After rolling open the double door at the back of the room, Cole released the stocks and untied the mare. He made a clicking sound with his tongue, and she backed out, her shod hooves scraping against the concrete floor. He decided to put her in one of the runs under the shed, so that if she died, he’d be able to get a tractor in to move her body out for the knacker man to come haul away.
He needed to take a moment to call the mare’s owner and give him a progress report. If he waited any longer, there might not be anything positive to say. And now that he thought about it, there weren’t a whole lot of positive things he could say about his own life right now either.
Chapter 4
After calling the mare’s owner, Cole began to clean up the equine treatment room. Soon he heard a car pull up in front of the clinic. Glancing out the window, he saw a silver-and-blue patrol car marked Timber Creek County Sheriff parked out front, parallel to the building, offering him full view of the driver’s side.
He watched as a female deputy opened her door and stepped out, a grimace crossing her face as she straightened. When she moved to close the door, Cole could see that she must have injured her right leg. Her khaki trousers were torn and bloody at the knee, and she was walking with a limp. In general, she looked a bit worse for wear, brown hair tossed, face scratched, clothing smeared with dirt.
A black-and-tan German shepherd, mouth hanging open in a pant, rode in the back part of the vehicle. At first, Cole thought this was his patient. But the woman went around to the passenger side to open the front door, and when she came back around front, Cole could see that she was leading a Bernese mountain dog.
The deputy and the Bernese both limped toward the clinic’s front door. Cole went inside to meet them.
After passing through the exam room, Cole found the deputy waiting in the lobby with the dog sitting quietly at her feet, a stoic expression on its face. The woman was bent forward, scratching the dog behind its ears.
Cole recognized the Bernese immediately. “What have we got here?”
The deputy looked up, showing Cole a set of intense brown eyes framed by dark lashes. “I’m Deputy Mattie Cobb and this is Belle. She’s been shot.”
“Belle belongs to my daughter’s friend. I know her very well.”
A strange mix of surprise followed by relief crossed the deputy’s face. “I noticed your clinic name on her rabies tag. I was hoping you could tell us who her owner is.”
“I can do that. It’s Grace Hartman. She rarely goes anywhere without this dog.” Cole extended his hand. “Pleased to meet you, by the way.”
The woman’s handshake was as firm as her jaw.
“Let’s bring her into the exam room,” he said, holding the door open.
Cole offered his hand to Belle for a sniff and then placed it on her head. He leaned down to take a look at her hip, matted with blood and dirt. “How in the world did you get yourself shot, Belle? What have you been up to?”
“Grace is how old?”
“Just turned sixteen this summer.”
“And what does she look like?”
“Dark hair that’s usually in a ponytail.” Cole brushed the bridge of his nose. “Little ski-jump nose with a sprinkling of freckles.”
The deputy wore a grim expression. “Who are Grace’s parents?”
“Garrett and Leslie Hartman. They live on a ranch out west of town.” Cole had a thought. “Wait a minute. Is Grace in some kind of trouble?”
“No, nothing like that. Excuse me for a minute. I need to go outside to make a phone call.” She started for the door.
Cole spoke, making her pause. “My assistant had to leave, so I’ll need your help holding Belle.”
“I’ll be right back.” She removed her cell phone from her pocket as she went through the door.
Cole plugged the hair clippers into the wall socket and reached for a muzzle made from nylon straps. While he waited for the deputy to return, he stroked Belle lightly on the head. She looked up at him with woebegone eyes. “Who shot you, girl?”
He didn’t have to wait long. The deputy was as good as her word and returned within a few minutes.
“I’ll have to clean her up before I can tell what we’ve got,” Cole told her.
He slipped the muzzle in place over the dog’s nose and secured it while the deputy held her by the collar. Belle offered no resistance whatsoever, and he leaned down to pick her up. “Let’s get you up on the table where I can take a look at you.”
The deputy assisted by clasping Belle under the stomach and lifting her hips. Belle struggled for a moment, and her nails screeched against the stainless steel tabletop until she settled, her huge paws gripping the slick metal. Cobb pulled Belle in close to her chest.
Shaving away the matted hair, Cole spoke above the noise of the clipper. “Has anyone notified the Hartmans that Belle’s been shot?”
Deputy Cobb looked up from the dog and stared at him with eyes that Cole thought probably didn’t miss much. “The sheriff is taking care of that now.”
Cole bent over Belle’s furry rump and the clipper whirred as he guided it over her skin, leaving a clear path of closely cropped hair in its wake. Soon, he found the bullet’s entry, a small hole where blood had coagulated, located in the meaty part of her leg between her hip and stifle. He shaved carefully around its edges and then turned off the clipper.
Gently, he examined Belle’s leg, raising it to check the inner part of the thigh. Belle whimpered, and Deputy Cobb murmured something in a soothing way, rubbing the brown patch of fur at Belle’s cheek.
“I can’t find an exit wound,” Cole said. “The bullet’s still in her leg. I’ll have to take an x-ray to find out where it is. She’s going to need surgery. Do you know if she’s had anything to eat or drink today?”
There was a furrow of worry on Deputy Cobb’s forehead. “I gave her some water before I brought her in. I don’t know about food.”
Cole smoothed the fur on the dog’s back and placed his stethoscope to listen to her heart sounds. He was reassured by the steady thump. “I’ll keep her overnight and take out the bullet in the morning. I have to run some blood work to make sure she’s healthy enough to handle the anesthesia, but I expect she’ll do fine.”
“Someone from the police department needs to be here when you take out that bullet. We’ll need it for evidence.”
Cole gave her a skeptical smile. “You plan to prosecute someone for shooting a dog in Timber Creek County? It’s a pretty common offense around here.”
“It shouldn’t be. And yes, I plan to.”
Cole admired her determination. “Can I call you in the morning and set up a time? I’ll have to arrange for my assistant to come in, and she doesn’t usually work on Saturdays.”
“Yes. I’ll give you my cell number before I leave. Call the station if you can’t reach me. I also need to talk to you sometime about taking care of Robo, our new police dog. We just got back from training a couple weeks ago, and his vet care’s up to date, so I hadn’t gotten around to it yet. I have his records at home.”
“Is that the shepherd in the back of your car?”
“Yes.”
“Can you bring his records with you when you come in the morning?”
“Yes, sir.”
Cole wished she wouldn’t call him sir. Made him feel like an old man. Besides, he couldn’t be much older than she was. He was only thirty-seven, for Pete’s sake. Not ancient by anyone’s standards.
“I’ll give her something for pain and start her on antibiotics.”