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

  Trying to put her more at ease, Mattie relaxed back into her own chair. “Angela, thanks for talking with me again. You don’t have to answer any question you don’t want to. I think you’re brave, and I admire you for being so willing to help.”

  Angela nodded, her eyes lowered.

  “We’re pretty sure that Grace’s death had something to do with drugs.” Angela looked up sharply, frowning, but Mattie continued. “Now, you said yesterday that to your knowledge Grace never had anything to do with drugs, and I believe you. But I want you to keep an open mind and think. Is there a chance that she got involved with the drug scene this summer while you’ve been away?”

  Angela started shaking her head even before Mattie had finished her sentence. “No, Grace wasn’t like that. She wouldn’t even smoke a joint.”

  “I hear ya. So what I’m searching for is someone else then. Someone who might have been involved with drugs that she hung out with.” She was thinking of Mike Chadron but needed Angela to be the one to say it.

  Angela expelled a breath of air and swiped at a lock of hair that had fallen toward her face. “Okay, some of our friends smoke weed. Once in a while. But I’m not going to tell you who they are.” She met Mattie’s gaze with all the teen defiance she could muster under the circumstances.

  The vet fidgeted in his chair, and Mattie could guess how hard he was working to keep silent.

  “You don’t have to tell me, Angie,” she said in a soft voice. “I’m not interested in those kids right now. But I do need to know of anyone involved in cocaine. Not just students, anyone around town.”

  “None of the kids I know use cocaine. I mean, like I told you before, maybe Tommy O’Malley and his crowd, but I’m not even sure about them. That’s just something I heard from someone who heard, you know? Rumor.” Angela moved around in her chair as if trapped. “I don’t know for a fact about anyone using or selling hard drugs at school or around town. I don’t hang with kids that do hard drugs. And Grace didn’t either. I do know that.”

  Walker leaned forward. “She’s telling you the truth, Deputy. We’ve talked. I believe she can’t give you any more information to help you with that line of your investigation.”

  Mattie was quick to agree. “Oh, I believe she’s telling the truth, too. I’m grateful for that, Angela. And don’t think you’re not helping. Anything you tell us about Grace and what she might have been doing this summer could help us find her killer, even though you might not be able to point a finger at anyone. Let’s shift gears for a minute and talk about Tommy O’Malley.”

  Angela’s eyes opened wide and then narrowed as her brow knit. “Is Tommy a suspect?”

  “Not necessarily.”

  Sophie skipped up with Robo gamboling at her side. “Tommy O’Malley smokes weed,” she piped up.

  “Good Lord,” Walker muttered.

  Frowning, Angela asked, “How do you know that?”

  “His little brother was my kindergarten partner last year.”

  “Kindergarten partner?”

  “The teachers gave each of us second graders a kindergarten kid to read to. I got Sean.”

  Mattie checked in with Walker by giving him a direct look. It was one thing to interview a teenager with her parent’s permission but quite another to question a child Sophie’s age.

  Walker took over. “Did Sean ever say anything about his brother using cocaine? I’m assuming you know all about cocaine, too, you being such an expert.”

  Sophie smiled at him, looking wise beyond her years. “Sure I do. Nope, he only talked about Tommy smoking weed. He says he does it at the park with his friends.”

  “And you know that’s against the law, and if you ever do something like that you’ll not only be in trouble with me but with the police, too?”

  “Drugs are bad, Dad,” Sophie said. “I know that. Mom told me.”

  “I’m just saying, Sophie. So you know what I think, too.”

  Mattie decided to switch topics, trying to see if Angela knew anything about Chadron’s involvement with drugs. “Just one more thing, Angela. Did you happen to remember anything else Grace said about Mike Chadron that could help us?”

  “Dad said he heard Mike killed himself last night,” Angela said.

  “That’s what it looks like.”

  “Grace talked about him a lot, but it was just silly stuff. Nothing about drugs.”

  “Did she happen to mention any of his friends?”

