Tracking Game Page 13

  Brody frowned. “Two taps to the heart makes me think of a hired hit.”

  Mattie couldn’t dismiss the fact that Robo had found a trace of narcotics inside the van door panel. “Leads me back to drug running, which could mean we have an unknown suspect.”

  “That might work for Nate, but there’s no evidence that he and Wilson were into drug running together,” Stella said. “In fact, what we know about them contradicts any kind of partnership.”

  Mattie realized they could be jumping to conclusions about these two homicides being related. “How can we be so sure we’ve got only one shooter here?”

  “That’s right,” Stella said. “At this point, we have nothing. If we could recover the bullet at Wilson’s scene, we could see if it was from a handgun or a rifle and at least determine if he was shot at close range like Nate. A similar MO might make me lean more toward the one-shooter theory.”

  “Robo and I will do an evidence search in the morning.”

  “Those scuff marks indicate the cougar dragged him a ways,” Brody said. “It’ll be impossible to determine trajectory that shows you where to search.”

  “We still have to try,” Mattie said. “And we need to locate Ben Underwood and Zach Irving. Those two have a connection to Nate Fletcher, and they’re from out of town. I’d love to let Robo sweep that Cadillac of theirs for narcotics.”

  Brody nodded. “You two go ahead and see if you can track them down at the motel. I’ll stay here until the techs are done with the crime scene. We’ll keep a guard on it overnight and take a fresh look early tomorrow morning. Sheriff McCoy is coming back to town tonight, so he’ll be available soon.”

  “We’ll stay in touch,” Stella said before turning to leave.

  Grateful that Robo, Stella, and a powerful flashlight accompanied her, Mattie turned away from the fire to head into the darkness, still wondering if a cougar could produce the low-pitched growl she’d heard.

  * * *

  When they arrived at the Big Sky Motel, four cars were parked inside the well-lit courtyard, and Mattie was pleased to see Zach Irving’s silver Cadillac Escalade among them.

  “There it is,” she said. “I’m going to get permission from the manager for Robo to take a sniff of the cars here in their lot.”

  “Good idea.”

  The owner of the motel was on duty, and as one of the merchants on the committee that had funded Robo’s purchase, he was more than willing to cooperate, though he said he would contact the owners of the Cadillac in question and let them know she wanted to talk to them.

  As Mattie stepped out of the office, the door to room eight opened, and the cowboy that Rainbow had been dancing with the night before stepped outside and stood under the porch light. He appeared to be looking at her SUV while another man exited the room and stood behind him.

  Stella went to meet them while Mattie passed by her unit to leave the driver’s side door open before following. Robo’s cage was equipped with a latch that could be opened remotely with a button attached to her utility belt, and it had paid off before to leave an open exit so that her partner could provide backup if she needed him.

  Stella introduced herself and then Mattie while Ben Underwood performed the introductions on their side. They offered handshakes all around.

  Mattie remembered Ben’s dark good looks from the dance. In the courtyard’s spotlights, his brown eyes twinkled with friendliness; he was about six two and lean. Last night he’d worn a Stetson, but tonight he was bareheaded, revealing dark-brown hair clipped close on the sides with the top about three inches long.

  Zach Irving was a couple inches shorter than Ben. He had sandy hair and the same dark eyes, though not quite as friendly. Both were dressed in jeans, boots, and short-sleeved shirts. Judging from the bronze tone of their skin, it looked like they might spend a large amount of time outdoors.

  “We want to talk to you about Nate Fletcher,” Stella said, cutting right to the chase.

  Ben’s eyes took on a serious cast. “Tyler Redman called early this morning. Horrible news.”

  “What do you know about it?”

  “Just what I was told. That someone shot and killed Nate last night.”

  Mattie studied the two. While Ben showed the appropriate amount of dismay, Zach appeared to be searching their faces, his eyes darting between hers and Stella’s. Nervous.

  “When did you meet Nate?” Stella asked.

  “We never had the chance to. We found his website and signed up for a fishing trip. I spoke to him on the phone once to be sure all the arrangements had been made, but we never met in person.”

