “Because Sean is finishing up with his exam, and he needs you to observe as a professional witness.”

  FIVE

  Ember leaned against the wall in the farthest corner of the room she could find. Even though Sean was only conducting an exam and not an autopsy—since he wasn’t a certified medical examiner or forensics pathologist—it wasn’t where Ember wanted to be. She’d
had to sit in on such things as a student and found it nightmare-inducing. The sooner they got to the point of why she was there, the better.

  Seeing Dr. Sean Austin in his element was somewhat intimidating. The clinic was a far cry from a large hospital, but it was still impressive, especially for Sanctuary. An ornate plaque prominently placed near the entrance had a short list of benefactors.

  “How many employees do you have here?” Ember asked, desperate to fill the silence and take her mind off the body on the table. Sean and Sheriff Walker were huddled on the other side of the exam room, apparently going over the report.

  Glancing up at her, Sean flashed a warm smile. “I have three other doctors, a physician’s assistant, and two nurses working for me. We’ve got a portable x-ray machine and even a refurbished CAT scan. Only thing we have to send our patients away for is an MRI. While we can deal with most minor emergencies, anything surgical or needing admission is transferred to the nearest receiving facility. Between the two other private practices here in Sanctuary, we keep our community pretty well covered.”

  Ember wasn’t sure why, but his reply felt canned, like he’d rehearsed it for a commercial. But he was so charming that she found herself smiling back like he’d just revealed some great secret.

  Irritated at the way her pulse sped up in response to his attention, she pointed at the papers in his hand instead of embarrassing herself by gushing compliments. “Is that what you want me to sign? Because I already started writing up my statement from this morning.” She was eager to get back to her clinic. She’d closed Daenerys in her office with a large dog bed and a bowl of water, but there was no guarantee she wasn’t already chewing on a leg of her new desk.

  “Yes,” he answered, not missing a beat. “However, it’s different from the witness form. This is my medical examination report. As you know, since I’m not a pathologist, I can only sign death certificates for natural or accidental causes. Anything requiring further scrutiny has to be sent out, and this case is borderline. Tom’s wife, Vanessa, is vehemently against an autopsy being conducted. A lot of people feel the same way, and I understand how painful this all is for her. To avoid any push-back from the state, I figured it would help to have a professional witness attest to the fact that a horse did, in fact, cause the death.”

  Crossing the short distance between them, Sean handed her the three-page document and a pen. Skipping to the last page, Ember turned to use the wall to sign against. As she stood with the pen hovering over the line, she read through the statement she was attesting to, which was conveniently filled in for her:

  I, Ember Burns, bear witness to the examination of Thomas Clark and confirm to the best of my knowledge as a DVM, certified in the State of Washington, that the most likely cause of death was blunt-force trauma to the head, which was done by a horse in his stall while Mr. Clark was working in his profession as a farrier.

  Ember paused. By signing, she could very well also be signing Butterscotch’s death certificate, and she hadn’t actually seen any of the exam. The horse was her patient, and he was still alive. She owed it to him to be truthful and thorough. As much as she hated the idea, she lowered the papers and turned back to Sean.

  “I’m sure I won’t come to any other conclusion, but I think I should examine the … body, before I sign this.”

  Sean’s smile faltered. He didn’t take the statement back. “Dr. Burns, if you already know what you’re going to find, then why put yourself through it? I can assure you that there’s nothing to gain by it.”

  “Please, you can call me Ember. And I’m sure you’re right, but I still have the horse to deal with. If there’s any chance he didn’t do this, I would be negligent to not take the time to make sure.”

  Nodding in understanding, the doctor seemed to relax a little with the explanation. Ember wondered if his ego was really that big or if it was the opposite and he thought she was questioning his judgment. Either way, she couldn’t be concerned about his feelings at the moment.

  Moving forward, she donned some nitrile gloves and began to look over the wounds, tentatively at first but then with growing interest. There were several blows to the head that could have been fatal, but there was little bruising other than around one eye and along the jawline. His chest was unremarkable.

  Straightening, Ember saw that both Dr. Austin and Sheriff Walker were watching her. Blushing slightly, she decided to go all-in. “Can you help me roll him?”

  “Roll him?” Sean repeated.

  “Yeah. I’d like to see his back.”

  “Is that really necessary?” Walker asked, looking put out.

  Feeling the first stirrings of irritation, Ember began to roll him herself. “Look, you guys are the ones that asked me to sign my name to an official document. So don’t act like I’m the one being unreasonable.”

