Striking Range

by Margaret Mizushima

  Mattie followed Stella up the steps to the doorway, which was also wheelchair accessible via a concrete ramp that ran to the right of the entryway and then doubled back on itself. The entire setup appeared professional and inviting.

  The door opened into a lobby appointed with homey furnishings and a counter that separated customers from the receptionist’s area. A woman, who appeared to be forty-something and had short, raven-colored hair set off by bleached highlights, sat behind the counter inspecting a computer screen.

  The woman rose from her seat and extended a handshake across the countertop. “I’m Carla Holt. Thank you for driving here to talk to me. The roads were such a mess last night, I hated to go back out there this morning.”

  Stella shook hands first. “So were you out on the road last night?”

  As Mattie shook hands, she wondered why Carla would bring up driving during the storm first thing.

  “I needed supplies and groceries from Willow Springs, so I got caught out during the storm and didn’t make it home until late.” Carla smiled as she walked out from behind the counter.

  “What time did you leave for Willow Springs, and when did you get back?” Stella evidently decided to go for alibi right off the bat.

  Carla looked surprised but replied to the question. “I left home about three and didn’t get back until around seven. I often stop at a coffee shop for some down time and to read when I go to Willow Springs, and I got caught off guard. It took me two hours to get home on a drive that usually takes forty minutes.”

  Mattie knew the road well, and it involved crossing a pass through the mountains. The ice storm would have made the extra drive time quite possible.

  Carla waved a hand toward the seating area. “Let’s sit. Deidra won’t be in for another half hour. I thought that would give us some time to talk privately before she arrives.”

  “Thank you.” Stella glanced at Mattie as they all took seats in the lobby. “You must be wondering why we’re here to talk with you.”

  “Well, when you said police business, I decided it must be important. But I have everything I need in place to run my center—licenses, registrations, and such. I’m not too worried.” The lines on Carla’s brow belied her words. “But I assume this has something to do with Tonya Greenfield, since she’s the patient you were asking about.”

  Stella nodded. “I’m sorry to bring you bad news, but Tonya was found deceased yesterday near Timber Creek.”

  Carla couldn’t have looked more startled; she slumped back in her chair and raised her hands as if to ward off the statement. But was her reaction genuine or was she acting? Mattie wasn’t certain.

  “Are … are you sure?” Carla stared at Stella. “That doesn’t seem possible. She was the picture of health when I saw her yesterday morning. Did she … did she go into labor by herself? What happened?”

  “That’s what we’re trying to determine. We hope the medical examiner can give us some answers.”

  Carla’s face showed her distress. “I suppose the baby is also gone?”

  Is she using the word gone as a euphemism for dead, or is she asking if the baby’s missing?

  Stella evidently wanted clarification too. “When you say gone, what do you mean?”

  Carla lowered her eyes to her lap, where her hands were clenched. “Is the baby dead too?”

  “We don’t know,” Stella said.

  Carla’s eyes darted upward to meet Stella’s. “So … why don’t you know if the baby’s dead or not?”

  “Tonya was no longer pregnant when she was found, but we don’t know where the baby is. I understand that Tonya’s due date was next week.”

  “Yes, everything appeared on schedule, but …” Carla paused as if thinking. “I suppose I can share some details with you, since my patient is deceased. It would be better if you had a warrant for the information.”

  Stella unzipped her leather notebook to remove the warrant she’d obtained before leaving Timber Creek, and she extended it toward Carla.

  The midwife took it, scanned it, and then nodded as if it satisfied her needs. She drew a breath. “When I examined Tonya yesterday morning, her cervix had begun effacement and dilation. I told Tonya that I thought her labor could begin within the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours.”

  “How did Tonya respond to that?” Mattie asked.

  “She seemed excited … scared. I mean nervous … you know. She expressed some of the normal fears about a first-time delivery.”

  Mattie needed to dig more into that fear. “Was Tonya particularly nervous about pain?”