  Angela was shaking her head when a blue Ford pickup truck turned into the lane. Mattie paused her questioning to see who had arrived. The truck parked beside her cruiser, and she recognized the man exiting the vehicle as Garrett Hartman.

  “Oh, no . . .” Sophie moaned. “Here, Angie, take Robo.” The child stuffed Robo’s leash into her sister’s hand and darted into the house, firmly closing the door behind her.

  Mattie wondered what was wrong with her.

  “Uh-oh,” Angela said, tears welling in her eyes. She turned to Mattie. “Mr. Hartman’s going to take Belle home.”

  “Excuse me,” Walker said, pushing up from his chair and going out to greet the man.

  Garrett Hartman stood well over six feet with a rangy build, his craggy face sheltered by a worn felt Stetson. A Viking of a man, he was a familiar figure in town, one of the community’s leaders. His startling blue eyes found Mattie up on the porch, and he seemed to watch her even as he greeted Walker.

  “Here, I’ll take Robo,” Mattie said, reaching for the leash. She moved off the porch, Angela and Robo following.

  “I’m Deputy Cobb, Mr. Hartman,” she said as she approached the two men. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “I know who you are,” he said, clasping Mattie’s extended hand in both of his. “You and your dog found my Grace.”

  Apparently that was all Angela could take, because she burst into sobs.

  “Angie, come here, honey.” Hartman stretched out a long left arm and tucked Angela against his side while still holding Mattie’s hand in his right.

  He continued to speak to Mattie as he gave Angie a comforting squeeze. “My wife and I are eternally grateful. Without you, we might never have known.”

  “I’m glad we were in the right place at the right time. Without the ranger’s call, we wouldn’t have been up there at all.”

  Hartman nodded, his eyes reddened and sad. He gave Mattie’s hand another squeeze and released it. Then he enfolded Angela in both arms and bowed his head over hers, dwarfing the slim girl. “Ah, Angie,” he said quietly. “We’re going to miss her.”

  Feeling awkward and out of place, Mattie wanted to leave, but interrupting their grief seemed inappropriate, so she took a step backward to allow them privacy. Walker placed a comforting hand on Hartman’s shoulder, and his dark eyes searched out hers, including her in the circle. She wished she knew what to say but didn’t, so she waited in silence.

  After gathering himself back into a semblance of control, Hartman squeezed Angie and then set her back away from him, putting an arm over her shoulders. The girl had also quieted her sobs. “There’ll be a funeral for Grace this Wednesday at eleven. You’re welcome to come,” he said to Walker and Mattie.

  “The girls and I will be there,” Walker said while Mattie merely nodded.

  “I can take Belle off your hands now.”

  “She’s inside the house. I’ll go get her,” Walker said.

  “I’ll settle up my bill, too.”

  “No, you won’t. There’s no charge.”

  “I can still pay my way.”

  “Of course you can, but it’s the least I can do to help you and Leslie. If there’s anything else you need, please let me know.” Walker turned and headed toward the porch but hesitated when a charcoal Toyota 4Runner turned up the driveway.

  He changed directions and walked toward the Toyota. Mattie recognized Principal John Brennaman as the newcomer. He exited his car and, holding a covered dish in his left hand, shook hands with Walker. He glanced her w
ay, appearing as surprised to see her as she was to see him.

  “Mattie,” he said to her by way of greeting.

  “Hello, Mr. Brennaman.”

  Robo took a step toward the principal and bristled. “Heel,” Mattie told him, using the leash to give a correction and put him back at her side.

  “Garrett, I see you’re here, too,” Brennaman said in a voice filled with sympathy. “I am so, so sorry. Words cannot express . . .”

  The two clasped hands.

  “Thank you, John. It’s been a horrible shock to Leslie and me.”

  “Of course it has. If there’s anything I can do, anything at all. Well, you know how to reach me.” Brennaman turned his attention to Angela. “Angela, I’m sorry for you, too. I know you’ll miss your friend.”

  Angela remained by Garrett Hartman’s side, droopy and all cried out. She nodded at him, keeping her face slightly downcast. “Thanks.”

