Stalking Ground (12 page)

Moving her pen slightly to the right of her first category, Stella wrote
Evidence
and started a new list under the word. “We casted the prints at the crime scene: a partial cowboy boot and horseshoes. There appeared to be nothing unique about them, so they may not be too helpful. We’ll see if
the crime scene unit can give us an estimate on boot size. The cigarette butt Robo found might provide DNA, assuming it was left by the person who buried our victim.”

“We traced the phone call on the tip that sent us up there,” McCoy said. “It was a TracFone, purchased at a Walmart store in Willow Springs last March.”

Willow Springs was one of the larger towns in Timber Creek County and was located about twenty miles beyond Hightower.

Sheriff McCoy continued. “It was paid for with cash, so it was impossible to find out who purchased it. At least we’ve got the phone number. And I’ve got a warrant to determine what tower the call pinged from, so we can determine an approximate location of our caller. Though I’m not sure how much help that will be in these mountains.”

“That’s good, Sheriff. Very good,” Stella said. “What else can I add?”

“Her cell phone is also missing,” Mattie said. “Purple cover.”

“Not missing anymore,” Stella said. “It was in her pants pocket, turned off and smashed. We’ll see if the lab can lift any prints other than the victim’s from it.”

“I’ve initiated a court order for production of records,” McCoy said, “so we can access her cell phone records, texts, and her e-mail account. I put a STAT on it.”

Stella had been recording everything Mattie and the sheriff said. “We can look to see if that TracFone number ever contacted our victim. The autopsy will take place in Byers County at eight o’clock tomorrow morning. I plan to go home tonight and stay for the autopsy, so I won’t be back until later in the morning. We’ll have more to add here after that. Anything else?”

After waiting a few moments but getting no response, she moved her pen to the right to write a new category,
Persons of Interest
. She wrote
Kevin Conrad
, something she’d copied from their first grid. “What do we know about this guy?”

“Ex-boyfriend, high school sweetheart,” Mattie said.

“He lives in California,” McCoy said. “Deputy Brody talked with him first, and I followed up yesterday. Denies knowing where Adrienne lived. He has a tight alibi with his employer who says he was at work this past week. Has a wife and kids.”

“Did they part amicably?”

“He says yes,” McCoy said. “They haven’t been in touch for five years. He says he’s moved on.”

“Any reason to hire a hit?” Stella asked.

“None that I can turn up,” McCoy said.

“Okay,” Stella said. “Let’s add Adrienne’s mother to our list of people to interview.”

“And we’ve got to notify her of the death,” Mattie said.

“I’ve taken care of that already,” McCoy said.

Mattie felt relief that family notification of death wouldn’t fall to her. It was a task that no one embraced, but one the sheriff was good at. “What about the people at the hot springs?”

“I decided it would be best to take care of that in person, when you go out to search,” McCoy said.

It made sense, but Mattie predicted that Anya would be devastated.

“I’ll do it,” Stella said, looking at Mattie. “Be sure to observe how they react.”

“We also need to get a complete list of Adrienne’s current massage therapy clients,” Mattie said.

“Okay, let’s head out to the hot springs now,” Stella said, putting down her marking pen. “We have a good investigation
started here. Nice job on the lead work. Let’s all meet back here tomorrow at eleven so I can brief you on the autopsy. And I do
not
want to include Brody in that meeting, Sheriff, no matter what you find in his report. I’ll talk to him separately to brief him on what he needs to know, and then we’ll decide his level of participation.”

The flinty look in Stella’s gaze told Mattie that the detective meant what she said, and there would be no negotiation.

Mattie drove and Stella rode shotgun on the trip to Valley Vista hot springs. Once they were on the way, Stella leaned back in her seat, and Mattie could feel the detective studying her.

“What?” Mattie asked, giving her a sideways glance while keeping an eye on the road.

Stella gave her a knowing smile. “So you spent the night all alone with the handsome vet.”

Mattie snorted, shaking her head. “Not alone exactly. We had a corpse with us.”

