“Well, I’ll be damned!”
Mattie photographed and bagged the projectile, and this time Robo followed her out to join back up with Brody. They both patted and praised him while he danced in place, staring at the pouch on Mattie’s utility belt where she kept the tennis ball they played with for his reward. “Hold on a second,” she told him, stroking his head. “Let’s get away from this scene before we play.”
Mattie clipped on Robo’s leash while she studied the ground darkened by blood. “Wilson was shot at close range here, and the bullet went through his chest, losing velocity in the willows.”
“Ballistics can probably determine the caliber,” Brody said, “but I think you’re right; this eliminates the possibility of a long-range rifle shot.”
“I don’t know if the binoculars belonged to Wilson or his killer.” Turning slowly, Mattie scanned the area’s entire circumference, trying to determine what the person using the binoculars could have been looking at. The forest blocked her line of vision in every direction but downhill. That one afforded her a view of the valley where the Redman Ranch and its headquarters were located.
Brody was looking downhill, too. “The Redman Ranch?”
Who would find this view so interesting? And why? “Let me play with Robo for a few minutes, and then we’ll get back to work.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
SEVENTEEN
Mattie and Robo searched the area around Wilson Nichol’s crime scene but didn’t find anything new. When two members of the sheriff’s posse arrived to guard the site, she thought she might call it quits, but then she noticed Robo’s head go up, and he stared into the forest. Within seconds, he put his nose to the ground to sniff, shifting his head side to side in the way that meant he was zeroing in on human scent.
She called to Brody. “Robo’s got another hit. I think he’s still following Wilson Nichol’s track.”
“Go for it. I’ll follow.”
Mattie spoke softly to Robo, encouraging him as he guided her upstream. They trekked about one hundred yards through steep and rugged terrain before Robo veered away from the creek. Mattie figured this was the path Wilson had taken prior to being shot.
Not long after they left the creek bank, Robo led her to a silver Lexus SUV parked within a pine grove as if it had been hidden in a spot far from the main road, which looped back and forth up the mountain in a series of switchbacks. Robo led her straight to the driver’s side door and sat while Mattie rewarded him with hugs and pats.
She looked over her shoulder at Brody. “This is Wilson Nichol’s Lexus.”
He raised one eyebrow as he scanned the small clearing within the trees. “Now we’ve got to wonder who hid it here.”
“True. But Robo led me straight to the driver’s side door, so I think Nichol parked it here himself.”
“What’s inside?”
Mattie peered into the window. Since he was standing right next to her, Mattie figured it was a rhetorical question and didn’t answer, but she spotted several scrolls that looked like architectural drawings, rolled and secured with rubber bands, lying on the passenger seat beside an empty case for binoculars. Otherwise, the car’s interior appeared uncluttered and immaculate.
Careful not to touch anything, Brody leaned forward. “Keys are in it, and it’s probably unlocked. We’ll seal it and have it towed to the crime scene lab for a thorough search. Maybe it’ll give us some kind of evidence.”
“It looks like he might have left it here while he got out to take a look around with the binoculars.”
Brody scanned the area, his eyes following the two-track that led away from the trees where the car had been parked. “I can’t see the main road from here, but it probably connects with this one. Apparently Nichol headed downhill after he was shot instead of trying to get back here.”
Mattie thought about it. “That chest wound looked like it took out one of his lungs. Maybe he couldn’t get enough breath to try to go uphill.”
Robo had been sniffing the vehicle from all angles, reminding Mattie that she wanted to do a drug sweep on it. She called him to her and asked him to sweep the exterior in a methodical way, sniffing wheel wells and the undercarriage at her direction.
Nothing. This vehicle was free of the scent of narcotics. Although the lack of evidence didn’t wipe away her previous theory that Nate Fletcher and Wilson Nichol might have partnered in drug trafficking, it certainly didn’t support it.
Brody had called Sheriff McCoy to give him an update, and he disconnected the call just as Mattie was finishing up.
“No sign of drugs,” she told him.
