Stalking Ground

by Margaret Mizushima

  Bruno lunged into view a mere ten feet below. They locked eyes for several scary seconds. The dog snarled and barked, scrambling at the bottom of the ledge in search of a way up.

  Now what?

  Don’t panic.

  The Doberman scrabbled at the loose shale, sending rocks sliding to the bottom of the cliff, taking him partway down with them. He continued to bark as he got up and tried again, this time gaining some ground.

  Cole scanned the forest. Still nothing.

  I’ve got to do something to stop this barking. He remembered how Bruno had reacted to Sophie’s baby talk. He tried to imitate Sophie’s sweet talk to the best of his ability. “Hey Bruno. Guter hund. Guten morgen, Bruno. Guten hund,” he called, most likely butchering the translations of ‘good dog’ and ‘good morning’ but doing the best he could. Hopefully the dog wouldn’t care about proper syntax or what time of day it happened to be.

  Cole kept up the chatter for almost a full minute before Bruno stopped barking. By this time, he’d scrambled back to the base of the ledge. He stopped for a moment, giving Cole his full attention, ears pricked.

  Hardly daring to hope, Cole continued to talk to the dog, alternating between a soothing voice and baby talk. Bruno stared at him, his amber eyes unblinking.

  Cole’s attempt to say “good boy” seemed to make a difference. Doggie confusion came into Bruno’s expression, and he whined—a single, confused utterance.

  Encouraged, Cole stood and showed Bruno the palms of his hands. “Das is gut, Bruno,” he repeated, trying to keep the urgency he was starting to feel out of his voice.

  He wracked his brain for what to do next. He decided to try a command. “Bruno, sitz!”

  The Dobie tucked his tail and sat, looking up at Cole expectantly, ears pricked.

  Where is a dog treat when I need one!

  Taking slow and cautious steps, Cole moved from behind his shelter and began to inch his way down the cliff face, hanging on to shrubs and branches for balance. All the time, he babbled in German, saying any words that came to mind heavily interspersed with “good boy.”

  Bruno watched him, now looking more curious than confused. Cole tamped down his fear as he drew closer to the dog, because he knew the animal could sense it. Instead, he thought of Sophie’s lighthearted trust and tried to duplicate it. When he reached a prominence directly above the dog, he tried a different command. “Bruno, platz.”

  The Doberman went into a down position.

  What is the word for stay? He couldn’t remember. Falling back on the tried and true, he repeated the word for ‘down’ as he continued to ease his way along the rocky cliff. Each step on his swollen ankle sent jolts, but he kept going and soon was on an equal level with the dog, about eight feet away. Bruno watched him without waver, looking eager and expectant. Cole decided he needed to give the dog some form of reward, because it looked like that was what he obviously wanted.

  “Komm,” Cole said, at the same time using the hand gesture for “come.” “Komm hier!”

  Bruno leaped to his feet and ran straight at him, causing Cole to almost go into cardiac arrest. But the Doberman scurried to sit right in front of his feet and looked up into his eyes with excitement. Cole bent forward and extended a hand for Bruno to sniff. The dog dismissed it, still eagerly waiting for a treat. Cole stroked the top of his head and then patted his side.

  Giving Bruno lots of loving strokes and crooning to the dog in German, Cole gingerly reached for the e-collar and slipped it off. Bruno showed no objection whatsoever. Looking up at the perch on the cliff that he’d abandoned, Cole heaved the collar up toward the ledge. The collar bounced off the rock face, skittered downward, and lodged in the branches of scrub cedar—unseen from below.

  Couldn’t be better. He patted the dog and hugged him close to his leg, telling him what a good boy he was. He scanned the forest, feeling the urgency of desperation. Befriending Bruno was a major accomplishment, but he still had Carmen and that crossbow to contend with. Deciding to head across slope opposite the direction from which Bruno had come, Cole patted his left leg. “Bruno, ferse.”

  Bruno fell into heel position as Cole finished the last descent and jogged off as fast as his swollen ankle would allow.

