“There’s still plenty of black skeletons,” Angie called back from in front. She’d worn an olive green baseball cap to protect her fair skin from the sun, and her blond ponytail swung out the open notch at the back.
“There are still some skeletons.” Cole passed one of the hollowed out, blackened trunks, settling in his saddle as their horses climbed upward on a lesser grade.
Since talk was difficult, they rode in silence for a bit, the rocky trail winding through the evergreens, their horses’ shod hooves clicking against stones. Bruno trotted beside them, occasionally loping ahead but always returning. The pecking sound from a woodpecker echoed through the still forest, a balm to the soul. Cole’s back loosened as he swayed in the saddle, the sun warming his shoulders.
He wished Mattie had come with them. He’d thought she was going to say yes when he invited her, but after telling her he planned to round up a string of horses for them to ride, she’d begun to look apprehensive.
He smiled as he thought of her, a small package of dynamite with twice the power. Deputy Mattie Cobb with her intense, brown eyes and dark hair. He’d believed she wasn’t afraid of anything, but he was beginning to suspect that her fearlessness didn’t apply to horseback riding. In the end, she’d declined going on their trail ride, saying she needed to spend time with her foster mother on her day off.
An occasional clump of young aspen shot up toward the cloudless blue sky. Spring leaves, bright green and as yet unblemished by summer dryness, quivered at the ends of branches, their spade-like shape seeming to catch even the slightest of breezes.
“Look at the aspen leaves, girls. They’re dancing.”
Sophie tilted her head back and watched the leaves while she rode through the grove, and Cole watched her to make sure she didn’t get dizzy and lose her balance. Briefly, he regretted saying anything to distract her from paying attention to her seat, but she righted herself soon enough, and he relaxed his vigilance.
When Angie topped the rise, she reined Mountaineer to the side of the trail and pulled him to a halt. “Take a look at this.”
“Oh, wow!” Sophie said as she rode up beside Angie.
Cole angled Duke to the left of Sophie. In a meadow covered with bright green grass lay a carpet of red and pink blossoms. A soft breeze tossed the tiny, bright colored flowers back and forth on their stems. Heading into the wind, Bruno streaked through the foliage, his glossy black coat creating a brilliant contrast against the red flowers.
“That’s fireweed,” Cole said. “Sometimes it grows thick in burn areas like this. It helps hold the soil and prevents it from washing away.”
“It’s gorgeous,” Angie said.
“Do the sheep eat it?” Sophie asked.
“They could, but I bet they prefer the grass.” On the other side of the meadow, the solid cliff face and rocky spires that made up Redstone Ridge towered over the evergreen forest. Cole gazed upward, searching the rocks and boulders, and noticed movement at the top. “Look, girls.”
A bighorn ram with impressive curled horns scrambled to the top of a red-colored granite promontory and stood, apparently observing the human intruders from his perch. A group of four females, part of the ram’s harem, were scattered on various outcroppings below him, one with a small kid at her side.
Cole let out a quiet “huh” as the sight confirmed a thought that he’d expressed earlier to Ed Lovejoy, one of the wildlife managers. There would be ewes and babies to keep together during the relocation, and no pair should be broken up. Ed had assured him they would target younger animals to transfer and leave the pairs alone.
“Look at the baby,” Sophie squealed.
Cole unsnapped the leather case holding his binoculars and fished them out, then swung his leg over his horse’s rump to dismount. “Let’s get off here and stretch our legs. You guys can get a better look through these field glasses.”
After tying their horses to trees, they spent the next few minutes passing the glasses around, adjusting the eyepieces to the different sizes of their faces, and learning how to zoom in on the sheep. Sophie giggled with delight as she watched the tiny lamb hop from rock to boulder, while the more-reserved Angie smiled with contentment.
He couldn’t tell which made the bigger splash, the big horned ram with the full curl or the tiny but sure-footed baby who could keep up with its mom despite the rocky terrain.
