Burning Ridge

by Margaret Mizushima

Using a brush and gloved fingers, he worked his way around the degraded bone, tinged gray from charcoal exposure. He slowly revealed the round frontal bone, the empty eye sockets, and finally the maxilla and gaped open jaw, both still holding teeth.

  He held it up, inspecting it carefully. “This skull belonged to a child.”

  In a split second, an image of a burning boy surrounded by flames flashed into Mattie’s mind.

  Clenching her teeth, she turned and headed toward the volunteer’s campsite, taking Robo with her.

  * * *

  Less than a half hour later, Brody joined Mattie by the campfire. She’d poured herself coffee from a pot that hung from a rod above the fire, and she huddled over the cup, warming her hands. As she gazed at the glowing embers and listened to the wood snap, she’d shut down her thoughts about unearthing a child’s bones. Instead, she was thinking about the rough terrain around Willie’s gravesite and the crevice beyond the waterfall that she and Brody had been unable to search.

  Brody bent to grab an empty cup and tipped the pot to fill it. “We’ve got a full skeleton. Can’t specify age until they get the remains to the lab, but they’re thinking around six years old. Some clothing remnants—zippers from a jacket and pants, some buttons probably from a shirt, partially burned rubber from the soles of tennis shoes. They’ve moved on to another grave now.”

  Empty inside, Mattie nodded and took another sip of the bitter liquid.

  Brody stared into the campfire as he sipped his coffee. “Why a dead child?”

  Mattie shrugged, unable to speculate. She changed the subject. “You know that stream we crossed up by my brother’s gravesite? You know how it flows into that gorge we couldn’t get down into?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, the stream is fairly small now, but don’t you think there are times that it swells when runoff flows through there?”

  Brody lowered his cup. “Yep, from snowmelt and rain. Could get a large head of water rolling if there’s a downpour.”

  “Let’s go search it, Brody. Let’s follow the stream and see if we can find anything that might have washed downhill. It’s rugged, but it looks like a place where trash might collect.”

  “All right. We’re not needed to excavate those graves, so we might as well make ourselves useful.”

  “Do we have some rope we could take with us? It’s going to be hard getting down into that ravine.”

  Brody nodded and then drained his cup before leaving to retrieve the rope. He came back carrying what looked like a curled lasso hanging from his shoulder. Mattie emptied her cup by tossing the remaining coffee aside.

  Robo trotted out in front as they hiked the short distance uphill toward Willie’s gravesite, but Mattie called him back and told him to heel as they drew near. When they reached the stream, she asked Robo to take a drink.

  The ravine ran downhill, perpendicular to the trail. Although somewhat shallow at this point, it dropped off quickly into a deep, rocky crevice that they’d searched around earlier.

  She pointed to some huge granite boulders at the top of the falls. “I guess we’ll have to climb down there.”

  “I’ll go look for the best way.”

  Mattie prepared Robo by exchanging his everyday collar for the blue one that he wore specifically for evidence detection and then led him to where the stream tumbled off the ledge, splashing over boulders until it landed about twenty-five feet below. From there, the ravine looked rugged, filled with current bushes, evergreen trees, willows, and deadfall, but Mattie thought Robo could search places that she couldn’t.

  Brody was busy at the top of the falls, tying the rope to a pine tree. “You can use the rope to let yourself down. Then I can lower Robo.”

  As long as she had support from the rope, Mattie thought she could manage the footholds offered by rocks on the way down.

  “I have a full-body vest that I’ll put on him.” She secured the vest by centering its mesh panel beneath Robo’s belly and buckling its straps over his back. To test it, she gripped the straps and lifted him a few inches off the ground, making sure the vest supported his weight throughout his entire length. “Slip the rope through these rings here on top.”

  “Is he going to fight this?”

  “He shouldn’t. He’s done this many times in practice. He knows what to do.”

  After getting Robo rigged out, Mattie turned and tested the rope. She grabbed onto it and leaned back with most of her weight, pulling the knot tight against the thick tree trunk. Where the knot scraped the bark it released the sweet, pungent scent of pine, and sap stained the rope.

