Tracking Game

by Margaret Mizushima

  It took just under an hour to reach their destination, and they dropped off the truck in the hospital parking lot before taking Stella’s car to the office of Western Colorado Realty, an attractive log building with a red metal roof. The sign out front confirmed that the business specialized in the sale of rural properties as well as rental of vacation homes and cabins.

  Before Stella could pull into a parking space, Mattie leaned forward and waved for her to keep on driving. “I’d like to swing into the alley and check out the back of the building.”

  “Why’s that?”

  Maybe it was her years of patrol or maybe her narcotics detection training, but Mattie usually liked to know the layout of the building before she went inside. Partly to know if there were backdoor exits, and partly just to know what kind of outbuildings were on the property. She explained her reasoning to Stella.

  “Okay,” Stella said, “we’ll go satisfy your curiosity. Never hurts to have too much information.”

  Stella swung around the block and entered the alley that ran behind the building. There was no fence to block the view, and she slowed to a stop as they came to a dumpster that sat outside a small garden shed. Mattie got out to poke around, and the glint of glass at the base of the shed caught her eye. A flat of old jars, their labels faded and missing from sitting out in the weather. She felt a buzz of excitement. These were the same type of jar as the one used in the Molotov cocktail.

  She motioned Stella to join her, and being careful to stay in the alley and not venture onto Wilson’s property, she walked where she could see the edge of the building. Anything found open to the eye from public roadways was fair game and could possibly be used to get a search warrant. Mattie spotted a red plastic fuel can leaning against the side of the shed next to the padlocked door and pointed it out to Stella. The detective swiped her phone camera to zoom in and take photos of both the fuel can and jars.

  “This will give us some talking points,” Stella said, shooting Mattie a pleased glance. “Way to go.”

  After parking in front, they went inside, where a pretty receptionist with red lacquered nails and silver bangles on her wrists offered them something to drink. They both declined, and she used the interoffice phone to tell Wilson they’d arrived. “He’ll see you in just a few minutes.”

  Mattie let her gaze travel around the lobby. Western paintings adorned the walls as well as aerial photos of various ranch houses surrounded by green meadows and mountainous settings. One wall appeared dedicated to photos of rental properties: cabins surrounded by forests or sitting beside lakes and rivers, vacationers in chest-high waders fly-fishing in the water.

  As promised, Wilson arrived within a few minutes, his right hand outstretched. When he came close, Mattie could smell the alcohol on his breath with an undertone of peppermint he’d most likely used to try to mask it. She was particularly sensitive to the scent of liquor, an aftereffect of being raised by an alcoholic. It wasn’t a big deal—he might have had a drink over a business lunch—but the odor hadn’t been present when she spoke to him this morning. Maybe Kasey’s rebuff had set him to drinking.

  “Did Tara offer you something to drink?” he asked. “Can I get you anything?”

  “Tara did offer, but no, thank you.” Stella glanced at her watch. “I have another appointment soon, so perhaps we could speak with you privately?”

  “Of course. Come this way.” Wilson escorted them back to an inner office and then ushered them toward a dark leather sofa and chairs that circled a glass coffee table near the window. “Please, have a seat.”

  Mattie and Stella sat on a sofa against the wall while Wilson settled into a plush chair. A handsome oak desk dominated the other side of the room, dark leather armchairs poised in front of it. Framed photographs of Wilson playing golf, riding a horse, and posing midhandshake with formally dressed individuals hung on the wall.

  “How can I help you?”

  Stella sat forward on the edge of the sofa. “I understand that you’ve been friends with Tyler and Kasey Redman for years.”

  “We go way back. In fact, the three of us grew up together.”

  “So you know them well.”

  “Almost as well as my own family. The Redmans have had it tough this past year.” Wilson was shaking his head in dismay. “What a terrible tragedy—Nate’s death. I hope you can find out who killed him.”

  “Do you have any information that might help us with that?”

