Chapter Eleven

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Once again, alone in the stables, only Jasper monitors my progress. He seems to know just where to stop the wagon so it's most convenient for mucking. At the end of the aisle, he makes a wide turn to stand before a sliding steel door that must enclose another part of the barn. He brays and flattens his donkey ears and waits patiently for me to open the panel.

"Are we supposed to go in there?"

Jasper emits a wheezing sound which I interpret as an affirmative, but after how he tricked me into the pigpen, I still don't trust him. I carefully unlatch the rolling-door and peer inside. He's probably right, it's just more of the same. I slide open the bulkhead and Jasper pulls the wagon down the corridor. I push the barrier shut again and keep-on mucking. The cart is half full.

Pigeons flutter in the ceiling overhead and the crusty barn cat comes to watch. I leave donkey munching hay while I carry-on ahead. These pens are less soiled, and so I imagine they're occupied by smaller horses.

After cleaning these pens, I come realize I'm almost done. Around the corner, Ainsley's saddle rests on her tack box. Should I give Kaiser's stall my professional maid service? No. It's not safe. But why not? The big horse respects me, and I know he's friendly.

I unlatch the gate, and he backs away. He probably thinks we're going riding.

"Housekeeping," I show him the fork handle and he snorts. I carefully pick up the first plop which is right by the door, and I think he understands. After another minute and a few more scoops, and he walks with me and doesn't mind sharing his stall.

I hear voices and freeze; Kaiser's ears also perk up. We stand motionless and listen as two men converse beside the storeroom. The raspy throat belongs to Mr. Delany, and the other speaker is Dr. Swansea, the weepy veterinarian.

"... And of course, all this would happen on a Wednesday," the young vet complains.

"Yes, she ruined your Woodbine after all." Bernard observes, "the girl's an incorrigible monkey wrench."

"That's not what I meant. I pray for her every minute..

Bernard asks the vet, "cops bother you much?"

"Went through all my lists."

"The methylphenidate?"

"Oh scandal," Jon says sarcastically. "Two vials missing."

"But you misplaced those back in July, wasn't it?"

"I didn't misplace anything!" Jon retorts. "They were taken."

"When do they expect to get a toxicology report?"

"Police sent the blood test separate. Tomorrow, likely..."

"Will they tell us?"

"Oh yeah. If it's bad news..." Jon replies, "we'll know right away."

"Things will never be same," Bernard laments.

The men go their separate ways. Jon enters the Premier Barn and I duck to avoid being seen. Jasper's cart is still parked where he stopped to eat hay and so the vet won't suspect I'm hiding in Kaiser's pen. He doesn't look around anyway; he exits through the arena on a path to the house.

Their conversation makes me to wonder about methylphenidate. Could it be administered orally? Or does it require a needle? Could it kill a horse? If such medicine can only be injected direct into the blood stream, as I witnessed with Prince, then Ainsley's peanuts are inconsequential. If fed orally, then I need to know how much time it takes. I need to research that medication.

Toni Petti - Horse Girl HomicideWhere stories live. Discover now