Janey
“Careful, Doc.”
One of Mackey’s wranglers came and got me to come check out a bull.
The animal—going by the name of Crusher—is as menacing as his moniker promises. Already agitated from his performance, and the injury he sustained in his groin when trying to climb the fence exiting the arena, he’s none too pleased being contained in the chute. His nostrils flare red as he snorts and huffs, trying to fight his way out of the constraints.
I’m hanging almost upside down over the side of the chute, trying to use a squirt bottle of distilled water to clean the tear in the bull’s tender skin. Luckily it was a fairly straight tear and not gaping wide open. I should be able to use a wound sealant, preferable to stitches, since those would require some kind of sedation in order to safely get between the animal’s rear legs.
“Can you hand me the can of KeriCure from my kit?”
I’m in a good position to see what I’m doing now and would prefer not to move too much and risk riling up the cranky bull even further. As it is, I’ll have to stick my arm between his legs to get close enough to the wound. As soon as the sealant spray hits that bull in the tenders, he’s gonna buck hard, and I’m going to have to get my arm out of the way fast.
“This is a one-shot deal,” I tell the guy when he hands me the can. “That bull is gonna jump and I don’t want him injuring himself even more. So, as soon as I hit him with the spray, you release the front gate so he can take off to his pen, instead of getting himself tangled up in the chute.”
“Ready?” I call out when I’ve lowered myself into an even more precarious position.
“Yup.”
I blow out a breath to try and calm my nerves; I may be used to handling cattle, but a pissed-off bull isn’t a daily occurrence.
Then I slowly reach my arm underneath the animal, trying hard not to brush against his legs. The moment I hit the nozzle on the spray, he kicks out as predicted.
“Now!” I yell, trying to retrieve my arm and only partially succeeding.
One of the hooves hits me, knocking the can out of my hand as Crusher bolts out of the chute. I scramble down from the fence and immediately check myself for injuries. It hurts like a sonofabitch, and likely will be swollen and bruised by bedtime, but it doesn’t look like anything’s broken.
“That was a damn fool stunt.”
I swivel around to find JD approaching. He immediately reaches for my hand, which is already starting to puff up, and studies it carefully.
“It’s fine. Trust me, I’ve been stomped on and kicked at more than I care to admit, and this is nothing.”
His dark eyes snap up and meet mine. After a quiet stare down, he wisely chooses to abandon that particular subject. I’ll do what I have to do to get the job done, whether he likes it or not. His work can be dangerous, but I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t appreciate me questioning his methods.
Still, he can’t quite keep his protective instincts in check.
“You were supposed to stay with Logan at the corral.”
I take in a deep, steadying breath before I answer, even though my natural inclination would be to bite his head off.
“I was called away to tend to an injured animal, which is my job,” I remind him.
Unfortunately, JD doesn’t seem to read the warning signs and digs in his heels.
“Still, you shouldn’t have gone off by yourself. You’re not safe.”
“I wasn’t exactly by myself,” I fire back, grinding my teeth.
Part of me recognizes the stress of the past few days is probably taking its toll on both of us, and today’s added concerns around the missing woman has us all on edge, but that doesn’t give him a license to treat me like I’m an idiot.
“You would’ve been safer with Logan,” he stubbornly persists, digging himself a deeper hole, because now I’m good and pissed off.
“And Logan would’ve what? Protected me?” I scoff. “Do you even realize how sexist it is to suggest a twenty-something-year-old boy would be better equipped to look after me than I could? Do you even hear yourself?”
Belatedly, I realize my raised voice is drawing an audience; a few passersby slow down and gawk. When I turn my back, I catch sight of the wrangler, leaning against the chute, his arms crossed and a smirk on his face as he openly listens in to what he probably thinks is a lover’s quarrel. Which, I guess, technically it is.
Ugh.
