Tracking Game

by Margaret Mizushima

  Kasey gazed at the floor again. “I don’t know for sure, but I stayed late. Dad didn’t want to go to bed. I’d only been home about a half hour or so and had just gone to sleep when Mom called.”

  That matched what her mother had said earlier.

  The double door slam reverberated from the kitchen, and a young man wearing jeans, a red plaid western shirt, and a billed cap walked into the room. “What’s going on, Mom?” he said, urgency in his voice. “Is it Dad?”

  This must be Tyler Redman, Mattie thought.

  Lillian spoke, rising from the sofa to greet her son. “Dad’s fine.”

  Tyler looked around the room. “Why are the police here? What’s going on?”

  The cap that Tyler wore said BEEF BUILDS BETTER BODIES. SEE BELOW. The body below might have once been hard and lean, but the years had gathered around Tyler’s middle to turn it soft and pudgy. He glanced at his mother and removed his cap, revealing a blond crew cut and a receding hairline. Still holding his cap, he stepped forward when his mother introduced him and offered a firm handshake.

  Stella cut right to the chase. “We’re here to notify your family that your brother-in-law, Nate Fletcher, was shot and killed earlier this evening.”

  Tyler frowned. “In Sidney?”

  “No, right outside Timber Creek.”

  “But Nate went to Nebraska, didn’t he?” He looked at Kasey for confirmation, but she was staring at the floor. He turned to his mother. “Didn’t he?”

  Mattie thought Lillian looked like she was getting close to the end of her rope.

  “That’s what we thought,” Lillian said as she sank back down on the sofa beside Kasey.

  “Well, why wasn’t he where he said he’d be?” Tyler said, his frown deepening.

  “That’s what we’d all like to know,” Eve said, rubbing Kasey’s knee. “Don’t make this any harder on Kasey than it has to be.”

  Tyler’s expression appeared more confused than grief-stricken, which made Mattie wonder where he’d been earlier in the evening.

  Evidently Stella did, too. “Tyler, we’re investigating Mr. Fletcher’s death and the circumstances around it to determine what happened, and right now, I need to establish where everyone was earlier tonight around eleven o’clock. Could you give me that information?”

  Tyler raised a brow. “No problem. I was at the dance in Timber Creek with Jasmine Pierce until around ten thirty, and then I took her home to her place. I was there with her until I left to come here.”

  “Which was what time?” Stella asked.

  “Thirty minutes ago. I drove straight here.”

  Mattie couldn’t recall seeing Tyler at the dance, but she hadn’t known him then and might not have noticed. She’d have to ask Cole if he’d seen him. “And where does Jasmine live, Tyler?”

  “South of town on the trout farm.”

  Mattie knew the place he was talking about, where the Pierce family had raised trout for stocking lakes and streams for years. “I’ll want to get her phone number from you before we leave.”

  Tyler didn’t look too happy about it, but he read Jasmine’s phone number to her from his phone.

  “And where do you live?”

  Tyler raised a brow, as if surprised she didn’t know. “Here on the ranch, in the log cabin on the other side of Kasey’s house.”

  Mattie made a quick decision to swab Tyler for gunshot residue. Odds were good that his alibi would hold up, but just in case, she didn’t want to neglect getting valuable information now that could be showered away by morning.

  “In the interest of being thorough,” she said, “I need to run a quick test for gunshot residue. This is standard routine with cases like this, and all it involves is a swab like they do in airports. It helps us eliminate family so we can move on.” Mattie scanned the family’s faces but focused most of her attention on Tyler. “Is that all right with everyone?”

  His frown had turned into a scowl. “I took a shot at a coyote yesterday. Is that going to show up as a positive?”

  “We’ll keep that in mind.” Mattie stood to go retrieve the kits from the car.

  “All of us handle guns now and then,” Eve said. “Except Mom and Dad. But go ahead, do your job.”

  “Yes, sir,” Doyle said, adding his agreement.