  “Cole,” Brennaman said, handing the dish over. “Rosellen baked casseroles today. I’ve been sent to deliver one to you, and then I was planning to take one out to you and Leslie, Garrett. You’ve saved me a trip by both being here in the same place.”

  Walker’s brows shot up as he took the casserole dish. “That’s really nice of her, John, but why is she sending one to us?”

  “Just being neighborly. We hear you’ve been batching it this summer.”

  Walker’s face took on a trace of disgust. “Word does spread around town.”

  Brennaman had the decency to look embarrassed. “I’m sorry, Cole, we’re not a couple of old gossips. Yes, stories spread through this town like wildfire. Besides, I wanted to speak with Angela for a moment if I might.”

  He moved a hand in his daughter’s direction. “She’s here.”

  “I just wanted to let you know, Angela, that we need a student volunteer for the office this year.” He threw an apologetic look at Hartman who bowed his head, allowing the broad brim of his Stetson to shield his eyes. “I’m not sure this is the time to talk about it, so I’ll just mention it and let you talk it over with your dad. It would look good on your high school transcript. I know you’re only a sophomore this year, too young to be thinking of applying for college, but it never hurts to start early.”

  Mattie couldn’t help but compare the principal’s demeanor toward Angela to the way he used to treat her when she was that age. His manner wasn’t quite ingratiating, but it was a long way from the derision he’d once passed her way. Well, she’d be the first to admit she’d been a difficult teenager to like in those days.

  Brennaman made a gesture toward his car. “I should go. Like I said, this isn’t the time for us to talk about it, but maybe you could call me tomorrow to let me know if you’re interested or not. I need to fill that position before school starts if I can.” He paused. “I hope you had lots of time to spend with Grace this summer, Angela.”

  Angela’s face crumpled, and Mattie knew she regretted being away most of the summer. The girl nodded, looking as if she didn’t trust herself to speak.

  “Well, those memories should lessen your pain in time.” He moved to get the second casserole dish to hand to Garrett Hartman.

  The sound of Belle barking furiously came from inside the house. Mattie turned and saw the big dog standing at an open window on the main level, pressing her nose against the screen. She hoped she wouldn’t try to break through it and hurt herself. Walker must have had the same concern, because he quickly shook Brennaman’s hand. “I need to go get Belle. Sounds like she might have heard Garrett and is eager to see him. Please thank your wife for the casserole.” He took the dish with him as he left.

  “Oh, Grace’s dog?” Brennaman said.

  “Yes,” Hartman said. “She got shot, too, but survived.”

  “Oh my . . . what a tragedy. I must go, Garrett, but I hope to see you soon.” As he shook hands with the man, he glanced at Mattie. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Mattie?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I’ll be at the school. Just come anytime. Seems like I live there.” He said good-bye, got into his car, and drove away.

  Mattie noticed that Robo seemed happy to see him go. He looked up at her and waved his tail gently. She smoothed the hair on his back, thinking it was way past time for her to leave. But then, Walker came out of the house, leading Belle with Sophie trailing behind. The young girl carried a large stuffed rabbit that looked like it had seen better years. Even as Mattie watched, she stuck one of the rabbit’s ears into her mouth and clamped her jaw down on it. She appeared even more upset than she’d been yesterday.

  Belle sniffed the yard where the group had been standing as she approached Hartman. He bent to pat on her side, and she leaned against him. When he straightened, he gave both of Walker’s daughters a searching look, and Mattie felt certain that he didn’t miss the girls’ distress over Belle’s departure.

  Sophie continued to suck on the rabbit’s ear as the men loaded Belle into the passenger seat of the pickup. Angela drifted over to her sister, put an arm around her, and stood looking stricken. Mattie could hardly stand it. She led Robo over to touch Angela’s shoulder while Sophie put a hand on Robo’s head.

  “She’s better off going home,” Angela said in a quiet voice.

  Mattie wasn’t quite sure if she spoke to her or to her sister, but she replied, “She’ll be fine.” Belle stared out the windshield at the two girls, though, and Mattie had to wonder.