“Well, I guess there was that.”

“Yes, there was that. He patched Robo up, and we stayed up all night guarding the gravesite. Strictly business.”

“Hmm. I see.” Stella looked out her window, pursing her lips.

Mattie let the silence lengthen. After reaching the turnoff, she turned onto the gravel road that led to the hot springs. It ran straight up into the foothills like a flat, gray ribbon. The health resort sat one-third of the way up the mountain, surrounded by a cluster of white yurts. Both she and Stella had been to it once before, when they were investigating Grace’s murder.

She parked beside the bathhouse that had been under construction when she’d first visited, noticing that it now appeared
to be finished. They left the vehicle and followed the pathway that led to the office. The flaps at the entryway, which had been open last summer, were now closed tightly against the autumn chill. Mattie couldn’t imagine going through a Timber Creek winter with canvas walls. Standing outside the secured doorway, she gave Stella a questioning look, which the detective answered with a shrug. Mattie rapped lightly on one of the yurt’s wooden supports.

Anya Yamamoto opened the flap and gestured for them to come inside. Dean Hornsby sat at his desk, working on his computer, its light reflecting off the lenses of his glasses. He stood, slightly stooped, a look of surprise crossing his face. On the other hand, Anya’s emotions remained hidden behind her typical, inscrutable expression.

“Detective, Miss Cobb,” Hornsby said, looking at each of them in turn, “to what do we owe the pleasure?”

It irritated Mattie that Hornsby refused to address her by her title. She’d corrected him before, but this time she let it go.

“It’s about Adrienne,” Anya said, her dark eyes riveted on Mattie.

Mattie nodded, meeting her gaze.

“We’re here in an official capacity,” Stella said. “I regret to have to tell you this, but Adrienne Howard has been found dead.”

Pain registered on Anya’s face before she turned it downward to stare at her clasped hands.

Hornsby looked stunned. “That can’t be.”

“I’m sorry,” Stella said. She waited a few beats while Hornsby looked helplessly about the room.

Anya raised her eyes to look at Stella. “What happened to her?”

“Her death is under investigation as a homicide,” Stella said.

Anya’s lips parted as her breath caught. “Someone killed her?”

“Yes.”

“Where did you find her?” Anya asked.

“In the mountains. We’re not releasing the exact location,” Stella said. “I understand you reported Adrienne missing on Thursday. Do either of you have a theory as to where she might have gone when she left here?”

“I have no idea,” Hornsby said.

“I thought she went hiking, but I didn’t know where,” Anya said, her face starting to show the strain of trying to control her emotions. A tear slipped down her cheek, and she swiped it with a finger. “She goes hiking alone quite often.”

“Do you know of anyone who might do Adrienne harm?” Stella asked.

Both denied that kind of knowledge.

“That’s an important question, and I want you both to take your time thinking about it. You can call me if you come up with ideas,” Stella said. “Right now, we need to take a look at Adrienne’s employment records, her living quarters, and where she works.”

“I can’t show you employment records,” Hornsby said.

Stella took out the warrant she carried in her case. “Yes, you can, Mr. Hornsby. This is a homicide investigation, and I can show you our search warrant.”

He shook his head. “I mean, I don’t keep employment records.”

“A résumé? An application form?”

Hornsby shrugged, casting a sidelong glance at Anya. “We don’t bother with those things. It’s hard to attract good therapists to Timber Creek. If one can show her credentials, and if Anya observes a good aura, we hire. Such was the case with Adrienne.”

Stella raised a brow. “I see. That’s uh . . . rather unorthodox. Do you have any knowledge of Adrienne’s past work history or where she lived?”

“She came from Willow Springs,” Anya said.

“When did she move here?”

“The end of April, soon after the rest of us.”

“Where did she work in Willow Springs?” Mattie asked.

“She worked for a chiropractor.” Anya paused to think. “I don’t recall her ever mentioning his name.”

“Do you know where she worked and lived before Willow Springs?” Mattie asked.

