Just Horsing Around

Chapter 14

The next day at the vet’s office was fairly uneventful, luckily. Just the usual – a lab that had eaten a plastic toy who was now on poop-watch to see if he’d manage to get rid of it himself, a puppy needing vaccinations, a sick cat who needed fluids and antibiotics and an old dog who came in for his yearly blood screening.

Thankful for at least one drama-free day, as soon as my phone buzzed, a little bit after five, I closed my eyes and hoped it wasn’t going to be Hawthorne. The last thing I wanted was to drive back out to Wawnee just to hear about how he thought I’d committed probably two murders now. But to my surprise, it wasn’t Hawthorne who texted, it was Ellie Gibson.

Hey, Angela. I’m just wondering if you could come over please? I just… I need someone to talk to, and I don’t know who else to ask.

To be totally honest, I’d kind of been looking forward to a night in with a glass of wine, a bowl of popcorn and an old episode of Orange is the New Black. But at the same time, I felt bad for Ellie, and I’d told her to call me if she ever needed anything. Besides, who knew, maybe she’d tell me something that would help me prove Tony was the killer. Or give him an alibi. Either way, I had no idea what kind of valuable information she might be able to provide.

Sure, I texted. I hitched a ride back with Sophie and Bee, but instead of going into the house I went to my own car and made my way down the now-familiar road to the Gibson Farm.

Ellie opened the front gate for me, and I pulled up to the house. I couldn’t help but notice that despite the huge size of the main house, there were only around three lights on. This was a big house for a girl who lived here by herself. I turned off the car and knocked on the front door.

“Oh Angela. I’m so glad you came. I’m sorry to ask you to come,” Ellie said as she opened the door. Her eyes were red, her makeup was smudged and her cheeks was puffy. This was not a girl who was in a good way.

“It’s ok,” I told her, stepping into the house. Ellie led me into a living room where she’d set herself up on the couch. Given the number of blankets, the pillows and the food, I had a sneaking suspicion that Ellie had spent most of the last twenty four hours on the couch, if not longer.

“Don’t mind the mess. I’m a wreck. Normally I’d talk to Corey about this. But, you know,” Ellie said sadly, and without warning burst into tears.

“Oh, there, there,” I soothed. “It’s alright. I know, it hurts like hell. I can only imagine. You’ve been through something no one should have to go through. But it’s going to be ok.”

I wondered if maybe a walk would help Ellie out.

“Why don’t we go out the back for a bit? Maybe some fresh air will help you feel better, hey?”

Ellie nodded mutely, tears still streaming silently down her face. I felt so bad for the poor girl. I was good with animals. I knew what animals needed, most of the time. Humans were a whole other story. But Ellie was too sweet to just let mope in her misery. She led me to the back door, put some slippers on, and we made our way silently out the back. Since it was June, even though it was now after six, the sun was still out and we could easily see as we walked along the path outside the house together.

“I just, I miss my mom,” Ellie finally managed. I didn’t say anything, I just waited for her to keep talking, I thought it would probably be good for her. “And normally, whenever I had a problem or something, I’d go to Corey. He was always so nice. He was so understanding. And now he’s gone too. I can’t believe I’m never going to see either one of them again.”

She began to cry once more, but this time instead of body-wracking sobs, a few tears just fell from her eyes as she looked at me.

“Have you ever lost someone close to you?”

“My parents both died when I was four. So I guess you could say yes. Luckily, maybe, I was so young that I barely remember them, though, so in another way I feel like I wasn’t close to them at all.”

When I thought about losing Lisa, Sophie’s mom who had raised Charlotte and I as our own, I felt tears threatening to sting my eyes. I imagined losing her would be a lot more painful than losing my own parents had been, as sad as that realization made me feel.

“Does it ever stop? The pain, I mean.”

“It never goes away completely,” I replied slowly. “But it dulls, eventually. You’ll eventually stop feeling like you want to crawl into a hole and die, and you’ll get back to things. You’ll never forget, though. You’ll never forget your mom. You’ll think of her every single day. And Corey too.”

I didn’t know exactly how close Corey and Ellie were when he was killed, so I hesitated slightly to put him on the same level as Ellie’s mom. I’d seen how they had interacted. I knew that Ellie was completely dependent on her mother, regardless of the fact that she was an adult.

“Thanks, Angela,” Ellie told me. She looked like she tried to manage a smile, but failed. “Do you want to go see the horses? I haven’t seen them in a few days, and I hope they’re doing ok. Philippe has been taking care of them, and the vet came back with our other horse today, so he’s been helping.”

“Sure,” I replied. I was always happy to see some animals, and I was glad to go see how Touch of Frost was doing. We walked up to the stable, where Ellie put her hand on the fingerprint pad and typed in the code, and a minute later we were inside.