  So far Ben seemed to be doing all the talking, which Mattie thought rather odd.

  Stella continued to question both of them. “Where were you last night?”

  “I was at the dance here in town. Zach’s engaged to be married soon, so he stayed here at the motel like a good boy.” Ben tossed a smile in his friend’s direction. “Evidently, that puts an end to all his fun.”

  Stella gave him a tight smile. “Could I see some identification, please?”

  Zach cleared his throat, his voice crackling with tension as he spoke for the first time. “Are we in some kind of trouble here?”

  “No trouble. You’re in the unfortunate position of having an appointment with a man who was shot and killed last night. We need to clear you in order to move on with our investigation.”

  Both men produced California driver’s licenses, the identification on which matched the names they’d given earlier. Mattie recorded the license numbers and their addresses, then handed them back to their owners.

  Stella continued with the drill. “I need to ask a few more questions.”

  Zach gave her a hard stare. “Do we need an attorney?”

  Since he’d mentioned it, Mattie had to wonder the very same thing.

  Stella answered. “Not that I’m aware of, sir. This is strictly routine.”

  True. Typically, interviews were strictly routine … until they weren’t. Zach’s nervous behavior and his lack of an alibi made Mattie’s radar light up.

  “And where were the two of you this evening around six o’clock?” Stella asked, moving on to Wilson’s death.

  His body language still open and relaxed, Ben Underwood answered for both of them. “We took a drive into the high country.” He paused, apparently thinking. “I think we were somewhere on the pass west of Willow Springs around six.”

  “Can anyone vouch for seeing you around that time?” Stella asked. “Did you stop for dinner or gasoline so that you have receipts?”

  Ben and Zach exchanged looks before Ben answered. “We ate dinner here in Timber Creek at that little diner.”

  Clucken House, Mattie thought. It would be easy enough to check to see if they were telling the truth.

  “What time?” Stella asked.

  “We got back to town about eight. Went to dinner soon after,” Ben said.

  That would’ve been well after the time Wilson Nichol was shot. The two could’ve easily killed him and made it back to town to eat around eight.

  “Do either of you know a real estate broker from Willow Springs named Wilson Nichol?” Stella asked, addressing both of them, evidently trying to draw a response from Zach.

  Zach gave Ben a sidelong glance before he spoke. “I know who he is. I’ve spoken with him on the phone recently.”

  The glance and his reply sharpened Mattie’s attention. This admission linked Zach Irving to both Nate and Wilson.

  Stella pursued more information. “What did you discuss with Mr. Nichol?”

  “Business,” Zach said. “I’m interested in rural property development. He and I spoke about various properties he could show me.”

  “And you, Mr. Underwood,” Stella said. “Do you know Wilson Nichol?”

  “I don’t, ma’am. I’m a building contractor. Zach and I work together after he acquires the property he wants to develop, so I haven’t met or spoken with Mr. Nichol.”


  Stella trained her gaze on Zach. “I’m sorry to tell you that Mr. Nichol was killed this evening.”

  His brow shot up and he took a step back. “What?”

  Stella remained silent, and Mattie studied both men’s reactions. While Zach appeared surprised and then shaken, Ben’s reaction was less specific. He seemed surprised at first, but the affable expression he wore returned within seconds, which made Mattie wonder if he used it as a mask.

  Zach stared at Stella. “Wilson was killed. How?”

  “He was shot.”

  Zach’s posture was tight with tension. “Like Nate?”

  “Both homicides are under investigation,” Stella said.

  Zach’s gaze jumped from Stella to Mattie. “What’s going on in this town? Two men have been shot and killed?”

  “That’s right,” Stella said, focusing on Zach. “Do you know anything about either of these men that might help us in our investigation?”

  Mattie continued to study the pair while they held eye contact with each other. They didn’t use words, but she wondered if they were sharing some type of nonverbal communication just the same.

  Ben gave a small nod to his friend, and Zach was the first to answer. “I truly don’t know much about either of these men except for the business we’ve talked about over the phone. I’m sorry, but I can’t help you.”

