Striking Range

by Margaret Mizushima

  She stepped back to maintain a safe distance between them. “The smoke inside the vehicle could have affected you, sir. I need to make sure you’re safe to drive. Do you have any weapons concealed on you?”

  “Absolutely not.” His original jovialness was beginning to fade, typical of this type of traffic stop. Folks were always friendly in the beginning, but they turned surly as soon as they realized that law enforcement was onto whatever they were doing wrong. Dressed in camo and fleece, he stood with his hands shoved into his pockets, bracing against the wind, his shoulders scrunched up.

  “Please move to the rear of the vehicle.” Mattie watched him walk steadily toward the back of his Lexus, stopping him when he reached a spot between their two cars. “Turn away from me and place your hands on your head. I’m going to do a quick pat-down.”

  Smith scoffed, shaking his head in disgust, as he complied. The pat-down revealed nothing, and she began directing him through a roadside sobriety test: heel-to-toe walking and fingertip-to-nose touching while she observed his muscle coordination.

  “I made Reagan keep his window rolled down so I wouldn’t be affected,” Smith muttered as he completed the test with no apparent problems.

  “That was smart of you.” It would’ve been even smarter if he’d maintained the speed limit—then she would’ve never known—but she wasn’t going to tell him that. “I appreciate your cooperation, sir, and you can return to your vehicle.”

  Once he was inside, Mattie spoke through his window to the passengers. “I need to see everyone’s identification, please.” Though Smith’s license had indicated he was thirty-three years old, she needed to make sure the passengers were of legal age to smoke weed. A quick glance through their driver’s licenses told her that all were within legal limits, including the red beard named Reagan Dawson. They were all from Nebraska.

  “All right,” she said to Cutter Smith. “I’m going to write you a warning and let you be on your way. I hope you’ll keep your promise to slow down and observe the speed limit signs more carefully.”

  He looked relieved and nodded, some of his friendliness restored.

  “Where are you headed?” Mattie asked him.

  “Somewhere west,” he said, lifting his hand to indicate that direction. “We’re here to hunt elk.”

  She bent lower to speak to everyone in the car. “I know you’re from out of state, but you all need to know it’s illegal to open marijuana packaging and use the contents inside a moving vehicle. I’m going to cite Mr. Dawson for that.”

  A chorus of groans arose.

  “You should know Colorado state law if you’re going to buy weed and use it here. No transporting of marijuana is allowed across state lines, no smoking in public places including outdoor parks, and no smoking on federal lands including national forests and campgrounds.”

  “Shit,” Dawson muttered from the back seat.

  “Just giving you fair warning.” Mattie gave him her cop face as well. “Your best bet is to find a motel that allows smoking. The one in Timber Creek does not, so you might as well keep driving.” She straightened. “I’ll return in a few minutes.”

  The smooth whirr from the power windows told her they were raising them as she walked back to her Explorer, their driver’s licenses in hand. Robo greeted her with a few bouncing steps as she approached the car, followed by sniffing at her through the mesh when she stepped up into the driver’s seat.

  “You smell what’s going on, don’t you?” Robo had been trained to detect narcotics and gunpowder, which was why she didn’t need to use him to sweep this particular vehicle. She already knew he would hit on both. The illegal use of marijuana gave her probable cause to search inside the vehicle for other drugs if she wanted to, but she believed these guys weren’t drug runners and had honestly come into the area to hunt. They had all the gear for it, including the beards.

  She ran a quick check to make sure the two passengers had no arrest warrants, wrote out the citations including the speed warning, and returned to the Lexus to deliver them. Smith rolled down the window and tried to stare her down as she handed him the citations, but she didn’t let him.

  She bent forward to address them all. “Drive safely and slow it down. Be careful to observe state laws for marijuana use, and you should have no more trouble. Good luck with your hunting.”

  She really didn’t care whether they bagged an elk or not, but she said it as a gesture of goodwill. Out-of-state hunters and tourists could sometimes be a nuisance in Timber Creek County, depending on their behavior. They brought much-appreciated income to the town’s merchants, but some of them also brought trash, alcohol, and mischief. These were the types that gave the respectful outsiders a bad name, and Mattie had to wonder about these guys, since they’d already broken the law.