When Cole focused in on the ram, he noticed a fully healed, jagged scar on his right shoulder. In his mind’s eye, he pictured the deadly force created when two rams collided, locking horns until one skidded off and then backing up to explode toward each other and crash heads again. He wondered how many battles this old guy had fought in his lifetime.
“Look at all the pretty red-and-pink rocks,” Sophie breathed.
“There’s a strain of rose quartz and red shale that runs through this ridge. That’s what the ridge is named for,” Cole said.
“Redstone,” Sophie murmured.
It warmed his heart to see how much fun his daughters were having. It had been a tough, emotional month since Sophie had been kidnapped in April, and his family had been in recovery mode. If there were a bright side to the experience, it would be that it had drawn them closer, especially the two sisters. They seemed to appreciate one another more now.
Angie drifted into the field of flowers, picking a handful as she went. Cole watched her from the corner of his eye as he squatted near Sophie, helping her focus on the ridgeline. Things were safe enough up here in the mountains, but he kept his guard up at all times with the kids. They were no longer allowed to come home from school alone. Either he or their housekeeper, Mrs. Gibbs, had to be there to meet them at the bus stop. He’d set a rule that he needed to know where the girls were at all times; everyone had a cell phone now, Sophie included, and they were expected to check in with one another if plans changed during the day.
Their family counselor had told him he should probably lighten up a bit, but he’d be hanged if he could do it. Maybe in time.
Coming out from the tree line, Bruno bounded across the meadow, carrying a brown chunk of wood. The dog seemed to be having as much fun as the girls.
“Oops, I lost the focus,” Sophie said, fiddling with the adjustment dial.
Cole reached for the glasses. “Here, let me see if I can get it back for you.”
After placing the binoculars against his eyes, Cole could see that the sheep had moved away from them enough to become a blur. He concentrated on bringing back the sharp detail of the ram’s head, the huge brown horns, the fathomless depths of his golden eyes.
A shriek made him snatch the glasses from his face and search out Angela, finding her about forty yards away. She was backing away from Bruno, her mouth open in horror, her hands raised.
Bruno dropped his shoulders into play position, rump still up, but then he lay down, watching Angie in confusion.
Cole rushed toward her. “What is it?”
Angie kept backing, her eyes glued to a spot between her and the dog.
“Is it a rattlesnake? Angie, stay still!” Cole ran toward his daughter, pulling his Smith & Wesson .38 Special revolver from a concealed holster under his jacket, extra protection for his daughters that he’d decided to carry today.
Hand to her face, Angie whirled and ran toward him. Holding his pistol ready at his side, he opened his free arm and caught her up against his chest. She collapsed into him.
Bruno picked up the piece of wood and began trotting toward them.
Angie yelped. “Stop him! Make him put it down.”
“Bruno, down!” Why was she so upset? Angela wasn’t the type of kid given to hysterics.
Bruno dropped down, looking at Cole for his next command. Cole was close enough now to see that the object the dog held in his mouth was not a chunk of wood. He spoke quietly to Angela. “What is it?”
She trembled as he held her tightly against his side. Her voice quivered. “It’s a boot. Th-there’s a foot inside it.”
“What?”
“It’s b-burned. But it looks like a foot.”
For a moment, his mind couldn’t process what she’d said. The fire was decades ago. There was no way a human foot could still exist without being completely decomposed.
Sophie came up beside them and latched onto Angie, looking frightened. “What’s going on?”
Cole squeezed Angie and studied her face. She’d reached out to hold Sophie, but she was looking up at him as the three of them stood together in a tight little knot. “Can you take care of your sister for a minute?” he asked.
She nodded as she released him and put both arms around her sister. Cole swept a quick glance around the meadow while he approached Bruno, but saw nothing out of the ordinary.
“Bruno, drop.” Bruno released what Cole could now see was a boot blackened by fire. The dog looked up at him with a panting grin. “Stay.”
With his toe, Cole nudged the boot away from Bruno and set it topside up so he could peer inside. Charred flesh. And the flash of white bone. Now he could smell the stench of decomposition. Horror twisted his stomach.
