Small appliances—toaster, mixer, and coffeepot—sat at the back of the counters, as did various medical items such as stacked cans of a liquid nutritional supplement, a wrist brace, utensils with built-up handles, and rolls of stretchy Ace bandages.
Lillian turned to face Stella, and with the bright overhead kitchen light, Mattie could see that the darkened skin beneath her eyes sagged. In fact, the downward tilt to the lines around her mouth and eyes represented a weariness that didn’t happen overnight. She remembered what Cole had said about Doyle Redman’s recent stroke.
“Mrs. Redman, does your daughter Kasey live here with you?” Stella asked.
A frown of concern etched her brow. “She lives here on the ranch, but not in this house. Why? What is it?”
“Could you call her and have her come meet us here?”
“You’re scaring me, Detective … Was it LoSasso?”
“Yes, ma’am. We do have bad news.”
Alarm consumed Lillian’s face. “Is this about my son Tyler? He’s not hurt, is he?”
“No, ma’am. Tyler is fine as far as we know.” Stella threw a troubled look at Mattie. “This is rather unorthodox. Typically I’d speak with your daughter first, but I don’t mean to make things worse for you. This is about your son-in-law.”
“Nate? Has he been hurt? A car wreck?”
“I’m sorry, but he’s been found dead.”
Lillian’s eyes darted to Mattie and then back to Stella. “Dead? That can’t be.”
Stella held the woman’s gaze. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
Mattie spoke up. “My sympathies, Mrs. Redman. Would it be easier on Kasey if we spoke to her here at your house, or would it be better to go over to hers?”
Shock still registering on her features, Lillian gave Mattie a sharp look. “It’s not going to be easier on her either way.”
Mattie nodded, feeling chastened. “You’re right. But we’d like to do what’s best for Kasey.”
Lillian pressed trembling fingers against her cheek. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t lash out at you. Should I wait until morning to tell her?”
“It’s best for us to notify her as soon as possible,” Stella said.
A crash in the next room startled Mattie. She whirled to face the doorway, placing her hand on her Glock.
“No, no, no, no, no!” A man’s voice, deep and rough, followed by a few expletives, came from the other room.
Lillian was already hurrying through the doorway. “Oh, Doyle!”
Mattie followed at her heels. A tall man dressed in pajamas stood behind a small metal folding table that lay on the floor, dirty dishes spread out on the carpet in front of it. With his left arm, he was reaching for a cane that leaned against a chair at his back.
Lillian rushed forward to retrieve his cane for him. “You need to call me to help you get up from your chair, dear heart.”
Mattie knelt to gather the dishes while glancing up to observe the man whom she assumed to be Doyle Redman. He took the cane with his left hand, his right arm hanging by his side, the hand slightly curled. She recalled Cole saying that Mr. Redman had lost the use of his speech and his arm.
Lillian took the dishes from Mattie, thanking her and moving off with them toward the kitchen. “I’ll put these in the sink and come right back.”
Mattie picked up the metal tray and sat it on its feet, while Doyle Redman stared at her with gray-blue eyes that were startling in their fierceness. He was a large man, big-boned but gaunt, perhaps from his illness. She held his gaze for a beat until Lillian reentered the room and he turned his eyes toward his wife.
“This is my husband, Doyle. Doyle, this is Mattie Cobb and Detective LoSasso.” Lillian’s eyes were reddened, her features tense and strained, holding it together as she completed what probably felt like a bizarre social ritual, given the circumstances of having just learned of her son-in-law’s death. “Doyle had a stroke that left him with expressive aphasia. He can’t say what he wants to, but he understands everything. You can speak to him like you would anyone.”
Mattie met Doyle’s gaze again. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Redman.”
He rested his cane against his leg to free up his hand and then poked his forefinger at her. “You …” He leaned back and beat the air with his finger as if thinking. Then he twiddled two fingers in a walking gesture, moving them through the air.
She thought she knew what he meant. “I run?”
He nodded, the left side of his mouth tipping upward in a half smile.
