Striking Range Read online

  The clang from the horses’ shod feet rang out as the trail transitioned from forest floor to patches of granite slab. She remembered being transported up here the last time, slung over a saddle, moving in and out of consciousness, her senses reeling from the tranquilizer that John Cobb had delivered by shooting a large animal dart into her back.

  Garrett turned to check on her again, and she pasted on her cop face as she met his gaze. She sensed that he knew how she felt, and he sent her an empathetic look before turning away. She didn’t want him to worry about her, and she vowed she’d keep her emotions under control.

  “This is godforsaken land.” Hauck, breaking a silence he had maintained most of the way up, projected his voice from behind. “When did this fire happen again?”

  Garrett turned in his seat to answer. “Last May. Not enough time to recover much.”

  “There’s a little bit of green coming back,” Mattie said, pointing out the places where grasses and brush had taken hold during the past summer.

  Robo trotted ahead as they covered the last bit of rocky ground that led to the area where John Cobb had set up camp. As Mattie approached, she could tell that the pit he’d intended for her was still apparent. Steely anger at the man’s brash stupidity—building a huge fire during a windstorm—filled her with strength.

  “This is where the fire originated,” Garrett told Hauck as he rode past the pit a short distance and then reined to a stop. “When we could get back in here after the fire, the cave was searched thoroughly. But not with Robo.”

  Evidently hearing his name, Robo trotted up to join their little group, wagging his tail as Mattie dismounted and then pressing his body against her legs. She patted his side, making a thin cloud of black dust fly from his fur as the odor of scorched wood filled her mind with a flashback from when Cobb had tried to brand her with an ember on the end of a smoking stick.

  Though sorry she’d missed her chance to interrogate him, she was glad he was dead and he’d never be able to torture or kill again.

  “Were you part of the party that searched here, Garrett?” Hauck asked as he dismounted.

  “I was. I was up here the night of the fire and a couple days after.”

  “So was the search primarily visual?”

  “That’s right.”

  “What did you find?”

  Garrett looked at Mattie, obviously passing the question to her.

  Mattie kept her words even and free from emotion. “They found and took into evidence the rope John Cobb used to bind me and the bola I made with it to protect myself after working my hands free. A charred stick that he intended to burn me with. And they took samples of vomit I left behind when the tranquilizer he used on me made me sick.”

  “Good lord,” Hauck muttered as he searched Mattie’s face.

  She turned away to untie her pack from behind her saddle before he could find any cracks in the mask she’d put up to hide her turmoil. “I’ll take Robo inside the cave and see if he can turn up anything.” She glanced back at Hauck. “He’s trained to search for narcotics, gunpowder, and anything outside of the environmental norm. The cave is the best place to start.”

  “It makes sense that if Cobb buried weapons or drugs up here, he might do it inside a cave,” Hauck said. “You know, to protect it.”

  Mattie placed her pack on a boulder that wasn’t sullied with ash. She found Robo’s collapsible bowl and filled it with water from her supply. He slurped noisily. She replaced his everyday leather collar with one made of blue nylon that he wore for evidence detection.

  As soon as she buckled it on, he gazed up at her with his intelligent eyes, awaiting her direction. She could tell he already knew his mission. It was tied to the equipment: collar meant find an object, harness meant search for a person. Although she’d been his partner now for over a year, his cleverness still amazed her.

  She told him to heel and led him toward the mouth of the cave, hearing the men’s footsteps crunch the gravel on the rocky path behind her—sounds identical to the ones John Cobb had made as he came into the cave that night with the intent to torture her.

  The noise raised an alarm within her solar plexus that was purely driven from cell memory, a phenomenon she’d discussed with her trauma counselor. Triggers from past trauma could activate the flight-or-fight response in survivors at the most unexpected times.

  Well … today she’d expected to be triggered, but that didn’t help her control the surge of adrenaline that hit her system right now. Robo brushed against her leg, prancing on his front feet as he gazed up into her eyes, probably trying to figure out her problem. Her emotions always traveled down the leash to him. She stopped before entering the cave and bent to stroke the velvety black fur between his ears, taking a moment to center herself.