  Carla nodded. “I would say so, although no more than some of my young mothers. We do labor and delivery training here, but Tonya had yet to finish all of the classes, since she’d moved here so late in her term.”

  “Do you use pain medication for labor and delivery?”

  “Not unless we have to for extended labor or complications. I have a local family physician on call for my patients. He can step in and prescribe pain meds if necessary.”

  Mattie glanced at Stella, wondering if it was all right to bring up the fentanyl patches.

  Stella took over. “Who is your physician consultant?”

  “Nash Rodman. We don’t have any obstetricians in Hightower, so when Dr. Rodman joined the local family practice about a year ago, I asked him to consult with some of our mothers. It’s been nice to have a young doctor with modern ideas to collaborate with.”

  Mattie recorded the doctor’s name in her notebook.

  “Do you or Dr. Rodman perform abortions?” Stella asked.

  “I don’t, and I doubt if he does, since he’s in family practice, not obstetrics. I send my clients who’re interested in exploring abortion to an obstetrical clinic in Willow Springs. You’d have to ask Dr. Rodman himself about his policy.”

  “Did Tonya ask you about exploring abortion as an option?”

  “No. Tonya knew what she wanted before coming to our center, and she had her adoption plan in place.”

  Stella finally turned to the subject that Mattie wanted her to address. “Do you or your physician consultant ever use fentanyl patches as a form of pain control?”

  “Not at all. Like I said, we avoid using drugs if possible.”

  “Do you have samples on hand?”

  “Absolutely not. There would be no reason for it.”

  Mattie wondered if Carla was protesting too much.

  Stella changed the subject. “Please give me a rundown on your schedule yesterday, including the time you finished with Tonya and saw her leave.”

  “You mean my whole day? Why?”

  “You and Ms. Latimer were among the last to see Tonya alive. I need to create a timeline for Tonya’s day yesterday, and it’s routine to establish a timeline for those who had contact with the deceased.”

  “Wait a minute—are you saying that Tonya was killed? She didn’t die during childbirth?” Carla’s hands were gripped tightly together in her lap.

  Stella remained expressionless. “Again, we don’t know. I would appreciate everything you can tell me to help us put the pieces together.”

  Carla looked nervous. “Tonya was our only patient yesterday, and I scheduled her on a Saturday morning so I could teach her the breathing techniques she needed to know before her labor. She arrived at eight and left about ten o’clock.”

  She paused to swallow, the audible sound revealing tightness in her throat. “I spoke to Deidra about Tonya’s complaint, and then she left shortly after. I worked here in the office until about noon.”

  “Was anyone else here at the time?” Stella asked.

  Carla bit her lip as she shook her head. “I closed the center and went into my home for lunch. Like I said earlier, I left for Willow Springs about three and returned home around eight last night.”

  She said seven earlier, Mattie thought. “Are you sure it was eight?”

  Carla waved dismissively. “Seven or eight, sometime around then.”

  “And
did you eat lunch with someone here at your home or have contact with someone before you left for Willow Springs?” Stella asked.

  Worry lines appeared between Carla’s brows. “I live alone, so no.”

  Stella nodded, her face serene. “Please give us details as to your stops in Willow Springs and whether or not you have receipts.”

  Carla mentioned stops at a grocery store, a gas station, and a coffee shop, ending with a drawn-out explanation of why she never got printed receipts, keeping only digital records.

  “While I talk with Ms. Latimer, perhaps you can pull up those records to show me.”

  “I’m not sure the charges I made will be posted on my account yet. I don’t think I can show you a record of it today.”

  Stella pursued the point. “Didn’t you mention that you needed medical supplies? What store did you go to for that?”

  Carla flushed. “The medical supply store closes at two on Saturdays. I’d forgotten that, or I wouldn’t have made the drive yesterday at all. And I paid cash at the coffee shop.”

  Stella nodded, her eyes slightly narrowed. “Then please send me a record of your purchases at the grocery store and gas station as soon as you can.”