“The sheriff will send Johnson to guard the car until it can be processed. I’ll stay here until he arrives, but you need to go down to where Nichol was shot. The game warden and McCoy are headed there now.”
Mattie acknowledged his words with a short salute and turned to jog downhill, Robo keeping pace beside her. She’d not traveled far, careful to watch her step and avoid stones and deadfall, when her phone rang. She stopped, and as she called Robo back to her, she withdrew her phone and checked caller ID.
Cole. She wanted to talk to him—they had a lot to discuss—but she felt like she should talk to him in person, face-to-face. She needed to join up with Sheriff McCoy as well, so she pushed the call to voice mail.
But as soon as she silenced the phone, she regretted it. What if Cole was calling with news about Garrett? Or the kids? Her life had expanded this past year so that not everything focused solely on her.
She hit Cole’s number on speed dial, resuming her quick pace down the mountain.
The phone rang once before Cole answered. “Mattie. I’m glad you called back.”
She could hear the stress in his voice. “I’m on my way to meet the sheriff, so I have only a minute.”
“I’ll just say it, then. I feel terrible about how we left things last night. I never wanted to hurt you, and I’ve gone over it a hundred times in my mind. I don’t know how I could have changed things, but I’m sorry if I made a mistake.”
Cole sounded so contrite that her heart went out to him. She had to let him know that she didn’t blame him. “Not your fault, Cole. It is what it is. We need to talk, but it might be late before I get off work.”
“Call me no matter when. I need to talk to you.”
She could tell he wanted to resolve things as much as she did, but now wasn’t the time. “Do you have news from Garrett?”
“He had a good night. They took him downstairs to the rehab department for evaluation, and he’s been there all morning.”
It was a relief to hear that at least Garrett had rested well. She caught a glimpse of McCoy’s large frame through the trees. “I’ve got to go.”
“Don’t forget to call me tonight.”
“Okay.” She ended the call, feeling tired and overwhelmed. Did she have it in her to navigate an intimate relationship? She didn’t have time to think it through, because she’d reached her destination.
When she entered the small clearing, McCoy and a woman were squatting beside the paw prints Mattie had flagged earlier. They both stood to greet her.
“Deputy Cobb,” McCoy said, “this is Glenna Dalton, the new wildlife manager.”
Mattie extended her hand. “Pleased to meet you.”
Glenna returned Mattie’s handshake while her eyes went to Robo. “Likewise. I’ve only been in town a few weeks, but I’ve already heard about you and your partner.”
Mattie knew that Robo’s successes over the past year had built his reputation, so she wasn’t surprised. “What do you think of this cougar attack?”
Glenna stood at least six inches taller than Mattie’s five foot four, and she was built strong and solid. She wore khaki shorts and a shirt with the Colorado Parks and Wildlife logo on the upper sleeve. Her curly brunette hair was caught loosely in a long ponytail at her nape, and her hazel eyes studied Mattie from under a floppy, wide-brimmed hat.
“It was a little
hard to believe at first,” Glenna said. “Not typical mountain lion behavior. I’ve been driving this territory since I was hired, and it looks like rabbits and rodents are plentiful up here. You know, a cougar’s usual fare. I have trouble believing a big cat would be hungry enough to feed off a human, unless something’s wrong with it. Maybe it’s been injured and unable to hunt.”
Glenna squatted back down near the paw prints. She reached into her pocket and took out a ballpoint pen, laying it down alongside the clearest print before taking out her phone and snapping pictures. “These prints are quite large. Bigger than any I’ve seen before.”
“Do you have experience studying cougar prints?” McCoy asked.
Glenna rocked back on her heel, bracing her arm against her knee while she looked up at the sheriff. “I was involved with a cougar project up in Montana prior to moving here. For six months we tracked and tagged mountain lions. I’ve seen some large cats, but this one is bigger than the norm.”
Glenna was studying the photos she’d taken, zooming in as she stared at the screen. She stood, offering her phone to McCoy first and then Mattie.
“Notice the toe shape here.” Glenna’s finger hovered over the screen as she pointed. “It’s shaped like an oval.”