  Mattie glanced at Stella, who nodded, and then made her way out through the kitchen and porch to her Explorer. When she opened the door, Robo lurched to his feet, blinking his eyes. She put her hand through the mesh to stroke his fur. “We’ll be ready to go soon. You can go back to sleep.”

  She grabbed several of the packaged swabs from the console and went back inside. It took mere seconds to determine that Tyler’s clothing and hands were negative for GSR, and so were all the women’s. Though Mattie didn’t intend to swab Doyle’s hands, he reached his left out to be tested, and she swiped it quickly so that he would feel included.

  “Thank you,” Mattie told them. “These results will be logged as part of the investigatory record. That way, if someone questions it in the future, we can clearly state that the results were negative for all of you. Your cooperation is much appreciated.”

  Stella spoke up. “Eve, we’ve established a time frame for everyone else this evening, but what about you? Could you share where you were earlier tonight?”

  Lillian was quick to answer. “Eve went to bed around eight o’clock.”

  “I can speak for myself, Mom. I’m not a child,” Eve said.

  Lillian bowed her head in acquiescence. “I know you’re not. I just knew when you went to bed by what was on television at the time.”

  “I’ve got a summer job at Clucken House,” Eve said to Stella. “I worked until close at midnight on Friday and then opened at five on Saturday morning to work breakfast and lunch. Tyler and I branded calves in the afternoon, so I was beat and went to bed early … evidently at eight o’clock.” This last bit was said with a glance at her mother.

  Lillian gave her youngest a thin smile tinged with sadness.

  “All right,” Stella said, rising from her chair. “Does Nate have other family, Kasey? Someone we can contact for you?”

  “His parents live in Montana.”

  “I can call them,” Lillian said.

  “No, I’ll do it,” Stella replied. “I need to talk to them anyway. If I could just get their phone number from you.”

  “I have it pinned to the bulletin board in the kitchen,” Lillian said, rising from the sofa to go and Stella followed.

  Mattie scanned the sorrowful family faces, her gaze lingering on Tyler. He had yet to shed a tear. Maybe he was a stoic guy, but his lack of emotion made her wonder if he’d had anything to do with his brother-in-law’s death.

  She stood. “I want to tell you again how sorry we are. We plan to track down what happened to Nate and arrest the person who killed him.”

  As Kasey looked up at Mattie, tears brimmed in her eyes. “I hope you can. I don’t want whoever did this to get away with it.”

  Stella handed them each a business card before leaving. “Call me anytime if you think of something that might help us with our investigation.”

  Lillian escorted them into the porch, pausing as she closed the door behind her. “Mattie, Stella … You’ve been very kind. You’re in a hard profession, and I appreciate what you’re doing to try to make things right for our family. It’s, it’s …”

  Emotion interfered with Lillian’s ability to finish, and she covered her face with her hands. Sympathy made Mattie reach out to touch her arm. “We’ll do the best we can, Mrs. Redman.”

  Lillian drew a deep breath as she withdrew her hands from her face. “I know you will. Thank you.”

  Mattie said goodbye, following Stella through the porch, while Lillian returned inside her house.

  Glad that the hardest task in her job was now over, Mattie drew a sigh of relief. As they approached her unit, Robo popped his head up in the window to greet them. His eager face never failed to make her feel bet
ter. Realizing how tired she was, she drew a breath.

  What a night. And still much to do.

  Stella climbed into the passenger seat and reached for her seat belt. “That was a tough one.”

  Mattie turned the key to start the engine. “I’ll say.”

  “I’m typically not convinced when a family member provides an alibi, but I think it’s safe to say that both Kasey and Eve were here when Nate was killed. I think we can clear Kasey as the shooter, but whether or not she’s involved with the planning still remains to be determined.”

  “That’s true, but she seemed genuinely shocked by the news. I’d place my money on her innocence.”

  “Agreed.” Stella used both hands to massage the sides of her neck. “Poor family. They’ve had it rough, and hard times still lie ahead. Lillian Redman looks tired. I wonder how she copes.”

  Mattie had been struck by the same impression. “Love. It’s obvious how much she loves her husband. She loves her family, too.”

  “Dedication. Can’t say I’ve ever experienced that for anything but the job.”