  The midwife nodded, and a muscle at her jaw bulged as she lowered her eyes. “I feel like I’m a suspect,” she murmured.

  “You’re in the position of being close to the deceased, and as I mentioned before, we don’t know yet what caused Tonya’s death.” Stella kept her tone neutral. “I’m gathering all the information I can so I don’t have to backtrack later. And I appreciate your help and cooperation.”

  The outside door opened, and Mattie glanced over to see a woman enter. Apparently, Deidra Latimer had arrived. She scanned the room and gave them a quick smile before bending to unzip and take off her boots. Her platinum-blond hair draped over her face, but not before giving Mattie a glimpse of one of the most strikingly beautiful women she’d ever met.

  “I hope I’m not interrupting,” Deidra said.

  “No, you’re right on time,” Carla responded quickly.

  Mattie thought the midwife looked relieved to have someone arrive who would take the focus off her.

  NINETEEN

  Cole sat astride Mountaineer on a rise just above the Redstone Ridge trailhead and watched the team of four dogs and their handlers begin to comb the area. Sergeant Jim Madsen had divided the landscape into quadrants and assigned each quarter to one dog team. Then he planned to rotate through so that each team could use their special talents to search for what they’d been trained to find—narcotics, explosives, or dead people.

  Cole had met Madsen last spring when Sophie went missing and the sergeant brought his bloodhound Banjo down from Denver to help search for her. It had been good to reconnect with the intimidating man who had a soft heart. They’d embraced like brothers when Cole arrived at the motel earlier to lead the way to the Redstone trail parking lot.

  They’d encountered no problems driving on the highway. The road had been sanded, and the truck and trailer were heavy enough to provide stability. The bright Colorado sunshine was beginning to warm the countryside, eating away the snow that had fallen last evening so that brown patches of dirt and autumn foliage had begun to show.

  He turned to look at Garrett, who sat beside him astride his bay gelding. It was great to see his friend back in the saddle after being absent for a couple months. Garrett looked healthy and fit, and Cole couldn’t have been more pleased to be working beside him again.

  Detective Hauck was riding one of Garrett’s horses, and he sat watching the dogs as well, his wrists crossed on his saddle horn. “It’s fascinating to see this group of dogs work,” he said.

  “It is that.” Garrett turned toward Cole. “But that mean-looking shepherd that looks for drugs might as well take a break. Mattie and Robo covered that area yesterday, and if they didn’t find anything, it ain’t out there.”

  Cole smiled. It was well known how much his friend admired Mattie. “That’s a Belgian Malinois, Garrett, one of the best breeds in the business for police work. Be careful what you say around him, or he might eat your lunch.”

  Garrett chuckled. “I’m just saying Mattie and her dog are at the top of this game. And I’ll take a friendly German shepherd like Robo any day.”

  Hauck leaned forward in his saddle to look at Cole. “Those two do make an impressive team. Deputy Cobb covered miles on foot yesterday. I was amazed at her stamina.”

  “She trains hard for this,” Cole said. “And I have to work hard to be able to keep up with her.”

  Hauck raised one eyebrow. “So you work with Mattie often?”

  “When the sheriff’s department needs me.” Cole decided that was all he wanted to share. He liked Hauck, but it was too soon to tell him his personal business.

  Hauck studied him briefly before turning back to watch the dogs.

  “We might as well get down and stretch our legs,” Cole said as he dismounted. “This might take a while.”

  The teams were quartering back and forth, covering their assigned areas, often disappearing into the timber. Thinking along the same lines as Garrett, Cole kept his eye on the two Labs and the bloodhound. If explosives or a corpse lay buried, these would be the dogs that would alert.

  After about an hour, a commotion arose from within a grove of ponderosa pine. “Over here,” one of the handlers shouted.

  Cole turned to step back up into the saddle. “Let’s ride down to see what he found.”