  Shrugging, Sean stepped up to the other side of the table and took over the task, directing the sheriff to help. “She’s right,” he said, surprising her. “Ember, I shouldn’t have asked you to sign that without having you here for the whole procedure. I made the assumption that you would prefer not to take part, but I was clearly mistaken.”

  Satisfied with the apology, Ember simply smiled in response and then continued her investigation. Aside from some abrasions, Sean was right, and his back was unremarkable too. Leaning in for a closer look at the cuts to see if there was any sign of bleeding to indicate if they happened prior to or after death, Ember noticed something odd. While most of the scratches were ragged, there was one that stood out. She had always had a knack for patterns, or anything that didn’t fit a pattern. One particular mark was small, straight, and very precise. It also had a defined area of bruising and inflammation around it that was different from the rest.

  Reaching out, Ember traced a gloved finger along it. It was no more than an inch in length, located just below the shoulder blade and in between two ribs on the left side. Placing her other hand on the opposite side of the wound, she pulled the two edges apart, revealing a deep laceration or puncture. Very deep.

  “What’s that?” Walker demanded, suddenly interested.

  “Maybe he fell against something in the stall?” Sean offered, also moving in closer to scrutinize it.

  “Well, whatever made that cut was extremely sharp,” Walker observed. “And I don’t recall seeing anything in the stall that would account for it.”

  “What about the farrier tools?” Sean pressed. “A couple of those chisels might be about the right size.”

  “What about his shirt?” Ember suggested. “Lay it out. Let’s see what kind of cut there is on it and how much blood.”

  “Whoa …” Walker called out, holding his hands up to stop Sean from touching the shirt. “Sean, I’m sorry, but you know what this means.”

  Sean and Ember looked at each other and then back at the sheriff. The slow realization of what her discovery just triggered caused a new knot of anxiety to spring to life in Ember’s stomach.

  “I’m going to have to confiscate all of his belongings as evidence and turn his body over to the state for an autopsy and complete forensics analysis,” Sheriff Walker spelled out for them. “This is now a potential murder investigation.”

  SIX

  The sun was painting a colorful pallet in the sky by the time Ember drove back out to Bonnie and Carl’s place. It wasn’t exactly on her way home, but she didn’t have to go too far out of her way.

  Mel had been sitting on the step of the clinic again when she’d returned earlier, and it was decided that the first order of business was to have some keys made. That, and tackling the desk was all they had time for. Mel got called to her parents, so they decided to do dinner another night.

  Ember already planned to check in on Butterscotch, but she was debating what exactly to say to Bonnie. Everything was speculation at that point. It could still go either way: a sick horse or a murderer on the loose. If it were the later, she realized, there was no way of knowing who the killer was. Except that t
hey went to some extremes to try and cover it up. And it could be anyone.

  “Get a grip, Burns,” Ember muttered out loud, causing Daenerys to whimper in response and tilt her head sideways. “It’s okay, girl,” Ember cooed. “I’m just doing a good job of freaking myself out.”

  Her cell phone took that opportune moment to ring, making her jump, and Daenerys bark. Laughing, Ember concentrated on not weaving in her lane. Fortunately, they were approaching the entrance to the ranch, so she pulled over and stopped under the big archway. The old truck had nothing resembling Bluetooth, so she dug her phone out of her pocket on the fifth ring and held it to her ear.

  “Hello? This is Dr. Burns.”

  “Hey, uh … Ember. This is Sean. I hope you don’t mind that I got your number off your statement.”

  Instantly concerned, Ember’s brow furrowed. Why would Dr. Austin be calling her? She left his office feeling extremely awkward, unsure of whether she had potentially made a vital discovery or simply caused a hard situation to be even more difficult.

  “No, that’s fine,” she replied with some hesitation. “What can I do for you, Dr. Austin?”

  There was a pause.

  Good, he noticed I’m keeping things formal.

  “Ember, I feel like the circumstances we’ve met under have gotten us off to a wrong start. I’d like to correct that. Maybe over dinner tomorrow night? And please, call me Sean.”

  Completely taken off guard, Ember stuttered, “I … um … well, I suppose.” Instantly chastising herself, Ember looked accusingly at Daenerys for not stopping her. “What I mean, is—”

  “Good!” Sean interrupted, not giving her a chance to recant her acceptance. “Will you be in town tomorrow? If so, I can pick you up at your office around five.”

  Letting out a sigh of defeat, Ember closed her eyes. “Sure. I’ll be there around that time, but I won’t be dressed very nice.” Maybe she could convince him she would be an embarrassment to take out in public.