  Mattie nodded, but remained silent. She had to admit that sometimes she wondered if it might not be easier to remain a loner rather than to get tangled up in the messy affinity of love and family. But then, she really wasn’t willing to go back to her life before falling in love with Cole.

  “So what do you think about Tyler?” Stella asked.

  “I think we still need to look at him. He could’ve changed his clothes and showered to pass the GSR test. We’ll have to check his alibi with Jasmine Pierce.”

  “Didn’t seem too torn up about his brother-in-law’s death.”

  “I noticed.”

  “If the lab finds DNA inside that glove Robo found, we’ll need to get a sample from Tyler to compare it to.”

  In total agreement, Mattie nodded.

  “What do you think about this guy, Flint Thornton? Do you know him?” Stella asked.

  Mattie told her what she knew while she drove out onto the highway.

  Stella took in the information. “We need to talk to him. Does he know you?”

  “He probably knows Brody better than me. I think he was the one who arrested him on the drunk and disorderly.”

  “That’s all for the better. Before we go talk to him, I’ll do an online search to get to know our victim. I’m wondering about past customers. If Flint Thornton doesn’t appear to be involved with the shooting, maybe he can shed some light on other suspects.”

  Mattie thought of something else that bothered her. “Why did Nate Fletcher return home tonight? And why didn’t Kasey know about it?”

  Stella nodded and leaned back against the headrest. “I wonder if he was hiding something from her.”

  It was a beautiful night, and Mattie stared out at the landscape while she thought about it. The moon lit the area beyond their headlights to reveal grassy meadows that stretched north to meet the first layer of foothills, rounded and rocky, their native vegetation reflecting silver in the moonlight. Above the foothills, towering peaks white-capped with glaciers provided a jagged skyline below a multitude of stars.

  “Imagine owning all this land,” Stella mused. “And private access into BLM land? Do you know what that means?”

  “Not precisely, but it has something to do with grazing rights that a rancher can obtain from the Bureau of Land Management. It’s government land that goes up into the mountains.”

  “Is it legal for outfitters to take groups on hunting trips up into that country? Sounds like double-dipping into government land.”

  “It’s entirely legal. I think ranchers pay for the permits, so it’s like a lease. They can use the land however they want. The government makes money off the program.”

  “So Nate wasn’t breaking the law that we know of.”

  “Right, but we don’t know much yet.”

  “True. Well, let’s get back to the crime scene and see if Robo can tell us anything about that van. He’s given us a lot of evidence already, but let’s see if he’s got any more tricks up his sleeve.”

  SIX

  Sunday morning

  By five thirty, the sunrise painted an orange glow on the eastern horizon, giving off enough light to provide visibility beyond the halo of lamps set up by the crime scene investigators. Brody and Stella had waited outside the perimeter while Mattie prepared Robo to work.

  Ready to go, he stood beside Mattie outside the debris field that circled the van. Except for his short stints at work, he’d slept the night away in his compartment. Hovering at her heel with a waving tail, he looked much more refreshed than she felt.

  “Let’s go to work, Robo.” Mattie had put leather booties on his feet again, and he high-stepped his way beside her. An evidence search was serious business, but still, Mattie had to suppress a smile.

  Torching the van had transformed it into a twisted and blackened metal sculpture. Ash and sooty grime covered everything. The driver’s side door hung ajar, left open since Garrett had pulled out Nate’s body. Upholstery on the two front seats had burned away, leaving a metal framework with bits of scorched cushion.

  After leading Robo to the open door at the back of the van, Mattie unclipped his leash and told him to search. He hopped inside and skirted the back of the van, sniffing at two plastic toolboxes that had melted around metal tools inside and a steel cage that looked like a large dog crate, torqued and distorted by the fire. He rounded the back area, giving the side panels a sniff before leaping outside. Nothing in back seemed to have captured his attention.

