Page 53 of Rough Stock
“Why did he have a heart attack?”
She shrugged. “I guess… he was older? And had heart trouble?”
“No,” Jensen said, shaking his head. “I had him checked over every couple of monthsbecausehe was older. If anything had been wrong with his heart, we would’ve known it.”
“Babe, sometimes people have heart attacks when they appear to be…”
That was when it finally hit him. “Shy, something was wrong. Did you notice how fidgety he was in the chute? That wasn’t like him. He was the steadiest horse I’ve ever known. Yeah, he milled around like most of them do, but tonight he was, I don’t know, jumpy? Jittery? Like something was wrong. Like… like… Oh. My. God.”
Eyes wide, Shyanna asked, “What?”
It sickened Jensen to have to say the words. “Somebody drugged him. That’s why he was so jumpy. And when he started running, that was it. His heart couldn’t take it.”
“Oh, babe, you don’t really think?”
“Think? I know. Somebody drugged my horse. Where’s his body?”
“I don’t know. They were removing it from the arena when we left.”
Jensen pounded the dash with his fist. “We’ve got to get back there! If we don’t, they’ll dispose of his body to cover it up, and I can’t let that happen!”
“Then hang on,” Shyanna ordered, and he was shocked at how fast she started the truck and squealed out of the parking lot. He prayed no cops stopped them or they’d be delayed so long that they’d never find Cobra’s body.
There didn’t appear to be a cop anywhere in the whole county, and they made it back to the arena in no time. The night’s events were over and there were a few people milling about when they came tearing into the parking lot. As soon as Jensen’s feet hit the pavement, he ran toward the arena, but a voice stopped him. “Strader!”
Spinning around, he found Stag and Amos standing a distance away. “They took him out back of the barn!” Amos yelled.
“Thanks!” Jensen hadn’t known he could run that fast, and he could hear feet behind him. He hoped it was Shyanna. He rounded the back corner of the barn and couldn’t believe his eyes.
They had a backhoe already working to dig a hole, and Jensen felt a wave of fury pass over him like a cold front in Nebraska. “Hold up one fucking minute!” he screamed as he ran toward them.
“What the hell’s your problem, Strader?” somebody yelled and a man stepped out of the little crowd.
Nobody could’ve stopped Jensen. By the time they got to him, he already had Max on the ground and had gotten in two good punches to the jerkwad’s jaw. Two guys pulled him off and Max jumped up, fist drawn back, before somebody else tackled him and held him. “Does that make you feel better, Strader, you stupid sumbitch?”
“Stupid? I’ll tell you what’s going to make me feel better! Stopping you from covering your tracks! Anybody else takes a step toward that carcass and I’ll take you down!”
That was when he heard it?the click of a gun’s hammer, followed by a calm female voice. “You boys heard the man. Back away.”
Shyanna stood there in the midst of the confusion, a pistol in one hand and a shotgun in the other, and Jensen decided in thatmoment that he’d never loved anybody so much in his whole life. “Babe?” he called to her.
“You and you,” she said, pointing to two of the guys, “use that end loader and put that body up there on the flatbed. You,” she said, pointing to another man, “you call the state police. I want somebody down here to take blood and tissue samples in the next two hours or things are going to start happening, and one of them will be this rodeo getting shut down for the rest of the weekend. Now, nobody wants that to happen. So let’s get on it, got it?” she asked, then turned a wary eye toward Max. “And you,” she said, motioning with the pistol, “you sit your fucking ass down until the cops get here. You’re suspect number one as far as I’m concerned.”
“I didn’t do a goddamn thing, you stupid bitch,” he screamed at her.
She walked straight up to him and pointed the pistol in his face. “It’s not very smart to call a woman with a gun a bitch, especially if that gun is pointed at you. Sit down. You,” she said, pointing to yet another guy, “go get some rope from the barn and tie this jackass up. He can sit here until the cops get here. It ain’t gonna hurt him.” Her voice softened and she said, “Baby, go supervise the backhoe. I don’t want Cobra hurt. He didn’t deserve what happened to him tonight, and we’re going to get to the bottom of it, okay? It’s all under control. Now, listen up, all y’all. If I didn’t give you a job to do, get your fucking asses out of here and stay out. Those of y’all I gave a job to, GET ON IT!” she bellowed, and people started moving. In two minutes, the horse was on the flatbed, Max was secured, and she asked the guy with the phone how long the state police had said it would be before they got there. When they were all finished, she looked around at the little group, then released the hammer on the revolver and shouldered the shotgun. “I’m sorry, guys, but this shit needed to be done and I needed somebody to do it. We good?” They allnodded, and Jensen could tell they were afraid not to. “Go on and get some rest. I appreciate y’all helping us.”
“And me?” Max said, his voice a snarl.
“I still have a gun, asshole,” Shyanna answered. “So shut the fuck up and sit there like you’ve got some goddamn sense, why don’tcha?” He mumbled something. “I said shut. The. Fuck. Up. You’re not the smartest heifer in the herd, are you?” Then she turned to Jensen. “Babe, before the cops get here and there are two dozen people milling around, go say goodbye to Cobra while you’ve still got some privacy.”
That was when it finally sank in?Cobra was gone. His horse, his buddy, his working partner, and his prized possession, was gone. That horse had been to hell and back with him, always there, always steady and ready. He’d never find another mount like Cobra, never. What the hell was he going to do? The tears in his eyes blurred his vision until he nearly stumbled and fell on the way to the flatbed, but when he got there, he leaned in toward the horse’s head and whispered, “I can’t believe you’re gone.” And the tears fell. With a shaking hand pressed against the butterscotch-colored coat he’d brushed so many times, he sobbed like a baby. The thought of waking up the next morning without that dun was… well, it was unthinkable. Maybe when the sun shone again he’d find out it had all been a nightmare. He hoped that was the case.
“Babe?” Shyanna’s voice said from somewhere nearby. “There are two cop cars coming this way with lights flashing. Wipe your eyes and clear your throat before they get here, okay?”
“Thanks,” he whispered, wishing she couldn’t hear the tremor in his voice but knowing she could. “You get those guns out of sight and go take care of Rhubarb and Snowman.”
“Will do. It’ll be okay. I’ll be back as soon as I’m finished with them.” He knew Max was over there, still tied and stillsitting and fuming, and he didn’t give a shit. He was as positive as a man could be that Max was the asshole who’d done that to Cobra.