  Wilson looked startled. “Me? No, ma’am. I know the Redmans, but I’m not that familiar with Nate. Or the people in his life.”

  “Don’t you socialize with Tyler and the Redman family?”

  Wilson’s complexion turned rosy. “Well … I did. I mean, I do. Some. But not so much since Kasey and Nate married. I mean, I see Kasey now and then around town or at her parents’ house, but not Nate.”

  That was a lot of stammering around just to say “not much anymore.”

  “Why would that be?” Stella asked.

  Wilson fiddled with the cuff on his tailored blue shirt. “No reason, really. Kasey runs in a different social crowd, I guess. I live and work here in Willow Springs. Don’t go over to Timber Creek as much as I used to.”

  It seemed like this line of questioning was making him nervous. To Mattie, his body language confirmed that he had feelings for Kasey, and she thought it was a safe bet that he’d been jealous of Nate.

  Stella’s brow lowered as she pursued it. “I understand that you and Kasey were high school sweethearts.”

  “Yeah. A long time ago.”

  “Some speculate that you might still have feelings for her.”

  Above his navy-blue silk tie, Wilson’s neck and face flushed a deep red. “Who said that?”

  Stella shrugged. “Someone who knows Kasey quite well.”

  “Probably Jasmine,” Wilson said, sighing. “She always sticks her nose where it doesn’t belong. Sure, I still care about Kasey. Like I would care about a sister, you know.”

  Men don’t gaze at their sisters the way you looked at Kasey this morning, Mattie thought. “How well did you know Nate?” she asked.

  He turned toward Mattie. “I met him a few years ago when he and Kasey married. Went to their wedding and wished them well. But other than that, like I said, I don’t see him.”

  Mattie pursued the topic. “You’re friends with Tyler, though. Did he ever talk about his brother-in-law? Did you get to know Nate through him?”

  “Nope. I mean, maybe Tyler mentioned him a time or two. He didn’t think much of Nate, but no, we didn’t spend time talking about him.”

  Stella picked up the questioning, zeroing in on Wilson’s words. “Tyler didn’t like Nate?”

  Wilson tugged at his collar. “I didn’t mean to say he didn’t like him. He liked him well enough, I guess. I should have said that Nate just wasn’t the subject of our conversations. You know what I mean.”

  “You said Tyler didn’t think much of Nate. In my book that means he didn’t like him.” Stella pinned the full force of her gaze on him. “Why didn’t Tyler think much of him?”

  “Look, I’m not pointing a finger at Tyler in any way. Maybe Tyler didn’t get along with Nate as well as he hoped. But that doesn’t make either of them a bad guy, especially not Tyler.”

  Mattie threw out exactly what she was thinking. “Maybe Tyler hoped that you would be his brother-in-law someday, not Nate.”

  Wilson stared at her for a few beats. “Maybe, but that wasn’t in the cards. Kasey fell in love with another guy. I moved on. End of story. There’s no more to it than that.”

  Stella asked the question that had to be answered. “Where were you last night around eleven o’clock?”

  Wilson’s eyebrows shot up. “Here in Willow Springs.”

  “With whom?” Stella asked.

  Wilson’s skin was starting to look dewy with sweat. “I was at home all evening watching movies. I went to bed early.”

  Stella looked skeptical. “On a Sa
turday night?”

  Knowing that was exactly how the detective had spent her own Saturday night, Mattie had to suppress her amusement.

  Worry lines etched Wilson’s forehead. “Absolutely. I’d been out late on Friday, and Saturday is a big workday for me. I have more appointments on Saturday than any other day of the week. I was beat. I took the night off.”

  “And can anyone verify that?”

  “Not really.” It looked like a flash of insight erased his worried expression. “Wait a minute. I made some phone calls during the evening. You can take a look at my cell phone records, can’t you? Isn’t that how it’s done these days? I wasn’t anywhere near Timber Creek, so you won’t get any pings off that tower.”

