by Tara Meyers
As he stepped away to locate the pass, Ember noticed he was wearing a park ranger uniform, complete with a badge and gun. No wonder he handled the couple so well.
“Where are you headed?” he asked when he returned. “And that’ll be thirty-five dollars.”
Handing him a credit card, Ember had a hard time not staring. He had amazing teeth. “Umm, the trailhead just past Parker Creek.”
Nodding his head in approval, he rang up the transaction. “Smart. Even with all the traffic right now, that trail should be relatively quiet. It’s not well-known. You must be from around here, but I don’t remember ever seeing you before. And I would remember.”
Blushing slightly at the compliment, Ember took the card back. “I grew up in Sanctuary, but I moved away ten years ago. I just came back recently. It’s the first time I’ve been up here in years.”
“I’ve worked here for two years now, and it hasn’t changed much during that time. One of the nice things about working in a federal park that’s protected.”
“Are you Lakota?” Ember questioned, hoping she wasn’t over-stepping. But he’d piqued her interest, and several of his features were familiar to her.
The man looked surprised for only a moment and then broke out in a wide smile. “Yup. Dakota Sioux tribe. But I have to say, that’s kind of an odd question.”
Her blush deepening, Ember rushed to explain. “My grandmother was a rebel back in her day and married a prominent member of a Lakota Blackfoot Sioux tribe. I haven’t been back there to visit for a while now, but growing up, we would always spend part of our summer at their place in North Dakota.”
Staring at her, a humorous twinkle in his dark eyes, he titled his head to the side questioningly. “So that would make you …”
“Around a quarter Lakota. I know, I know,” she appeased, lifting up her ponytail. “I don’t exactly look it, but I’m convinced that my mother’s heritage is what saved me from the fate of fair skin and freckles.”
Laughing, the man held out a hand. “I’m Nathan. Nice to meet you.”
“Ember.” Taking his hand, Ember didn’t know if it was her imagination or not, but he seemed to linger before letting go.
A door at the back of the room banged open, and a young man in a parks employee shirt ran over. “Sorry, Nate. I mean, officer Sparks. I got a phone call, and then the restaurant took forever to make my sandwich. Thanks again for sitting in for me.”
“Not a problem, Brandon. Happy to help out.”
Standing there somewhat awkwardly, Ember watched the exchange. When Nathan looked back at her, she grinned and then pointed at the forestry pass still on the other side of the counter.
Snatching it up, he came around and held it out to her. “I’ll walk you out,” he offered.
Once they were outside, Ember was embarrassed to point out her rusty truck. “I inherited it from my mom,” she explained as they walked toward it. She saw that his patrol car was only a few spots over. “She passed away about a month ago. That’s what prompted me to move back home.” She wasn’t sure why she was telling him her life story, but she found it easy to talk to him for some reason.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” he replied with the right amount of sincerity.
Glancing up at him, Ember realized that he was quite tall. His shiny black hair wasn’t exactly long, but it wasn’t cropped, either, coming to rest just above his collar. His angular features and high cheekbones could have made him look severe, but instead, she saw someone who was intelligent and friendly.
“Thanks. I’m working through it. Although this first week has started out with a bit of drama.”
“I hope you weren’t mixed up with Tom’s death,” he continued, his voice changing. “I haven’t had a chance to talk with Sheriff Walker yet, but I know there’s some question about what really happened.”
“Not exactly,” Ember answered, trying to figure out how to answer the question. “I’m a veterinarian. I was called out to the ranch initially because of the horse. I’m the one that … found him. Did you know Tom?”
Looking up at a rocky peak visible through the trees across from them, Nathan let out a long breath. “Yeah. We used to be friends. I met him the first winter I moved up here while out snowmobiling. Turned out we were both into riding.”
“Horses?”