Annoyed, I retrieve my can of KeriCure and toss it into my medical bag, which I then throw over my shoulder. With a nod at the wrangler, but ignoring JD, I start walking back to the other side of the stockyard. Wordlessly, he falls into step beside me, which annoys me even more.
I need a moment to myself, but he’s not giving me the space. So instead of heading straight back to the clinic, I make a sharp right and aim for the restrooms. I’d like to see him try and follow me into the ladies’ room.
With the rodeo well underway, the restrooms are not as busy as they were earlier. I feel a pang of satisfaction at JD’s unhappy grunt when I duck inside. I’m of a mind to leave him waiting out there for a while.
I find an empty stall and slip inside. It only takes me a minute to pee, but I stay seated when I’m done, resting my elbows on my knees and my head in my hands. I’m tired and stressed and now I’m feeling emotionally wrung out as well. Tears burn my eyes, but I don’t think I can afford to let even one roll, or all of me might dissolve into a puddle. Instead, I practice deep breathing—in through the nose, out through the mouth—to try and regain my equilibrium.
Another hour or so for today’s rodeo events to close down. After that the fair will stay open, but I won’t need to stick around. I can do another hour, although the groceries I was planning to pick up on my way home will have to wait, I don’t think I have it in me today. All I want is to go home, soak in a nice hot bath, and then go straight to bed after. I’ll worry about food tomorrow.
Armed with a plan, and feeling a little better, I get out of the stall and step up to the sink. The bathroom doesn’t have the best lighting, but I don’t think it would’ve made a lot of difference to the reflection staring back at me. I look horrendous, my braids half undone, smudges of dirt and God knows what else on my pasty cheek and forehead, sunken, red-rimmed eyes looking shades darker than they’re supposed to be, and sharp lines bisecting my eyebrows and bracketing my mouth.
I’m a mess.
I use hand soap to wash myself, scrubbing my hands, face, and neck, and using paper towels to pat myself dry. It actually does make me feel a little better.
But the moment I step outside, JD is there and takes one look at me before grabbing me by the arm and pulling me around the back of the building, which is butting up against the tree line. There he turns me to face him, pressing my back against the wall, as he lowers his head so his eyes can stare straight into mine.
“I almost came in after you,” he growls in a low voice.
JD
Fuck.
My heart is still hammering in my chest, and I don’t think I’ll ever get rid of that sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. Getting back to Janey had been the only thing on my mind after the discovery Deputy Dale Bastian and I made.
We’d been paired up for the search, and I’d been getting pretty annoyed at the young deputy after listening to him chatter on about everything under the sun for hours, while we slugged around the thick brush. In hindsight it was probably nerves that had him run at the mouth.
He’d recognized Janey as his sister’s boss—apparently Janey’s assistant, Frankie, is Francesca Bastian—which led to a detailed family history. Then he brought up Logan, who was apparently in his graduating class and used to be on the high school football team, and the two of them had a crush on the same cheerleader. Unfortunately, that led the conversation to relationship woes. Apparently, he’d won the girl, and they’d been together until this spring, when she broke it off with him.
I hadn’t exactly been much of a participant in the conversation—it was more a monologue than anything else—but it was at that point I started actively tuning him out. At first, he didn’t even notice I’d stopped walking and was still talking when I pushed aside the low branch hanging over the ditch, not too far from the main road.
But not for long.
She was lying on her back, one arm up, covering her eyes, and the other stretched out, her hand clutched around a clump of quackgrass. Her jeans and underwear were tangled around her ankles and she was left exposed. My mind was already trying to detach as my training kicked in and I began to catalog everything I could see.
There was definitely blood at this scene, it looked like this girl may have fought hard. The hand clutching the grass looked to have blood under the fingernails, and from what I could see of her face, she’d been badly battered. Her death looked to be the result of a number of stab wounds, visible on her bare chest. The arm covering her eyes had some cuts as well, leading me to believe she was trying to ward off her attacker.
Deputy Bastian lost his cookies on the edge of the ditch, and I have to admit, I almost joined him.