“Yes sir, I used to run track when I was in high school.”
He waved his forefinger close to his temple, as if to say he remembered.
“That’s why you look familiar,” Lillian said. “We used to watch you.”
“I remember Kasey from school, but I don’t remember your son.”
“Tyler. He’s two years younger than Kasey.” Lillian’s eyes filled, and she looked down at the floor. “I suppose I should call her now.”
“Yes, please do that, Mrs. Redman.” Though Stella’s features remained bland, Mattie could tell from her abrupt movement that the detective was getting antsy to move on to the reason they were here.
“Doyle, please sit back down, sweetheart.” Lillian pressed him into the recliner behind him. “I’ll just step into the kitchen to use the phone and be right back.”
Stella followed Lillian into the kitchen, leaving Mattie alone with Doyle. She stood awkwardly in front of him for a few seconds while he examined her with those gray-blue eyes that were almost iridescent in their intensity.
She cleared her throat, breaking eye contact to look around the room until her gaze lit on an armchair upholstered in navy velour fabric. “Is it all right if I sit?”
He waved his hand in the chair’s direction.
Once seated, Mattie didn’t know what to say. What conversation could she strike up with a man, speechless from the effects of a stroke, whose son-in-law had just been shot and killed? Her mind drew a blank.
She arranged her features into her neutral cop’s face as she settled in to wait, but movement on the far side of the room caught her eye. A young woman paused at the entry from a hallway. When she spotted Mattie, she looked startled, her sleepy gray-blue eyes—so much like Doyle’s—opening wide. Tall and slender, she was dressed in a blue cotton tee and silk boxer shorts that looked like pajamas, her short blond hair tousled as if she’d risen from bed.
“What happened, Dad?” she said. “I heard a crash.”
Doyle waved his hand in dismissal and then beckoned for her to come, patting the arm of his chair in an invitation to sit.
Mattie gestured toward the tray. “The tray fell over. That’s what you heard.”
The young woman—Mattie would guess in her late teens or early twenties—approached her father and stood by his chair, her brow furrowed with concern as she looked at Mattie. “What’s up?”
Mattie introduced herself. “And you are?”
“I’m Eve. Why are you here in the middle of the night?”
Lillian and Stella reentered the room. “Oh, Eve, you’re awake,” Lillian said before turning to Stella. “Eve is our youngest. She’s home from college for the summer.”
Eve directed her concern toward her mother. “What’s going on, Mom?”
Lillian looked like she might be yielding to the stress. A tear slipped down her cheek as she took a seat on the sofa. “They’ve brought bad news, dear. Here, come sit.”
Looking apprehensive, Eve settled onto the arm of her father’s chair. “What news?”
“It’s Nate, dear. He’s …” Looking confused, Lillian turned toward Stella. “I don’t know the details, but the detective said he’s been found dead.”
With her duty to observe family members in mind as they were each notified, Mattie thought the surprise that registered on both Doyle and Eve’s faces appeared genuine. Eve lifted her hand to her throat. “How?”
“Let’s wait until Kasey gets here,” Stell
a said. “Then I can tell you all at once.”
Sorrowful, Lillian looked at Mattie. “Kasey was here helping me until about an hour before you arrived. She said she’d just fallen asleep, but it will take her only a few minutes to get here.”
“How long had Kasey been with you this evening?” Stella asked.
“She helps me most afternoons. She usually comes around five to help with dinner and stays as long as I need her. Tonight Doyle has been particularly restless, so she didn’t get away until late.”
It appeared that Stella had just obtained an alibi for the victim’s wife.
“She was with you since five o’clock today?” Stella evidently wanted clear confirmation that the typical schedule applied to today as well.
“She was.”
The screen door on the porch slammed, then the door into the kitchen. Lillian rose from her chair, crossing the room to meet her daughter. When Kasey appeared at the living room threshold, Mattie remembered her flowing mass of red hair from their youth. But the lines of fatigue on her face and dark circles under her green eyes, much like her mother’s, were new. And the carefree expression of her youth had been replaced by one filled with concern.
