Tracking Game Page 6

  He fought to keep himself from yawning. “A cup of coffee?”

  She gazed at Garrett as if willing him to awaken. “That would be nice.”

  Cole thought he knew the answer but decided to ask anyway. “Do you want to take a walk, go get it yourself? I’ll stay with him.”

  “No. You go.”

  Just thinking about food made his belly rumble. It had been a long, hard night. “I’ll be right back.”

  Cole found the alcove where the nurse had said they could get coffee and snacks. He poured two cups of the dark brew, grabbed a couple packets of sugar and creamer, and placed them on a tray. He decided to check the refrigerator, found containers of yogurt and Jell-O, and selected two of each. He snagged bananas from a fruit bowl, some packets of crackers and cookies, topped off his tray with utensils and napkins, and then headed back toward the room.

  When he entered, he was startled to find Leslie on her feet hovering over Garrett, gripping his hand, shoulders bent and heaving. Cole set the tray on the bedside table as he rushed toward her. When he followed her gaze to his friend’s face, his breath caught.

  Garrett’s eyes were open, and he was staring up at his wife.

  Cole placed his arm around Leslie, her shoulders still twitching with sobs that she held inside, silently crying. “Hi, Garrett,” he said softly.

  Garrett’s lips twisted in a quirky half smile. “Hey. What are we doin’ here?”

  “You’re in the hospital.” Cole pushed the button to call for the nurse. “You remember getting hurt?”

  Garrett frowned and winced as if the movement alone pained him. “How?”

  Unsure how much he should say, Cole dropped his arm from Leslie’s shoulders and leaned against the bed rail. “You got hit on the head.”

  “That explains the headache.” Garrett’s eyes went back to Leslie, and he raised the hand she still clung to so that he could touch the tears on her face. “Don’t cry, sweetheart. I’m okay.”

  She moved his hand to her lips and pressed them against it. She choked on her first attempt to speak, cleared her throat, and tried again, this time managing a shaky voice. “We’ll see if they can give you something for the pain.”

  The nurse came in, took one look, and bustled over to the other side of the bed where she could read Garrett’s vitals on the monitor. “Nice to see you’re awake, Garrett. How do you feel?”

  He squinted at her, then closed one eye. “Head hurts like a son of a gun.”

  “We’ll get you something for that.” She asked him to squeeze her hands, checked his pupils, and asked him to say his full name, all of which he responded to like a champ. But when she asked him what year it was, he hesitated.

  Garrett checked in with Leslie. “Nineteen ninety?”

  Leslie grimaced. The nurse didn’t even bat an eye. She corrected him and told him to repeat the date aloud. “Try to remember that, okay? We’ll be asking you what year it is every time we come to check on you. Let’s see if you can remember it next time, but don’t worry if you can’t. Things will clear up in time. I’ll be right back with that pain medication.”

  After the nurse left, Garrett reached for Leslie’s hand and looked at Cole. “Didn’t know there would be a quiz. Embarrassing.”

  Cole took a stab at levity. “Hell, doesn’t she know that you go around not knowing what year it is half the time anyway?”

  Garrett tried to smile before turning sober. “There was an explosion.”

  “That’s right.” Cole turned serious as well. “Do you remember anything more about it?”

  “Doyle.” Garrett met Leslie’s eyes. “Did I get him out in time?”

  Cole worried when Garrett said the wrong name, but Leslie touched her husband’s cheek. “It was Nate, dear,” she said. “And you got him out before the van caught on fire.”

  “I meant Nate.” He looked at Cole, appeared to try to focus, and then closed one eye. “He had blood on his shirt.”

  Cole nodded, wanting to confirm that his friend had remembered it right this time, but afraid to mention Nate’s death.

  “He was shot, wasn’t he?”

  Cole hesitated before replying. “Apparently so.”

  “Dead?”

  “Uh … yeah.” Cole hated being the bearer of such bad news. “But you got him out of the van before it burned. He was dead when Mattie and I arrived, and it looked like the gunshot killed him.”

  Garrett closed his eyes. “I thought he was dead when I tried to lift him.”

