Stalking Ground (8 page)

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Authors: Margaret Mizushima

Tags: #FIC022000 Fiction / Mystery & Detective / General

BOOK: Stalking Ground
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Chapter 8

A merciless headwind battled Mattie’s every step as she followed Robo up the mountain. Its icy chill bit at her cheeks. Typically, this type of climb wouldn’t have taken much out of her, but today she was worn out. She struggled up the last few steps toward her goal, the leeward side of a massive boulder, treading carefully on the barely visible path. Rocks, exposed tree roots, and tufts of grass all threatened to turn her ankle. Finally, she reached the boulder, leaned against it, and whispered a thank-you for its shelter.

Robo had forged ahead, so she called to him to come back. “It’s time to rest,” she told him, taking out the GPS tracking unit she’d placed in her utility belt. While she waited for Brody to catch up, she read the data to see how far they’d come. Just under two miles . . . it seemed like twenty.

She spotted Brody, winding his way up the trail not too far below. She guessed he was just about done, the lack of sleep and likely poor nutrition over the past few days taking their toll.

Her watch told her it was half past noon. She shucked off her backpack, took out Robo’s collapsible bowl, and drained some water from her supply into it. He slurped it greedily.

When Brody reached her position, their eyes met for a split second before he looked away. He slipped out of his backpack and sank down into the boulder’s shelter, looking spent. She could tell he felt bad about her kicking his butt on the climb . . . or maybe he just felt bad. She searched and found a couple energy bars, gave one to him, and peeled open the other one for herself.

“I’m not sure I can eat,” he said, taking the bar but not opening it.

“You have to. That’s why you’re struggling. That and the fact that this is the damnedest trail I’ve ever had to climb. And that wind. Shit!”

He threw her a look that was almost grateful, one that she’d never seen from Brody. He must have realized she was trying to encourage him.

“Do you think Adrienne would’ve hiked up here?” she asked.

He shook his head, peeling back the paper on the bar. “Not this time of year. And not alone.”

“This trail might be used by a few hunters, but that’s about all.”

“Yeah.” Brody took a bite, staring out across the tops of pine as he chewed.

Mattie might have enjoyed the spectacular view under other conditions. From their boulder, they could look down on miles of pristine forest wilderness, layers rolling away toward the horizon. The wind blew a dust devil from the patchy trail, and she watched it rise upward like a ghost. She shivered.

“The directions say to leave the trail and head due west about a half mile down from the lake. How the hell can we tell when we’re a half mile down?” Brody said.

“Yeah. That’s a problem. But I’ve been able to plug the total distance into the GPS from state forest department maps. I set it for a half mile down, so I’ll be able to tell when we get there.”

“Shit, Cobb. You’re quite the techie.”

Brody didn’t hand out compliments. “And this unit allows Rainbow and the sheriff to track us.”

“When did you get this stuff?”

“A few weeks ago. Sheriff McCoy authorized it from the K-9 fund.”

“Just in time.”

“Yeah.”

They both finished their bars, and Mattie stood to pull on her backpack. Brody did the same. Although she doubted Robo needed it, she took the scent article from her utility belt to refresh his memory. As they neared the spot where they would leave the trail, she wanted him to remember the reason they’d come up here was to look for Adrienne.

Robo led the way out from the boulder’s shelter, a blast of wind flattening his ears and rippling his fur. Bracing herself, Mattie followed, and Brody brought up the rear. They toiled up the path with Mattie stopping frequently to check the GPS and to allow Brody time to catch his breath.

As they breached another steep rise, Robo came to a sudden stop. He paused with his ears pricked forward, nose up, sniffing the wind. When Mattie drew up beside him, he turned to look into her eyes. He shifted, stood at attention, and looked down into a draw off to the west. She recognized the stance: Full Alert.

Her heart pounded from exertion, but this gave it an extra jolt. She glanced at the GPS and figured they were near the mark. She scanned the draw, realizing it funneled the wind
up to their current position. Brody struggled up the last few steps to reach her side.

“Robo’s got a hit,” she told him, pointing down into the draw. “Wind’s coming from there. We’ll leave the trail now.”

Brody’s brow shot upward and the familiar penetrating look came into his icy blue eyes. Mattie realized she’d missed it the last few days when he’d looked so whipped. He nodded, still puffing to catch his breath.