“No, Adrienne didn’t like to talk about her past.”

Mattie found it hard to believe how little Adrienne’s employer and friend seemed to know about her, but then Brody was no better.

“Could you show us Adrienne’s living quarters, Ms. Yamamoto?” Stella asked.

“We share a yurt. You’re welcome to search the entire room,” Anya said, turning to get her coat.

Stella handed a business card to Hornsby. “I’ll probably call you again, Mr. Hornsby. But in the meantime, if you think of anything that might help our investigation, please call.”

Hornsby nodded, taking the card and looking at it.

Mattie and Stella followed Anya down a pathway between the white canvas buildings. Mattie had seen Anya’s treatment area and a guest yurt during her last visit to the spa. They were utilitarian structures, sparsely furnished, and she thought it more likely that leads would be found in the victim’s sleeping space rather than her work space.

Anya remained silent while their footsteps crunched along the gravel pathway.

Stella quickened her step to walk beside Anya while Mattie followed. “Were you and Ms. Howard close?”

Anya hunched forward, hands in her coat pockets. “I would say yes.”

“Do you know anything about her love life?”

Anya glanced at the detective before continuing to walk with downcast head. “Adrienne was a woman in love who loved her career. She didn’t have any enemies that I know of. She had a kind and gentle soul.”

“In love with . . . ?”

“Deputy Brody of course. I think you already know that.”

Stella nodded, giving the woman a slight smile. Mattie knew what she was after.

“Did she and Deputy Brody seem to be getting along okay?” Stella asked.

“Yes. Their feelings were mutual.”

“Could they have had an argument?”

“Not to my knowledge, at least not as of Tuesday night. It would have had to occur Wednesday, and she was with clients all morning.”

They came to the doorway of a small yurt. Anya entered, flipping on an overhead electrical bulb to compensate for the lack of natural light through windows. The space was clean and neat with a wooden floor and canvas roof and walls. Twin beds sat across the room from each other covered with maroon comforters. Matching small chests of drawers acted as bedside tables, and a large wardrobe filled the center of the back wall. A space heater glowed, taking the chill off the room.

“That is Adrienne’s side of the room,” Anya said, gesturing. “But you’re welcome to search my space, too, though I’m aware of nothing I have that could be of help.”

“Thank you,” Stella said. “We’ll take a look at both.”

Mattie pulled a pair of latex gloves from a pocket on her belt and tugged them on while crossing the room. She inspected the items on top of the small chest. A stack of books sat by a reading light, and she sifted through them, revealing titles on massage therapy techniques for horses as well as humans.

One book stood out as different from the others.
Moving On: Recovery from Childhood Abuse
. Maybe this helped explain Adrienne’s estrangement from her mother. Mattie held the book out to show the title.

“For Adrienne or for a client?” Mattie asked Anya while Stella turned from her search to read the title.

“I cannot say.”

“Don’t know? Or won’t say?” Stella asked.

Anya remained silent.

“We’re not asking out of idle curiosity. If Adrienne has a history of childhood abuse, that’s something we should follow up,” Mattie said.

Anya looked down at the floor for a moment and then up at Mattie. “I am her therapist and healer. There is not much I can say.”

But her words spoke volumes. “I think we’d better follow up.”

“Yes.”

“I can get a warrant for her medical records,” Stella said.

“There is no written record.”

Stella shot a disbelieving glance at Mattie before looking back at Anya. “No record?”

“I’m a body worker. I use many modalities, assessing what the body needs each time I provide a treatment. I didn’t ask for payment from Adrienne, and I didn’t conduct a form of talk therapy in the traditional sense. There was no need to document our sessions.”

“Anya,” Mattie said. “It’s important we find leads so we can track down the person who killed your friend. You won’t be betraying her confidence by answering our questions.”

Anya stared at Mattie, her eyes reddened with unshed tears. She nodded in silent agreement.

“Can you confirm that Adrienne was abused as a child?” Mattie asked.

“Yes.”

“Was she at a point in her treatment where she might have pressed charges against her abuser?” Stella asked.