  Cole touched his shoulder. “You did all you could and then some.”

  Garrett opened his eyes, squinted, and closed one eye again to focus in on Leslie. “Are you all right? You weren’t hurt, were you?”

  “No, sweetheart. I was far enough away when the van blew.”

  Cole had grown concerned about the squinting and eye closing. “What’s wrong with your eyes, Garrett? Why do you keep closing that one?”

  “Sometimes there’s two of you, bud. You’re ugly enough when there’s only one.”

  The nurse came back with a glass of ice water and medicine in a little cup. She pressed the button to elevate the head of the bed while Cole told her Garrett was seeing double. She nodded as she placed a small pill in Garrett’s mouth with a gloved hand and held the straw so he could reach it. “Let’s see if you can swallow this. That’s good. No problem, eh?”

  Garrett licked his upper lip. “No, ma’am.”

  She set down the water and then held up two fingers on both hands, asking him to count.

  “There’s four,” he said with his quirky half smile. “But that’s easy … count and divide by two.”

  “Fair to say that you’ve got some double vision going on?” she asked.

  “Comes and goes.”

  “We’ll let the doctor know. She’s already ordered another scan for this morning to make sure everything’s stable inside your head.” She smiled as she said it and straightened the covers.

  “What’s going on inside my head?”

  Her attention was on the monitor beside his bed. “Your doctor will be in to see you soon. She can answer your questions.”

  Good way to pass the buck, Cole thought.

  After the nurse left, Garrett turned to Cole again and gave him that squinty-eyed look. “I saw fire boiling out the back end of that van, and I knew I needed to move fast to get Nate out before the gas tank blew.”

  His friend’s vision might not be right, but his memory seemed to be coming back strong.

  Leslie was nodding. “Garrett told me to back the truck away, and I called 911. When the van exploded, I dropped the phone and ran to him.” She looked at Cole. “I dragged him as far away as I could, and then you came.”

  Garrett had rested his head on his pillow and closed his eyes. “And did someone say that Mattie was there?”

  “Yes,” Leslie said, “she came with Cole.”

  Garrett pinned him with one eye. “You two were together?”

  “We were at the dance when we heard the explosion.”

  “You were at the dance with Mattie?” Garrett closed the one eye he’d been using on Cole, relaxing as the pain medicine did its job, his face peaceful. “You’d better grab her if she’ll have you, bud. Only one woman in the world better than that one, and I’ve already got her.”

  Garrett smiled as Leslie touched his shoulder, and then he drifted off to sleep.

  * * *

  The doctor came and went. Garrett slept through her visit, but she said she would be back after he’d had his brain scan and she’d seen the results. She told Leslie that the hematoma they’d found the night before was in a place in his brain that might affect his vision, but all things considered, his medical status looked good. She stressed that it was early yet, and if the scan showed that the bleeding in Garrett’s brain had stopped, they would keep him for observation and have the therapy department assess his functional abilities. Sounded like a good plan to Cole, and he set his hopes on the scan showing the ri
ght results.

  Focusing on Garrett’s pale face, his every breath, and his heart monitor were all beginning to drive Cole crazy. “I need to make a phone call, Leslie. I’ll be right down the hall by the elevator, okay?”

  “Go get some breakfast if you want to.”

  He’d already eaten everything on the tray that he’d brought for Leslie. “I’ll grab some more snacks before I come back.”

  As he walked, he pulled his cell phone from his pocket and dialed Mattie. She answered on the first ring, and it gave his achy heart a lift to hear her voice. He drifted over toward a window where he could at least see the world outside the hospital. “How are you doing?”

  “I’m fine. Stella and I are about to leave the van to do one more interview before we head home to get a few hours’ sleep. How are you?”

  Cole thought she sounded tired. “Doing better,” he said. “Garrett’s awake. Well, he’s sleeping at the moment, but he woke up and talked to us for a few minutes.”

  He heard her release a breath. “That’s good news.”

  Cole summarized Garrett’s condition. “We’ll know for sure about the hemorrhage here in a bit. Still waiting for him to go downstairs for the scan.”