Laughing again, Nathan looked back down at her. “No. I’ve never really been into horses. Motocross. Tom and I have two-stroke bikes we like—liked to take to a track over in Parker. They have races in the summer on Saturday nights. Last year we went nearly every weekend, but I haven’t seen him in close to six months.” Pulling his wallet from his back pocket, Nathan took out a business card. “Here,” he said while handing it to her. “My cell number is on there. You know, in case you need anything. Or a hiking partner.”
Smiling, Ember took the card and stood tapping it against her lips as she watched him walk toward his patrol car. But as she turned to open the truck door, something he said made her pause.
Ignoring Daenerys’s impatient bark, she called out to him. “Nathan!”
Stopping, he looked back at her expectantly.
“I’m just curious. You said you haven’t seen Tom in almost six months. Why?”
“Well, up until January, his job as a farrier was hit-and-miss with the local clients. But then he got hired as a full-time hand and farrier at the Ellsworth Stables. I guess his time was suddenly too valuable to spend riding dirt bikes. Prior to that point, he never had anything good to say about the Ellsworth’s. Funny how once that money was thrown his way, his opinion suddenly changed.”
FOURTEEN
Ember couldn’t get the thought out of her head. “You’d think his farrier was using gold horseshoes!” The drunken declaration made by Sandy Ellsworth that morning had taken on a whole new meaning.
Dodging a branch, Ember forced herself to slow down. The hike was supposed to be about relaxing, not to see how hard she could push it. Stopping in the middle of the groomed dirt trail, she put her hands on her hips and breathed heavily. The strong pine scent was soothing, and the warm air made it feel like it permeated everything.
The trail was steeper than she remembered. It was a good workout. Daenerys sat obediently at her feet, taking to the hiking experience like she’d done it all her life.
Unclipping the straw from the built-in camel pack, Ember took a long swallow of lukewarm water. Daenerys had just had a dip and drink from one of the many streams they crossed. She’d need a bath for sure when they got home. Smiling, Ember knelt down and gave the dog a hug.
“I’m glad you’re here,” she whispered into the silky fur of her friend’s neck.
Yanking her head back unexpectedly, Daenerys whipped around to stare up the trail, back the way they’d come. Thrown off balance, Ember almost fell but caught herself and hopped to her feet. Though not growling a warning, the dog obviously heard something.
Her right hand hovering over the bear spray clipped to her waist, Ember breathed a sigh of relief when a young couple and black lab came into view. It was bear season, and there was a warning about recent sightings at the trailhead, in addition to a cougar.
“Hello!” Ember called out far in advance of passing. “My dog is leashed but is in training.”
Stopping about ten feet away, the smart girl placed a hand on the top of the lab’s head and waited to see how the two dogs reacted to each other. When all they did was wag and wiggle and whimper in earnest, wanting to play, they allowed the two to “introduce” themselves. After a solid two minutes of sniffing and then bouncing around each other, the three of them said goodbye and parted ways.
“Good girl,” Ember praised. She scooped a treat from a convenient pouch built into her backpack strap and tossed it to Daenerys. She found it amazing how the two of them were already so comfortable with each other. It was a perfect match. Her Aunt Becky had always been good at pairing up animals to people.
Her Aunt Becky. That gave her an idea that migh
t put to rest the feeling she couldn’t shake about the income Tom was receiving for his work at the Ellsworth Stables. They were practically back at the trailhead, and she figured they might have cell reception. Digging her phone out, she was rewarded with a one-bar signal.
Ember paused first to sign out on a sheet located near the entrance to the trail. It was a way to help keep track of its use, as well as to locate the last-known location for a missing hiker. She was sure to sign in and out, especially if hiking by herself.
She dialed her aunt’s number and then slowly undid the clasps on her pack. She was already starting to stiffen up and would, no doubt, be sore later.
“Hey, Ember! What’s up?”
Smiling at the ever-present energy in her aunt’s voice, Ember sat her pack down and started feeling around for the truck keys with one hand. “Not a whole lot, Becky. I took Daenerys up to the Parker Creek Trail. She did fantastic!”
“I had a feeling she would.”
“Yeah. You were right, as usual.”