Finding two dead women in a span of two weeks was not fun. Neither was having to stand guard over a crime scene for the second time, waiting for Sheriff Ewing to show up, when all I could think about was getting back to Janey. Only to find, when I finally was able to leave, Janey wasn’t where she was supposed to be.
I was sick to my stomach when I couldn’t immediately find her, and imagined her lifeless body ending up in a ditch somewhere. So I may have overreacted a bit when I finally located her.
Staring into her pale face, I see a mix of anger, fear, and exhaustion swirling in her eyes. She looks at the end of her tether, and I may be partially responsible for that. Repentant, I cup her face in my hand, stroking my thumb over the dark circles under her eyes.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, leaning my forehead against hers. “That was fear talking.”
As her eyes examine mine, they go from hard and cold to shiny and soft.
“You found her…”
I swallow, choosing to nod because I don’t trust my voice right now.
Her arms slip around my waist, pulling me to her. We stand like that, holding on to each other in the shadow of the restrooms for a while, when she suddenly straightens up.
“Oh no…Logan. He’s been waiting for news all day, they made plans for their first date tonight, after the rodeo.”
Shit. Poor kid.
I mean, he just met the girl yesterday, but he clearly liked her. It’ll still be hard news to get.
“That’s gonna be tough for him,” I commiserate.
Janey nods, her expression serious. “Yeah. I should probably go let him know and send him home, before the news reaches him some other way.”
But Sheriff Ewing beat us back to the clinic. As we walk up, I can see him standing close to Logan, resting a hand on his shoulder.
“Doc, I was looking for you,” he says when he catches sight of Janey. He glances from her to me. “I’m guessing you already heard?”
“Yeah,” she confirms, immediately sidling up to Logan, putting a supporting hand on his back.
The kid looks dazed—a bit out of it—like he can’t quite believe what happened. But when Janey makes a suggestion, he turns to look at her.
“Hey, why don’t you head on home? We’re about wrapped up here anyway.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah. Go. I’ll check in with you in the morning, see how you’re feeling. I can always call Frankie to give me a hand here tomorrow, if you need some time.”
Logan shakes his head, his jaw set stubbornly. “I’ll be here in the morning.”
“Are you gonna be okay to drive?” I ask cautiously.
“I’m fine.”
The curt answer is firm, his tone making it clear it’s not up for discussion, but Janey tries anyway.
“We can easily drop you off at home,” she offers.
“I’m good.”
He abruptly takes his leave, probably to avoid further offers of concern. I get it, I was that young too, cocky, and feeling all kinds of invincible in my college years. Even though there’s only ten or so years separating Logan and I, it feels like a lifetime to me.
We watch as he gets in his truck and drives off.
“I’m sorry to have been the bearer of bad news,” the sheriff apologizes, “I didn’t realize the kid knew her.”
“They only met yesterday,” Janey volunteers.
“He mentioned that, but it looked like she made an impact on him. Anyway,” he shifts topics. “I came here to have a look at the horse.”
He glances at the pinto, who looks to be dozing off in the pen next door, her tail occasionally whipping from side to side to keep the flies off.
“Of course, go ahead,” Janey invites him. “Some of her sutures ripped but I redid them. What’s going to happen to her?”
“Not sure. I was wondering if perhaps you had room for her until we sort that out?”
“I do, but I’ll have to pick up the trailer at the clinic.”
She sounds as tired as she looks. I can drop her off at her house, where she’ll be safe and can put her feet up, and I’ll come back here to pick up the horse.
“I’ll do it,” I offer. “Let me get you home first.”
For a second it looks like she wants to object but then thinks better of it.
“Did you need us for anything else?” she directs at Ewing, who shakes his head.
“Not at the moment, I have my hands full, but I’m gonna want to talk to you both at some point. Especially you, JD,” he addresses me.
“Me?”
The hair on my neck stands on end and I instantly feel defensive.
“I never even spoke to the girl.”