  “Will you call me when you know more?”

  “Will do.” He paused, wondering if he should ask about the case. “How’s everything going?”

  “Stella and I spoke with Kasey and her parents. That was hard.” She paused, and he wondered if she was reliving the moment. “Cole, you mentioned you knew the Redman family. That includes Tyler, right?”

  “I do know Tyler.”

  “Did you see him at the dance last night?”

  “I did. He was there with Jasmine Pierce. Her parents own the trout farm out south of town. Why?”

  “We met him at the Redman house last night, and that’s what he told us. He said he left the dance early to go back to her place.”

  Cole tried to think of when he’d seen him, because he knew without asking that Mattie was trying to confirm an alibi. “I can’t recall exactly when I saw him, but it was earlier in the evening. I can’t tell you when they left.”

  “Stella tried to call Jasmine, but no answer.” She paused again, and Cole waited to see if she had anything more to say about the case. “Have you heard any rumors about Nate Fletcher and drug use?”

  That was a surprise. He wondered why the case had headed in that direction. “No, nothing.”

  “Do you do his vet work?”

  “I do all the Redman Ranch horse work. They have about thirty head most of the time.”

  “Have you ever suspected drug use?”

  “Not at all. Nate Fletcher is a good ol’ boy. You know what I mean? Pure country. Likes to fish and hunt and probably pounds down his share of beer, but he’s always sober when I go out to their place. I’ve never suspected he was under the influence of anything.”

  “Okay.”

  “Uh, why do you ask?”

  “I don’t trust these cell phone connections, so I’d rather talk about it in person. When do you plan to come home?”

  “I’ll stay with Leslie until after we talk to the doctor about Garrett’s brain scan. Then I’ll decide if I can leave her alone or not.” He wished he could see Mattie in person, be with her face-to-face. There was more he wanted to say to her, and as usual, he felt like this case was pulling her away from him. “What are your plans?”

  “We’ve wrapped up at the crime scene and turned it over to the techs. After we get a few hours’ sleep, we’ll meet back at the office at ten.”

  “I hope you can get some rest.”

  There was a long pause before she spoke. “Have you been able to sleep?”

  “No, but I’m doing all right. Had some coffee.” He realized they’d digressed to chitchat, but the circumstances didn’t feel right for sweet talk.

  “Here comes Stella. I guess I’d better go.” He heard her speak quietly to Robo to load up.

  “Take care of yourself and call me when you can. I won’t call you back for a few hours since I know you’ll be sleeping, but I’ll text you an update when we know more.”

  “You can call me anytime. I doubt if I can sleep.”

  “Love you, Mattie.”

  A short silence before she responded. “You too. Drive carefully when you come home. Don’t fall asleep on the road.”

  “I won’t.”

  After Cole disconnected the call, he paused for a moment. The call was no substitute for being with her in person, but that was as close as Mattie had ever come to confessing any love for him. He sighed as he put his phone back into his pocket and braced himself to go back into Garrett’s room.

  SEVEN

  After finding trace cocaine in Nate Fletcher’s van, Stella had decided it was important to talk to Flint Thornton as soon as possible. As Nate’s sole employee, Flint should know the most about Nate’s business, excluding Kasey and others in the Redman family, of course. But Stella and Mattie wanted to gather as much information as they could before talking about the evidence of drug possession with the family.

  Mattie turned off the highway at a huge wrought-iron sign that said OXBOW RANCH. She rattled over a cattle guard and steered onto a long winding dirt road that would take them through grass pastures toward a tree-shrouded ranch house off in the distance.

  “So this is where Flint Thornton lives?” Stella said. “Pretty big spread.”

  “He lives here with his parents. Nice folks who had to deal with a wild child when he was growing up. They were pretty involved, from what I could tell.”

  “It happens.” Stella shrugged as if dismissing the ways of the world. “How old is Flint now?”

  Mattie thought about it but couldn’t come up with the answer. “I can’t tell you, but I know he’s no longer a minor. Haven’t seen him in years. His offenses were all committed as a juvenile and his record is closed.”