“What did Morton Ellsworth want last night?” Becky questioned. “I hope it was okay to give him your number. He sounded desperate.”
“That’s sort of the reason I called. I want to ask you a question about Tom. I went out to the Ellsworth Stables this morning for an issue with a foaling mare and ended up having a rather interesting conversation with Sandy.”
“Sandy Ellsworth?” Becky questioned. “I knew she came back from the great beyond earlier this year, but I haven’t actually seen her. That was brave of you to go out there, Ember. Brave or stupid. Depends on how it went.”
Laughing, Ember had to agree. “You’re absolutely right, and it was almost catastrophic. But it turned out okay in the end. Both the foal and mare survived, so far, and I have a meeting with Morton Ellsworth later this week to ‘go over my potential future.’”
“With a man like Morton backing you, Ember, that might be just the break you need right now. Please don’t tell me you’re going to do something to mess it up. Why in the world would you have been having a conversation with his daughter about Tom?”
“I didn’t know at the time that it was about Tom,” Ember rushed to explain. “Mr. Ellsworth was getting coffee when Sandy literally stumbled by. She was quite drunk. Said some things about the stable’s finances that she shouldn’t have, including that her father insisted on paying the farrier way too much. I just found out inadvertently, a few hours ago, that Tom was that farrier. Guess he got hired back in January to replace the guy fired for getting the horse hurt.”
“And?” Becky said slowly, obviously not seeing the connection.
“Becky, do you know how much the garage cost that Paul was going to build for Tom?”
“Of course I do,” Becky confirmed. “I’m the bookkeeper for our business. It wasn’t anything too extravagant, but it was big. Three-car bay, plus a shop area and office space above. Tom said something about opening his own farrier business. It came to just under thirty-five thousand.”
Whistling, Ember stood up with the keys in hand. “That’s a good chunk. How was Tom going to pay for that?”
“I don’t know. Never got that far.” Becky paused. “But you know what? Hang on a sec and let me go ask Paul. I know he and Tom talked just a few days before he died.”
Ember busied herself with getting her gear and Daenerys in the truck. Although it was almost five, there were still three other cars parked at the trailhead. While no one was visible, she’d rather continue the conversation inside the truck, out of the open. She was just settling into the driver’s seat when Becky came back on the line.
“Just as I thought, Tom signed the final papers last week. He was supposed to come by this next week to give a ten-thousand-dollar deposit. And—”
“And?” Ember prompted when Becky hesitated.
“He claimed he was going to pay the balance off with cash, once the project was completed.”
“Becky, you know as well as I do that a farrier in this state is lucky to make twenty-five to thirty thousand a year, working full-time. And didn’t he get a new car a couple of months ago? Was no one curious as to where all this cash came from?”
“Honestly, Ember, it wasn’t anyone’s business where he was getting his money from. I assumed, until just now, that he was getting a loan for the garage. Paul was planning on talking to me about it because he was skeptical, but then he let it go after Tom’s death because he didn’t think it relevant anymore. What are you thinking?”
Picking at a thread on her hiking slacks, Ember wondered the same thing. She wasn’t sure, but something wasn’t right; and it all seemed to lead back to the death of the horse that last December.
“It’s probably nothing, Aunt Becky,” she said aloud, not sure how to explain it. “I’ll give you a call later. I need to come by and check on Butterscotch again.”
“Sure, Ember. Anytime. I’ll talk with ya later!”
Slowly lowering the phone, Ember stared out at the evergreens for a minute. Making up her mind, she started the truck. “I guess we’re going by the clinic today after all,” she told Daenerys.
When moving things around the other day, she’d discovered a back room that contained what appeared to be all of Doctor Bernie’s patient records. There was one in particular she was interested in.
It was time to find out what made that horse so special.
***
“Black Shadow’s behavior rapidly deteriorated, with his agitation increasing until he was exhibiting all the symptoms of morphine excitement.” Ember lowered the paper and stared at Daenerys resting on her feet. “Morphine excitement?”
