to those observed in humans—agitation, muscle rigidity, hyperreflexia, tachycardia …”
“Things that would make a horse bolt.”
“Things that would make a horse bolt.” She put the folder down and let her glasses fall onto her bosom. “Mr. Ed notwithstanding, nobody I know has ever heard of a talking horse.” She thought a moment. “Nobody who’s actually lucid, that is. Once I knew a fellah who claimed to be married to his horse … that’s another story. Since we regulars can’t communicate with our equine friends, it’s hard to know exactly what had transpired. But I’d be willing to bet that your suicidal palomino was seeing things that weren’t there. Poor thing was probably flying while he was bolting.”
Decker made a few chicken scratches on paper. “Let me ask you this. How long would it take for the drug to take effect?”
“That’s an ‘it depends’ question. How much is given, the body weight of the horse, the stomach contents, any other potentiating drug in the bloodstream—I didn’t find anything else out of the ordinary. It also depends if the drug is given intravenously, intramuscularly, or orally. Most of the time, it isn’t given orally, but if someone was out to sabotage, it’s conceivable that they could have mixed the powder into the horse’s feed. That being the case, it might take anywhere from fifteen minutes to an hour for the drug to take effect.”
Fifteen minutes to an hour, Decker thought. From ten to eleven, Mike Ness was doing aerobics. Where was Jeffers?
“That’s a long-winded answer to a straightforward question.” Vera played with her glasses. “I hope it helps you out.”
“It sure does. Thanks a lot, Vera.” Decker tapped his pencil against his pad. “PCP. Person could pick up Dust anywhere.”
“Anywhere and everywhere. You’d be stunned at how many dogs and cats come in here freakin’ out because they took their owner’s dope.” Vera looked at him. “Are you on to something?”
“Just thinking.” Decker folded his notebook. “Even though PCP is everywhere … for a person to administer it IM to a horse … that person would have to be someone at ease with large animals. Most greeners find horses pretty intimidating because of their size.”
“That’s true. Horses are dumb but they are strong … and obstinate if you don’t know how to handle them.”
Decker folded his pad and nodded, thinking horses could get real obstinate. Took a firm, experienced hand to give them an injection.
An experienced hand … like Carl Totes.
16
Black coffee and corned beef with mustard on rye. Decker stared at the sandwich, enjoying the feel of his mouth watering. Leaning back in his desk chair, he took a bite, chewing with near-orgasmic pleasure. His spine and neck were sore from this morning’s ordeal, his arms sunburned from exposure. But he was able to forget everything as soon as his teeth sank into the bread.
Treasure the simple things.
He took another bite and saw Marge enter the squad room, her hands shuffling little pink message slips. He whistled, she looked up, and he motioned her over. She pulled up a chair and Decker noticed his partner’s longing eyes. He handed her the other half of his sandwich.
“Are you sure?” Marge said.
“My mother raised me with manners.”
Marge bit into the bread before he could change his mind. “You know what I need?”
“You’re talking with your mouth full, Detective Dunn.”
“I need a wife.”
“I’ll tell Rina to make extra next time.”
“I don’t understand why her sandwiches are consistently better than mine. Why do I have such an adversarial relationship with food?”
“Lie on ze couch und vee can discuss it.” Decker sipped coffee. “How’s Lilah?”
“She was still freaked out. Can’t say I blame her.”
“Are you okay?”
“All in a day’s work, Margie.”
“I’ve seen mounted police,” Marge said. “You’re the first mounted detective so far as I know.”
“That’s me—a real trendsetter.” Decker finished his coffee. “The whole thing happened … what? Six hours ago?” He shook his head. “Surreal. Anyway, did Lilah tell you anything?”
Marge said, “I couldn’t get much out of her with Freddy staring over my shoulder. And when she did speak, her voice had that eerie calm that victims often have. Disbelief. She also kept asking where you were, Pete.” She licked her fingers. “She wanted to know if you were all right. Do you have a tissue or a napkin? I got mustard on my hands.”
Decker opened his desk, took out a short-order arrest form and handed it to her. “Did you tell her I was fine?”
Marge wiped her fingers on the stiff paper. “Sure. But it was more than just a query. She wanted you. She tolerated my presence but wasn’t happy about it. And then when I started asking her nuts-and-bolts questions, she spaced out.”
“Maybe Freddy had her sedated.”
Marge shook her head. “I asked Freddy if he’d given her anything. The doctor became offended. Freddy doesn’t believe in sedatives, tranquilizers, muscle relaxants, or anything else that artificially knocks out the body and/or mind. When I left, he was preparing a ginseng and gingerroot bath to soothe Lilah’s nerves. Then they were going to meditate.” Marge brushed hair away from her eyes. “Sounds rather peaceful, actually.”
“Did Lilah have any idea who might have tampered with the horse?”
“Only that if we found the men who stole her father’s memoirs, we’d find the demons who were plaguing her. Why are those damn memoirs so important to her?”
“It’s her father’s legacy to her. She’s placed inordinate importance on them, conveniently forgetting that there was also a million dollars of ice stowed in the safe.”
“But it does look like someone’s out to get her.”
Decker sipped coffee. “Maybe not get her, only scare her.”
“For what reason?”
“So she won’t testify against him—or them.”
“She knows who did it?”
“I said from the start this looks like an inside job.”
“An inside mill jewel heist with a rape to boot,” Marge said. “Stringers are gonna love it. The good captain, however, won’t be too pleased.”
“I’m hoping to solve the damn thing before it gets into the blotters. Look how far we’ve come in two days.”
“How
