Page 54 of Rough Stock
The officers were polite and kind, asking Jensen all kinds of questions. One of the questions he enjoyed answering most was why he was sure Max had something to do with it. As he talked, the officers wrote everything down and somewhere inside his aching chest, he grinned. They were taking him seriously. Maybe things would improve for him and especially for Shyanna, but if they did, that improvement would come at the highest cost he’d ever paid.
They asked permission to take Cobra’s body, and Jensen gladly signed off on the paperwork. The flatbed was commandeered, the body secured with ratcheting tie-downs, and the truck’s taillights disappeared into the darkness, followed by all the police cars. And that wasn’t all they took either.
They took Max.
The next morning, the police were back, and a lot of interesting things happened. They searched both Jensen and Shyanna’s trailers and trucks. They also searched Max’s trailer and truck. When they were finished, they asked Jensen to sit down with them over in the concourse of the arena. “And?”
“Your horse’s heart was fine. He had no heart disease.”
Jensen snorted. “I knew that. What exactly happened to him?”
One of the state police detectives, an OfficerKramer, sat back in his chair and sighed. “Somebody gave him a huge dose of cocaine.”
“Cocaine? Are you kidding me? Somebody gave my horsecocaine?” Jensen almost screamed. It was inconceivable. “And I assume you searched Max’s truck and trailer?”
“And we found nothing.”
“Ofcourseyou found nothing. He’s stupid, but he’s notthatstupid,” Jensen spat. Weren’t cops supposed to have more training than that?
“Does this look familiar to you?” one of them asked and held up a plastic evidence bag. Inside it and empty was a hypodermic syringe.
“Can I see that?” Jensen asked, so the officer handed him the bag. He turned it over and looked it up and down. “Yeah. It’s the syringes we use for things like antibiotics and vitamin injections for the horses. Some people use them for steroid injections, which are illegal as fuck and totally against the rules. Are you saying somebody used this?” he asked, looking at the syringe again.
“Yeah,” Kramer said. “Looks like they loaded it and dropped a little red coloring into it. Why would they do that?”
“To make it look like the B12 shots some of the guys give their horses,” Jensen said, wiping a hand down his face. “But I didn’t give those to my horses. They didn’t need them. I take good care of them, feed them premium food, all that shit. Hell, they eat better than I do,” he added.
“Well, somebody injected your horse with this. They made it look like something common. We found it in a barrel out back, empty and with no fingerprints on it. So, Mr.Strader, did you have insurance on your horse?”
“Insurance? No. Wish I had. Now I’m going to have to buy another horse, something I really can’t afford, especially since it’s going to be harder for me to win my events with only one horse.”
“And why are you so certain Mr.Barlow did it?”
Jensen told them the whole story of the way Max had been treating Shyanna, and then him for being with her. The listened intently and made notes. When he was finished, one of themsaid, “Sounds to me like your girlfriend needs to stay in the ladies’ events.”
“Sounds to me like that’s none of your business and you need to keep your opinions to yourself,” Jensen fired back and watched the detective turn away in embarrassment. “So you found nothing on Max?”
“Nope. We’ve gotta cut him loose. But we won’t be walking away from this case, sir. We’ll stay on it and maybe we’ll find something that will help us. If you find anything, please let us know.”
“Yes, sir. I will. And I’m sorry I popped off at you…” Jensen said, his voice fading away.
“Aww, hell, don’t worry about it. I had a horse when I was in high school and I loved that old nag. I know this is rough on you, so I understand,” Kramer said as he stood to go. “We’ll stay in touch, and you let us know if you see or hear anything.”
Jensen stood and took the hand the officer extended. “Thanks for your help. And thanks for taking this seriously. A lot of officers would’ve just brushed it off.”
“A living creature died. Not only did he die, but he did so in a very public way, and in a way that I’m sure some kids in the audience are having nightmares about. Try to get some rest and stay in touch.” The other officers in the room shook Jensen’s hand as they left, but Kramer turned back. “Oh, and by the way, the body can be released to you. What do you want us to do with it?”
He hadn’t even thought that far ahead. “I’ll rent a flatbed and take care of him. Can I come by and pick him up?”
“Sure. Just give me a call.” When Kramer handed Jensen his business card, he shook the cowboy’s hand again. “Take it easy.” Jensen gave him a polite nod and the older man disappeared down the stairs.
Well, that was that. His horse was dead. He had to find a truck. And he needed to call somebody. As soon as the phone was answered on the other end, Jensen choked out, “Mama?”
“Jensen, honey, what’s wrong?”
“Mama,” he said, fighting back tears, “Cobra’s dead.”
“Oh, honey! What happened?”