  *

  When Robo stopped at the edge of the stream and sniffed up and down its bank, Mattie knew that Cole had taken to the water. That’s exactly what she would have done if she were in his shoes. Robo leaped over the water and sniffed along the bank on the other side, tentatively heading upstream. It was the first time he’d hesitated since he’d taken to Cole’s trail. Robo nosed the foliage along the bank, tracking Cole’s scent slowly and carefully upslope. She hoped his effort to mask his route had been enough to throw the Doberman off his trail.

  Although she grew impatient to move forward at a faster pace, Mattie let Robo do his work. He continued to give the tall grass a thorough sniff as they moved upward. At times willows and boulders blocked their path, forcing Mattie and Brody to circle around or enter the stream. Robo either edged along the stream or took to the water. When he splashed into the creek, she followed him, the frigid liquid filling her boots and numbing her feet. Brody stayed close at her back.

  They toiled upward. Her breath quickened, and she could hear Brody heaving for air behind her. Robo worked the trail, seeming more and more sure of himself. After what felt like a lifetime, they came upon a dead deer with a short, metal arrow lodged in its rib cage behind its front shoulder. The ugly bolt matched the one in Juan Fiero. Gooseflesh tingled along her spine, and it wasn’t from the icy water that squelched in her boots.

  Robo continued upstream but then turned to go back, sniffing furiously along both sides of the bank.

  He’s lost the trail. And Cole must have left the water. Trying to think like Cole, she scanned the banks for tracks. Nothing in the rocky shale. Robo must have had the same idea, but he was using his nose, sniffing in widening arcs that brought him over to the decomposing deer. He scurried back and forth with his nose to the ground, moving away from the water. Soon, he headed across slope with greater determination. Mattie and Brody filed into place behind him.

  They trooped along, Robo picking up speed. She assumed the scent trail had become stronger here. They jogged through stands of timber and across open spaces. Mattie snatched glances of the surrounding terrain even while she watched her step, placing her feet carefully to avoid ankle-turning stones. They were approaching a cliff face when she noticed the hackles at Robo’s neck rise.

  “Robo, wait,” she said in a quiet voice.

  He stopped in place, throwing a glance at her over his shoulder. She could swear he was asking, What for?

  Brody stopped a mere twelve inches behind her. “What?” he said, matching her quiet tone.

  Mattie spoke in a near whisper. “Robo’s hackles are raised. He knows Cole Walker. I don’t think he’d do that with him. There must be someone else ahead on the trail. Proceed with caution.”

  Brody was already holding his rifle ready. “Right.”

  “Robo, search.” Mattie followed him as he lowered his nose to the scent trail.

  Through the pine, she spotted a small clearing with a cliff face beyond. Robo pushed forward, his neck bristling. She placed a hand on his Kevlar vest, grabbing hold of a strap sewed to its back, and slowed him down. She wanted to avoid breaking out into the open space without seeing what it contained first.

  Brody stayed at her back, slightly to the side. “There,” he whispered. Evidently his height and position made it possible to spot something. Crouching, he pointed.

  Mattie reacted at once, getting low and stepping to the side. She peered through a break in the trees in the direction Brody indicated. Carmen Santiago stood at the base of the cliff face pointing a wicked looking crossbow up at it, a bolt loaded and ready to shoot. Mattie scanned the area above Carmen but could see nothing.

  Carmen raised a hand holding an oblong object and pointed it upward toward the ledge.
>
  “What’s that?” Brody whispered.

  “Looks like a remote for a dog collar,” she whispered back.

  “What’s she doing?”

  “I don’t know. Where’s the dog?”

  “I don’t see him.”

  “She must have lost him,” Mattie whispered, watching Carmen continuously press and repress a button on the remote. “She’s signaling him. She thinks he’s up there.”

  Brody straightened and scanned the area, stooping low again when he finished. “I don’t see a dog.”

  “Do you know anything about that crossbow?”

  “They’re powerful. No safety. She can sight down the scope and pull the trigger in a split second.”

  “Reloads easily?”

  “No. It would take some effort. Might take fifteen seconds,” Brody said.

  “Do you think she has a gun?”

  “Can’t tell.”

  Mattie locked eyes with Brody for a few seconds. “I want to take her alive. She’s got a lot of questions to answer.”