“What’s going on, Mom?” Kasey’s eyes went to her father as she took her mother’s outstretched hand. “You okay, Dad?”
“No, no.” He waved his left hand, shaking his head.
Kasey studied him hard, then turned her gaze on Mattie. “I know you.”
“I’m Mattie Cobb from the Sheriff’s Department, Kasey. We went to school together.”
Mattie introduced her to Stella, but even as Kasey shook hands with the detective, her eyes went back to Mattie. “What’s this about? Something’s happened, hasn’t it?”
Stella nodded at Mattie, her signal that she was relinquishing the lead. Probably best, since Kasey evidently remembered their connection.
There was no way to soft-pedal a death notification. “I’m sorry, but we do have bad news. Earlier tonight, your husband was found dead. I’m so very sorry for your loss.”
Kasey’s eyes registered shock, while her hands flew to cover her mouth. Her mother released a pent-up sob as she placed her arm around her daughter’s shoulders. Kasey spoke through parted fingers. “Dead? He’s out of town this weekend. What happened?”
Unsure how much information the detective wanted to share with the family at this point, Mattie glanced at Stella.
“This is a tough thing to have to tell a family,” Stella said slowly. “Nate was shot. The medical examiner will have to confirm, but it appeared that his wounds were immediately fatal.”
“Shot?” Kasey’s response came out in a shriek. “No. That can’t be.”
Her face ashen, Kasey’s knees buckled, and Mattie jumped to help Lillian settle her onto the sofa. Lillian sank down beside Kasey, taking her into her arms while Eve rushed to her sister and knelt in front. Mattie stepped back to allow the women some space.
Glancing away from the threesome, Mattie’s eyes met Doyle’s for a brief moment. His lids were reddened, and he swiped at the tears that threatened to brim. Stretching his good hand out toward Kasey, he shook his head.
“Damn,” he muttered.
And Mattie had to agree.
FIVE
Mattie and Stella sat and waited while the three women sobbed in each other’s arms, their initial shock giving way to grief. After several long minutes, the sound of weeping subsided and Stella spoke. “Kasey, I don’t want to press you while your emotions are raw, but it would help our investigation if you could answer a few questions. Do you feel like you could do that now?”
Lillian tried to reach for a box of tissues that was just outside her grasp. Mattie jumped to retrieve it and handed it to her. As Lillian took the box, their gaze met, and Mattie read an endless depth of sorrow in the woman’s red-rimmed eyes. She could understand why. Even though not connected by blood, Lillian’s son-in-law must have meant a lot to her. And certainly she would share in her daughter’s grief.
Kasey took the tissue that her mother gave her, then used it to wipe the tears from her cheeks and dab at her eyes. She appeared to be fighting to contain her sobs, though tears continued to flow. “I want to help. What happened? You said he was shot?”
“Yes. We found him outside Timber Creek in a white panel van. The van has been burned.”
“That can’t be.”
Stella nodded affirmation. “You thought he was out of town?”
“I thought he was in Sidney.”
“Sidney, Nebraska?”
Kasey nodded, looking stunned.
Mattie wondered why Nate Fletcher wasn’t where he was supposed to be. If his plans changed, why hadn’t he notified his wife? She probed gently. “Were you expecting him home tonight?”
“No. Not till tomorrow.”
“Why do you think his plans changed?”
Kasey shook her head. “I don’t know.”
“Why did he go to Sidney?” Stella asked.
“To pick up supplies at Cabela’s. Nate’s an outfitter, you know.”
“Tell me about that,” Stella said. “I’m not familiar with the term.”
Kasey was staring off in the distance as if lost, so Eve answered while she rubbed her sister’s shoulder in a repetitive circular motion. “Nate organizes hunts, trail rides, and camping trips for tourists. He provides horses, pack saddles, and all of the equipment for overnight stays in the mountains.”
“Where is his territory?” Mattie asked, wondering how far the business ranged from Timber Creek.
