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I gathered my daddy in my arms, holding him tightly as his body shuddered against my own. Unspoken communication that no matter what, he wouldn’t lose me. And more importantly, that I was going to be okay.
He patted my back a couple times, and I broke away. “Go to him. And when we get home, I believe I owe that man and his family an apology.”
“I love you, Daddy,” I whispered once more, kissed my mom quickly on the cheek, gathered my suitcase, and ran out into the cold night’s air.
Chapter 26
Cutting the engine to Trixie’s black Tucson, I jumped out of the vehicle in the parking lot back at the clinic. I could see one of Weston’s farm trucks and trailer down at the end of the building. Doc’s truck was also sitting beside the trailer that was open with lines running from the clinic to inside the back. I wondered if Eugene was still inside the trailer, too sick to have left.
Wandering into the front of the clinic, I was met with silence, except for Carly who was sitting at the front desk looking pale. Her eyes shot up and met mine with a fright that quickly left when she saw it was me.
“I thought you were in Billings.” She smiled tiredly at me.
“I was,” I simply replied, not sure how to explain that I was here more for Weston than for what was going on. “Do we have any updates? What are you doing here?” I asked, coming to stand next to the disheveled looking young lady.
She shrugged her shoulders. “They’re running tests on the grain and trying to keep Eugene stable.” She leaned back in the chair, worry etching her beautiful face. “I’m here because Doc called since I closed the clinic after he left, and he thought I might still be awake. They wanted an extra pair of hands to assist, but I was not needed after all.”
“Why not?”
“Well, I met the shockingly handsome Weston Duke. He is definitely not deformed and very capable on his own. I can’t believe I thought he was just a drifter. You know, the one from the feed store?” she replied, pinching the skin between her brows. Then she lifted a brow and grinned wickedly. “But he’s got nothing on Cassidy.
I smiled to myself, ignoring her last sentence. Weston had come to the clinic, not Cassidy. I’d expected to confront him and then head to the ranch, after doing what I could to help here to deliver any news to Weston. It was supposed to have been my excuse to see him. But instead, Weston came to town.
Shock filled my face as I blinked, the information settling in.
“Wait, Weston’s here?” I asked, my eyes sliding towards the door behind her desk.
“Yeah. I thought it was Cassidy when they pulled in,” she grumbled, and I bit my bottom lip lightly.
Weston was here.
Rushing behind the desk, I pushed open the door and let it swing closed behind me. I was met by several muffled voices behind Doc’s office door and nothing else. Knowing I wasn’t invited to whatever meeting they were having, I let my curiosity swallow me and slowly wandered towards the back.
Pushing further into the clinic, towards the large-animal room where all of the lab testing equipment was, I was met with a mess. Eugene was still inside the trailer that was parked halfway into the building. There he lay, breathing heavy but alive, hooked to all different things. Along the back wall sat a pile of soggy grain that I recognized as the same feed I’d seen at the Duke Ranch before.
I walked towards the grain and ran my hands across the small mess. A kernel was underneath a microscope, a couple tubes were running in the centrifuge, containing different swabs of the grain. But no results yet. I leaned up against the counter and bumped my head lightly against the shelf above me in frustration, feeling a little useless.
A logbook crashed onto the floor.
Bending down, I picked it up and looked at the black binder. It was our drug book that kept track of the medication that was in our safe, how much was taken out, plus who was last to check some out. The last date on it was from Doc from yesterday. He most likely hadn’t had time to enter the drugs he was using for Eugene today.
I flipped through the pages, wanting to double check that nothing had been messed up when falling, but it looked fine. Everything was as it should be. Then it hit me, the logbook had been tossed carelessly on the shelf above me, not near the safe as it should’ve been. Taking one last look at the log, I tilted my head in suspicion.
Doc had apparently withdrawn a large quantity of Phenobarbital. The injection medication for euthanasia procedures as well as seizure management. I rushed back to my office with the logbook and turned on my computer. Tapping my fingers against my desk in impatience, I waited for the screen to load the appointment records from yesterday.
Scrolling quickly through the charts, I found not a single euthanasia appointment as well as not a single refill of the medication for any of the patients who were on Phenobarbital regularly. That had to be what was poured in the grain, but that also meant someone at the clinic that had access to the safe was the person at fault. And there was absolutely no way it could be Doc.
Double checking the log, I shook my head. It definitely wasn’t Doc. That wasn’t his handwriting, but it did look familiar.
My heart sank. That narrowed the pool down very quickly and I had a suspicion of who it was. Someone I would’ve never expected.
Leaning back against my chair, I closed my eyes wondering how to proceed. I wanted concrete proof, which meant making sure that the liquid in the grain was actually Phenobarbital before I took my accusation to Doc or Weston.
Running back to the lab, I waited impatiently as the centrifuge slowed down and prepared another vial with a small dose of the drug that I properly logged out of the safe. Praying that it wouldn’t come out with the same composition as the vial I held in my hands, I watched it slowly begin to spin faster and faster as the door crashed open behind me.
I flung around to see Carly standing in the doorway, staring at me with malice in her eyes.
“What are you doing?” she asked, her lips pulled tight because she already knew. And I didn’t need to wait for the centrifuge to finish to know that I was also right.