  “And I know even less than he does,” Ben said, tipping an open palm toward his friend.

  Zach looked at Stella. “Is it safe for us to even go on this fishing trip?”

  “I don’t know,” Stella said. “You might consider canceling it.”

  The two looked at each other again before Ben spoke. “The trip’s bought and paid for, and Nate’s wife says she can’t afford to give us a refund. We’re here, so we might as well go ahead with it.”

  “I’ll talk to Tyler,” Zach said, straightening his shoulders as if to release tightness.

  Ben looked at Stella. “Is there anything more you need from us tonight, Detective?”

  “Just one more thing. We have a strict no-narcotics policy in our town. It’s routine that we use our K-9 to sweep vehicles passing through on the highway. We’d like your permission to do a quick narcotics sweep of your vehicle here, and then we’ll be on our way.”

  Zach crossed his arms over his chest. “Absolutely not! This feels like harassment. Small-town cops trying to pin something on the out-of-town guys.”

  So far Mattie had been observing in silence, but it was her turn to step up. “Our local businesses cooperate with our policy, and I have permission for my dog to take a sniff here in this parking lot.”

  Zach looked at her, shaking his head. “If that dog scratches the paint, I’ll sue your department for damages.”

  “He’s trained in a passive method of indication, so he doesn’t damage property. You can observe.”

  She turned to go to her Explorer, and as she approached, Robo started his happy dance, his head bobbing behind the front seats. He’d probably been watching the entire time, wondering when it would be his turn to play. It took mere seconds to prep him, and when she slipped on his narcotics detection collar, it focused all that eagerness into work. She clipped on his leash and used the phrase that would communicate his mission. “You want to find some dope? Let’s go!”

  As she led Robo to the Cadillac, he trotted beside her at heel, his eyes pinned to her face. She noticed that Zach had removed himself from the others and was standing back on the sidewalk, arms crossed, his face darkened by a scowl. “This is ridiculous,” he muttered as Mattie drew near.

  She ignored him. After one last thump on Robo’s rib cage, she told him again to search. It was what he’d been wanting and all he needed to transform into a slinky, sniffing machine. Ears pinned, Robo took in scent while Mattie guided him in a counterclockwise search of the car. She asked him to pay extra attention by using her hand to direct his nose to the cracks at the doors, into wheel wells, and under bumpers. When he finished, he turned his head toward Mattie, his eyes glued to her face as he awaited his next instruction.

  No hit. She trusted Robo’s talent and training—the Cadillac was clean of narcotics. Disappointed that her drug-running theory involving these out-of-towners—which could have suggested a motive for both homicides—no longer existed, Mattie looked at Stella and then Zach. “It’s clean.”

  With Robo latched onto her heel, she led him toward her unit while Stella wrapped up the interview. Even though she’d found no trace of narcotics, there was something about these two that bothered her. It was as if they were keeping some type of secret. And if it wasn’t drugs, maybe it was murder.

  FOURTEEN

  Eager to see his kids, Cole stood on the front porch, waiting for them to arrive while watching the dogs patrol the yard. Angie had called him after they crossed the last mountain pass to let him know they were about a half hour away, and that had been twenty-five minutes ago.

  Their Bernese mountain dog, Belle, finished her business first and came to stand with him on the porch, while his Doberman pinscher, Bruno, continued to circle the yard, sniffing every flower bed and bush he came to. Cole placed a hand on Belle’s head and stroked the satiny fur between her ears while she looked up at him with her soft, dark eyes. He knew she would be especially excited to see Sophie, while Bruno was always happy to see anyone who would play with him, though he seemed to be most attached to Cole.

  Lights pierced the darkness at the end of the lane, turning from the highway toward the house. Belle and Bruno both alerted, ears pricked and barking.

  “Okay, you two, that’s enough. I see it.” Cole moved down the steps to the sidewalk with the dogs trotting out ahead, woofing under their breath.

  Jessie steered her red Toyota Prius up to the edge of the yard and parked. Sophie sprang from the car as soon as it stopped.

