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  Cole continued to hold her hand as he studied her. “The way he died is a horrible thing, Mattie. Are you going to be all right?”

  She turned away from him to look out her window, struggling to control the urge to weep. The console between the bucket seats acted as a barrier, but Cole scooted as close as he could and reached to place his arm around her shoulders. He drew her gently against his chest. The comfort of his embrace tipped the balance, and Mattie couldn’t hold her tears back any longer. She buried her face against him and sobbed, while he stroked her hair and murmured his sympathy.

  When she quieted, Cole shifted slightly, still holding her close, and then offered her his handkerchief. She tried to pull away, but Cole adjusted his arm so that she could face front and he continued to hold her, pressing his lips against her hair. Spent, she leaned against his shoulder and wiped her eyes and wet cheeks with his bandana.

  “How can I help?” Cole asked.

  She squeezed shut her eyelids and fought the temptation to withdraw, her fallback move. “It helps to talk.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “When we were kids,” she said, “Willie and I spent a lot of time together. Most of the attention we got from our dad was abusive, and our mom seemed preoccupied. She loved us, but she didn’t play with us like you do with your kids. We were on our own.”

  She fought the rising of her sorrow as she gathered her thoughts. “After Willie called me last October, I’ve been working with a counselor to deal with repressed memories from my childhood. Willie remembered more about what happened to me than I do.”

  A shiver forced Mattie to stop and catch her breath before continuing. “Now he’s gone. I wasted all that time, and he’s gone.”

  “Maybe you don’t have to remember everything. Maybe what’s important is the here and now.”

  Mattie wasn’t sure he fully understood the complexity of the situation, but she appreciated his comment.

  Cole continued to speak. “Your brother is gone, but you’re not alone, Mattie. Your foster mother, the people you work with, the kids and me, even Mrs. Gibbs—we all care about you. You’ve got us.”

  She was nodding her agreement even as he finished talking. “I’ll remember that. Thanks for reminding me.”

  Her cell phone signaled a text message coming in, and she moved away from him, straightening in her seat so that she could take her phone from her pocket to check it. “It’s from Riley. Her dad’s working at the bar tonight and she wants to come over.”

  Cole held his watch up to the moonlight. “It’s after ten. Kind of late for that, isn’t it?”

  “Probably, but I need to talk to her about a job helping Mama T.” She began to text a reply. “I’ll tell her to stay home, and that I’ll call her in about ten minutes.”

  “She can start work at my place any day. How about tomorrow?”

  “I’ll let her know. I really appreciate this, Cole.”

  “We can use the help.”

  “I supposed I’d better go home now,” Mattie said, although she wasn’t sure that she wanted to leave him for the silence of her house.

  “All right.” He leaned forward to press a tender kiss on her lips that made her want to cry again. Then he gave her a keen look as he started the truck and shifted it into reverse. “Will you call me tomorrow?”

  “Okay. After work.”

  “I won’t let you forget.”

  NINETEEN

  Wednesday

  Cole slept poorly and awoke before sunrise, haunted by images of William’s gravesite, something he would most likely never forget. Poor Mattie. Those images would be with her forever, too.

  On Lookout Mountain last night, he’d recognized again that there were things that Mattie didn’t want to share with him. Which was okay—he didn’t need for her to, unless it was something she wanted. But now he worried that there were terrible things in her past, things so horrible that she’d repressed the memory of them, and that was a whole different ballgame. How could he help her heal from those past experiences and gain happiness in her present life?

  Unable to fall back asleep, he decided to go to the clinic to check on his patients, two dogs that he’d spayed yesterday afternoon. He showered and dressed quickly and then jogged the short distance up the lane, unlocked the front door, and let himself in. Turning on lights as he made his way back to the kennel room, he was gratified to see that both dogs were awake from the anesthesia and resting in their cages. He splashed a small amount of water into their bowls, which were elevated on the cage doors so the dogs could reach the water but not harm themselves by falling in before fully conscious. Both roused themselves and were steady on their feet when they stood to lap the water. They would be ready to discharge to their homes this morning.

