Stalking Ground

by Margaret Mizushima

  Mattie glanced at the clock. Twelve thirty. They were still on Daylight Savings Time, so the sun would set around six thirty. Twilight might last for another hour if they were lucky. Brody’s silver and blue cruiser appeared between the trees. She’d reached the right spot.

  As she pulled up behind Brody’s cruiser, she could see Adrienne’s charcoal-colored Escape. And it looked like Brody and Johnson had already been all over it. The front doors and hatch back were open. Johnson stepped back from where he’d been searching inside the back compartment and straightened his long, lean form to full height to wave at her. In his bulky winter jacket and cap with earflaps, the rookie looked like a kid. A kid who happened to be six foot two.

  Mattie gave him a frown instead of a wave. She might not be able to reprimand Chief Deputy Brody for sullying her scent trails, but she could let the rook know he’d done wrong. Since the pullout could hold only the two vehicles that were in it, she parked on the road, set her emergency brake, and exited the SUV, taking her heavy coat with her. Arctic air hit her broadside, chilling her body immediately. She pulled on her coat while she walked to join her fellow deputies.

  “I hope you haven’t disturbed a scent trail,” she said to Johnson by way of greeting.

  Brody exited the back seat of the car. His head was uncovered, his coat unzipped, and his face haunted and hollow. “We’ve got to get a move on this, Cobb. We’re running out of time.”

  “Not a time to skip protocol, Chief,” she said. “Did you find anything useful in there?”

  “Nothing. It’s clean. No blood stains in front or back.”

  His reply spoke volumes about what he feared most. “How about her cell phone?”

  “No. There’s nothing in here except the car’s documents and manuals in the glove box and her music and a few personal items in the console. Her jacket’s in the back seat.”

  “Great. Leave that right where it is and don’t touch it. I’ll use it for a scent article.” She turned to go back to her Explorer.

  Robo was watching for her out the side window of his compartment, and he bounced on his front feet when she approached. Mattie grinned at him, his excitement contagious. She opened up the door and he bailed out, prancing beside her, eyes locked onto hers.

  “Do you want to go to work?” She began the patter she used to rev him up, and he almost levitated in his happiness. After giving him some water to moisten his mucus membranes and increase his scenting ability, she put on his blue nylon tracking harness and matching work collar. He stood at attention, allowing her to adjust his equipment. When Robo finished getting dressed for work, he settled into his responsibilities immediately. It happened that way every time. He watched her while she put on her own equipment, a utility belt filled with her supplies.

  Robo walked beside her as they approached, while Brody and Johnson stood at the rear of the car, giving her space to work on the driver’s side. She put Adrienne’s lightweight jacket into a plastic bag and lowered it so Robo could sniff. He thrust his nose into the bag, getting full value for his effort.

  “Search,” she told him.

  He quartered the area near the car, nose to the ground, head moving back and forth. He searched for several minutes, covering the area of the pullout, the road next to the car, and up and down the roadside for about thirty feet in each direction. He came back to sniff the area more thoroughly, as if double-checking his work. He trotted to the open door on the driver’s side, touched the seat with his mouth, and then sat and looked up at Mattie.

  “What’s wrong with him?” Brody asked.

  Brody could be a butthead at times, and she was used to biting her tongue to keep the peace. But she wouldn’t let him criticize her partner. “There’s nothing wrong with him. He’s telling me that he’s picking up her scent on the driver’s seat.”

  “Well, what the fuck? Why isn’t he showing us the direction she went from here?”

  Mattie felt her patience slip. “It might be because you two tromped around and jacked up the scent trail. Give us a minute.”

  She stroked Robo’s head, smoothing the fur between his ears and telling him he was a good boy. She snapped the leash onto his tracking harness and led him about fifteen feet away from the car, checking wind direction as she went. The area was somewhat sheltered by the surrounding forest and a rock face positioned toward the northwest, but gusts continuously stirred the air from both the west and north as if the rock face split and funneled them.