The dog lifted her ears but not her head. She was beat from the long hike.
They were sitting on the floor in the back room of the clinic, papers scattered around them. Several stacks of cardboard boxes lined one wall, and the only furniture was an old table on the opposite wall with a lamp on it. Ember had removed ten boxes and restacked them next to her before finding the one containing the E’s in it. Apparently, Dr. Bernie Chambers didn’t upgrade his filing system at any point during his forty years of practice. It was a mess to wade through.
The Ellsworth file was one of the thickest she’d seen, but the report in her hand was the last one in it. It was a detailed account of that fateful encounter just over six months prior. Based on other exam notes, the thoroughbred, Black Shadow, was a stallion in his prime. The original remarks regarding the injury from the barbed wire were unremarkable. It sounded like a typical gash that was expected to heal without complications. Even when it became infected, it should have still been a simple procedure. Reading what happened, it was anything but ordinary.
Ember was familiar with the use of morphine for pain control in animals, but the settings she’d used it in were different from what transpired with Black Shadow. For surgery, the animals she worked on were given a cocktail of drugs intravenously. Morphine was one of many differing levels of opioids, and the clinic she worked in opted for a cheaper, less-potent version. In the field, they often turned to tranquilizers to calm the animals during procedures, which was a totally different class of drug, with varying doses and effects. Still, she was educated in the basic doses for injection, and it was obvious what had happened with the expensive thoroughbred.
Dr. Chambers was giving him two medications: IV antibiotics and an injectable pain killer, morphine. The amount drawn up in the syringe for the antibiotic was about four times that of the morphine, so when he somehow got the two mixed up, he essentially overdosed the horse, eventually causing its central nervous system to shut down. When the horse became agitated and then had a seizure before he stopped breathing, it wasn’t clear at the time if it was an allergic reaction to the antibiotic or something else. At that point, Dr. Chambers didn’t think he had even administered the morphine yet.
Shaking her head, Ember set the four sheets of paper out on the floor in front of her. The veterinarian didn’t take long to figure out what he’d done. Although t
he bottles of medication didn’t look all that similar, he somehow confused them. It was late, he was tired, and the lighting in the barn was dim. She could imagine his horror when he pieced it all together.
Grabbing her phone, Ember did a search for “morphine excitement in horses.” After skimming through the information, she had a better understanding of what happened. She wasn’t familiar with the term because it only occurred when morphine was given intravenously, which she would never do. In the horse world, intravenous was different than with humans. It didn’t necessarily mean a bag of fluids was hung up on a pole with a tube. It simply meant that the drug was administered directly into a major vein in the horse’s neck, versus the muscle. It was a risky procedure with any medication, if not done by a licensed vet who knew what they were doing.
Excitement.
“Oh my gosh!” Ember exclaimed suddenly. “Butterscotch!”
Daenerys had fallen sound asleep and leapt to her feet when Ember yelled. The space around them was limited, and the labradoodle fell into a box at the bottom of a precarious stack. Before Ember could react, it toppled over, scattering files and loose papers everywhere.
Daenerys gave a small yelp and jumped back the other direction, into Ember’s lap, causing them both to fall over to the side.
Laughing, Ember sat up slowly, holding Daenerys close. “It’s okay!” she cooed, petting the soft curls of her head. “But I think I know what was wrong with Butterscotch,” she continued, looking back at the pages still visible under the avalanche of other documents.
Reaching around Daenerys to gather them up, she lingered over the one titled “Necropsy Report,” which was the animal equivalent of an autopsy. Skimming over the information it contained, she saw that the toxicology was positive for excessive amounts of opioids. A red stamp of “official copy” was inked across its middle.
A second sheet stapled behind it was an exact duplicate of the report and was obviously the original. Except that a small swath of content near the bottom was blacked out with a marker. Flipping back to the “official copy” document, she confirmed that the lower portion was filled in with only four words: normal and within limits. It was the fertility section. The original had two or three sentences and Ember would bet it was a more detailed report of the horse’s sperm count.