Mattie didn’t know the significance of toe shape and assumed the sheriff didn’t either, but Glenna had taken back her phone and was swiping through photos again.
“Here,” Glenna said. “This is a photo I have from our project. Notice the toes. They’re teardrop shaped. That’s the hallmark of a cougar print. This print is smaller, too.”
Mattie took the phone and looked at a smaller print in the photo, lined up beside the same type of ballpoint pen. She’s right. These toes are shaped like a tear. “Are we looking at a different animal, then?”
Glenna shook her head. “I don’t know for sure. But the prints don’t match, do they?”
“They don’t.” Mattie decided she should mention the different sound the cat made. “When I heard this cat growl, it was deep-pitched, so deep that it rattled. I’ve only heard a cougar scream once, but it was nothing like what I heard last night.”
“What else could it be? A bobcat?” McCoy asked, but even as he spoke, he was shaking his head. “I know. Not big enough.”
Glenna stood and looked upward at the mountainside that loomed to the north. Mattie followed suit and scanned above the forest, noting cliffs and rocky outcroppings, canyons filled with the bright-green leaves of aspen, spires and crags, all places where a cougar could hide. Or lie in wait for his prey to pass by.
“I guess I need to go on a lion hunt,” Glenna said.
“How do you plan to do that?” McCoy said.
She turned away from the mountainside and looked back at the sheriff. “I don’t have a horse yet. Can you help me find one I can use?”
Cole could help, Mattie thought. He and his dad often supplied horses for search parties up in the wilderness area.
“Maybe,” McCoy said. “But you’ll never find a cougar up in that country. They’ve got a million places to hide and are rarely seen.”
“I’ve got a dog that’s trained for tracking game.” Glenna pointed at the paw prints and then traced her finger along an invisible pathway that traveled upward to an indefinite spot on the mountain. “If I start out first thing in the morning, I can pick up the track here and follow it to its territory. I should be able to find it.”
As soon as she uttered the words, Mattie thought of Cole’s Doberman pinscher. Bruno’s previous owner had used him to track deer and elk that she hunted up on her mountain property. With the right dog, it could be done. “That’s a dangerous mission for a dog,” Mattie said. “Tracking a big cat.”
The sincere expression on Glenna’s face projected the confidence she had in her dog. “Mine’s a Rhodesian ridgeback. They’re used for tracking lions in Africa. I use an e-collar with an audio signal that tells him to come back to me, and he knows I’m serious when I call him.”
Mattie considered all the things that could go wrong: the dog could get out of signal range, the cat could ambush Glenna from above, and since this new wildlife manager was unfamiliar with the rugged country she was headed into, she could even get lost. “You’re going to need some help.”
“I hoped someone would offer.” Glenna looked directly at Mattie.
McCoy shifted his weight from one foot to the other, a rare sign that he’d grown restless. A quick glance told Mattie he was frowning. “I don’t know if this is a good idea. I need to loop in Cole Walker and discuss it with him—he’d be the one to line up the horses. We need to think this through before we go off half-cocked.”
“He’s the local vet, right?” Glenna asked.
McCoy nodded. “I’m calling a team meeting at four this afternoon, Ms. Dalton—”
“Glenna,” she interjected.
“Glenna,” McCoy said. “Can you meet with us at the station? By then I’ll have discussed this with Dr. Walker. Perhaps he can come, too.”
Mattie didn’t like the idea of Cole going on a man-eating lion hunt in the mountains when his daughters needed him. Sophie and Angela should come first. But Glenna’s hazel eyes lit with anticipation.
“Having a vet on the hunt would be perfect,” she said. “I’d like to sedate the cat instead of killing it, and a vet could help. I’ll come to your meeting.”
The thought of Cole riding into harm’s way made Mattie’s stomach drop. She would lobby against it, but she supposed the final decision would be up to Cole. The best she could hope for would be for him to decline the mission, but she doubted that would be the case. If it meant saving the life of an animal, whether it was wise or not, choosing to stand aside wouldn’t be the Cole Walker way.