  Smith gave her a sardonic smile. “Thank you, Deputy Fife … oh sorry, I mean Deputy Cobb.” His passengers snickered at his joke.

  Clever, never heard that one before, Mattie thought, but she kept the retort to herself. “Be safe out there, Mr. Smith.”

  She turned on her heel and walked away before he could take another shot at her. Providing law enforcement in a small town had its share of challenges, this type of ribbing being only one. It was offensive, but Sheriff McCoy held his officers to a high standard of professionalism, and he wouldn’t accept excuses for public displays of temper.

  “Smartass,” she muttered as she climbed back into her SUV, and that would be the only reaction she allowed herself. She checked back in with dispatch to radio an all clear while she waited for the Lexus to drive away.

  Smith used proper signals before pulling into the lane. She followed several car lengths behind as he made a point of creeping the last quarter mile into town. When he turned onto the highway to Hightower, she stayed with him until she reached the last street in Timber Creek, where she turned and drove around the block to set a course toward the station.

  County cruisers and the sheriff’s Jeep filled the parking lot, telling her it was shift change and time for afternoon report. She unloaded Robo, and he trotted ahead to the door, his tail waving. He paused to let her enter first, which she rewarded by saying, “That’s right,” before telling him it was okay to follow her inside.

  It was a small thing but one that he’d tested her on in the past, often crowding her at the door. With Robo, she had to stay on top of him to remind him who was boss. With these high-drive male dogs, you didn’t dare let discipline slip or it could take weeks of retraining to regain their respect.

  Once inside, her dog knew he had the run of the place, and he beat it over to the dispatcher’s desk, where Mattie’s friend Rainbow sat with her headset on. She stripped it from her head so she could lean over Robo to give him a hug and a kiss and coo sweet nothings in his ear, her long blond side braid swinging forward. The two had a special relationship, and Mattie had given up on keeping them apart during their first greeting of the day. As long as her dog didn’t allow his rambunctious behavior to spill over to others, she let him enjoy the love.

  “Hey, Mattie.” Rainbow glanced up, laughter lines crinkled at the edge of her blue eyes. “You’re not supposed to be here today, much less making traffic stops.”

  “I know, but the guy was busting thirty over the limit outside of town, and I couldn’t let that go.” Mattie watched while her dog nuzzled Rainbow’s arm, asking for more petting, which the dispatcher seemed happy to provide. “You spoil him.”

  “We’re buds, aren’t we?” Rainbow giggled while Robo stole a kiss, swiping his tongue against her cheek.

  “That’s enough.” Mattie intervened, telling Robo to settle down before he tried to climb into her friend’s lap. “Anything happening around here that I should know about?”

  “Nope, just the routine. Brody’s doing report. Stella said to look her up when you stopped by. She’s in the sheriff’s office.”

  “All right.” Just routine meant no known trouble brewing, which might lead to Sheriff McCoy’
s allowing her to investigate the Redstone Ridge trail tomorrow with Hauck. “Robo, you have to come with me, even if you don’t want to.”

  Rainbow gave him one more kiss on top of his head. “Do you want to come out to my place for dinner this weekend? You guys haven’t been out forever.”

  Her friend lived just outside the city limits west of town in a small cabin built beside the actual stream called Timber Creek from which the town derived its name. “I’d love to, but a detective from California is coming here, and if the sheriff approves, we’ll probably be spending this weekend up in the high country.”

  “Detective Hauck?”

  “Yeah.”

  “He just left. Stopped by to talk to Sheriff McCoy and Stella and then said he was going to go check into the motel.” Rainbow grinned. “The Silver Fox.”

  Mattie nodded. With Hauck’s white hair and movie-star looks, she thought it an appropriate nickname. “The name fits.”

  “Friendly guy. He even stopped on his way out to visit with me.”