“Bruno, leave it. Komm her.” For emphasis, Cole told Bruno to ‘come’ in German, the language of his original training.
The bilingual dog looked at the boot longingly, but obeyed and left it.
“Come with me.” Cole gripped Angela’s arm with his free hand and guided the kids back toward the horses. Angie held tightly onto Sophie, their faces pale beneath their previously rosy cheeks. He scanned the area as he rushed them toward the cover of the trees. He called Bruno back when the dog tried to split away and reclaim his prize.
Once they reached the edge of the forest, Cole turned to Angie. “I’m afraid some animal might come and take it away, so I need to bag it and take it to the sheriff’s office. I’ve got a trash bag in the pannier. You and Sophie stay here.”
Sophie started to cry softly. Although typically not susceptible to tears, his youngest had suffered some tough times, and she was clearly terrified. “What is it?” she said. “What are you guys talking about?”
Cole bent over her and drew her into a one-armed hug. “It’s a burned boot, and it might be evidence that there’s been some sort of a crime. We don’t know, but we need to be cautious, okay? You don’t need to be frightened.”
“B-but Angie is.” Sophie looked up at him. “You look scared, too, Dad. And you’ve got your gun out.”
He realized that his fear for his daughters’ safety might be getting the better of him, but he didn’t know what he could do about it. His mind had already jumped to the worst. What if this guy had been killed? And what if the killer was still up here?
THREE
Once again Angie led their small party through the forest, but this time Cole clutched Sophie on the saddle in front of him rather than allowing her to sit on her own mount. If they needed to run for any reason, he feared she wasn’t experienced enough to control a horse and keep her seat. He’d holstered his pistol, but had taken off his jacket so that he could easily access his weapon if necessary.
Without touching the boot, he had scooped the grisly object into a garbage bag and had tied it onto Honey’s saddle for transporting down the mountain. He’d thought about leading the mare, but eventually decided to let her follow the other horses, and he’d tied her reins around her neck loosely so that she could travel unencumbered. If someone came after them, he was willing to risk losing the horse.
A branch snapped behind him, making him turn and search the trees. Nothing. Now every sound felt threatening. Even the white thunderheads building in the sky seemed ominous.
“I’m hungry,” Sophie murmured.
Cole remembered that she’d been the only one who hadn’t seen and smelled the foot—of course she was the only one who still had an appetite. “I’ll get you some food from our picnic when we get down to the truck.”
After they rode away from the old burn site, the pine and spruce grew dense and tall, shutting out sunlight and sending a chill down Cole’s back. Who was this person, and how did he die?
Angela was scanning the area as she rode, her face white and tense. Mountaineer rarely needed guidance, and he plodded down the trail through rocky footing and across streams with the sure-footedness of a mountain pony. Dirty patches of snow dotted the north side of the hill, with rivulets of pure water trickling downward. His horse splashed through another muddy stream and climbed the bank on the other side. Honey followed, wanting to stick with her herd-mate.
A crow cawed from the top of a lodgepole pine off to the right and then swooped down in front of Mountaineer, soaring along the trail before beating its wings to land in a spruce on their left. The trail wound between huge boulders, which rose up as if to block their escape. Cole cringed as he watched Angela disappear into the split, imagining some human monster jumping out to snatch her away. He nudged Duke to quicken his step through the boulders, and he released his breath when he saw her moving safely down the trail ahead of him on the other side.
The ride downhill seemed to take forever. At last they reached a spot where there was a vantage point overlooking the parking lot at the trailhead.
“Stop here for a minute,” he called to Angela.
She reined in her horse and he drew up beside her. Honey edged in beside Duke and stopped, crowding near.
Although the parking lot was still over a mile away, from up here he had a clear view of it. Rolling forest stretched off to the horizon in every direction, with the tallest mountains behind him.