  Mattie went to the edge of the boulders. “I’ll go ahead now. Robo, stay.”

  She hated that his brow puckered in a worried expression, but she didn’t want him bailing off the ledge to come after her. She grasped the rope firmly in both hands. Backing cautiously, she looked downward for her first foothold, feeling her world tilt as the rocky bottom of the ravine came into focus. She shifted her gaze from far to near, focusing instead on taking one step at a time.

  The stream splashed in a fall beside her, creating a rushing noise and slippery stones. Going hand over hand along the rope and placing her feet carefully into footholds, Mattie glanced up to see Robo peering down at her, his mouth open in a nervous pant, pink tongue highlighted against black muzzle. Her boot slipped off a rock, jamming her knee against a boulder, and pain wrenched her attention back to her feet.

  Step-by-step, the rope pinching at her palms, she eased her way down until, finally, she felt the firm earth at the base of the falls. “Okay,” she shouted, releasing the rope. “Send Robo.”

  Brody tugged the rope back up to the ledge. Grateful that her dog had enough experience working around Brody that he wouldn’t be frightened, Mattie waited the few minutes it took to secure the rope. Brody led Robo to the edge of the falls.

  Her partner really looked worried now.

  “It’s okay, boy. You’re going to come down here.” She tapped the rocky wall.

  Brody lifted Robo by his chest and carefully lowered him over the edge. He hung there for a brief moment, his body limp and his legs splayed, while Brody adjusted the rope and began lowering him slowly. Mattie spoke soothing words and held up her arms, locking onto Robo’s gaze and sending him confidence with her eyes.

  He landed in her arms without incident, and she held onto him, providing support as his feet came into contact with the ground. She hugged him and told him what a good boy he was, and in a split second his expression changed from worry to pure joy. The same response bubbled up inside her. As he took on every challenge that was asked of him, her brave dog was a huge source of both joy and pride. He always made her feel better.

  Mattie untied the rope and looked up to see Brody peering down at her. “Your turn,” she told him.

  She led Robo out of the way so that Brody could descend. While he made his way down, she removed Robo’s vest, leaving his collar in place. It took only a minute for Brody’s long legs to navigate the cliff.

  Mattie finished up with Robo. “Let’s do what we can to search along this streambed. We’ll go down one side and come back up on the other.”

  After Mattie told Robo to seek, he put his nose to the ground and squeezed through a tangle of willows, heading downhill. The solid rock walls gave her the sensation of pressing in from both sides. She ignored it and fought through the foliage, staying as close to Robo as she could, parting branches and inching forward. The clutter of branches and boulders made for slow passage, and Robo soon ranged out in front, outdistancing her.

  After about fifty yards of pushing through timber, her shirt drenched with sweat despite the crisp air, she lost all sight of her dog. When the ground evened out, she thought about calling him back, but then spotted him sitting at the base of a pile of deadfall on the stream’s bank where it looped out and slowed, creating a natural catchment.

  He’d apparently been watching for her, and made eye contact as soon as she came into vie
w. He’d dug a shallow pit in the mash of dead leaves, twigs, and branches that he now put his mouth into, touched something, and then looked back into her eyes. His signal for evidence detection.

  “What did you find?”

  She rushed to join him and knelt, hugging him close with one arm while she reached to probe near the hole that he’d made. Metal glinted through the dead leaves.

  Brody came up behind her. “What’s he got?”

  His presence reminded her of the sheriff’s instruction. “Sheriff McCoy told me that you need to recover any evidence that Robo finds up here.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  Evidently McCoy had given Brody the same instructions. She pulled out her cell phone. “Let me take a photo.”

  She snapped shots at different angles and then moved aside, pulling Robo along with her.

  Brody squatted and began scooping aside the dried leafy deposit with one hand while Mattie videoed the process. It didn’t take long to uncover Robo’s find.

  It was a handgun—a semi-automatic pistol. Black and caked with dirt, ugly and deadly-looking. Fingers trembling from a rush of adrenaline, Mattie snapped several photos of it in place.

  “Looks like a .357 Magnum,” Brody said. “Desert Eagle from back in the early eighties.”