  He led the way at a sedate pace, not wanting to ride up suddenly on the dog team. He spotted Madsen and Fritz hurrying through the trees on a course that would take them to the same pine grove where Cole and his party were headed. He slowed so Madsen would arrive first, figuring the sergeant would let them know if he wanted their help.

  When he saw the team who’d signaled the alert—a muscular guy who was built like a wrestler, sported a brunet crew cut, and was paired with the yellow Lab—Cole’s heart sank. “It’s the cadaver dog, Garrett,” he said as his friend’s horse quickened its stride to move up beside him.

  “Yup.” The grim lines set on Garrett’s face spoke volumes about what he was feeling. His daughter, Grace, had been found in a shallow grave in the mountains a little over a year ago.

  “Do you want to stay back?”

  “I brought a pry bar and a shovel.” Garrett showed no sign of stopping. “They might want to use it.”

  Cole nodded, riding close enough to hear Madsen talk to the Lab’s handler.

  “What did she do, Dirk?” Madsen asked.

  Dirk squatted beside his dog, one arm around her in a hug as he stroked and patted her side. “She gave me a hit, Sarge. Came here, did a double take over the ground, and then she lay down right on that spot,” he said, pointing to an open area inside the grove.

  “Good job. Now let’s get a second opinion.” After Dirk led his dog away about twenty feet, Madsen waved his hand toward the ground. “Let’s go, Fritz. Find it for me.”

  Fritz moved forward, nose to the ground, and within seconds he lay down on the same spot and stared up at Madsen.

  “Good lord,” Madsen said, looking over toward Hauck. “I think we’ve got a body.”

  * * *

  After lining up her boots on a mat beside the door, Deidra straightened and slipped off her coat, leaving her russet knit scarf draped around her neck. The tall blonde glided across the room on socked feet, wearing black leggings and a multicolored tunic, her stride as lithe as a dancer’s. Crow’s-feet around her green eyes spoke of years that weren’t readily apparent in her smooth, flawless complexion. Her makeup seemed artfully applied in a less-is-more strategy. All in all, she projected the appearance of a woman in her fifties who had maintained her youthful looks. She reminded Mattie of Rainbow, making her think yoga and vegan.

  Carla introduced Stella and Mattie before saying, “This is my assistant, Deidra Latimer.”

  Almost six feet tall, Deidra displayed perfect posture
and a slender yet athletic-looking build. She made complete eye contact, looking self-assured as she exchanged handshakes.

  “We appreciate you coming in to talk to us on your day off,” Stella said when she shook Deidra’s hand.

  “No problem. In this business, we’re always on call.” Deidra smiled softly as she adjusted her muffler. “It comes with the territory, and I love my job.”

  Carla interjected, her expression sad but determined, “I’m afraid these officers brought bad news about one of our patients.”

  Deidra sobered and stood still, one hand on her scarf. “Oh?”

  “It’s Tonya Greenfield.” Carla paused before blurting out the rest. “She’s been found dead.”

  Deidra looked stunned as she sank into a chair. “How? What went wrong?”

  Apparently having felt the need to deliver the bad news to her employee herself, Carla now relinquished the floor. She set her mouth in a grim line and directed her gaze toward Stella. Though Mattie made note of the dynamic, she categorized it as within the norm for employers who worked closely with their personnel, sort of a protective response.

  And Deidra’s question made Mattie think that the assistant believed Tonya’s death was associated with her pregnancy.

  Stella took over. “We’re not sure what happened to Tonya, though we plan to find out. We’d appreciate your help.”

  “Of course. I’ll help however I can.”

  Stella turned to Carla. “Is there a private space we could use to interview Ms. Latimer?”

  “Call me Deidra, please,” she murmured, looking down at her hands folded in her lap.

  “My private office is inside my home, but you’re welcome to use it.” Carla paused for a moment before standing. “Wait, I do have work I need to get done. Why don’t I go to my office, and you can stay here in the lobby where it’s comfortable. Deidra, the detective brought a warrant for us to share medical information, so you can talk freely about what you know with them. When you’re finished, please knock on the door.”