“I’m going to change Robo’s gear.” She slipped his tracking harness out from a pocket on her utility belt and put it on him, knowing that he would now be in full tracking mode. He’d proven lately that he would match her pace, so she opted not to use the leash.

She looked at Brody, and he nodded. “Let’s go,” she said. And then to Robo: “Search.”

Robo spilled down the steep edge into the draw, sliding part of the way on a small rockslide. Mattie sat and slid on her butt, feet first, digging them in to slow her momentum. Brody followed off to her left, so he wouldn’t cover her with rocky debris. They reached the bottom of the draw a little dirty but none the worse for wear. Robo started uphill, nose up, obviously air scenting.

At the bottom of the draw, the footing became tricky, with deadfall and rocks blocking the way. Robo entered a dry streambed made by spring runoff from snowmelt and continued upward, ears moving forward and back as he checked on Mattie behind him.

Brody seemed fueled by newfound energy, and he stayed close to Mattie, sometimes clearing dead branches or fallen timber to let her pass more easily. It was slow going for humans, and Robo paused frequently to let them catch up. One thing the draw provided was more shelter from the wind, although
Mattie could hear it roaring through the boughs up above. They must be downwind from whatever Robo was scenting.

Steep sides eventually flattened out and opened into a wider space filled with boulders, rocky outcroppings, and pine. Robo picked up speed. Mattie rushed to keep up with him, breaking into a jog. Brody fell behind.

Robo darted toward a large pile of rocks. He pinned his ears as he approached—hunkered and slinked up, poking his nose into a crack in the mound. Mattie hurried toward him as he turned. He made eye contact . . . and he sat. Robo’s signal to indicate a find.

She felt her chest tighten, unable to catch her breath. She could read Robo’s distress in the tightness around his eyes. His two-day search for the missing woman had come to an end.

This must be Adrienne’s grave
.

Typically Robo would be bumping his nose against the pouch that held his tennis ball, signaling it was time to play. But not this time. He uttered a short whine and lay down, looking up at Mattie for reassurance. She’d heard about dogs feeling depressed when long search missions failed to turn up a living person. She knelt beside him to stroke his head, telling him what a good boy he was.

Brody slowed as he approached, obviously reading the situation. Face stony and grim, he circled the grave, going to the opposite side where there was sign that a scavenger had been digging. Mattie stood and walked around to join him.

An appendage—an arm—flesh torn, bone and muscle exposed. “Come away, Brody.”

The pain in his eyes tore at her heart. “I have to see if it’s her.”

“Robo says it is. Come away. This is a crime scene. We’ve got to treat it like one.”

He looked down at the desecrated grave and moved to where she would guess the head was located. He reached for the stones.

“Brody, wait,” Mattie said, taking out her cell phone. She knew she couldn’t stop him. “At least let me get pictures and then we’ll uncover her face. If you need to make sure.”

Brody stepped back while she snapped photos of the site from all directions. He approached when she finished and knelt, gently removing stones and placing them aside. Pine boughs were next, and Mattie photographed those. Blonde hair appeared first and then Brody brushed aside more dirt. He revealed Adrienne’s face, stained deep maroon from lividity, marred and swollen from the beginnings of decomposition, jaw gaped, eyes closed. At least the makeshift grave had protected her eyes from the birds.

“That’s enough,” Mattie said. “We’ve got to get Detective LoSasso and a crime scene unit up here.”

Brody rocked back on his heels, staring at Adrienne’s face. He reached out and placed a hand tenderly on her hair, picking up a strand to hold between his fingers. Robo came and nudged Mattie’s hand. She squatted down and hugged him close. They stayed together like that for a very long time, giving Brody some space, waiting for him to move.

Chapter 9

Tess had Saturdays off, so Cole worked the morning shift by himself. Around eleven o’clock, he was saying good-bye to his last client when he heard the back door slam shut. He recognized the noisy entry as Sophie’s. He peered through the pass-through from the exam room into the office. Both of his daughters, Angela in the lead, came into sight. Angela sat down at the computer while Sophie twirled one of the swivel chairs and jumped into it, trying to catch a spin. As she came around toward him, he waved to catch her eye.

She grinned at him. “Hi, Dad.”