  “Agreed.” His face was grim. “But I won’t let her take another life.”

  Mattie nodded. Brody could easily hit a target with his rifle at up to one hundred yards. The use of deadly force would be permissible if Carmen was trying to kill one of them, including Robo. Would he jump at the chance to take out the woman who killed his girlfriend?

  Removing her handgun from its holster, she whispered instructions. “Let’s split up and go in from two directions. You take seven o’clock and I’ll take five. Avoid each other’s line of fire.”

  He nodded. “I’ll draw her fire. You’ll have about a fifteen-second window to take her down.”

  He started to turn away, but Mattie grasped his forearm to stop him. “Be careful, Brody.”

  “You too.”

  She turned off to the right, whispering to Robo to heel and seeking the five o’clock position to home in on the cliff face. Robo stayed close as she crept through the forest, using trees and boulders as cover when she could. She’d recovered her breath during their brief stop, and it came evenly. Her senses sharpened. The wind sighed through boughs overhead, and dead pine needles crackled beneath her feet.

  Mattie crept close enough to Carmen so that she could see her clearly. The woman’s black hair had been pulled from its braid, messy strands floating around her head. She stood at the bottom of the incline, her back to Mattie and her hand raised to shield her eyes from the setting sun. She studied the cliff face above, holding her crossbow ready.

  Mattie searched for Cole in the rocks, but could see no sign of him. She decided to get even closer.

  Cover became sparse as she moved to the edge of the clearing, but by now she estimated she was only about thirty feet away from the woman. Robo danced at her heel, ready to lunge forward. Grateful that his training held to remain silent, she gripped the strap on his vest to keep him close. She scanned the seven o’clock position but couldn’t see Brody. He would be well hidden, and she didn’t waste time looking for him. She assumed he would be in place.

  Mattie waited, her breaths coming in short bursts despite her trying to slow them.

  “Carmen Santiago!” Brody shouted from off to her left.

  Carmen pivoted, training her bow in his direction. But she didn’t fire. She crouched and sidestepped behind a boulder at the base of the cliff—still armed.

  The boulder sheltered Carmen from Mattie’s vision. Does she have a gun? A gun would be a huge factor.

  “Lay down your weapon!” Brody called. “Come out with both hands raised where I can see them.”

  Robo tried to surge forward, but Mattie held him back. “Heel,” she whispered. “Steady.” She felt it critical that Carmen didn’t know she and her partner were there. Surprise on their part would make all the difference. Robo settled beside her.

  “Why are you threatening me?” Carmen called out.

  “I’m here to arrest you for the murder of Adrienne Howard,” Brody shouted.

  Mattie looked for him, but still couldn’t see him. Evidently Carmen couldn’t either.

  Carmen gave a sharp laugh. “I had nothing to do with that. You should talk to my hired man, Juan Fiero.”

  “Well . . .” Brody said, drawing out the syllable. “I’ve done that already. He’s alive and talking.”

  Silence fell over the clearing, and Mattie wished she could see the woman. Then Carmen backed cautiously, crossbow held ready, keeping the boulder between herself and Brody but coming into Mattie’s view. She could see the camouflage pattern and black scope on the bow. She couldn’t count on Robo’s Kevlar to protect him from the deadly bolt. She waited, Robo straining against his vest. She didn’t know how much longer she could keep him from barking.

  Evidently Brody grew tired of the wait. He stepped out from behind the trees, showing himself at the edge of the clearing. He held his rifle pointed at the sky.

  “Come out and let’s talk,” he said. “We’ll both put down our weapons.”

  Carmen rounded the boulder, sighting through her scope as she came. A heavy clunk vibrated through the clearing as she shot the bolt. Brody fell.

  Heart racing, Mattie sent her dog. “Robo, take her.”

  Robo streaked across the thirty-foot clearing like unleashed fury. Carmen turned, while he leaped at the arm that held the bow and clasped it in his jaws. His momentum sent them both tumbling down into the rocky shale, Robo on top. Without releasing his bite, he leapt off the woman and stretched her out, dragging her away from the crossbow. Carmen’s screams and Robo’s terrible snarls echoed off the cliff.