  That night, she’d lain on the floor of the cave, listening for Cobb’s footsteps, her bola tucked beneath her, the rope wrapped over her hands as if they were still tied. The cave spun in cogwheel-like freeze frames, and she had feared that vertigo would overcome her and she wouldn’t be able to fight. But the alternative had been certain death. The adrenaline that hit her system that night gave her the ability to fight off her captor and escape; today she needed to disperse the energy another way. Deep, steadying breaths.

  Stroking Robo’s ears settled her somewhat, and she led him the rest of the way into the cave, an alcove shallow enough for natural light to reveal the interior. She did a visual sweep of the rocky walls and the floor, which was littered with shale and stones. The dank odor of animal scat and decayed remains wafted from its forty-foot depth, creating another feeling of déjà vu from that night.

  Her experience as a law enforcement officer and K-9 handler drove back her fears. She told herself this was just a cave—a rock room twenty feet wide, forty feet deep, and ten feet high. Nothing more.

  She eyed the cave’s floor and decided it made sense to do a grid search. She clipped a short leash to Robo’s collar and leaned over him to thump his sides and deliver the chatter he loved so well, the words that raised his prey drive and turned him into a sniffing machine. When he began to dance with anticipation, she straightened and spoke the command they used for an evidence search: “Seek!”

  She used her free hand to point to the cave’s floor, and Robo lowered his nose to the ground, his delicate lips fluttering as he vacuumed up scent. Mattie had already created a grid in her mind, and now she applied it, walking Robo to the end of the cave. He sniffed a three-foot swath, his head moving side to side as he quartered the area before moving back to the cave’s opening. Back and forth, left to right, they covered the floor without any indication from Robo that he’d found something outside the environmental norm.

  Until they reached the right wall. There, about halfway down, Robo pawed the stones, whiffed the depression he’d made as if double-checking his work, and then he sat, staring hard at the place he’d sniffed—his signal of a hit.

  A healthy surge of adrenaline punched her already activated system. Since she trusted Robo’s sense of smell completely, she tousled her dog’s ruff and told him, “Good boy,” as she moved him back a few steps. Even if all he’d found was some buried trash, he’d still done his job. She glanced at Hauck, who’d waited at the mouth of the cave with Garrett. “He’s got a hit, but I don’t see anything.”

  Hauck came into the cave to stand beside her, his eyes fixed on the depression that Robo had made within the stones. “Should we dig here?”

  Of course they should. His question showed his lack of experience with her dog. Deputy Ken Brody, who usually backed her, would already be down on his knees snapping photos.

  Mattie used hand signals to tell Robo to sit and stay. “First we take pictures, and then we’ll dig.”

  “I’ll get the shovel in case we need it,” Garrett said, leaving the mouth of the cave to head for the horses.

  Eager to uncover whatever was hidden, Mattie took out her cell phone and began taking shots of the cave’s interior and clos
e-ups of Robo’s mark.

  Hauck soon joined her, taking pictures with his own phone. “What do you think he found?”

  “Weapons, ammo, or drugs would be my guess.”

  “Not money?”

  Mattie shrugged. “I doubt it. If bills or coins are just below the surface, Robo might hit on them, but I think that’s unlikely. Then again, you never know with this dog. Sometimes he surprises me.”

  “How about explosives?”

  “That’s not Robo’s training. Like I said, just gunpowder.” Mattie considered the possibility of a trap of some kind. Was it possible some type of explosive had been planted? Should she wait and ask for a bomb team to excavate the stash? “I suppose we should be concerned about explosives. But what would be the point? I mean, why set a bomb here in the back of a cave?”

  Hauck nodded, taking one more picture before he lowered his phone. “I agree. I think it’s most likely that he hid something and planned to come back to get it. I guess we’ll see. Why don’t you let me do the digging and you stand back a ways?”

