Killing Trail: A Timber Creek K-9 Mystery Read online

  “Sounds good.”

  Robo was lying on his dog bed watching them.

  “Robo? You ready to roll?” Mattie said.

  He jumped up and trotted toward the door.

  Stella returned Mattie’s grin. “Looks like he is.”

  Outside, the morning air still felt crisp, but the sun’s rays promised a hot day. She drove the few blocks between the department and Crane’s Market. Mr. Crane, an older man with a stained apron covering his potbelly and a white butcher’s cap on his gray head, stood out front. He had a small boy in tow who looked to be around five or six years old.

  Oh, man . . . looks like the perp is just a little kid.

  Quickly, Mattie hit the lights and whooped the siren once as she pulled to a stop, hoping to make a stronger impression on the young thief. Maybe she could add to his discomfort and stop him from continuing his wayward ways.

  The boy wore a ragged denim jacket over his T-shirt and shorts. His blond hair was a mess, and his knees looked like grimy knobs.

  Mattie left the cruiser running, air conditioning vented toward Robo, windows halfway down in the back. As she approached, Crane handed her a brown paper bag.

  “This is what I found in his jacket pockets,” Crane said.

  Mattie peered inside the bag. Two jars of baby food, two cans of formula, four sticks of beef jerky. Strange items for a child to steal. She’d expected candy.

  “Do you know his name?” she asked Crane.

  “Sean O’Malley. His mom’s a regular customer. Down and out. Lives over in that trailer house beside the Catholic church.”

  O’Malley, like Tommy O’Malley, the troublemaker at the high school. Was this his little brother?

  She looked at the boy. He stood with eyes downcast, hands thrust in pockets, and chin set in a belligerent attitude. She remembered using that posture herself as a young girl.

  “Do you know that stealing is wrong, Sean?” she asked him.

  His eyes flickered up to touch on hers for a brief moment and then went back to studying the ground. But in that brief moment, Mattie connected with her own childhood, and she knew she’d have to side with the boy on this one.

  She turned back to Crane. “I’ll take him home and speak with his mother, investigate the home situation. You noticed the items he took were probably not for himself, right?”

  “Yes. I won’t press charges this time, but I don’t want him coming back in my store without his parents again.”

  “Did you hear that, Sean?” Mattie asked.

  Silence.

  “You’d better answer. Mr. Crane is letting you go without sending you to jail. You should never do this again, because you might not be so lucky next time.” Mattie paused to let that sink in. “Now, did you hear him say he doesn’t want you coming back into his store without your parents?”

  Sean shifted his weight. “Yes.”

  Mattie had an inkling that the parents were part of the problem. Why else would a child come into a grocery store to steal baby food?

  “Do you understand that stealing is wrong?”

  “Yeah,” he said, begrudgingly.

  “Is there a baby at your house that needs this food?”

  Head down, he nodded.

  “Just so you know, there are other ways to get food when you need it besides stealing. I’m going to pay Mr. Crane for the baby food this time, and we’ll take it home to your mom. Then we’ll look into getting some help for her to get more food.”

  Silence.

  Crane screwed up his face in distaste. “Aw, hell, take the damn baby food. Take the jerky, too.”

  “What do you tell Mr. Crane for giving you the food?”

  Sean looked at her as if he were clueless.

  “You need to tell him thank you.”

  The kid squinted as if in pain, but he lifted his chin. “Thanks.”

  “Now get out of here,” Crane said to him, turning away to go back inside, disgust evident.

  “Come on,” Mattie said, leading the way to the passenger side of the cruiser.

  Robo barked a greeting and leaned out the open window, panting and showing his teeth. Sean stopped in his tracks, eyes wide.

  “Go ahead and get in the car,” Mattie said, opening the door. “There’s a wire screen between you and him inside. He wouldn’t hurt you, anyway.”

  Sean climbed in but perched on the front of the seat, twisting toward the back so he could keep his eye on the dog. Robo moved up to the front of the cage, eager to make friends.