  Planning to perform a typical vehicle search for narcotics, Mattie clipped Robo’s leash back on his collar and directed him in a counterclockwise sweep around the van’s exterior. He sniffed the vehicle’s undercarriage and headed toward the driver’s side. At the open door, he sniffed the inside panel and then whiffed it again as if checking his work. He turned, sat, and stared at Mattie.

  Mattie’s pulse quickened, and she praised Robo while he beat his tail in a happy cadence. Since it had remained open, this door panel had been relatively spared from the fire. She spoke over her shoulder to Brody. “He’s got a hit here. Let’s take off the panel.”

  Stella called to one of the lab techs, a young woman named Karissa, and asked her to help. First Karissa photographed the door from several angles, and then with a tool she removed from a kit she wore at her belt, she pried loose the inner door upholstery.

  Mattie leaned in for a closer look. Nothing. “I don’t see anything, but can we swab that to see if we can get a sample for testing?”

  “I have a NIK kit here,” Karissa said, referring to a presumptive test kit that could detect and identify narcotics in the field. “Let’s use it.”

  While Karissa retrieved the kit and set to work, Brody came close to watch. Mattie and Robo finished sweeping the van without any other alerts.

  “I swabbed out a few grains of something,” Karissa told Mattie when she returned to the driver’s side. “I hope it’s large enough to react.”

  The lab tech held the small fluid-filled test pouch and carefully broke ampoules of reacting agents over it. As she worked through the ampoules, the fluid turned a faint shade of blue. “That’s positive for cocaine,” Karissa said, grinning at Mattie.

  She couldn’t help but return the smile. “Thanks, Karissa. That’s a huge find.”

  “I’ll swab it out and see what we can identify in the lab, but it’s safe to say this van was used to transport cocaine inside the door panel.” Karissa started to leave but turned back toward Mattie. “And could you get a sample of your dog’s hair for me, so we can have it on record? You have to pluck it to include the follicle, and I’m afraid of him.”

  “As you should be,” Brody said, with an expression of pride on his face. “This dog can take your hand off.”

  Mattie thought Brody might be going a bit overboard, but who was she to argue?

  * * *

  Morning light filtered through the hospital roo
m window where Cole sat with Leslie. Garrett lay unconscious in the bed, looking older than his years, small cuts and bruises marring the stark whiteness of his face.

  Garrett’s CT scan had revealed a hematoma in a place in his brain that made the doctors nervous. The neurosurgeon didn’t recommend operating unless internal vessels in the brain bled further and the hematoma enlarged overnight. So far, his vital signs had been stable, so there was nothing else to do but wait and watch, which had occupied both Cole and Leslie.

  Leslie’s forehead was creased with worry, her eyes reddened by unshed tears, and Cole knew there was no way he could leave her to stand vigil on her own. He’d tried to keep his game face on and project an air of confidence that Garrett would be fine, but the strain seemed to be getting to them both.

  Since their daughter Grace’s murder, Garrett had made an attempt to heal by volunteering for the sheriff’s posse, a group of horseback riders that responded to search-and-rescue calls or routine events such as crowd control at rodeos. He’d thrown himself into community service, while Leslie had isolated herself in their home.

  A few times each month, Mrs. Gibbs and Cole’s two daughters, Angela and Sophie, had driven out to the Hartman ranch house to visit Leslie. Mrs. Gibbs was a rock with a solid knowledge of human nature, and the two women seemed to enjoy each other’s company. Grace and Angela had been best of friends, and Cole had been relieved that her visits with Leslie didn’t seem to be painful for either of them. Garrett often commented how much Leslie loved seeing the kids and how young Sophie made her laugh.

  Coming into town together to enjoy the community dance had been a big step for the Hartmans. It had been almost a year since Grace, and as far as Cole knew, this was the first time they’d planned to attend a fun event. It made his heart ache that they hadn’t made it, and now Garrett lay unconscious on this bed, his life suspended in the blink of an eye.

  Cole arose from his chair to stretch his legs and open the blinds a crack. The sun had risen well above the horizon, and it slanted in, hurting his eyes. He closed the blind. “Do you want some breakfast, Leslie?”

  She looked away from her husband’s face for a brief moment. “I don’t think so, Cole.”