We walked past two empty stalls to where Touch of Frost was. Once again I marvelled at his beauty; his coat was pure perfection, and he was evidently a horse in prime condition.

“You feeling better today?” I murmured as I held a hand out for him to sniff. He immediately stuck his nose under my hand, inviting me to stroke his face.

“I am, thank you very much,” he replied in a deep, slow voice. Horses had a tendency to be quiet, to be slow, despite their ability to be lightning quick. The way they spoke reminded me a little bit of the Ents in Lord of the Rings. “I appreciate the way you came and cared for me.”

“You’re looking great, I’m glad you’re on the mend,” I told him. With Ellie around, obviously I couldn’t have a real conversation with him.

“He’s a beauty, isn’t he? Thanks for fixing him,” Ellie told me. “Have you met our other horses?”

I shook my head no, and realized that when she was around the animals, Ellie almost seemed to forget her grief for a moment. I thought to myself how good it was that the farm was hers now; she could take care of these animals, and I had a feeling that would make her a very happy woman.

“Well come on down, we have four horses here now!”

I followed and was introduced to three other horses, all of whom were absolutely beautiful. There was a mare, who I was told was going to have Touch of Frost’s offspring next year, and two race horses, each as beautiful as the next. As we left the barn, I said goodbye to Touch of Frost once more, giving him another quick pat and a piece of carrot that Ellie handed to me from a bucket at the end of the stable before we headed off.

“You like him, don’t you?” Ellie asked me.

“Touch of Frost? Yeah, I do. He’s an absolutely gorgeous animal.”

“He is, isn’t he? And he’s the calmest horse, too. Some of the race horses are a little bit twitchy, but Touch of Frost is just perfect. You could put a child on him and trust that he wouldn’t do anything stupid.”

Yes, the way Ellie’s face lit up when she spoke about the horses, she was definitely an animal person more than a people person.

“Have you seen his foal?” Ellie asked me. I shook my head no.

“Oh, he’s adorable! Come here, I have some prints of him that my mom had taken.”

We went back towards the house. While Ellie still had that melancholy look that only recent grief can give, it was also obvious that having someone come over and speak with her for a little bit was helping her get out of her funk. When we got to the house, Ellie went into one of the side rooms. I followed her into what looked like a marketing office’s dream. There were large posters of Touch of Frost and the other horses, covered with sponsorship insignias. Prints with Caroline Gibson’s signature on the front, of various horses, were everywhere.

Before I got a chance to look further, though, Ellie let out a cry of triumph.

“Here they are!” she said, digging out a pile of 5x7 photos. She handed one to me. I looked down at a beautiful chestnut brown mare and an adorable black foal. The foal’s mother was completely brown, from head to toe. She was beautiful, and the foal was the cutest little thing.

“Awwww,” I said, smiling.

“Please, keep the photo,” Ellie told me when I tried handing it back to her. “It’s the least I can do, and we have a few of them. The head of the stables sent them over when Touch of Midnight was born, and I don’t know what to do with them.”

“Thanks,” I told her, tucking the picture into my purse. I liked putting pictures of my patients up on the wall of the vet clinic, and this was close enough. “Would you mind if I took one of these as well?” I asked, motioning to the pile of pictures of Touch of Frost. “For the wall of the vet clinic.”

“Of course! Help yourself! Mom hated it when people did that sort of thing, but…” Ellie’s voice trailed off into nothingness. “Thanks for coming. I’ve already taken up enough of your time.”

“Oh, it’s no problem,” I told Ellie. “Where’s Susan, by the way?”

“Oh, she’s out tonight. I don’t want anyone around here seeing me like this, so I told her to just take the week off. Plus I think mom’s death, and now Corey’s, really affected her. She hasn’t been herself. But then, neither have I.”

She laughed, a hollow laugh that sounded almost manic. “I’m sorry. You go home. Thanks for talking to me, I really appreciate it.”

“You take care of yourself,” I told Ellie as we headed back towards the front of the house. “I know it hurts, but it will get better. I promise.”

Ellie nodded, a single tear streaking its way down her face. “I know. I keep telling myself that. This too shall pass. My mom always used to say that. This too shall pass.”

I gave Ellie a quick hug before heading home, a feeling of melancholy passing over me slightly. I thought of my own parents, the parents I never got to know well enough to really feel at their deaths. After all, to a four year old, what even is death? It’s an abstract concept. I didn’t know what Lisa meant when she said mommy and daddy had gone to heaven. I knew I was sad they weren’t coming back, but that was it. A little bit of sadness. Like when a client moves away and I know I won’t see their pet again. That was the kind of sadness I remembered feeling when I heard mommy and daddy weren’t coming back. I remembered it being more of a slow release, the grief, as I got older and began to understand that they really weren’t ever coming back. But the older I got, the less I remembered them.

I wiped a tear that I didn’t even realize was there off my cheek. I really needed that bottle of wine, now.