“We have about ten thousand acres here on the ranch in addition to private-access BLM land up into the mountains.”
“Huh!” Doyle said. Mattie thought she could interpret a look of pride on his face as he and his youngest met each other’s gaze.
“So he uses your land exclusively?” Mattie asked.
Lillian placed her arm around Kasey’s shoulders again. “And stables his horses here. Has for about three years now, right, honey?”
“That’s right, Mom,” Kasey answered vaguely as she bent to hug her knees, eyes focused on the floor in the middle of the room.
Mattie wanted enough information so that she could do the research later. “What’s the name of his company?”
“Mustang Outfitters.”
“How does he get his customers?”
“Word of mouth and his website, for the most part.”
Which means that anyone could come from anywhere, Mattie thought.
Stella leaned forward. “Can you think of anyone who might have wanted to hurt Nate?”
Lillian looked startled. “Absolutely not. Everyone loves Nate. He’s always the life of the party. People flock to him.”
Stella prodded. “Kasey, how about you? Anyone who might have been angry with your husband? Someone he might have argued with?”
Once again, Kasey’s eyes brimmed, and a tear rolled down her cheek. “He got along with everyone.”
“What about his company? Any employees?”
“Flint. He helps out during hunting season.”
“Flint?”
“Flint Thornton. He lives up the creek.”
Mattie knew the name. “Oxbow Ranch?”
Kasey swiped tears from her face with the tissue. “That’s the one. But Flint would never hurt my husband.”
Flint Thornton had attended high school in Timber Creek and must be in his early twenties by now. He might not be violent, but off the record, Mattie knew he’d been charged a few times as a juvenile. Underage drinking, possession of marijuana—teenage crimes, but his parents had taken them seriously and put the smack down. As far as she knew, he’d never been charged as an adult.
Kasey looked at Stella. “Where is Nate now?”
“He’s been taken to Byers County for the medical examiner. It’s standard procedure for suspicious deaths. The ME will confirm cause of death and estimate time. He’ll also give us information on anything else he might be able
to discover.”
Kasey frowned. “Does that mean they’ll cut him? Run all kinds of tests?”
“Lab tests are typically standard. The examination involves incisions, but they’ll be as noninvasive as possible.”
Mattie cringed inside at Stella’s stretching of the truth; Nate’s entire chest would be opened up and probed.
Stella continued. “Once Nate is dressed, you won’t be able to see the incisions.”
Lillian straightened, concern creasing her face. “Wait a minute. How do you know this person is Nate? Are you sure it’s him?”
“Leslie Hartman and Cole Walker identified him. And there was a wallet and driver’s license in his pocket.” Stella’s tone was laced with sympathy. “We’ll need a family member to go as soon as possible to confirm identity.”
Lillian slumped in defeat. Kasey leaned her head against her mother’s shoulder and patted her knee. “Oh, Mom,” she moaned, as if in sympathy that her mother had tried to fix things for her but failed.
Stella cleared her throat quietly. “Getting back to the panel van, Kasey. Is that your vehicle?”
“It is. That’s what he took to Sidney. You said it was burned?”
“Yes.”
Kasey shook her head. “I can’t imagine that. Why?”
“That’s what we’re going to find out,” Stella said. “Just a couple more questions, Kasey. Where do you work?”
“Here on the ranch.”
“I see. And I understand that you help your mom here at the house some evenings.”
Kasey directed a sad look toward her dad. “I eat dinner with my folks and stay here until we’re ready for bed every evening. Dad and I like to watch TV together, right, Dad?”
Mattie found it heartwarming to see how the Redman women tried to include the family patriarch in the conversation. They must love him very much to be so dedicated. Was there hope in her life to achieve a lasting kind of love like that?
“So were you here tonight?” Stella asked.
Lillian continued to hug her daughter close as she nodded, though Kasey was the one who answered. “Every night. Tonight included.”
“What time did you go to your own home?”
Tracking Game Page 4