  Mattie agreed that visiting with a dispatcher wasn’t typical detective behavior, but she thought something besides friendliness might have come into play. Rainbow didn’t realize it, but she was very pretty.

  “What did Detective Hauck want to talk about?” Mattie asked, thinking he might have been flirting.

  “You.”

  That was a surprise. Mattie frowned. “What did he want to know about me?”

  “Well, he wanted to know about you and Robo, I guess. He said he didn’t know you were a K-9 handler until this morning. So he mostly wanted to know about Robo and what he does for the department.” Rainbow gave her a fake frown. “Don’t look so concerned, Mattie. I just told him general stuff that he could learn from anyone. I didn’t reveal any of your deep, dark secrets.”

  Mattie knew she was being teased, but truthfully, Rainbow didn’t even know her deep, dark secrets. Stella did, and because of past circumstances, the sheriff and Brody did too, but Mattie had never shared everything with Rainbow. She kept her past history private whenever possible. She responded by teasing back. “That’s good. I trust you’ll keep my secrets safe in the future. So he wasn’t flirting with you?”

  Rainbow scoffed. “Are you kidding? He’s older than my father. He just seems like a nice guy.”

  Mattie agreed. “I’d better go join Stella and the sheriff. Robo, come with me.” Robo fell in beside Mattie as she crossed the lobby to the door of McCoy’s private office. With a hand gesture, she signaled for him to sit at heel before she tapped on the door.

  “Come in.” The sheriff’s voice, rich and deep in timbre, came from inside. When she opened the door, he greeted her with one of his smiles that made her feel warm and accepted. Abraham McCoy’s age was beginning to show, with a sprinkle of gray at the temples of his closely buzzed black hair, but aside from the crow’s-feet at the corners of his brown eyes, the dark skin of his face remained smooth and his jawline taut. The man exuded a trustworthiness that voters evidently recognized, which kept him in office. “Have a seat, Deputy. We were just talking about how we could support you with Detective Hauck’s investigation.”

  As she settled onto one of the chairs in front of McCoy’s desk, Mattie exchanged glances with Stella. Robo sat beside her, ears pricked, as he appeared to scope out the sheriff’s office. It was unusual for him to be invited into this inner sanctum. “I heard that Detective Hauck stopped by.”

  “Right.” McCoy leaned forward, forearms on his desk. “Since John Cobb was killed outside our jurisdiction, he seemed to want to make sure I would allow you to help investigate. I told him that wouldn’t be a problem. We’re the ones who arrested Cobb in the first place, and those markings on the map you found bring the investigation right back to Timber Creek County. We need to go see if we can find anything.”

  “I’m glad you feel that way. Cole said he would arrange horses and a posse member to take Hauck up into the high country. How many of us do you plan to send?”

  “Just you, Robo, and Hauck. We’ll make further adjustments if you turn up something.”

  “Hauck seems motivated to see if he can tie John Cobb to your father’s death, Mattie,” Stella said. “Maybe he’ll be able to make some headway where others couldn’t.”

  “I hope you’re right.” Mattie thought her father’s case had been allowed to sit on the shelf for years. “I wonder why John Cobb marked that trail in the places he did.”

  “Hauck shared the photo of the page with us,” Stella said as she and McCoy both picked up their cell phones and swiped their screens. “I’ll enlarge and print it.”

  “Thanks.” Mattie pulled her cell phone from her pocket to open the same photo while Robo settled down beside her, resting his head on his front paws. They were all familiar with this trail, having excavated Willie’s grave site near the base of the ridge a few months ago. “Do you associate anything with these markings?”

  “The obvious, I guess,” Stella said. “Something buried? The Cobb brothers’ history might suggest firearms, money, or even bodies.”

  McCoy looked grim. “We investigated that area beneath the ridge with Robo when William’s grave was discovered, so I’m not sure we’d find anything new there. But the X on the backside of the ridge corresponds to the area where Cobb took you, and it bears further investigation. Even though we searched there after Cobb was arrested, we didn’t use Robo at the time. Cobb must’ve hidden something up there before we arrested him. Maybe you can get a sense of how we should proceed after you explore tomorrow.”