  A bit later, the door opened, and his office assistant, Tess Murphy, sang out her usual melodic greeting. “Hi, hi.”

  “In here,” he called to her.

  Tess came through the lobby and joined him in the treatment room. Some might have thought her spiky red hair was still mussed from sleep, but that was just the way she wore it. “You’re here early,” she said.

  “What time is it?” Cole glanced at the clock—shortly after seven. “Oh gosh, I lost track. I’d better run to the house to say goodbye to the kids before they leave for school. When’s our first client?”

  Tess went back to the lobby to check the schedule. “Eight o’clock,” she called through the opening between the lobby and treatment room.

  “Then I’d better hustle.”

  As he sprinted toward home, he thought of Mattie. He’d hated leaving her alone last night. He decided to send her a text to tell her he was thinking about her. And he would make sure that he got to see her tonight, even if he had to show up again on her doorstep.

  * * *

  When Mattie received Cole’s text, she and Robo were already at the station. She’d helped Stella rearrange the furniture in the briefing room so they could set up the boards for their investigations. Now, instead of just one board for Willie’s case, they had added another board for the three skeletons that had been found.

  Stella had enlarged a photo of Willie that she’d received from Tamara, and she’d taped it to the top of his board. He looked handsome and untroubled as he leaned over a car engine, his hands reaching for some part inside and a smile on his lips that touched off a twinkle in his dark eyes. He had a mop of brunette hair the same color as Mattie’s. Seeing the photo nearly broke her heart.

  McCoy entered the room, followed by Agent Rick Lawson who held a sheaf of papers and a tablet in his hand. Brody was still at the gravesites on Redstone Ridge, and his absence felt strange.

  They each took a seat. Robo had been watching Mattie work from a spot near the wall, but when she sat, he padded over, circled twice, and lay down beside her chair. He heaved a sigh of contentment, and she stroked his head. Not everyone was fortunate enough to have their best friend accompany them to work every day.

  McCoy gave Stella a nod. “Go ahead and take the lead. The rest of us will jump in as we go.”

  Stella had already recorded autopsy results on Willie’s board, and the others had discussed them the evening before. Much to Mattie’s relief, it wasn’t necessary to rehash those details. Instead, Stella opened with the current agenda. “Let’s discuss information from the three gravesites that were excavated yesterday.”

  Lawson spread his papers in front of him. “From the degree of degradation of the skeletonized remains, these three appear to have been burned and buried at around the same time. We’re estimating between twenty to thirty years ago.

  “The two adult skeletons are male, as is the skeleton of the child. Measurement of the child’s femur puts him in the six- to seven-year-old range. It’s harder to estimate the ages of the adults, but best guess is older than twenty-one and younger than forty.”

  Stella pulled out salient bits of information and recorded them on the board as Lawson spoke. He paused to let her ca
tch up, glancing down at his papers before resuming.

  “There’s evidence of projectile penetration in both adult skulls. One skull has both entry and exit wounds while the other has only an entry wound. As you know, we found a slug inside this second skull, which we’ve sent to ballistics to compare to the Desert Eagle pistol. There was evidence of blunt force trauma at the back of the child’s skull, severe enough to be ruled cause of death.”

  Mattie suppressed a shiver. Her muscles were tight enough to spring, and she exhaled slowly, trying to force herself to relax. Robo raised his head, and she put her hand on it to settle them both.

  Lawson continued. “These three graves appear to have been used first as burning pits before the sites were covered with dirt, which is the same MO discovered at the William Cobb gravesite. Of course, we don’t know for sure, but the proximity of the location combined with the identical MO leads us to believe the two crime scenes are probably linked, despite the gap of years between them.”