“Hey, squirt. I’m glad you guys came up to help.”

Angela’s expression wasn’t so friendly. “We didn’t have much choice.”

“Oh?”

“Mrs. Gibbs said we needed to go outside for fresh air,” Sophie said, losing her grin. From the looks of it, she’d decided she wasn’t having fun after all.

“We need to talk, Dad,” Angela said.

“I’m done with clients. We can talk now. Come on in here, and we’ll talk while we clean up.”

Sophie leapt from the chair and scooted through the door into the exam room. Spraying and wiping tables happened to
be one of her favorite jobs. Knowing the routine, she grabbed a pair of disposable gloves from the box on the counter and tugged them on. Angela followed more slowly and took a seat.

“What do you want to talk about, Angel?”

“Mrs. Gibbs.”

Uh-oh
. “Okay. We should touch base on how it’s going.”

“I hate her.”

“Now wait a minute. Those are harsh words, Angie. Why are you so mad?”

“She won’t leave me alone. She’s snooping in my business.”

“What do you mean?”

“She’s, like . . .” Angela used a whiny voice unlike Molly Gibbs’s but otherwise mimicking the Irish accent spot on. “What’s botherin’ ye, girl? I won’t have ye hole away up here in yer room while I’m on the job, I won’t.”

“I doubt she used that tone. And Mrs. Gibbs deserves your respect even if you’re mad at her. I want you to remember that.”

“I knew you’d take her side.”

“I’m not taking anyone’s side. Have you been in your room all morning?”

“So now I’m not allowed to be in my room?”

Cole took a moment, put some bottled vaccine back in the refrigerator, hooked a rolling stool with his foot, and brought it up to sit close to Angela. “Sure you can be in your room. But you might need some time outside of your room, too. You’ve come here on Saturdays with me before, and I appreciate your help. Why don’t you work with me next weekend?”

Angela shrugged. “I don’t want her bossing me around.”

“But she’s in charge when I’m gone, Angela. We have a lot to work out, and she’s been here less than a week. You need to be
more respectful. Let’s give it some time and keep those communication channels open.”

Working on the table closest to him, Sophie echoed his last words as he said them, causing him to think he must sound like a broken record. He reached out a hand and ruffled her brown curls. She smiled.

“How are things going for you with Mrs. Gibbs?” he asked her.

She glanced at Angela, and a frown returned to her face. “I don’t like her either.”

He had to wonder if this was Sophie’s true opinion or if she was imitating her older sister. “What is she doing that you don’t like?”

“She made me turn off the TV.”

Cole nodded slowly as if considering her complaint. “Now that’s a serious offense, isn’t it?”

Sophie peered up at him, trying to suppress the twinkle in her eye. When Cole snorted, she laughed along with him. “She’s okay, I guess,” she said.

Angela scowled. “I don’t know what you think is so funny.”

“Angel, we’ve got to keep a sense of humor.” He decided to bring up what he believed to be the true issue. “You know we all miss Mom.”

Sophie sobered and looked down. Cole drew her close with one arm and she leaned against him.

“I don’t miss her,” Angela said.

“You might say that because your feelings are hurt. Mine are too, but I know I miss her. And we’ve got to have someone share in the housework and keep an eye on Sophie. Otherwise that’s going to fall on you, Angie. I thought we decided we didn’t want that. Right?”

She shrugged, avoiding his gaze.

“I know it’s different having someone new in the house. It’s hard to take direction from a new person, but I want her to be in charge when I’m gone.”

“That’s just it, Dad.”

“What?”

“Her being here makes it so easy for you to be gone.”

A pang of guilt hit him. Why did parenting have to be filled with so many moments of guilt?

“We got home from school yesterday, and you were gone. You didn’t get home until late,” Angela said.

“I was helping search for Adrienne.”

“I thought we were all going to help search for Adrienne.”

“You were in school when I got the call, Angel.”

She shrugged, evidently conceding that point.

“Look, if you have a concern, take it up with me,” Cole said. “Don’t fight with Mrs. Gibbs about it.”

“But she’s so nosy, Dad. She’s not my friend, you know. I don’t want to talk to her.”

Her argumentative tone had begun to irritate him. “That’s a poor attitude. She’s trying to be friendly, and all you’re giving back is disrespect. I thought we raised you better than that.”