  “He’s friendly, but don’t reach your hand through the wire to pet him. It’s never a good idea to do that with a strange dog.” Mattie walked around the cruiser and sat in her own seat.

  It would only take a few minutes to get to the boy’s house, but Mattie hoped to get some information out of him before they got there. “How old are you?”

  “Six.”

  “Do you have a dad at home?”

  Perched on the front of his seat, grubby hands clutching the dashboard, Sean looked out the windshield. “Yes.”

  Mattie thought of her own father. “Did he tell you to steal the food?”

  “No.”

  “Did your mom?”

  “No.”

  Mattie thought he must be lying one way or the other. “Put on your seat belt so we can go.”

  Gingerly, Sean inched back in the seat, reaching for the belt while still keeping an eye on Robo.

  Mattie put the car in gear. “Are you afraid of dogs?”

  “No.”

  “He’s a big one, I know.” Not to mention he could be ferocious when necessary. She paused while she drove out into the street. “Who all lives at your house, Sean?”

  He gave her a sideways glance and a shrug. “My mom and dad and baby sister.”

  “Is that all?”

  “My big brother and sister.” Sean pointed at the trailer house just past the church. “That’s where I live.”

  “Any other grown-ups live with you, Sean?”

  “No.”

  Mattie parked the car on the street in front of a ramshackle mobile home. The yard surrounding it had long ago gone to weeds. “Let’s go talk to your parents.”

  “My dad’s at work.”

  “Your mom then.”

  Leaving Robo in the car, she followed Sean through the clutter of junk left out in the yard: a rusted-out washing machine, numerous toys, the shell of an old Chevy auto body up on wooden blocks. They stepped up onto the splintered wooden deck.

  Before Mattie could knock, a tired looking woman opened the door. She was holding an infant who had a runny nose. Her eyes shifted between Mattie and Sean, and Mattie could see her putting two and two together. She’d bet that the mother was the one who sent the boy out to shoplift.

  “Mrs. O’Malley?” Mattie said.

  “Yes.”

  “Mr. Crane caught Sean stealing food over at the market.”

  The woman’s eyes misted, and her shoulders slumped as she turned her head aside, trying to hide her emotion from Mattie.

  “Come inside, Sean,” she said, her voice barely audible. She stepped out onto the deck and closed the door behind her, shutting Sean inside. “I’m sorry, Officer. I’ll see that he’s punished.”

  Mattie observed the woman’s whipped demeanor, her old-fashioned and threadbare house dress, her rail-thin body that looked like it hadn’t been fed a good meal in quite some time. “I’m not sure punishment is in order, Mrs. O’Malley. Did you tell Sean to get the food?”

  A spark of anger flickered in the woman’s eyes, long enough for Mattie to know it was there before the woman extinguished it. “Why would I do that?”

  “Money’s short, your children are hungry. It’s understandable.”

  As if to reinforce Mattie’s words, the baby whimpered half-heartedly. Mrs. O’Malley shushed her and patted her gently on the back.

  Behind her, Mattie heard gears grind and gravel crunch. She turned to see an old beater pickup truck, blue paint sh
owing between rusty dents, pull up and park behind her patrol car.

  A man with a thundercloud on his face got out of the vehicle. Tall and lean with brown hair grown halfway down his neck, he crossed the yard in a few quick, angry strides.

  “What’s the police doing here?” he asked the woman.

  Mattie assumed the man was Mr. O’Malley. Two teenagers, a boy whom she recognized as Tommy and a girl, got out of the truck on the passenger side and came around where Mattie could see them. The girl’s short hair was dyed bright red and Tommy’s was bleached blond. Mattie guessed they were close to the same age, although Tommy appeared to be older. They stayed by the truck.

  Mrs. O’Malley shrank away from the angry man. “The . . . this officer brought Sean home.”

  He looked at Mattie, his dark eyes demanding an explanation.

  Mattie instantly disliked him. “Your name, sir?”

  “Patrick O’Malley. Who wants to know?”