  Mattie studied him as he settled back in his chair, once again sure of himself. Must watch his share of detective shows on television. She sorted through the ways a person could give himself an alibi with a cell phone: leave it at home, leave it with a friend to make some calls, make some calls from home and then turn it off when you travel. But still, she thought, it would be worth checking out. “Will you sign a release form so that we can obtain your records?”

  “Absolutely. I have nothing to hide here.”

  Stella handed him a form from her notebook and settled back on the sofa, crossing one trouser-covered leg over the other while he gave the form a cursory glance and signed it. “One more thing, Mr. Wilson. There’s a container of gasoline or some kind of fuel behind your shed out back. What can you tell me about it?”

  He looked puzzled. “What?”

  Mattie studied him, trying to determine what he was thinking while both she and Stella awaited his next response.

  He shook his head, narrowing his eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Stella showed him the picture of the container and jars on her cell phone.

  “I have no idea how those things got there. They’re not mine.” He looked at the photo again. “Anyone could have put that can there. It’s outside the shed.”

  “Can we take a look inside the shed?” Stella asked.

  Wilson eyed her, shaking his head. “I don’t know what’s going on here, but I don’t like it. I heard somebody set fire to Nate’s van. You’re thinking it was me because you found a gas can sitting out beside my shed?”

  His defensiveness was unmistakable, but still, he had a point. Most criminals didn’t leave the tools of their trade sitting out in the open like that. And yes, anyone could have come down the alley and placed them there. Mattie knew the Timber Creek County prosecutor wouldn’t be able to take this discovery to court as evidence. But why would someone plant these things? Was someone trying to frame Wilson?

  “The gas can alone doesn’t point to guilt,” Stella said. “We’re taking a broad look at everything right now. So is it all right if we take a look inside the shed?”

  “I don’t think so,” Wilson said, standing and adjusting his cuffs. “I’ve told you everything I know about Nate Fletcher, so if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got another appointment that I need to get to.”

  Stella closed her notebook and stood. “All right. But if those aren’t your things, can we take them with us?”

  Wilson looked cornered, his eyes shifting while he paused, as if trying to analyze the consequences of his choices. “I suppose if I say no, you’ll sit out there until you get a warrant to take them.”

  Stella nodded. “It wouldn’t take long to get one. This is a homicide investigation.”

  Wilson waved a hand in dismissal. “Go ahead. Take the trash someone dumped. My fingerprints won’t be on anything.”

  Stella handed him one of her cards. “Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Nichol. Let me know if you think of anything that might help us in our investigation or if anything comes up.”

  Wilson stood to escort them out of the office, closing the door firmly behind them.

  Missing Robo’s familiar greeting from the back, Mattie took the passenger seat. Stella started the engine and drove to the back alley. After bagging the items and loading them into the car trunk, they headed for the hospital.

  “Sounds like Wilson and Tyler are close but there was no love lost between Tyler and Nate,” Stella said. “That doesn’t give us a motive for murder, but it’s a lead. We’ve got to take another look at Tyler. Can we trust an alibi given to us by his girlfriend?”

  “I know what you mean. But what would be Tyler’s motive? Any thoughts on that?”

  Stella frowned, obviously thinking about it. “I don’t know. Could he have learned that Nate was cheating on Kasey, making him angry enough to snap?”

  That didn’t fit. The crime scene indicated someone who’d planned the murder in advance, not someone who’d snapped.

  But before Mattie could speak, Stella nixed the theory herself. “No, too organized.”

  “Could Wilson be the one who discovered Nate was cheating and killed him to supposedly protect Kasey?”

  Stella pursed her lips, nodding slowly. “But I think those items could’ve been planted outside Wilson’s shed by someone who wanted to throw us off.”

  “But who?” If that was a theory worth looking at, it might point back to Tyler. Or maybe Jasmine? Or could they have planned it together? She shared her thoughts with Stella.