There were two other rigs parked in the lot beside his, rigs that hadn’t been there when they’d unloaded this morning. Cole took out his binoculars and glassed the pickups and trailers, but they didn’t tell him much. One was a forest-green truck pulling a long, silver, four-horse trailer, and the other a dark blue pickup with a white, two-horse trailer hitched behind it. He didn’t recognize either of them. Could one or both belong to the person who dumped the body?
He put away the field glasses and made a decision. If there were newcomers on the trail, they’d be ahead, not behind.
“Angie, can you take Sophie on the saddle in front of you?”
“Sure.”
He dismounted and reached toward Sophie. “Come here, Little Bit. I’ve got you,” he said as she hesitated before allowing him to lift her from the saddle. He hefted Sophie up high so that Angela could grasp her and help settle her into their shared seat. The saddle accommodated the two skinny kids well, and Sophie would probably be more comfortable here than sharing a saddle with him.
Cole stepped back up into his saddle. “I’ll take the lead now, Angie.”
Reining Duke onto the trail, he noticed Honey try to take second position. “Go ahead and get right behind me, Angel. Make Honey follow us. Stay close to me.”
Angela nudged Mountaineer into second place, jostling the mare back into third on the narrow trail. The docile mare accepted her position and didn’t try to push forward.
“Do we know who the trailers belong to, Dad?” Angela asked, fear evident in her tone.
“I don’t, sweetheart, but I’m sure everything will be okay.”
He glanced behind to give the girls a reassuring smile, but saw that Sophie was nibbling her thumbnail. Not a good sign.
Whenever Cole reached a gap in the trees, he strained to scout the trail ahead. It crisscrossed the mountain at this point, traversing the steep grade in a series of switchbacks. This afforded him an occasional peek at the trail below.
Soon he saw them—two men together on horseback, heading up the trail. His body tensed. Should he leave the kids here and ride down to meet these men? Or should they stick together in case someone was coming from behind, too?
He recognized one of the horses before he recognized the rider. It was a big sorrel gelding with a wide white blaze and three white stockings. The large man who wore the broad-brimmed Stetson and sat astride the familiar gelding would be its owner, Ed Lovejoy, the local wildlife mana
ger who was leading the mountain sheep relocation project and who was also one of Cole’s clients. He breathed a sigh of relief and reined Duke over at the nearest switchback. “I know one of these guys, kids. Let’s stop here and wait for them.”
Ed’s mouth turned up at the corners in a tight-lipped smile of recognition as he drew near, and then he spat a stream of saliva, which was darkened by the pinch of snuff that bulged beneath his bottom lip. He had unusual grey-blue eyes and a ruddy complexion that looked like he suffered from chronic sunburn despite the hat that covered his sandy hair. As he pulled his horse to a stop, Cole caught a whiff of the mint-flavored tobacco, a scent that reminded him of his dad.
“Doc Walker.” Ed greeted him with barely moving lips as he spoke around the wad of chew. “You been up to check the site?”
“We have. I suppose that’s where you’re headed.”
“That’s right.” Ed turned in his saddle, cocking one hip so that he could gesture toward the tall, lean man who’d pulled up behind him. “This is Tucker York from the state office in Denver. He’s going to be supervising the project.”
Cole tipped his head in a nod as the two of them exchanged hellos. He got an impression of keen brown eyes that assessed him from under a broad-brimmed felt hat. A man that looked to be in his fifties, Tucker York wore the standard Colorado Parks and Wildlife khaki uniform. Turning back to Ed, Cole said, “I’m hoping you can help out with a problem we’ve discovered up above.”
Ed raised a brow.
“Our dog found some partial human remains at the site.”
Now both eyebrows raised in shock. “Human remains?”
Cole nodded. “I need you to turn back and go down to the trailhead to keep everyone out until I return with the sheriff. It’s a crime scene up there, and we need to stay out of it.”
York spoke up. “What did you find?”
“Our dog brought us a boot with a foot inside.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Did you find a body?”
“I have the kids with me. My first priority is to get them back home. Then I’ll take the boot to the sheriff’s office.”
Burning Ridge Page 2