“If she was considering it, she didn’t tell me.”

“What do you know about her abuser?”

“Nothing specific. I believe it was parental.”

That struck a chord that resonated with Mattie’s own past. “Father? Mother?”

“Perhaps both.” Anya paused, her face drawn with sadness. “Adrienne shed her grief over her past in tears during our treatments and seemed to be gaining a new level of happiness. She said she felt better about it now than she’d felt her entire adult life.”

Mattie nodded, looking downward to search drawers that contained nothing but clothing while Stella searched the wardrobe.

Anya brushed her hand across an empty space on top of the chest. “There’s something missing right here.”

“What’s that?” Mattie asked.

“Her laptop.” Anya pointed to a power cord left plugged into the wall, as if its loose end proved the laptop’s absence. “It has a zebra-striped cover. It’s gone, and I haven’t been able to find it.”

“Would she have taken it with her on Wednesday?”

“I’ve wondered about that. She keeps her own treatment records in it, and she takes it with her when she goes to do
massage for horses.” Anya looked troubled. “But I thought she went on a hike.”

Mattie looked across the room and met Stella’s gaze.

“Why did you think she went on a hike?” Stella asked.

“It’s what she usually does on her afternoons off.”

“Who keeps her horse appointment schedule?”

“She does.”

“Do you know where her schedule might be?”

Anya’s frown deepened. “On her laptop.”

“Did you look for it in these drawers?” Mattie asked, resuming her search.

“Yes. At first, I glanced into the bottom drawer to see if she’d taken her purse. When I saw it was still there, I decided to call the sheriff.”

Mattie opened the bottom drawer and found many things, none of which resembled a computer. It seemed to contain a veritable treasure trove: small rocks and crystals, a vial of something, a stack of brochures, a purse, a stack of opened envelopes addressed to Adrienne Howard, a small pair of ankle weights, a photo album.

Mattie picked up the vial and showed it to Anya. “Do you know what this is?”

Anya opened the vial, sniffed. “Peace and Harmony, an essential oil.”

She held it out for Mattie to smell. The scent contained a combination of citrus and patchouli. It made her nose twitch, and she suppressed a sneeze. A peaceful response to that odor might depend on the individual.

Mattie opened the purse and poured its contents on Adrienne’s bed. It contained the usual items carried by women: hairbrush, sunglasses, makeup bag, checkbook, and wallet. She looked through the wallet, but there was nothing inside
other than a small amount of cash, a credit card, and a driver’s license. The makeup bag contained only the basics: mascara and several types of lip gloss.

Sorting through the brochures, she saw that most of them advertised massage therapy conferences, including one for horses, all sometime in the future. There were also a few travel brochures on Alaskan cruises and Yellowstone. These seemed to be consistent with what she already knew about the victim.

Stella picked up the photo album and started leafing through it. “Do you know any of these people in the pictures, Ms. Yamamoto?”

“You may call me Anya.” She moved near Stella to peer at the photographs. “I don’t know any of these people. The pictures look like they were taken some time ago. Before Adrienne moved here.”

Stella tapped a salmon-colored nail on a page near the end of the album. “What about this one?”

Mattie leaned near to look. It showed Adrienne and a good-looking man posed against a pine-forest background, their arms wrapped around each other, both smiling. The man had brown hair so dark it was nearly black, eyes the color of chocolate, and skin several shades darker than Adrienne’s. His skin tone and coloring reminded Mattie of her own, and she wondered if he was of Hispanic descent.

“I don’t know that man,” Anya said.

“Did Adrienne ever mention someone who might have fit this description?”

“Not that I recall.”

Mattie took the stack of opened envelopes out of the drawer and started looking through them. “We’ll need to take these with us. They’re probably from people we’ll need to contact.”

Most were greeting cards, postmarked around the same date in September. Birthday cards. There was also one from Brody, and she tried to ignore the mushy words, focusing instead on the intent of the message. He seemed to be truly in love with Adrienne, and it saddened her.