  This trail would probably be forty-eight hours old by now and torn up by the wind. Her only hope would be that epithelial cells left by Adrienne would remain trapped in the forest undergrowth beyond the road. Of one thing she was certain: if a scent trail existed out here, Robo would find it.

  She led her dog into the forest and started working upwind, quartering back and forth, offering him the scent article, although she knew he probably didn’t need it. Adrienne’s scent would be locked in Robo’s memory for the rest of his life. When he didn’t identify a trail on the upwind side of the car, they started searching downwind.

  A dreadful feeling began to build inside Mattie and after an hour, it reached its peak. She paused to reevaluate, knowing that Robo needed a break and some water. Her owns legs had grown tired from following him over the rugged terrain that surrounded the car. As she patted Robo to let him know he was doing his work right, she spotted two riders coming up the logging road. They must have left their truck and trailer down below instead of risking getting stuck up here. Believing that one rider might be Cole, her mood lifted slightly, and she decided to go back to the car.

  She needed to tell Brody what she was thinking, and it wouldn’t be easy news to share. She reached the car about the same time as the riders. She recognized that one of them was Cole. He’d been watching her, and he met her gaze. He wore a serious expression, which she knew matched hers. She wanted to tell him how glad she was to see him, but all she could do was nod. He returned the greeting the same way.

  Brody stood next to the other rider whom she could see now was Garrett Hartman. She and Hartman nodded at each other, too.

  “Well?” Brody said, his voice gruff and demanding.

  “There’s no scent trail out here,” she told him. “I don’t think Adrienne has been in this area. At least not in the last couple of days.”

  “What do you mean? Her car’s here.”

  “If there was a scent trail leading away from the car, Robo would have found it. There’s no hiking trail in this area, so I don’t think she came here to go hiking. I think we need to seal this car and get prints off it.” Stating her thoughts filled her with trepidation. “I think someone else ditched the car here, Brody.”

  He stared at her for a moment and then turned away to stare at the storm clouds piled high on top of each other, filling the sky. “The wind must have destroyed the scent trail. She’s got to be up here. I just know it. She might be hurt. Johnson, take the cruiser down where you can get contact with the sheriff. Have him go ahead and send the search party. We need hikers that can cover this area.”

  “Johnson needs to print the car. I don’t think we should employ a search party. If Robo can’t find a trail, it means she wasn’t up here,” Mattie said.

  “That dog can’t smell shit. Get going, Johnson.” Brody glared at her. “You print the damn car, Cobb.”

  Johnson went to the cruiser.

  She wished Cole and Mr. Hartman weren’t here to witness, but she would speak her piece. “You know what Robo is capable of.” She was referring to the day Robo found Grace Hartman’s body, and she knew that everyone present realized it.

  Johnson started the cruiser’s engine and began to maneuver the car to turn it. Mattie glanced at Cole, and he nodded his agreement. Mr. Hartman’s face sagged in lines of sorrow. She looked back at Brody, reading desperation in his eyes.

  “I won’t give up yet, Brody. Let me give Robo a break while I print the car, and then we’ll search this area again. Do either of you
have tracking skills?” Mattie asked the riders.

  “A little,” Cole said while Garrett said, “Yes, I do.”

  “If you’d cover the area behind me and search for signs, maybe you’ll see something.” She knew it would be wasted effort, but she wanted to be thorough. And Brody wasn’t able to give up yet.

  “I’ll print the car,” Brody growled, giving the cloud bank one more baleful glance. “I need you and Robo on the mountain. When I’m done, I’ll follow you up.”

  “All right,” Mattie said. When Sheriff McCoy arrived, he would take over command. For now, she would do things Brody’s way.

  Chapter 7

  Saturday

  Lying on his side, Cole awakened in total darkness. Muscles that were unused to riding horseback nagged at him to move. Groaning quietly, he rolled onto his back to check the clock. The red digits said 5:47. After returning from the search for Adrienne, he’d opened his clinic to see patients, so he hadn’t made it to bed until late. He felt wide-awake now, though, and he doubted he’d be able to go back to sleep.