  They were back at the hospital, and Stella made the turn into the parking lot. “Everything’s muddy right now, but the one thing that’s clear is that Wilson still has a thing for Kasey. I’ll follow up on those phone records to see who Wilson was talking to last night. We’ll see if that sheds light on anything. But first we’ll go ahead as planned and see if Garrett and Leslie have remembered anything new, and then I’ll head on to Nate’s autopsy.”

  Though she was frustrated by the lack of clarity in the case, something inside Mattie’s stomach fluttered at the thought of seeing Cole again. And after the interview, she could look forward to an entire uninterrupted hour with him in his truck as they drove home. Maybe she would have an opportunity to bring up that hard conversation she’d wanted to initiate last night.

  ELEVEN

  It had done Cole’s heart good to see Mattie with Garrett and Leslie. She and Stella had both questioned the Hartmans gently, and Mattie’s warmth toward his friends had been obvious.

  Since Garrett’s condition had stabilized, Cole felt comfortable with heading home. Early this morning, he’d called Tess, his office assistant, to ask her to feed and water his animals, but he needed to get home to take care of afternoon chores himself. Then he would head out to the Hartman ranch to check on Garrett’s livestock and make arrangements for a neighbor to help over the next few days. When it came to animal care, there was always something to do.

  But in the meantime, he had Mattie all to himself while they drove back to Timber Creek. Though he was bone tired, handing her up into the passenger seat of his truck gave his outlook on life a fresh, new face-lift.

  After settling into his seat, he turned to study her to see how she was holding up. Fatigue registered itself in the lines around her eyes along with a saddened expression. He reached for her, and she slipped her hand into his. When she turned to face him, he noticed her dark-brown eyes were liquid.

  “How are you?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “It’s hard to see Garrett like that. Will he be able to see normally again?”

  “The doctor thinks it’s possible. It’s early yet.”

  “And poor Leslie, she loves him so much. Cole, it breaks my heart. They’ve been through more than anyone should this year, and to think he got hurt trying to save a neighbor. He’s such a good person.”

  “The salt of the earth.” He squeezed her hand. “Knowing Garrett, he’d do it all over again if he had to.”

  She was searching his face, and he knew she was trying to read him just as he’d done with her. “How are you doing? Did you get any sleep?”

  “I dozed in the chair a little after the doctor told us the bleeding had stopped.”

  �
�Do you want me to drive so that you can sleep?”

  “Are you kidding? And miss out on getting to be with you? I don’t want to waste time sleeping.”

  She shook her head at him, but the tiniest of smiles told him she was pleased. “Let me know if you change your mind. Talking to me might not be as awesome as you think.”

  “Being with you always gives me a lift, Mattie.” Cole released her hand long enough to start the engine and back out of the parking space, but then he reached for it again. Hand-holding might be all they had time for today, but it was the best he could do under the circumstances. “I take it you left Robo home.”

  “Yeah. You can drop me off there.”

  Cole glanced at her, wondering if he could possibly have more of her attention after they took care of their various responsibilities. “When do you plan to wrap things up tonight?”

  “I’ve got to check in with Brody, and we still have a couple people we need to find and interview—some guys from out of town.”

  He remembered their earlier conversation. “Why were you asking me about Nate and drugs?”

  “Robo hit on the driver’s side door panel of Nate’s van. The lab found traces of cocaine there.”

  “That’s a surprise. I wouldn’t have guessed that Nate had anything to do with the drug trade.”

  “We’re still not sure of it ourselves. The van is fairly new to them, and we need to track down the previous owners. Brody’s working on that. Kasey swears that Nate wasn’t involved with drugs in any way, and Robo found nothing in their house.”

  Cole was about to reply when his phone vibrated in his pocket. He grimaced as he released Mattie’s hand to fish it out to see who was calling. He didn’t have time today for a client emergency, and he hoped one wasn’t in the works. Caller ID told him that his oldest, Angela, was calling. “Mattie, this is Angie. I need to take this.”