Jessie made an exasperated sound. “Sorry to burst your bubble, but that won’t work. Mom didn’t even enjoy raising us, you know, and Angela told me she won’t stay out there anymore. I guess Mom does nothing but complain about Olivia. It’s not good for the girls to be exposed to that.”
Cole’s head pounded. He closed his eyes, leaned sideways, and slid down onto the sofa. “I’ll take care of it, Jessie. I’ll think of something. I’ll fix it.”
“I’m willing to help, but you’ve got to decide which way you’re going to go. I think you should advertise for help.”
“Um-hmm,” Cole agreed as he let himself slip into oblivion. The last thing he felt before dropping off to sleep was the weight of a soft, fleece throw as Jessie placed it over him.
After some indeterminate time, he struggled to pull himself back to consciousness. Someone was shaking him.
“Dad! Da-ad!”
His tired body jumped several inches, as if hit with an electric cattle prod. “What? What is it?”
Illuminated by dim light coming from upstairs, he could make out Angela, her face white and distorted by pain.
“I’m sick.” She moaned, clutching her stomach. “My stomach hurts.”
“Where’s your mo—” Cole cut himself off before making a terrible mistake. “Where’s your Aunt Jessie?”
“Cleaning the bathroom. I didn’t make it to the toi—” Angela retched, clapping her hand over her mouth.
Cole leapt into action, grasping Angela by the arm and steering her out of the great room to the kitchen sink. “Here, Ange.”
She clutched the edge of the sink and heaved. The sound and smell made Cole feel nauseous himself, but he held her gently and pulled back her hair. Once the spasm passed, he led her to a chair and then filled a glass with cold water from the tap.
Kneeling down beside Angela, he handed her the water. “Do you feel any better?”
Her hand trembled as she reached for the glass. Taking a sip, she shrugged. He noticed her face had a greenish tint. Poor girl.
Angela’s stomach gurgled. “Oh, no . . .” she moaned. “I have to get to the bathroom.” She took off, heading toward the one under the stairwell.
Cole followed at a slower pace, wondering what the hell had made Angie so sick. As he waited outside the bathroom door, Jessie came down the stairs carrying a mop and bucket, looking harried and not at all as cool as she had when they’d arrived from Denver.
“Has she been exposed to flu?” Cole asked.
“Not that I know of. I suppose she could have picked up something without my knowing, but this came on all of a sudden.” Jessie paused. “What about food poisoning, Cole?”
He thought back to dinner. “She’s the only one of us that ate chicken. I’d better call Dr. McGinnis and see what we should do. Can you wait here and see if she needs anything?”
“Of course.”
Out in the kitchen, Cole found the list of emergency numbers Olivia had typed up and pinned next to the phone. After dialing, his call was answered on the second ring. He was surprised to hear the doctor’s voice on the line.
“Dr. McGinnis here.”
Cole identified himself and told the doctor why he was calling.
Dr. McGinnis replied, “I’ve lost track of how many calls I’ve had tonight. Don’t tell me. Angela had dinner at Clucken House, right?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“And she ate chicken.”
“Yes.”
“I suspect we’ve had an outbreak of salmonella. There’s not much we can do for her except watch her for dehydration. Give her water or ginger ale or whatever clear fluid she can tolerate. This should pass in four to six hours. If she’s not keeping something down by morning, better give me another call. Call sooner if she appears dehydrated or if her symptoms intensify.”
Hanging up the phone, Cole felt miserable. Poor Angel. She’d probably never want to eat at Clucken House again. Even if she did, he knew he was never going to let her.
And after what happened to Grace, he might not let either of the kids out of the house again anyway.
Chapter 8
Saturday
Mattie danced to the rhythm of a slow country song. Her hips moved in a languid sway, pressed against those of a dark Latino whose face—oddly enough—looked exactly like the vet’s. In one hand she held a cold bottle of Dos Equis with a slice of lime, while her other hand caressed the back of the man’s neck. His dark gaze deepened, and she arched into him, tilting her head back.