  Hard as everyone searched, they’d found no sign of the missing woman. The volunteer mountain rescue team consisted of about fifteen folks, men and women, all skilled in hunting, tracking, and navigating the wilderness without getting lost. They’d scoured the area the best they could, although the rugged terrain might still hide a hiker who’d fallen from a cliff and been injured. Or worse yet, killed.

  He understood Mattie’s theory that someone else ditched the car. He also understood what that could mean, even though the law enforcement officers had been pretty tight-lipped. There’d been no discussion in front of the volunteers. But it didn’t take a rocket scientist to conclude that Adrienne might be the victim of foul play. It pained him to think of it. It had pained Garrett, too, and he’d noticed his friend’s face become more and more grim as the afternoon toiled into evening.

  He believed that the strung-out deputy in charge—the one they called Brody—might be too close to the case. He’d taken a moment, when they were far enough away from the car, to ask Mattie about Brody’s relationship with Adrienne. She’d forced out the word “boyfriend” as if she hated to give up anything, and he didn’t press her for more; she’d tell him what she could, when she could.

  He admired the way Mattie handled the situation, working Robo in concentric circles, going farther out from the car each time, trying to pick up a scent trail. He’d been busy at his own task of trying to find a sign, but he’d caught glimpses of her through the trees, she and her dog moving together as if they were one. He’d never watched them work before. He respected her skill as a handler . . . and her stamina. He’d hate to guess how many miles of terrain those two covered before sundown. And thank goodness the sheriff had taken over when he arrived, or they’d probably all still be out there with flashlights, searching for someone that Cole, like Mattie, believed had never been in the area.

  He stifled another groan as he moved his sore legs to get out of bed. Might as well get up. Even though it was Saturday, he’d rescheduled clients from yesterday and filled the morning. He showered and shaved and went downstairs at about six thirty. He was surprised to find Mrs. Gibbs in the kitchen.

  “You’re up early,” he said, noticing the coffee pot was full and hot, and he headed that way to pour himself a cup. “You should feel free to sleep in on the weekends. The girls will, and I can fend for myself. They can, too, for that matter.”

  “Oh, I’m an early riser, I am. And I might as well make myself useful.” She was whipping up eggs to pour in a skillet that was warming on the stove.

  “I do appreciate a hot breakfast, but I don’t want you to feel like you have to be working all the time.”

  “I’ll keep it in mind when I need to take a break.”

  As far as he could tell, the woman possessed a deep well of energy for someone her age. He popped a couple slices of bread into the toaster. “How many pieces of toast do you want?” he asked.

  “I can make me own toast, thank you.”

  He started to say he didn’t mind, and then decided not. No reason to force the issue. They each needed to be able to do what they wanted in the kitchen without pushing at each other.

  “I need to talk to you about Angela,” she said.

  He checked her face and saw her frowning at the eggs she stirred in the skillet. This wasn’t going to be good. “All right.”

  “I’m concerned about her. She was very quiet after we left Mrs. Hartman yesterday afternoon. When I asked if something was bothering her, she told me to mind me own business. Said I weren’t her mum so keep me nose to myself, or something like that.”

  Ugh. “I’ll talk to her. She should be more respectful.”

  “No. No, I don’t want that. It’s her version of kicking the dog, and I can handle it myself, at least for now. But I’m worried about her. She’s been dealt a lot for a youngster to handle. Sophie told me how their mum doesn’t want to see them anymore and about losing Angela’s friend this summer.”

  He bet Sophie had; he wondered what else the girl had told her new listener. Cole kept silent, thinking about what he should do.

  “She’s had a hard time of it,” Mrs. Gibbs said.

  “Yes, but that doesn’t mean she can be disrespectful to people.”

  Mrs. Gibbs gave him the look a mother gives a child who’s said the wrong thing. “It will work itself out between us. I’m just telling you this so you can think about the girl. See if there’s a way you can help her work through these things. They’re not ready to be brushed under the carpet yet.”