  During the pause that followed, Stella began recording evidence on the skeletons’ board. “I’m going to list the Desert Eagle pistol that Robo found here,” she said as she wrote. “I’ll put a question mark beside it since we don’t know yet if the slug matches the gun. When should we have those results?”

  “Sometime today,” Lawson said. “And I was able to get a serial number off that pistol. I started a search for registration through the ATF National Tracing Center. If we’re lucky, we could get a hit off that as early as today, too.”

  “Results today would be excellent.” Stella finished recording and looked at Lawson. “Anything else?”

  “Teeth were pretty much intact. It’s not much to go on for ID, but my team is researching missing persons from the time period. You can imagine the numbers they’re up against. All of this is going to take some time.”

  McCoy leaned forward. “What are the chances that these three were affiliated with each other, or even related?”

  “We’re searching for a missing father and son, or two related men and a boy who went missing at the same time. If we turn up a relationship of some kind, it will certainly make the identification easier.”

  “That would indeed be fortunate,” McCoy said. “Anything else to add, Agent?”

  “That’s all for now.”

  Stella walked over to Willie’s board and used her marking pen to point to a column labeled CALIFORNIA PERSONS OF INTEREST as she spoke. “Let’s move on and discuss our first crime scene. Detective Hastings from the Hollywood Detective Bureau interviewed past associates of Mr. Cobb’s, and he’s convinced that they can contribute nothing of value to our case. They haven’t been in touch with our victim for well over six months. With Mr. Cobb, I should say.”

  Stella glanced at Mattie before continuing. “I’ve interviewed William’s girlfriend, Tamara Bennett, and I’ve spoken with his employer, Mr. Joseph Quintana. So far, I’ve uncovered nothing new.”

  Mattie noticed that Lawson had begun to squirm in his chair, as if growing more and more uncomfortable. When Stella paused, he jumped in with what was bothering him.

  “I’m not sure that Deputy Cobb should be a part of this investigation,” he said.

  McCoy straightened. “Deputy Cobb and Robo have uncovered a large part if not all of our evidence. I don’t think she should be eliminated from the team at this point.”

  Lawson sent a sidelong glance in Mattie’s direction. “I’m bringing in cadaver dogs to search for more gravesites at our crime scene today. If we need a dog for another purpose, I can bring one in from the state.”

  “Robo is not just any dog, and he and Mattie aren’t your typical K-9 team,” Stella said with some heat.

  Mattie felt like she should speak up and try to diffuse Stella’s temper. “I appreciate your concern, Agent Lawson, but I believe I still need to be involved in this investigation, and I can remain objective. You can speak freely in front of me.”

  Lawson turned to McCoy, appealing for a decision.

  “We’ll leave the team as it is for now,” McCoy said, his tone indicating he was done with the subject. “What did you want to say, Agent?”

  Lawson’s lips thinned as he clamped them shut. He looked down at his papers before speaking. “Both Tamara Bennett and Deputy Cobb believe that William wouldn’t have come to Timber Creek of his own free will. If that is indeed true, it would lead us to believe that he was abducted and brought here before he was killed. But I’m not sure that makes sense.”

  “We don’t have a motive for him coming by himself from California either,” Stella said.

  “This is awkward with you present, Deputy.” Lawson gave Mattie a pointed look before turning away. “This is pure speculation. Timber Creek has had a drug problem in the past twelve months with a couple of large busts. Maybe Mr. Cobb had become involved with the drug trade. Maybe he was running drugs through town.”

  Stella turned to the board to record his theory. “Any comments?”

  Mattie hated to consider this possibility, but she was determined to project a neutral attitude. “We need to follow up on that idea. If William hasn’t been back in touch with his old gang, are there new contacts he made lately? Did he meet someone when he was in rehab that he connected with?”

  The tension in the room eased somewhat as they all paused to think.

  “Any other ideas regarding motive?” Stella jiggled the marker in her hand.

  McCoy broke the silence that followed her question. “If there aren’t other ideas about motive right now, let’s discuss whether or not we believe the ram shooting is linked to Mr. Cobb’s homicide.”