Leaving a trail of soft kisses, his lips traveled down her neck. She closed her eyes.
“Who are you?” she whispered.
He licked her arm, one slurp, leaving a wet track on her forearm like the footprint of a garden slug.
Her eyes popped open and met Robo’s, his muzzle inches from her face. He opened his mouth in a gentle pant. A bead of saliva dripped off his black lip.
Mattie groaned. “I can see that you must be hungry.”
Robo started his happy dance, weight shifting back and forth on his front paws, nails clicking on the hardwood floor.
To protect herself from Robo’s wet tongue, Mattie pulled the soft quilt that Mama T had made for her high school graduation up over her head. Soft strains of a country song on the radio faded as the announcer’s voice broke in.
“It’s five minutes after six on a beautiful Saturday morning . . .”
With a start, she raised her head to check the time.
After six? She’d slept through the alarm. No wonder Robo was trying to wake her. She threw back the quilt and sat up on the side of the bed.
“Okay. I’m getting up.”
Mattie leaned forward, propping herself against her knees. It had been a short night. The vet hadn’t come back to the clinic to relieve her until three fifteen in the morning. He’d said his daughter was sick.
Rubbing her eyes, Mattie peeked at Robo from between her fingers. By this time, he was beside himself.
“Go get your leash.”
He darted from the room, returning moments later with the blue nylon strap dangling from both sides of his mouth.
Mattie got up, slipped on black running shorts and a gray tee with “Timber Creek County Sheriff Department” stenciled on the front, and sank back down on the bed to put on socks and running shoes. She was tempted to lie down and pull the quilt back up, but she knew Robo wouldn’t let her. She clipped on his leash, led him through her small living room, and then opened the front door so they could step outside.
Taking in a deep breath of the brisk mountain air helped clear her head, and she thought of Grace. The teen would never enjoy a Colorado morning like this again. The sun had risen to sit above the tops of the eastern peaks, its slanted rays making colors vibrant. The tan clay road out front appeared orange, and the pink plastic geraniums her neighbor had set out in pots turned a deep rose. Saddened, Mattie leaned forward against the rough adobe wall of her house to stretch out her hamstrings.
“Okay, big fella, let’s go.” She took to the road, setting a brisk pace.
Robo ran beside her, his coat deep black in the morning light, his tongue rosy pink against his dark muzzle. He knew their route as well as she did but stayed in heel position rather than surging out front. Though nothing new, his obedience impressed her. The signal was tied to his equipment—everyday collar and leash meant heel, tracking harness meant out in front.
They hit the foothills at the edge of town and started up T-hill on a pathway worn smooth over the years by footsteps of children, hikers, and runners like herself. On the way up, she took turns with Robo, sometimes taking the smooth path while he dodged the rocks beside it and then letting him have the trail while she handled the more challenging footing.
The pathway ended when they reached the T near the top, a letter made from piled-up rocks whitewashed each fall by incoming high school freshmen. She left the trail and struck off for the summit, her body warmed by the effort of running uphill, her breat
h deep and even.
At the summit, she was surprised to meet another runner coming up the backside. It was the rookie, Ed Johnson. What the hell was he doing out here?
Johnson stopped in the opening between two rocky prominences, blocking the route Mattie intended to take. He looked winded. Bending forward at the waist, he braced himself with hands against thighs and puffed.
“Hey, Johnson,” Mattie said. “What are you up to? Trying to kill yourself?”
He gave her a sheepish grin, freckles standing out against his pale skin. “If I’m going to be your backup, I figure I’d better get in shape.”
His words took her by surprise. “I appreciate that.”
“Besides, I might want some of that action myself someday.”
“What action?”
“Being a K-9 cop.”
Any warmth Mattie might have been feeling toward the kid melted away.
“I was hoping you’d teach me some things,” he continued.
Not in this lifetime. “You have enough to learn with this being your first job. Most handlers spend several years on the force before they work K-9.”
“I figured Timber Creek might be different, it being so small.” He reached to pet Robo’s head.