Angela looked down at the floor, biting her lip.

He tried to rein in his temper. He’d been trying so hard to make a good life for these girls and got little appreciation in return. “Okay, next weekend I’ll get you up to come out to work with me instead of letting you sleep in? Would you like that better?”

Angela shrugged, refusing to look at him. Sophie stood within the circle of his arm, playing some game with her fingers. He doubted if she’d been paying attention. He squeezed her. “What do you think?” he asked her.

“About what?” Sophie asked.

Doubt confirmed. “Come help me here next Saturday.”

“I want to watch cartoons.”

“Well, you can do some of that, too. Let’s have you watch TV for an hour first, then come up here.”

“Okay.”

If only teenagers were as compliant as eight-year-olds
. “I have one more phone call to make and then we’ll go to the house. Angie, I put my paperwork in the box. Do you want to catch things up on the computer?”

She shrugged again but stood up to go back into the office. She loved the computer work and had taken to it like a horse to green pasture. Maybe that would pacify her.

“Thanks for cleaning tables, Sophie,” he said.

“I’m not done yet.”

“Okay. You can finish up while I make this call.” Cole pulled out his cell phone, checked the number in his records, and dialed Carmen Santiago of Dark Horse Stable.

She answered right away, obviously recognizing his number on caller ID. “Hello, Doctor.”

“How’s Diablo today?”

“About the same.”

“I got the lab results back. They aren’t exactly what I expected.”

A pause, and he could hear the concern in her voice when she spoke. “Why is that?”

“He’s hyperglycemic, and his liver enzymes are elevated, which isn’t typical with tying up. On the other hand, the enzymes we measure to detect muscle damage are elevated, which
is
something I’d expect.”

“Okay? What does that mean?”

“I’m not sure yet. Is he eating?”

“A little bit of hay. Not much.”

“Has he defecated?” Cole asked.

“A small amount.”

“That tells us his gut is still working. What’s his heart rate?”

“Eighty-five beats per minute. He’s still sweating but not quite as much.”

Cole thought it over. “Let’s give our treatment plan another day. I should come up tomorrow. I’ll want to run another blood sample.”

“All right. What time?”

“I’ll call in the morning and we’ll decide,” Cole said.

“Late morning will work. Perhaps you can stay for a meal.”

He needed a chance to spend time with his kids tomorrow, and he planned to take them with him. “No, thank you anyway. My kids will be with me, and we won’t be able to stay. I’ll call in the morning around eight to schedule.”

“Children? Are you married?”

He thought the question rather personal. “Divorced.”

“How many children?”

“Two.”

“I love kids. And two more would be fun.”

It was nice of her to welcome his children. “Thanks for the offer, but I’m not sure it will work out. I’ll check with the girls about their plans and get back to you in the morning. Can we decide then about lunch?”

“Sure. I hope you can join me. I would love to spend time with your daughters.”

He ended the call, and Sophie looked up at him from across the room where she’d been busily squirting and wiping the stainless steel exam table over and over. “Who was that?” she asked.

“A lady named Carmen Santiago. She’s got a sick horse.”

“Do you like her?”

“Sure. I don’t know her very well, but she seems nice.”

Sophie tilted her head to the side, studying him.

“Why did you tell her you were divorced?”

What is that old saying about little pitchers and big ears?
“When I told her I had kids, she asked if I was married.”

A sad expression crossed her face as she looked down at the table. “Why did she want to know that?”

Cole wondered about that himself, although he had a notion about it. “Just making conversation, I guess. It’s okay, Sophie. I have to tell people about our family some of the time.”

She nodded, her eyes downcast, as she continued wiping the table.

He crossed the room, pulled her close with one arm, and hugged her briefly to his side. “You’ve done a great job helping me clean. Let’s go home now and see what we can rustle up to eat.”

She tipped up her face, giving him a quivery smile that almost broke his heart. “Mrs. Gibbs is making soup.”

“That sounds good on a cold day. Let’s help Angie finish up so we can go.”

Following Sophie from the room, his mind jumped back to Carmen. She seemed interested in getting to know him better. He supposed someday he might find himself attracted to a woman other than Olivia. If and when that happened, he knew one thing for sure: he had these kids and their needs to consider before he made decisions about adding anyone to their family.

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