Саманта Сильвер - Just Horsing Around

I looked around carefully. There was a security camera, so I was going to have to do this on the sly. I pretended to look confused for a second while I whispered “ recludaroa, ” while focusing on the lock. I heard the latch turn, and I quickly tried the handle again, making a show of looking confused when it worked.

Darting inside I saw my sunglasses sitting on the table. I grabbed them and was about to make my way back out when I heard Corey talking to Ellie in the room next door.

“Look, what’s done is done. We can’t do anything about it now.” Corey’s voice was hushed, like he wanted to avoid being overheard.

“But what if she - ” Ellie started, but Corey cut her off.

“Do you think she’s going to haunt us from beyond the grave? No, Ellie. This is our chance. This is our time .”

I didn’t have a chance to hear what Ellie was going to reply, as suddenly I heard the click of Susan’s efficient high-heels coming towards me. I couldn’t be seen here, Corey and Ellie would know that I’d overheard their conversation. I grabbed the sunglasses and quickly stepped back outside, closing the door soundlessly behind me. I didn’t dare re-lock the door, I figured Susan would eventually see it and think she’d forgotten to lock it.

When I was finally back safely in my car and heading back away from the farm I realized just how strongly my heart was beating. I replayed the conversation over in my mind.

“What’s done is done. We can’t do anything about it now.” Was Corey talking about the murder? Was he talking about him having committed the murder? Did he and Ellie get together and plot to kill her mother so they could be together? Surely not. Ellie was way too sweet for that. But did Corey do it on his own, and then tell Ellie what he’d done?

There were just so many possibilities. My mind wound its way through the myriad of facts I’d discovered so far, trying to make sense of it all. Everything anyone who was at the house now seemed suspicious to me; any one of them could have killed Caroline Gibson, and despite all this new information, it felt like I was no closer to figuring out who it was.

Chapter 7

After stopping at home to grab a quick bite to eat, I made my way to the vet clinic around noon; I wanted a bit of time to personally call the patients I’d had to reschedule to apologize. People in Willow Bay tended to be understanding, especially with people like me who had lived here their whole lives, but I still felt bad that I had to reschedule so many appointments.

“Finally, I was wondering if you’d forgotten you work here,” Bee announced when I came in through the front door. I was the only person in the clinic, it seemed Sophie and Karen, the receptionist, had each gone out to get lunch before one.

“Oh can it,” I told my cat. “It’s not like I had any choice in the matter. Besides, what do you care? You just sit in that same spot and sleep every day.”

“I like to lord it over the pets that come in here that this is my territory, in a regal manner,” Bee replied. “How am I supposed to display my superiority when there isn’t a constant parade of peons coming past to be poked and prodded by you while I sit on my throne in peace, my sensitive bits unmolested?”

I rolled my eyes at my cat as I sat down and grabbed my appointment book.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize that missing a half day of business was affecting you so negatively.”

“Apology accepted. Now when do I get to lord my presence over other animals again?” Bee asked as I dialled the first number on the list.

“In about forty minutes,” I replied, glancing at the clock, holding my hand over the mouthpiece as the phone began to ring.

“Good,” Bee replied, and five seconds later as Grace Montreuil answered the phone, I noticed my cat was already fast asleep.

Twenty minutes later Sophie came back into the office, with Karen only about two minutes behind her. I went into the back with Sophie to get some vaccines prepared for our afternoon patients, as well as the anaesthetic for a dog who was going to get surgery done that afternoon to remove a benign lump from his leg that had grown in an awkward place and was making it tough for him to walk.

As we went through the process I told Sophie exactly what had happened that morning, including the conversation I’d overheard between Corey and Ellie.

Sophie let out a low whistle. “Man, this case just gets weirder and weirder. Do you think the daughter could be in on it with Corey?”

I shook my head slowly. “No, I don’t think so. She doesn’t really seem to be the type. I think he could have done it on his own, but you didn’t see how dependent she was on her mom. I don’t think she would have done it.”

“Still, you said she owns the whole farm along with the horse with million dollar swimmers,” Sophie argued.

I giggled at her description, but I couldn’t ignore the truth in what Sophie was saying. Still, I shook my head.

“I know. She does inherit; she’s pretty much loaded now. But I still don’t think she did it. She’s just not the type.”

“Ok, fair enough. But this Corey guy might have?”

I shrugged. “I know he got called out of the stable when I was in there, and he was gone about fifteen minutes, maybe twenty. So he definitely had the opportunity. I didn’t notice anything weird or different about him when he got back, but then I also didn’t know I was potentially looking for a murderer at the time. If he was out of breath or whatever I might have just thought he jogged back to the stable or something and put it completely out of my head.”

“Plus you say he wanted to be in a relationship with Ellie but couldn’t because of her mom.”

“That’s what I heard from Polly, and it certainly sounded true given what I overheard between the two of them later.”

“So he had every reason to get her out of the way. What about the maid, Susan?”

I shrugged. “She doesn’t seem to have any reason to hate Caroline Gibson – not more than anyone else who worked for her, at first glance, but she seemed really upset this morning. I don’t know, maybe she’s just a sensitive person who puts on a stern face for her job, or something.”

“Why can’t we just get an easy-to-solve murder mystery for once?” Sophie complained as Karen came in and told us our next client was here.

“I know, right?” I told her as we made our way into the exam room.

We were met by a plump, short woman in her late fifties with a happy, round face and a very unhappy looking cat.

“Hi, I’m Angela, the vet here in town, and this is Sophie, my vet tech,” I introduced, holding out a hand.

“Lovely to meet you young ladies. I’m Gloria Patton, I just moved to Willow Bay from Seattle. I’m retired, see, I used to be a schoolteacher. But now in my old age I decided I just want to live in a small town, away from the city, but still close enough to see my grandchildren. This is Buster. He showed up on my doorstep one day weighing next to nothing. Poor thing. I’ve taken care of him ever since that day, about four years ago.”

“Hi Buster,” I said to the cat, and just got a snarl in return.

“So you don’t know exactly how old he is?” I asked, dreading the answer somewhat. Gloria Patton seemed like a talker, I was hoping by asking questions I wouldn’t end up with a ten minute long story.

“No, I’m afraid I don’t. I asked the girls that I used to hang around when I first got him, see. They thought he looked about 2-3 at the time. The old vet up in Seattle thought the same, so that would make him around six or seven now, if they were correct.”

I did a regular physical exam on Buster. Going by the state of his teeth, I thought that was accurate. I nodded. “Yes, that seems about right,” I said.