  Mattie summarized her discussion with Cole. “Someone shot the ram while we were investigating the gravesite. We think this shooter was not a local hunter for a couple of reasons. One, the shooter didn’t pick up his brass, which most hunters do. And two, the shooter didn’t go down to the ram to harvest meat or a trophy; instead, he hid and watched us from the upper part of the ridge.”

  “So we can speculate that the shooter was trying to draw you away from the gravesite?” McCoy asked.

  “Dr. Walker and I both think so.”

  “We should receive word today on whether or not the casing Robo found and the slug from the ram carcass match.” Stella started a new column on the board. “Who might have been up in that area on Sunday? Any ideas on who might have shot that ram?”

  Mattie hated to bring up Riley’s father, but she felt like she had to. “Dr. Walker sewed up a horse that got cut on a mountain trail last Sunday. The owner is from California and new to town. His name’s Bret Flynn. He told Cole that he was on a different trail, but one of us should talk to him about it. Check out his hunting rifle to see what kind of ammo it uses.”

  “We should also look at Tucker York,” McCoy said. He explained for Lawson’s benefit. “He’s the Wildlife Department supervisor out of Denver. The day Dr. Walker found William’s partial remains, York insisted on going up to the area by himself. He was at the meadow alone for hours before the rest of us could get up there.”

  Stella turned to McCoy with a bemused expression. “What about Ed Lovejoy?”

  “He wasn’t available to shoot the ram,” Mattie said. “He was riding down the trail with you that afternoon.”

  “He started out with us, but then he split off about halfway down, saying he wanted to scout elk in the lower meadow and get a head count.”

  McCoy nodded. “Put him on the list. We need to talk to him.”

  Ed Lovejoy, Mattie thought. I’ve known him for years. Hard to believe the local wildlife manager would have anything to do with Willie’s death, much less shoot a ram out of season. But it was also strange that he’d split off from the party on Sunday afternoon.

  “Any others?” Stella asked.

  “This might be nothing,” Mattie said, “but I’m thinking of that California connection. Gibson Galloway, the man we arrested Saturday night for disorderly conduct. He’s from Bakersfield, and I think he deserve
s some investigation. We released him Sunday morning, and I remember that there were rifles racked in the back window of his truck. All of his weapons should be listed on the arrest report. He and his buddies had a trailer full of horses and ample time to ride up to the Ridge.”

  “Any of this could lead to nothing, but we won’t know until we look into it,” Stella said. “What else do we have?”

  Mattie put her elbows on the table and leaned on them to help steady her emotion. She fought to project an air of detachment. “We found horseshoe and cowboy boot prints up at the crime scene. I know they were too washed-out to get a clear casting, but the boot measurement indicates a male, which suggests at least one man accompanied William to the crime scene, probably on horseback.”

  “And when horses are involved, so are trucks and trailers,” McCoy said. “I’ll put a notice in the newspaper asking for tips regarding a rig spotted at the trailhead parking lot. During what time period, Agent Lawson?”

  “That crime scene couldn’t have been more than four days old. Let’s say Thursday through Sunday.”

  “We’ll see if we can turn up any tips,” McCoy said.

  Mattie hoped they could uncover pivotal information soon. She was sure that Willie had been brought to Timber Creek against his will. But for the life of her, she had no idea why.

  The silence deepened until McCoy broke it. “Agent Lawson, you’re headed back up to the crime scene. Our team will get started investigating these leads.”

  “Good luck, and we’ll check back in later today,” Lawson said.

  Relieved that she was still part of the investigation, Mattie pushed back her chair, ready to get started.

  TWENTY

  Mattie and Stella decided to hit Colorado Parks and Wildlife first and were driving there in Mattie’s SUV with Robo in the back. They hoped to catch Ed Lovejoy in his office—it was early enough that he probably hadn’t yet left for the field.