  Mattie charged toward the two of them. She pounced on Carmen’s back, feeling satisfaction when she heard the wind whoosh out of her. Robo continued to tug while she grasped Carmen’s free hand and pulled it behind her back.

  “Surrender,” she told Carmen, “and I’ll call off the dog.”

  With a curse, Carmen quit struggling.

  “Robo, out!” She waited for Robo to drop her captive’s arm. “Guard!”

  Robo loomed over Carmen’s head, saliva dripping from his jaws.

  “Don’t move, or he’ll go after you again,” Mattie said as she secured Carmen’s other arm behind her back.

  She started to reach for the cuffs that were secured to her utility belt, but Brody came up from behind with his. Mattie snapped the steel cuffs into place, looking up with relief at Brody but seeing the blood trickling down his forehead. “You’re hit,” she said.

  “Shit,” he muttered, gingerly touching a wound on his forehead. “More like I hit the ground.”

  Mattie shook her head. You’re crazy, she thought, but kept the words to herself. Letting Robo stay in guard position, she stood and stepped away from her captive. The woman was no longer struggling. “You ready?” she asked Brody.

  “Yup.”

  She released Robo and called him to her side.

  Brody bent and grasped Carmen’s upper arm, his firm grip apparent even to Mattie. “On your knees,” he told her in a gruff voice.

  “I have political asylum,” she said, struggling to get up on her knees. “You can’t arrest me.”

  “Watch me. Stand up now,” Brody growled as he pulled her up. He proceeded to arrest her for Adrienne’s murder and read her the Miranda rights.

  Mattie wondered why the woman thought she’d have immunity and hoped there’d be no problem prosecuting her. The only proof they had that Carmen Santiago had killed Adrienne was the word of a migrant worker. She hoped Adrienne’s laptop contained something even more damning.

  Mattie took her first aid kit from her utility belt and handed Brody a sterile gauze pad. “Will you be okay?” she asked. “I need to find Cole Walker.”

  “I’m fine,” he said, pressing the gauze to his wound. “Go ahead and track him. I’ll take her down to the barn. Call on the walkie-talkie if you need help.”

  Mattie gave him a short salute and turned to go, patting Robo and telling him he was a good boy. “But we’r
e not done yet,” she said, withdrawing Cole’s hat from the utility belt and giving Robo a sniff. She lowered her hand and used a sweeping gesture to indicate the ground.

  It took only a few seconds for Robo to pick up the trail, and he followed it across the slope. She heard Brody tell Carmen to walk as she hurried to keep up with her dog. Robo appeared confident, tail waving and happy, while he led Mattie through the forest. Soon, she realized that Cole must be headed for the main road. After about fifteen minutes, she came to the edge of a small clearing and caught a glimpse of him disappearing into the trees on the other side. A large black dog walked beside him. The Doberman.

  Such a great sense of relief flowed through her that it was almost overpowering. Breaking into a run, she shouted. “Cole! Cole, it’s Mattie.”

  He reappeared through the pine, and the exuberant grin that she’d grown so fond of lit his face. He dropped the branch he was using for a walking stick and limped toward her, his arms extended. “Mattie! Thank goodness you found me.”

  She stepped into his arms, and he wrapped her in a hug so tight it took her breath away. Her face came to the level of his chest, and her cheek pressed against the stiff fabric of his coverall. When she inhaled, he smelled of mud and horse and sweat. She held him in a firm embrace and realized that she never wanted to let go. He pressed his lips to the top of her head.

  She tried to pull away, but Cole tightened his grip. She let him hold her while she fought the tumult their closeness triggered. When Cole gradually released her, she took a step back and glanced around, looking anywhere but at this man she now knew she loved.

  Cole touched her face with a gentle finger, his gaze showing his concern. “What happened to your eye, Mattie?”

  She gave him a fleeting glance. “It’s nothing. I got in the way of a flying elbow.”

  He opened his mouth to continue, but the Doberman she’d last seen chained in front of the barn was bouncing at their feet, bowing into a “let’s play” position for Robo who was trying his best to ignore him.