  “We’ll see what he has to tell us. If drugs were a part of those hunting trips, he would know about it.”

  “I think so, too.” Mattie breached the copse of cottonwoods around the ranch house and pulled to a stop in front of it.

  The house was a sprawling log one-story with a porch swing hanging under the eaves. Instead of lawn, the space had been left natural, with a row of pine planted out front. Flower beds were scattered here and there in patches of sunlight, and a hose stretched from a house spigot sprinkled some young pansies. No sooner had Mattie put on her parking brake than a man stepped out the front door.

  Tall and rugged, he had graying brown hair and a mustache that was more salt than pepper. He wore denims, a western shirt, and a frown of concern. Mattie recognized him as Flint’s dad, John David Thornton, also known as JD.

  Stella and Mattie exited the Explorer and met him at its front. After exchanging greetings and introductions, he peered at Mattie with amber eyes under bushy eyebrows threaded with wild gray hairs. “I know you,” he said.

  “Yes, sir. We’ve met before.”

  “You’ve taken over the police dog work for the sheriff.”

  “I have.” Mattie gestured toward the back of the SUV, where Robo watched from the window, ears pricked. “That’s Robo.”

  When drug traffic had threatened the peaceful town of Timber Creek, local merchants and ranchers had gathered together to raise money to purchase a narcotics detection dog. Thus Robo had a certain star quality within the community. Though Mattie didn’t know each donor personally and the donor list wasn’t for public consumption, she suspected this man might have been part of the fund-raising effort.

  He studied Robo for a few beats while Robo gazed back at him. “Looks like a fine dog.”

  “He is, sir. I’m grateful to have him for a partner.”

  JD quirked a corner of his lips and set his attention back on her. “What can I do for you?”

  Since Mattie seemed to have the rapport, she took the lead. “We’re hoping to speak with Flint. Is he home?”

  The line bet
ween JD’s bushy brows deepened. “He is. I suppose you want to talk to him about Nate Fletcher.”

  This last bit came as a surprise. “Yes, sir. How did you learn about Nate?”

  “Tyler called early this morning, needing Flint’s help. Nate had a trip scheduled for tomorrow that Tyler plans to go ahead with, so he wanted Flint to help him get ready.”

  “I see.” Mattie glanced at the house. “Could we speak with Flint, please?”

  JD gave an abrupt nod and went to the front door. He opened it and shouted inside to Flint, telling him to come out because someone wanted to talk to him. Mattie thought it odd that he didn’t clarify that the “someone” was the police, but maybe it was this dad’s way of letting his adult son stand on his own two feet.

  “He said he’d be out in a minute,” JD said, coming back to join them.

  Stella took a step forward. “Did you know Nate well, Mr. Thornton?”

  “Well enough. Flint has worked for him over a year now. Most of us ranchers know each other up and down the valley.”

  Mattie couldn’t help but wonder if Flint had fallen back into his old habits and Nate had become his supplier. She hoped she could get a feel for that sometime during this interview.

  Stella continued. “We’re out doing sort of a canvass of the neighborhood. Asking folks if they’ve seen or heard anything that might help us with our investigation.”

  “Tyler said Nate was shot.”

  “That’s right.”

  Hard lines of judgment creased JD’s face. “That’s a terrible thing. I have no idea who might do something like that.”

  “Speaking to Flint is also routine. He should be able to tell us about Nate and his customers.” Stella seemed to be trying to reassure the father.

  “You think one of his customers did it, then?”

  “Hard to say. We’re exploring every possibility.” Stella wore a pleasant expression as she posed her next question. “Do you happen to know if Flint was with Nate yesterday? Helping get ready for the trip, I mean.”

  JD tucked his thumbs into the front pockets of his jeans, and Mattie sensed that he knew exactly what Stella was doing—trying to get information about his son’s whereabouts at the time of the murder. “From what I was told, Nate was out of town yesterday on a trip to Nebraska for supplies. Flint worked at the Redman place until about four and then came home to get ready for the dance.”