“Don’t do that,” Mattie snapped.
Johnson jerked back his hand.
“Okay, rookie. Your first lesson is to never touch a police dog without asking the handler’s permission.”
“Sorry.”
Mattie glanced at her watch. “I need to finish my run.” She edged past, keeping herself between him and Robo, and then started running again, down the hill’s backside.
“Catch you later,” Johnson called after her.
Robo glanced back, but Mattie merely raised one hand to acknowledge she’d heard him. Halfway down, she began to feel silly. Maybe she’d overreacted. Geez, she told herself, no reason to act like such a bitch.
*
At the office, Mattie opened the patrol car door and let Robo out. “Come with me,” she said, and he trotted along beside her off lead. She had five minutes to spare before the meeting about Grace.
Inside, Rainbow was sitting at the dispatcher’s desk. Since she wasn’t required to be in uniform, she often wore flowing costumes made from gauzy fabrics with psychedelic colors. Today was no different, and she’d added a pink scarf tied with a floppy bow to hold back her long, blond hair. On anyone else, it might’ve looked ridiculous, but somehow Rainbow pulled it off.
“Good morning, Deputy.” Her blue eyes twinkled. You could always count on Rainbow being twinkly in the morning.
“What’s up?”
“I heard about you and Robo finding that girl yesterday.” Rainbow sobered for a moment. “That’s terrible. I mean, it’s not terrible about you finding her. It’s terrible about her being dead. I mean, killed.”
“Yeah, it’s bad.”
“I canceled my party tonight.”
Mattie had forgotten about Rainbow’s party, since she’d never planned to go to it in the first place. She hated parties. Seemed like someone always showed up either drunk or high, and she felt responsible for doing something about it. “Okay.”
“It didn’t seem right, most of the sheriff’s department partying after what happened to that poor girl.”
“Yeah, I guess not.”
“So I have all this food,” her voice rising at the end as if asking a question. “And I can freeze some of it, but I don’t know if the tofu cheesecake will freeze, so I’m just inviting a few friends over, and I hoped you would come. Anya Yamamoto from the hot springs will be there, and I want you to meet her.”
“Gee, Rainbow, I don’t know. I’ve got a full shift today, and I’m a little wiped out from helping out at the vet clinic last night. I think I’ll have to pass. But thanks anyway.”
“If you change your mind, just come on over. I have plenty of food, and feel free to bring Robo.”
“So you know those hot springs people?”
“Yeah. Haven’t you gone out there yet?”
“Not yet. But I thought I might drive out there when I have time and check things out.” Mattie remembered a comment Brody had made a while back that the people out at the hot springs were a bunch of idiots, some kind of health freaks. But then, Brody was an idiot, so she hated to lend him too much credibility.
Still, drug traffic had started through Timber Creek shortly after the group’s arrival.
“What are they doing out there, Rainbow?”
“They’re building a world-class health spa.”
“Uh-huh,” Mattie said, doubtful that a world-class anything would take off in Timber Creek. “You got any messages for me before I go into briefing?”
“No. But come on over tonight if you have a chance. I think it would be fun to get to know you better.”
Mattie searched Rainbow’s face for a hidden agenda, but she wore a smile that was completely genuine. Mattie smiled back halfheartedly and then turned to go into the briefing room, Robo at her heels.
Brody and Johnson were already there, seated at one of the Formica-topped tables. Mattie took a seat at the far end of a different table, across the room from them.
“Lie down,” she said to Robo in a quiet voice, pointing to the floor. He circled once and lay down next to her feet.
“Hey,” Johnson greeted her.
Mattie nodded, picked up a flier that summarized the latest regional bulletins, and started to read. Sheriff McCoy entered the room soon after, shadowed by a petite woman with highlighted hair the color of dark honey and a knockout figure. With a gallant gesture, McCoy indicated a seat up front for the woman as he stepped to the podium.