EIGHTEEN
Mattie drove by the Big Sky Motel on her way to the station, noticed the Cadillac’s absence, and wondered where Zach Irving and Ben Underwood had gone. Had they headed back to California, or were they going forward with their fishing trip? Stella would know, and she made a mental note to find out.
Sheriff McCoy’s Jeep was already parked in the lot at the station, as was Stella’s Honda. Mattie unloaded Robo and went inside, but as soon as she entered, Stella came from her office and headed toward McCoy’s, beckoning for Mattie to join her.
Stella spoke softly. “The sheriff has Nate Fletcher’s parents here in his office. I want you to hear what they have to say.”
“All right.” Mattie followed Stella through McCoy’s office door.
Bent with grief, Tom and Helen Fletcher looked like they hadn’t slept for days. Sheriff McCoy had settled them into visitors’ chairs, cups of coffee placed on the desk in front of them. Helen hunched forward in her chair, her arms wrapped around her middle, while Tom sat with knees splayed, elbows propped on his thighs as if holding him up. Their eyes were reddened, lids swollen.
Stella and McCoy took their seats, while Mattie and Robo lingered in the doorway. Tom Fletcher stood and offered his chair, but Mattie told him she’d rather stand. He sighed heavily as he sank back into his seat, the weight of the world on his bent shoulders.
McCoy cleared his throat. “Mr. Fletcher, would you repeat what you’ve told me for Detective LoSasso?”
Tom nodded and set his gaze on Stella. “We knew we needed to come talk to you in person, because we know how it is in small communities.”
“How’s that, Mr. Fletcher?”
“Nate was the outsider here. Hometown folks get the benefit of the doubt.”
Stella frowned. “I can assure you that’s not how we’re running our investigation.”
“The sheriff has already assured me of that. But still, it’s important for us to be here.”
“I’m sure that’s true. And it’s important for us to hear what you have to say.”
Tom leaned forward. “There’d been something eating away at Nate for the past few months. He’s never been the kind who would talk openly about his troubles, but when we spoke on the phone, I
could tell he was unhappy.”
Stella nodded, apparently waiting while he collected his thoughts.
“He quit calling me and his mother. If we wanted to touch base, it was up to one of us to reach out.” Tom looked at his wife. “A few months ago, he told Helen that things weren’t going well at home and he was considering leaving Kasey. When she asked him why … Well, you tell them, honey.”
This came as a surprise. Everything she and Stella had gleaned from Kasey and her family suggested that the two had been happily married.
Helen picked up the story. “Nate said Kasey had expectations that he couldn’t fulfill. That seemed to be all he wanted to say about it, and I gathered it was a private matter so I shouldn’t probe.” A slight tinge of pink colored her pale cheeks, and she brushed a strand of dark hair shot with gray back from her face.
Helen choked up, so Tom continued. “A couple months ago, Nate asked to borrow money. Quite a large sum, in fact. I asked why he needed so much, and he said the original loan for starting his business had come due and he hadn’t generated enough income to cover it. That didn’t seem right to me, so I asked if I could view his financials before making a commitment.”
There’d been a hint that Nate and Kasey had been dealing with financial trouble, but this bit of news provided confirmation. Mattie wondered if the couple was deeper in debt than she’d thought.
Tom braced his elbows on his knees, hanging his head in utter desolation. “In hindsight, I wish I hadn’t done that. Nate got his feathers ruffled, and it took some explaining to make him understand that his mother and I wanted to help, but we needed to be assured that his business could pay back the loan eventually.”
Helen interjected, placing her hand on her husband’s shoulder. “Tom has a lot more business experience than Nate. He’s managed his own insurance company for over thirty years.”
“It’s made a living for us, but we don’t have large sums of money on hand to loan out.” Tom placed his hand on hers. “When Nate was a child, we covered him with a generous life insurance policy, in part to be used to borrow against if he needed college money or start-up money for a business. I suggested we look into borrowing against the policy if he was interested.”
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