  Brody knew his guns, and he was probably right about the age of this one. From its condition, she would guess it had lain here in the ravine for a long time. But why would it be here, only yards away from Willie’s gravesite? A coincidence? And who had disposed of it in the first place?

  SEVENTEEN

  The deadfall yielded a cache of debris that included plastic bags, food wrappers, Styrofoam cups, and the like. Mattie and Brody bagged it all and then searched a little farther down before heading back up on the other side of the stream. They found nothing more.

  Sheriff McCoy and Rick Lawson were still at the gravesites in the meadow when Mattie and Brody returned, and the excavation team had made progress. Two more skeletons with clothing remnants had been unearthed, both adults, and both had been burned. Three body bags were laid out side-by-side, waiting for helicopter pickup.

  Brody handed the paper bag containing the gun to the sheriff.

  “What’s this?” McCoy said, looking into the bag.

  “Desert Eagle, .357 Magnum,” Brody said. “Robo found it in the ravine at the upper gravesite.”

  McCoy offered the bag to Lawson, who peered into it before focusing on Mattie. “This gun was manufactured back in the eighties. We can’t say exactly how long ago those bodies were buried, but it could have been around then. There are signs of projectile penetration on both adult skulls, and we’ve got lead inside one of them. We’ll have to see if that slug came from this handgun.”

  Mattie glanced down at Robo, and he gazed back at her as if waiting for her to tell him what his next job would be. Her limbs were heavy from exhaustion, her clothing covered with sweat, dirt, and mud, but the pride she felt for her dog’s accomplishments made it all worth it.

  “The team is going to stay here tonight and look for sign of more graves, but I’m heading back down to the sheriff’s station,” Lawson said. “I’ll clean this gun and see if I can get a serial number off it. Then I’ll put it through the ATF National Tracing Center. We can probably find out who purchased it originally and maybe trace it to its final owner.”

  “How long will that take?” Mattie asked.

  “I might get results within twenty-four hours.”

  That came as a surprise. Having Lawson on their team had its benefits.

  McCoy told Mattie that she should return to Timber Creek in the next party as well. She started back to where the horses were tied, and Brody came along with her. He looked as dirty and beat as she did. “Do you need a break to go back to town?” she asked him.

  “Nah. We’ve got a shower rigged up with a solar heated bag of water, and the sheriff brought me up a clean set of clothes.”

  “Is there anything you need me to do when I get to the station? Anyone you need me to call?”

  “Nope. I’m good.” Brody gave her a look that told her she needed to back off. He wasn’t a touchy-feely sort of guy, and he usually kept his private business to himself.

  Mattie remained silent for the rest of the way, saying goodbye when they reached the camp. She found Garrett saddling up Mountaineer at the rope picket line where they’d tied the horses. Grateful to be transported downhill on horseback instead of having to use her own two legs, she squatted beside Robo and hugged him close while she waited.

  “Are you about ready to go?” Garrett asked.

  “We are. The others will be here soon.”

  The craggy planes of the rancher’s face were etched with concern. “You look beat. Wait here while I get the others rounded up.”

  He returned shortly with a cup of coffee and then left again. His gesture touched her, and she fought back that hollow feeling inside as she thought of Willie, of her family. They hadn’t taken care of each other the way they should.

  Garrett returned with the rest of the party. After mounting up, she looked down at Robo, wishing he could ride home, too, but he trotted alongside her as the horses moved out, perfectly happy with going on his own.

  This time, Mattie relaxed completely in the saddle, bracing herself and leaning back automatically on the steeper grades and then swaying with Mountaineer’s steps on the flat. The sun set and the forest took on the muted light of dusk, making her sleepy. Robo seemed content with staying close. Her phone beeped with messages as they came back into range for cell phone service.

  When they arrived at the parking lot, she thanked Garrett and loaded up Robo, giving him some water before climbing into the driver’s seat and checking her voicemail. The first message was from Mama T, and it soothed Mattie’s spirit just to hear her voice. “Don’t forget to come over this evening, mijita. Doreen is here and she’s anxious to meet you.”