“This is Detective Stella LoSasso from Byers County.” McCoy gestured toward the woman. “She’ll be handling this investigation. As I believe you may all know by now, our victim’s name is Grace Hartman. Detective LoSasso will interview her parents later this morning. But first, Deputy Cobb, I want you to take her up to the crime scene, and you two go over it with a fine-tooth comb. Use the dog.”
“Yes, sir,” Mattie said.
Detective LoSasso turned and swept her with a searching gaze. Mattie nodded in acknowledgment while the detective lifted her head slightly. Mattie felt as if she’d been given the once over but had no idea if she’d passed inspection.
“I’ll summarize what we know so far,” McCoy said. “The dog that we found at the crime scene had eight balloons filled with cocaine in her belly.”
“Wow,” Johnson muttered.
Brody gave him a look meant to squelch further comments.
“The rig that Ranger Benson spotted up there belongs to Mike Chadron, and we’ve put out a BOLO for it,” McCoy said. “Mr. Hartman told me last night that Grace was driving a dark red Honda CR-V, and I’ve put out a BOLO for that vehicle as well. I believe the car could be hidden somewhere in the mountains near the crime scene. Ranger Benson will organize a search for it. Deputy Brody, tell us what you found at Mike Chadron’s place.”
Brody cleared his throat. “Basically nothing. I went there last night and again this morning, but he’s gone. His rig and his dogs are gone, too.”
McCoy nodded. “I want you to put together a warrant request to search his place. See if you can get Judge Taylor to sign off on it this morning.”
“All right,” Brody said.
“Deputy Cobb found out last night that the veterinarian’s daughter is one of our victim’s friends.” McCoy looked at Mattie. “Did you arrange a meeting to interview Dr. Walker’s daughter?”
“I notified Dr. Walker of the death late last night. But his daughter got sick with food poisoning from eating at Clucken House during the night, so he doesn’t plan to tell her until this morning.”
“I heard about the outbreak,” McCoy said.
“He’s agreed to let us interview the girl after he’s had a chance to tell her about her friend’s death. I’m supposed to call later and set it up.”
“All right. You and
the detective can set up an appointment after you finish at the crime scene. Deputy Brody, you get to work on that warrant. Deputy Johnson, you take patrol.” McCoy straightened and swept the group with piercing eyes. “Now let’s get to work and bring this child killer to justice.”
Chapter 9
Carrying her briefcase, Detective LoSasso rounded the patrol car and headed toward the passenger side. Mattie noticed that the men watched the attractive woman even while they walked over to their own vehicles. She hoped one of them would trip over his tongue.
LoSasso’s civilian clothing, tight black slacks and a turquoise blouse nipped in at the waist, emphasized her hourglass figure. Mattie couldn’t help but feel frumpy in her khaki uniform, a feeling that surprised her. Usually, she wouldn’t even notice, much less bother to care.
She secured Robo in the back area of the cruiser and then took her place in the driver’s seat, reaching for her patrol log to make a notation of the time.
“Are you the only woman in the department?” LoSasso asked as she found her seatbelt and pulled it across her lap.
Mattie looked at her, noticing that in the bright sunlight, the detective looked older than she’d originally thought. Lines were etched around her eyes and the corners of her mouth. LoSasso slipped on her sunglasses, brushing back a strand of highlighted hair that had fallen forward against her cheek.
“Rainbow Anderson, our dispatcher, is the only other woman that works weekends,” Mattie said. “There are others who do office work during the week.”
Detective LoSasso sniffed. “That bit of fluff doesn’t really qualify. I meant, are you the only female deputy?”
Mattie resisted the urge to defend Rainbow. She thought LoSasso was acting like a snob, but after all, Rainbow did appear a bit fluffy today. Hell, Rainbow looked fluffy almost every day. Mattie turned the key and the car’s engine roared to life. “Yes, I’m the only female deputy in the department.”
“How long have you worked K-9?”
“About three weeks on the job. I just finished training. But I’ve been on the force more than seven years.”
LoSasso pursed her salmon-colored lips, turning her face away to gaze out the windshield.
Killing Trail: A Timber Creek K-9 Mystery Page 6