  Hartman rounded the truck to go to the driver’s side but paused and turned back as if he’d remembered something. “Angie,” he said, “I need to ask you something. Leslie and I noticed that one of Grace’s rings was missing.”

  “Which one is it?”

  “The one we gave her for her sixteenth birthday this summer. Do you know what it looks like?”

  “The gold band with the ruby?”

  “Yes, that’s the one. It’s the only ring she has of any value. Do you think she’d give it to someone?”

  “No way.”

  Hartman looked at Mattie. “It’s missing then. It could’ve been stolen. By . . . by the person who . . .”

  Mattie felt a little surge of adrenalin. This could mean something. “Have you told Detective LoSasso yet?”

  “No, I wanted to check with Angie first.”

  “I’m on my way to meet with her, so I’ll tell her about it. She’ll call you if she needs more information.”

  Hartman drove away, and when Walker joined them, she could see that he wasn’t immune to his daughters’ feelings.

  Static erupted from the radio inside Mattie’s cruiser followed by Rainbow’s voice. “K-9 One. Copy.”

  “Excuse me,” Mattie said. She hurried to the car, Robo trotting beside her. Pressing on the transmitter, she responded with her location, “Timber Creek Veterinary Clinic. Go ahead.”

  “Code ten-nineteen to the station at your earliest convenience. Over.”

  “Ten-four. I’m on my way.”

  Mattie keyed off the transmitter and hung it in its cradle. “I need to get back to the office now,” she said. “But I’ll be in touch.”

  After letting the girls say good-bye to Robo, she loaded him up and got into the cruiser. When they reached the porch, the girls turned to wave. Mattie waved back, thinking they looked awfully lonely, but there was nothing she could do about that. She fired up the engine, eager to get back to the station to see what Stella thought about the missing ring.

  Chapter 18

  Back at the station, Mattie found Sheriff McCoy, Stella, and Brody in the report room gathered around a dry-erase board that had been wheeled from its usual place beside the wall and positioned up front and center. McCoy was seated at a table taking notes in a small spiral booklet while Stella was writing on the board, adding final touches to an information grid she’d made that appeared to outline the current information, evidence, and clues she’d compiled regarding the two Timber Creek deaths. Brody sat at McCoy’s table, arms crossed on his chest.

 
; Mattie took a seat at the table behind them and told Robo to lie down beside her. He did so immediately but remained crouched, ears pricked and alert.

  “I’m glad you’re here, Mattie,” Stella said. “We’ve had a great deal of information come in from forensics this morning. I’m getting ready to start going through it.”

  Brody cleared his throat and twitched his shoulders, rolling his head from side to side as if to release tightness. Stella pointed to the upper middle of her grid where she’d written “Victim 2: Mike Chadron.” Her finger moved down the grid as she described each point.

  “The ME has agreed with me that Mike Chadron doesn’t look like a suicide. He doesn’t have gunshot residue on his hands, and there was no gunpowder stippling at his temple. Most importantly, though, there were no prints on the gun. It appears to have been wiped clean, and suicide victims don’t wipe their weapons after shooting themselves.” Stella gave them a grim smile. “So we’re ruling it death by gunshot wound to the head, manner undetermined. I’m assuming this is another homicide, and we’re going to work it that way.”

  “The crime scene was unorganized,” McCoy said.

  “Yes. In fact, we can say that about both our crime scenes.”

  “Not done by a pro,” Brody said.

  Stella moved her hand to the upper left side of her grid where she’d written “Victim 1: Grace Hartman.” “We’ve uncovered quite a bit of information about our first victim, and I’ve narrowed down a few key points here. First, I got word that the blood type at the cabin matches Grace’s. Let’s assume she was killed at the cabin, moved a mile away, and buried.”

  Mattie raised a hand to interrupt. “I just talked with her father. There’s a ring from one of her fingers missing, a plain gold band with a ruby. He said it’s the only ring of value that she wore.”

  Stella’s brow raised as she turned to write the information on the grid. “What can we make of that?”