  She wondered if her foster mom called Doreen ‘my little daughter’ as well.

  The second message was from Cole. “Hi, Mattie. We’re thinking of you today.” There was a long pause. “I know this has to be tough on you and … I hope we can at least talk tonight. Call me when you get a chance, okay? No matter how late. Well, bye.”

  Sounded like it was tough on Cole, too. She would call him after she carried through with her commitment to Mama T. She sent him a message saying she would phone as soon as she was free.

  There was also a text from Riley. “Hey Mattie. Dad says I can’t come to your house anymore. Sorry if I was a bother. I still want the job with the kids. When can I start?”

  For Pete’s sake, Mattie thought, quickly sending a reply. “You’re not a bother! You can come over anytime. I’ll check with Mama T and get back to you.”

  She yawned as she settled in behind the wheel for the short drive to town. As if contagious, Robo joined her in a squeaky yawn, his pink tongue curling, and then he circled on his cushion and plopped down with a sigh. When she checked him in the rearview mirror, it looked like he’d fallen asleep within seconds.

  Robo slept all the way into town. She tried to check in with Stella as she drove, but there was no answer, so she left a message for her to call back.

  After a shower and a change of clothes, Mattie left Robo asleep on his dog bed and drove the short distance to Mama T’s house. Mama T had left the front porch light on for her, but she slipped around to the side door that led into the kitchen where she knew the two women would be cooking, visiting, or both. After tapping on the door, she opened it and was greeted by a wonderful, spicy aroma that could come only from her foster mother’s stove.

  Mama T and Doreen sat at the table wrapping tamales, her mama’s special recipe and one that Mattie had helped with many a time. They both looked up with smiles, and she could tell by the expression on Mama T’s face that she was in her element—cooking with someone she loved.

  Her mama gave her a long hug, and Mattie could feel the concern and sympathy
flowing from her heart. Mama T leaned away, still holding her by the arms, and fixed her with intense scrutiny. “I’m happy to see you, mijita. How are you?”

  Mattie’s eyes prickled with tears. “I’ll be all right.”

  Mama T squeezed her upper arms before releasing her and taking her hand. “You’re here now. I told Doreen I knew you would come, and we must keep busy while we wait. The time goes faster, right? Come, meet your sister.”

  Doreen had stood, holding back while Mattie and Mama T greeted each other, but now she approached, opening her arms for an embrace. As Mattie leaned forward to accept the hug, she caught a whiff of lavender infused into the woman’s long, black hair. Her foster sister was dressed in a flowing, vanilla-colored tunic over black trousers, and she came across as strong and sturdy. She had a broad, round face with soft, pleasant features and kind, dark eyes. She appeared to be of mixed race, perhaps Hispanic and Caucasian like Mattie.

  “I am so very sorry about your brother,” Doreen said. “Come, sit at the table. Can I get you something to eat or drink?”

  Mattie realized that she was starving. “I haven’t had much to eat today, and Mama T’s kitchen smells amazing. But you don’t have to get it for me, I can help myself.”

  “Sit down at the table,” Mama T said, bustling over to the cupboard to grab a plate and then heading for the stove. She opened one of the pots, revealing the tops of cornhusk-covered tamales wedged upright inside for steaming. She served up three of them, set the plate in front of Mattie, and then went back to the stove to dish up a bowl of green chili. She also grabbed a jar of homemade tomatillo salsa and plopped both dishes down beside the plate. “Now, what to drink? Iced tea?”

  Mattie stayed out of her foster mom’s way and helped herself to cutlery and napkins from the cafeteria-style containers that always sat on the table. “Iced tea would be great.”

  Doreen had settled back into her seat and taken up a cornhusk to open wide on the cutting board she was using. She placed a spoonful of viscous cornmeal into the middle of the husk and spread it into a thin rectangle, followed by a dollop of seasoned, chopped beef. She then folded one side over and rolled the tamale so that the cornmeal encircled the meat, after which she enclosed it by wrapping each side of the cornhusk over and folding up a flap at the bottom. She placed the finished tamale open end up into a pot, ready for steaming.