  “No, I’ll do it.” Mattie withdrew a pair of gloves from a pocket in her coveralls and put them on. “I’ll push back some of the shale and soil and see what’s beneath. My guess is that whatever Robo hit on isn’t very deep.”

  She knelt, feeling the sharp edges of shale bite her knees. She gently scooped back the loose stones to clear a space about two feet square in size. The soil beneath the shale brushed away easily, as if something had been buried there recently. She dug only a couple inches deeper and stopped when she felt the slick surface of plastic beneath her fingertips.

  “I’ve got something right here,” she told Hauck. “Would you take photos while I dig it out? I don’t think we’ll need a shovel.”

  “Sure.” Hauck moved closer, holding his phone ready.

  Mattie scraped back the soil, careful not to damage anything beneath. Wiping away dirt and pea-size gravel, she cleared the top of a package the size of a gallon bag made of dark, heavy-duty plastic.

  “Let’s get a shot of this.” She leaned back so that Hauck could take the photo, and then she continued to unearth the bag. After a few quick swipes, she was able to lift it. She felt its contents shift beneath her fingers like fine sand, or in this case, most likely powder.

  “My bet is narcotics,” she said to Hauck. “Feels like powder, so maybe cocaine. Could be a variety of things.”

  “That’s a big bag.” Speculation crossed Hauck’s face. “Worth a lot on the street.”

  “I’d say so.”

  “Shall we open it to see what it is?”

  Mattie remembered the foamy substance in John Cobb’s nostrils—residue from pulmonary edema secondary to respiratory distress. “I think we should have the lab open it in a controlled environment. This could even be what Cobb was exposed to yesterday, and I only have two doses of Narcan in my pocket.”

  Narcan reversed the effects of opiates such as fentanyl, one of the street drugs most dangerous to narcotics detection dogs. It saved the lives of dogs, their handlers, and even addicts after accidental exposure or overdose. Nowadays K-9 officers carried two doses, one for their dog and one for themselves. If they were exposed to fentanyl inside this cave, she would treat Robo first. She would always treat Robo first.

  Mattie scooped away some more dirt but didn’t find anything else. Garrett returned to the cave, carrying the bag that held the sat phone as well as the shovel.

  “I heard the satellite phone ring before I got to the horses to answer it, so I brought it for you,” he said.

  “Thank you.” With a sense of alarm, Mattie rose from her knees to take the phone outside where she would get a better signal.

  NINE

  With renewed hope, Cole watched the puppy suck and swallow from the doll bottle. After spending the night in the clinic with the kids, trying to feed the wee pup every two hours, he felt like a horse that had been “rode hard and turned out wet,” an old cowboy expression. It had been a long morning after a hard night, but it looked like their efforts were beginning to pay off.

  “I think she’s got the hang of it, Hannah,” he said.

  Dark circles colored the fragile skin beneath Hannah’s blue eyes, but her smile lit her face. “Do you think she’ll live now?”

  “I can’t guarantee it, but her chances are much better now than they appeared to be last night.”

  “Should I see if she’ll latch on to Sassy?”

  “Let’s let her drink her fill from the bottle. The more nourishment she gets, the better. Maybe by this afternoon we can transfer her to Sassy.”

  “I’ll call my mom when she’s finished.” Hannah continued to cradle the small pup while she fed her.

  Ruth had remained home with her other children, but Hannah had updated her frequently.

  “She’ll be glad to get the good news,” Cole said.

  Sophie stood up from her cushion, the only one in the crew who’d slept through most of the feedings. She looked full of energy while Angie and Hannah gazed wearily from bleary eyes. Cole felt certain his stinging eyes looked just as tired as theirs.

  “Should I go home and get us some lunch?” Sophie asked. “I’m starving.”

  Cole had returned home to shower and get ready for the day before he began his office hours in his clinic. He’d brought breakfast and snacks for the kids, but apparently all that food had been eaten. “You know what, little bit? I think it’s safe for all of us to take a break. Let’s go home for lunch, and maybe you girls could lie down for a couple hours between feedings.”

