He removed the transmitter, cleaned it, and then stripped off the soiled sleeve, throwing it into the trash. “How long ago was this mare bred, Gus?”
“I don’t know.”
“A week, two weeks, a month?”
“I don’t reckon I know when she was bred.”
That was a strange answer. “We can see a pregnancy at about twelve to fifteen days on an ultrasound. Was she with a stallion at least two weeks ago?”
Gus shook his head and looked down at the floor. “Not that I know of.”
“More recent?”
“I don’t think so.”
Gus looked up at him briefly before sliding his gaze off sideways. In that second, Cole sensed confusion mixed with a hint of suspicion in his client’s eyes. Did Gus think he was lying to him?
Cole handed him the ultrasound photo and pointed out landmarks while he explained. “Here’s a picture of her uterus. When a mare is pregnant, we see a dark spot inside here where the embryo implants. There’s nothing like that here. She’s open.”
Gus took the photo and stared at it.
Cole had another thought. “Did you have this mare artificially inseminated?”
“Nope. Not by my choice.”
He waited, but Gus seemed to have no further explanation. “You can keep that,” he said when Gus started to hand the picture back to him. “Why did you think the mare could be pregnant?”
Gus folded the picture slowly and put it in his shirt pocket. “The way she looks.”
“How’s that?”
“She’s gettin’ pretty big through the belly.”
Cole studied the mare. The sorrel horse stood about fifteen hands, maybe less, built short and sturdy. Her stout neck and full hip, as well as her torso, showed that she’d packed on some extra pounds. “She’s gained some weight over the winter. Have you been giving her grain?”
“Yeah.”
“You might eliminate that and just stick to grass hay. Be careful if you turn her out to grass this spring. We don’t want her to founder.”
Gus couldn’t have looked more alarmed if Cole had told him the mare had sprouted two heads. “Don’t want that. I . . . I’ll keep her in the corral.”
Surprised at the man’s reaction, Cole wondered if he’d been too blunt. Perhaps he should try harder to explain. “What I’m saying is, she’s carrying some extra weight, so she might be at risk to founder if she goes out and eats all the lush green grass she can find. You can help her out by not feeding her grain now and sticking to grass hay, just a flake in the morning and evening. We can take some weight off her now so she’s ready for pasture later. But when you turn her out onto grass, just let her out for an hour at first. Limit her time on pasture so she doesn’t get an overload. That’s what causes the founder.”
Gus seemed to be paying strict attention, hanging onto Cole’s every word and nodding. “Okay, Doc. I’ll take care of her.”
The discussion about foundering aside, Cole felt more confused by the minute. Surely Gus knew what caused an animal to get pregnant. And the man seemed overly sensitive to whatever he tried to tell him. He didn’t know what else to say, and his next client would be waiting by now, so he decided to wrap things up.
“Let me know if you have any more concerns or questions, but I’m sure she’ll be fine. She’s a stout, healthy mare. An easy keeper, right?” He crossed over to the mare, flipped up the latch on the stocks, and started backing her out. The gentle mare moved slowly and steadily backward and out the door.
Cole handed the lead rope to Gus, their earlier conversation about the disconnected phone line on his mind. “Do you want to pay for this next month, Gus? We can run an account and bill you if you want.”
Gus looked offended. “I can pay my bill today.”
“All right. Just wondered, with the charges last night for Dodger and all.” Cole offered a handshake to say good-bye. “Call me if you need me. Once you get her loaded, come back inside and settle up with Tess.”
At hearing Tess’s name, Cole noticed the man’s face flush before he turned to lead the horse away and then hurried to pack up the ultrasound machine so he could get to his next appointment. He didn’t know much about Gus. He looked to be about fifty-something. Didn’t know if he’d once been married or if he’d always been single. He seemed uncomfortable around others, but more so now than in the past.
For some reason, Gus had changed.
Chapter 8
Mattie’s radio crackled before the dispatcher, Rainbow Sanderson, spoke. “K-9 One, copy?”
Mattie keyed on the transmitter and responded with her location. “Timber Creek High. Go ahead.”
“Return to the station at your earliest convenience.”
“Copy that.”
She placed the transmitter back in its cradle and turned the key to start the Explorer, bringing the engine to life. She and Robo had completed a thorough search of Smoker’s Hill, but all they found was trash. No backpack. She believed whoever had been with Candace at the time of her death must have taken it. Still, she had lots to show for their efforts—she’d bagged everything outside the environmental norm that Robo indicated. Even if there was nothing inside the bag that was useful as evidence, she and Robo had at least done a thorough cleaning of the area.
A squeak came from Robo in his compartment, and she glanced at the rearview mirror to check on him. His pink tongue curled while he finished his yawn, making her fight one of her own. But then she decided, What the heck? Her ears popped while she allowed herself the widest yawn possible.
After spending time with Cole and Angela, it had been a short night. She hated to admit it, but having something to concentrate on at work helped keep her head straight, and she’d slept better the few hours she spent in bed than she had in days. She’d taken Robo out for his morning run, and they’d both seemed sharp and at the top of their game during their search, though perhaps a little sleepy now that the job was finished.
The call to come back to the station meant that Stella had arrived and would have news about the autopsy. Mattie turned onto Main and cruised slowly to the station, noting that all was quiet in town with the kids in school and very few patrons at the scattered shops.
Several cars and pickups were parked at the Watering Hole, representing the early lunch crowd at the local bar and grill. She studied the vehicles, looking for anything different that caught her eye, anything off. After Candace’s death, she needed to be hypervigilant.
As she drove past, she noticed four men who were opening doors to a silver SUV parked diagonally at the curb. They were all dressed in neutral-colored outdoor gear, khakis and greens, with warm caps pulled low on their heads. They looked like hunters—only it wasn’t hunting season. And another thing caught her attention. As if choreographed, they all averted their faces and hurried to enter their vehicle as she drove by. Taking shelter? It was enough to make Mattie take a mental note of the license plate number, a reflexive response.
If she hadn’t been headed to a meet at the station, she might have turned around and followed them out of town, just to see which way they were headed. But under the circumstances, she jotted down the license plate number on a pad she kept affixed to her dashboard, tore off the page, and stuffed it into her shirt pocket. She’d ask Rainbow to look up the plate and make sure the vehicle wasn’t listed as stolen.
She parked beside Stella’s silver Honda and unloaded Robo. He walked sedately beside her at heel, evidently having had enough exercise this morning to make him well behaved for the rest of the day. When she entered the building, Rainbow lifted a hand in a gesture to wait while she finished up a phone call.