  “Belle!” Sophie ran to her dog with open arms while Belle frolicked to greet her, tail beating a breakneck rhythm, the limp from last summer’s gunshot wound the only thing slowing her down.

  By this time, Sophie was down in the grass, cooing to Belle as she hugged her and making Cole feel like chopped liver. “Hey, Sophie-bug, you got a hug for your poor old dad?”

  Sophie giggled as she stood and turned toward Cole, her brown eyes lit and her freckled cheeks bunched in a grin. Nine years old and she could make his heart melt with one smile. He hated to think about her growing into a more reserved teenager, but he supposed that would happen someday. He gathered her into his arms for a hug, sweeping her off her feet and then setting her back on the ground near Bruno, who was prancing around with an open-mouthed, tongue-lolling grin of his own. He was just as smitten with Sophie as Belle.

  Sophie gave him his due, spreading her hugs around freely. “Bruno, you big old boy! How ya been?”

  Speaking of reserved teens, sixteen-year-old Angela had stepped out of the car and was observing Sophie’s homecoming with a pleased expression. Cole registered the look and thought how much his eldest had matured this past year. Before, she’d picked on her younger sister at every turn, and now she’d adopted an almost maternal relationship with her. He didn’t know if that was good or bad. Was it a normal part of her getting older, or a residual from Sophie’s kidnapping? He hoped for the former.

  “Glad you’re home, Angel,” he said as he approached her for a hug. She gave him a peck on his cheek, which told him he must be in her good graces—at least for the moment. Angela was tall and willowy and had the white-blond hair and blue eyes of her mother. Dark circles under her eyes spoke to the stress she’d been under. He drew her up against his side and held her close while he leaned forward to wave at his sister through the open door. “Hey, Jessie. How was the trip down?”

  “Uneventful.” Jessie was gathering up her cell phone and her glasses case and putting them into her handbag, a large turquoise-leather affair that looked like it held everything but the kitchen sink. His kid sister, who’d once been a rugged tomboy, had the appearance of the a
ttorney she was, her light-brown hair highlighted and cut into a wispy style. “Did you already eat dinner?”

  It was well after ten o’clock, so her question surprised him. “I did. Did you guys skip dinner?”

  “Oh, no. We stopped along the way, but Sophie says she’s hungry.”

  “Well, come inside, little bit. I’ve got some leftover lasagna in the fridge that Mrs. Gibbs made. We can make you a hot plate special.” While Sophie scooted for the front porch, the dogs galloping behind her, Cole stayed and helped carry in luggage. As they breached the entryway, he spoke to Jessie. “I don’t think Mrs. Gibbs would mind if you stayed in her room.”

  Jessie shook her head. “I wouldn’t intrude on her private space. I’ll take the extra twin bed in Sophie’s room.”

  They left the bags at the base of the stairs and followed Sophie into the kitchen. Cole was surprised that Angela came, too, having thought she might prefer to head on up to her own room. Pleased that she wanted to join them, he gave her another quick hug. “It’s nice to have you kids home again.”

  “We need to talk, Dad.”

  Uh-oh, he should have guessed. “In private or with Sophie?”

  Angie gave him an impatient look, the kind that said he’d asked a stupid question. “All of us. Sophie has questions that are way beyond my ability to answer.”

  “Let’s get some food on the table, and we’ll sit down and talk things over.” Sophie was already shoulders-deep into the refrigerator, so he went over to help her sort through things to find the pan of lasagna.

  He and Jessie kept up the chitchat while they heated leftovers. Angela set forks on the table, and soon they were all at their seats. Belle took her place beside Sophie, hoping for a tidbit, while Bruno settled beneath the table at Cole’s feet. He had the feeling they both sighed with pleasure that their family was all in one place again.

  In years past, this situation with Olivia would have made Cole talk “at” his kids, but months of family counseling had taught him to become a better listener. Once they’d polished off enough of the meal to banish the hungries, Cole turned to his oldest. “What do you want to talk about, Angel?”