  Cole waited while she scooped scrambled eggs onto his plate to sit beside the toast. He was glad she had some insight into the behavior of kids. Girls especially. He often felt like a bumbling first-year vet student when it came to trying to figure out his daughters, though he hoped to get better at it as fast as he could. “I’ll think about it. And I’ll work out a time to talk to her.”

  “But don’t mention we had this conversation. That wouldn’t be good.”

  She must think she has to spell it out for me. Well, maybe she does. “Mum’s the word.”

  He bolted his breakfast in silence, hoping to get out of there before any more troubles could be aired. Saying good-bye, he left to go to his clinic, where he usually could keep things relatively within his control.

  *

  Mattie woke before the alarm. She peeked at Robo from under the cover she’d drawn over her head to combat the cold of the room. In the gray light that filtered through the window, she saw him curled up on his dog bed, still asleep. Typically, he’d be up, pressing his nose against her, ready to go for his run. Not today. He’d had enough exercise yesterday to curb his energy for a while.

  She nestled back under Mama T’s handmade quilt, hoping to go back to sleep. But Adrienne came into her mind, and her stomach clenched. This must be how Brody had been feeling all along. She was sure now that the woman hadn’t left town willingly, and she doubted if kidnapping was a reasonable option. No one would take the time to dump a car way up in that isolated spot if he was on the run with a kidnapped person.

  She was afraid Adrienne had been killed.

  Someone was covering up a crime, trying to mislead them. If she didn’t trust Robo so much, she might’ve fallen for it herself. But she knew in her heart, even after the first time around the car, that Adrienne had never been up in that forest. She also knew that she couldn’t give up before Brody was thoroughly exhausted with the search. Thank goodness Sheriff McCoy had been there to call it.

  She sensed the moment Robo raised his head and then heard his nails against the hardwood floor as he got out of bed. Smiling under the cover, she heard the little squeak he made when he yawned. This time when she peeked out, his nose rested on the edge of the bed and he was watching her. As soon as she lifted her head from the pillow, he grinned and trotted toward the door, stopping to look back and inviting her to follow. Maybe he didn’t get too much exercise yesterday.


  “Do you need to go outside?” she asked, sending him into a tizzy as he rushed through the doorway. One thing about a dog like Robo—you never needed an alarm in the morning.

  Mattie pulled on a pair of sweats, shoved her feet into her warmest slippers, and grabbed a coat on her way through the living room. She let Robo out the kitchen door into the backyard and stepped outside onto the porch to watch him, the frigid air pinching her nose. Still no snow, and the wind’s stopped.

  Last summer, a killer had tried to poison Robo. And even though the perp was in prison and the county had installed razor wire above the chain link fence around the yard, Mattie still watched her dog circle it each morning and in the afternoon when they returned from work.

  After he did his business, Robo came inside and Mattie fed him. She flipped on the radio for a weather report while she fixed her own breakfast. “This storm seems to have blown itself out, and the snow we were expecting has settled in the northern mountains of our state. The southern mountains can expect some snow activity by tonight, although not as much as previously expected. Probably about three inches above nine thousand feet. Lower elevations may have to wait until the next storm front for the first snow of the season.”

  She switched off the radio and decided to get dressed and go to work early. She wouldn’t be surprised if the others did the same.

  At the station, Brody and the sheriff had already parked their vehicles. Inside, she found that Rainbow hadn’t yet come on duty. She went to the staff office, grabbed her first cup of coffee, and searched for the others, Robo tagging along beside her. She found them in the briefing room where she thought they’d be.

  Sheriff McCoy nodded a greeting. “Glad you came in early. We were discussing what to do next.”

  Brody sat slumped, and he and the sheriff wore matching steely expressions. Mattie pulled up a chair and sat at the table. Robo sat close to her, and she placed a hand on his shoulders. “Let’s talk about our car scene,” McCoy said.