  Mattie thought about the wilderness involved. Miles of forest surrounded Redstone Ridge in the high country west of town. Secrets lay buried up there for decades—perhaps forever. Unless she and Robo could bring them to light.

  EIGHT

  Saturday morning

  On the back of Cole’s red roan named Mountaineer, Mattie followed Garrett Hartman as he led their small party toward the north side of Redstone Ridge. Named for a shade of rose quartz that ran through the striated rock on the cliffside, this ridge was arguably one of the most beautiful spots in the state of Colorado, despite the forest surrounding it being marred by fire. But for Mattie, its beauty had been destroyed by her brother’s death.

  She settled deeper into her well-insulated coat, a wind- and rain-resistant brown winter jacket supplied by the department. The frigid air pinched her cheeks, and she pulled its faux fur collar up to shield them. Mountaineer needed little to no guidance as he followed the lead horse, so she was able to relax in the saddle, leaning forward and shifting her weight to maintain her balance as they moved upward on the steep trail.

  The cold front brought in by yesterday’s wind had lowered the temperature at least thirty degrees. Clouds hung low around peaks cloaked by snow, and frost flocked the needles of spruce and pine, but snowfall had yet to accumulate at this elevation. Their journey had been unimpeded and they’d made good time this morning, riding in tandem through the trees’ shadows—first Garrett, followed by Mattie and then Jim Hauck.

  Robo ranged from front to back, sometimes blazing the trail and oftentimes exploring the outskirts deeper in the forest but always coming back to trot beside Mountaineer for a while. At this rate, he would cover two miles to their one.

  Cole had wanted to come, but puppy care prevented it; and Mattie understood, especially since his kids were involved. When they’d checked in with each other this morning, he’d told her he loved her before saying good-bye, and despite earlier struggles with saying the words, she now found them easy to repeat, a simple thing that lifted her mood when she faced a tough day like today.

  They were entering the area destroyed by fire. Garrett Hartman—a tall, lanky cattleman who served on the sheriff’s posse—turned in his saddle, his gray-blue eyes showing his concern. He’d been part of the group who’d helped find her the night this area burned. “How are you holding up?” he asked, his voice laden with care.

  “I’m good. Don’t worry.” Mattie felt
almost as close to this man as she did to Cole, although in a completely different way. She’d met Garrett a little over a year ago when investigating the death of his teenage daughter. He’d developed a fondness for both Robo and her, treating Mattie like he was a protective older brother—a trait that she found endearing, which surprised her. She wasn’t used to accepting protection, a duty she considered an important part of her own job description.

  Garrett turned to face forward again as his gelding humped up another steep incline, stones rolling under the horse’s churning hooves. The pack behind Garrett’s saddle contained supplies they would need for the day, a foldable camp shovel tied on top.

  Mountaineer followed at a safe distance, and Mattie grasped the saddle horn as she leaned forward. Blackened tree trunks, stripped of their branches, spiked the landscape. At first they were scattered among healthy trees that had evaded the fire, but as they rode deeper into the burnt area, she could see where the devastation took over and filled the mountainside with very little but the charred debris of dead trees.

  The odor of charcoal still tainted the air as they left behind the clean scent of the living forest. Robo came back and stayed close beside her as lowering clouds weakened the sunlight. Mist wrapped around the crags, readily apparent in the distance now that the forest no longer blocked the view.

  Mattie knew what lay at the base of those crags—a cave where she’d fought off her captor and escaped. A chill breeze quickened, and without the shelter of the evergreen forest, it hit her square in the chest. She shivered, not only from the harsh wind but also from the memories of that cruel night.

  How the wind had howled! She’d stumbled from that cave, still partially under the influence of a disabling drug, and disappeared into the trees. Equipped with night-vision goggles, John Cobb probably would have been able to find her if it hadn’t been for the forest catching on fire. A blessing in disguise for her; utter destruction for the backside of Redstone Ridge.