  “I’m Deputy Cobb from the sheriff’s office.” She held out the paper bag in a slight gesture. “Sean was caught taking food from Crane’s Market.”

  Patrick snatched the bag and looked inside. He glared at his wife, who was trying, in vain, to comfort the baby. “I’ll take care of this,” he said to Mattie.

  She wasn’t sure what he meant, but she didn’t like it. “Mr. Crane gave the food to your family with a warning that he doesn’t want Sean coming back into the store without his parents. He isn’t going to press charges. I’ve warned Sean that he won’t get off so lightly if it happens again.”

  “It won’t happen again,” Patrick said. He thrust the bag toward his wife, forcing her to juggle the infant into one arm so she could take it. “Take her inside and see if you can shut her up.”

  Mrs. O’Malley went inside the trailer.

  “I’m going to ask social services to make a visit today so we can get you the resources you need.” She knew they wouldn’t visit on a Sunday, but she thought an eminent home visit might protect his family.

  Anger darkened his face.

  Tommy left the truck and sauntered up. “Dad’s been out of work, but he has a job now, and I have a job.”

  Mattie read the kid as wanting to help diffuse the situation. “Hi, Tommy.”

  The girl had come up behind him. “Hi,” Mattie said to her. “And your name is?”

  “Molly,” Tommy said before the girl could speak.

  “Why do you know my son?” Patrick said, clearly unhappy about it.

  Mattie decided not to mention that she’d first met Tommy months ago when she confronted him and his friends for littering in the park. “I met Tommy in the park a while back, sir. Him and some of his friends.” She addressed all of them. “I know times have been rough, but it sounds like you’ll have more income soon.”

  She withdrew several business cards from her shirt pocket and gave one to Patrick and each of the kids. “You can reach me at this number if I can do anything to help. Tommy, could I have a word with you out by the car?”

  Patrick opened the trailer door. “Come inside, Molly.” Giving Mattie a mean look, he disappeared into the trailer with Molly following.

  After moving toward the car, Mattie faced Tommy. “Has your father even been violent with anyone in your family?”

  He smirked. “Nah, he’s a pussycat.”

  “Don’t hesitate to dial nine-one-one if you fear for your safety. Or the safety of anyone else.”

  “Sure thing,” he said with a smart-alecky tone.

  She decided to move on. “Did you hear about Grace Hartman?”

  The smirk left his face. “Yeah, I heard. Everybody’s talking about it.”

  “Were you friends with her?”

  “Are you shittin’ me? Grace ran in a different crowd.”

  “Did you want to be friends with her?”

  “Nah, I have friends of my own. She was too stuck up for us.”

  “Sounds like you didn’t like her.”

  Tommy shrugged and put his hands back in his pockets. He seemed to take the question seriously. “Nah . . . it was more like we just didn’t have any use for each other.”

  Mattie hadn’t been out of high school so long that she couldn’t remember how cliques could coexist peacefully in a small town. She believed he was telling the truth.

  “Do you know Mike Chadron?”

  “Knew who he was.”

  “So you know he’s dead, too.”

  “Yep.”

  “How’d you know that?” she asked.

  “One of my friends told me.”

  His eyes slid away when he said it, and she suspected he was lying. But she didn’t know why. “What did you hear about it?”

  “Just that he killed himself last night.”

  “Anything else you know about Mike?”

  “Why would I know anything else about him?”

  “Just tell me what you know.”

  “I know he has a bunch of dogs he brings to the park. That’s about it.”

  She figured he was back to at least partial truth. Tommy spent a lot of time hanging out at the park; he’d probably seen Mike there. She wondered if he knew anything about Mike and their suspicion of him transporting cocaine, but she couldn’t ask him about it directly.

  “I’m on a mission to clear drugs out of Timber Creek, Tommy.”

  He looked back toward his house. “What does that have to do with me?”

  “I believe you may know something about drugs around here.”

  “Well, I don’t.”

  “I’m not trying to bust you. I just want to know who’s selling.”