  “I’m not a bit tired,” Sophie said, and indeed, with the exception of her tousled curls, she looked ready to take on the world.

  “That’s good to hear.” Cole wrapped an arm around her to give her a quick hug. “The rest of us didn’t fit on our cushions as well, so we’re beat. After you have lunch, you can read a book or watch some TV, whatever you want. Why don’t you run up to the house now and warn Mrs. Gibbs that we’ll be there soon. See if she needs your help. Tell her Hannah is coming too.”

  Sophie left just as the pup began to sputter, clamp her jaw, and try to get away from the nipple.

  “She’s done, Hannah,” Cole said, holding out his hand. “Let’s see how much she ate.”

  A good half of the bottle was empty. “That’s a fair amount for a puppy this small. Let’s put her back down so Sassy can clean her up.”

  “She’s not as wet this time,” Hannah said with a tired smile. “Sassy might not be as happy to have her back.”

  It had been their nighttime joke, watching Sassy eagerly receive the pup to lick the milk replacer from her fur. But yet again, as Hannah gently put the puppy back down beside Sassy, the mama dog greeted her with her warm tongue. Cole felt certain that Sassy’s unwillingness to give up on this baby was part of the reason it still lived.

  And now maybe he could relax some of his parental instincts with his kids, including Hannah. He’d stayed with them the last twenty-four hours out of concern that the puppy might die, and he hadn’t wanted them to be alone if that happened. It would have been hard enough on them without their having to bear the burden of ultimate responsibility. He’d needed to be present and in charge.

  So he’d stayed with the kids instead of going up to Redstone Ridge with Mattie, even though he knew how hard the trip would be for her. Returning to the place where you had faced death would be hard on anyone.

  As they headed outside, Cole put his arm around Angie’s shoulders. “Hey, Angel. What’s going on between you and this guy Ben Greenfield?”

  “Da-ad!” Angie threw him a scowl.

  But Hannah gave him a knowing smile, and he squeezed Angie’s shoulders. “I only have one thing to say, girls. When you have a boyfriend, make sure he treats you with respect. Don’t ever accept anything less.”

  “Geez,” Angie muttered, although she let him keep his arm around her shoulders as they walked out to the truck. But Hannah gave him eye contact and nodded—maybe
that was the only agreement he was going to get.

  “And if either of you ever need me to come help you with any situation, just call, anytime, day or night.” This time they both nodded, and he decided to be satisfied with that.

  * * *

  Mattie reached Sheriff McCoy on her first try.

  “Mattie, I want to update you on some changes we’ve had in the plan. But first tell me where you’re at and what’s going on up there.”

  McCoy typically referred to his deputies formally, calling her Deputy Cobb. But recently he’d begun calling her Mattie, and she didn’t mind at all. It was as if he realized the name Cobb no longer fit. Even Brody, someone she considered less sensitive than the sheriff, called her Mattie nowadays. And she felt herself moving away from the name Cobb as well, detaching from all the pain the name had caused her.

  She was glad she had good news to share. “We’ve hit the jackpot in the cave. A bag filled with a powdery substance, buried just under the surface. My bet is it’s some type of narcotics.”

  “That’s great news. And I think you’ll like what I have to tell you.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Sergeant Madsen has several dogs in training that he wants to bring to help us.”

  “Wow.” The news pleased her indeed. Madsen had been Robo’s trainer, and he was someone she admired tremendously. “When can we expect him?”

  “He’s rounding up handlers, but he thinks he can arrive by evening. He’s got a variety of specialties in the works, including a couple cadaver dogs and one trained on explosives. He said he’s got a dog trained on narcotics that he’ll bring to back up Robo, so we have the whole spectrum covered.”

  There couldn’t have been better news. Although Robo had been able to find corpses in the past, it wasn’t his specialty. Sergeant Madsen had told her that Robo had been exposed to cadaver training briefly before they focused on narcotics detection, and her dog was smart enough to remember everything he’d ever been taught.