  He shifted away from her, and she could tell she was losing him. “I don’t know anything about that, I’m telling you.”

  “Is there anyone you’ve noticed who has more money than usual? Someone with cash?”

  “That guy out at the hot springs. The owner. I hear he’s rich.”

  She’d expected him to mention Mike or one of his peers. She was surprised he’d bring up the owner of the hot springs. She doubted they ran in the same circles.

  “Anyone else?” she asked.

  “No.” He looked sullen. “I don’t even know anything about him.”

  “That’s okay. You think about this conversation and let me know if you can come up with anyone else. I’ll check back in with you later.”

  Avoiding her gaze, he turned away and headed for the trailer. As he entered, he looked back to see her watching him. Giving her a little finger wave, he closed the door.

  Feeling unsettled, Mattie climbed into her cruiser and drove away, wondering why a teenager would notice that the hot springs owner had a lot of cash.

  Chapter 16

  During the next hour, Mattie patrolled the streets of Timber Creek thinking about her conversation with Tommy O’Malley. She’d expected him to deny any knowledge of drug use or Grace’s killing, but she’d been surprised when he mentioned the hot springs owner. Had he blurted out the name of his supplier when he’d felt pressured?

  The killing of Grace Hartman and Mike Chadron had to be related to the drug trade. Yesterday, when Angela Walker said there’d been rumors that Tommy O’Malley might be selling, she’d backed off from pressing her, both for the sake of establishing rapport and because she felt sympathy for the girl’s grief. Now she needed to know if Tommy had a reputation as a dealer at school or not. She needed something more solid the next time she questioned him.

  Perhaps Angela’s grief wouldn’t be as new and raw as it had been yesterday. She reached for her cell phone, swiped to Cole Walker’s business number, and dialed.

  “Hello, Deputy Cobb,” he said.

  “Good morning. How are the salmonella patients doing today?”

  “They’re better, thanks, at least from a physical standpoint. From the looks of things, I’d guess that they’re both a little depressed though.”

  “Yeah.” Mattie’s mind conjured pictures of both dog and teen from the day before. She sighed and said in a t
one meant to show her sympathy. “Why wouldn’t they be, right? You, too, I imagine.”

  He cleared his throat. “I’ll be all right.”

  She adopted a more businesslike tone. “Have you heard about Mike Chadron yet?”

  “No, what’s up?”

  “We found him last night at his home. Deceased. Apparent suicide.”

  “Good grief! That’s not like the Mike I know. In all the times he brought his dogs in, he never once seemed despondent or depressed.”

  His comment backed up their theory. “Really?” she said, inviting more.

  “Well, maybe he hid it, like some people do.” He paused. Mattie waited to see if he’d continue. “My wife has been dealing with depression all summer, earlier than that, really, unbeknownst to me. So who am I to be able to recognize it?”

  “I’m sorry about your wife’s troubles,” Mattie said, surprised that he would share something so personal.

  “Ex-wife, I should say. I’m not used to that yet.”

  So the rumors were true. “I’m sure it’s been hard on you. The kids, too.”

  “Yeah.” He paused again.

  Mattie switched the topic back to business. “I wondered if I could talk to Angela again this morning.”

  “Yes, but later. My sister will be leaving, and we need to spend some time with her first. Maybe you could come by around eleven thirty?”

  “House or office?”

  “House.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  After disconnecting the call, Mattie realized she felt flushed. She’d never been comfortable discussing people’s personal lives unless the discussion had something to do with the job. Surely that was the only reason.

  She decided to call Stella to tell her about the hot springs lead, and the detective answered immediately.

  “LoSasso.”

  Mattie told her about her conversation with Tommy and how he pointed to the owner of the hot springs as someone who had a lot of money. She shared her suspicion that the group could be involved with drug running. “One of us should go out there and meet him. See if he could also be a suspect for our killings.”

  “I’m on my way to meet Chadron’s parents now. You go ahead and see what you think. When we meet at noon, we’ll share info and set up a plan for next steps.”