Tracking Game

by Margaret Mizushima

  “Well, I guess you never know, but the odds are against it.”

  “I saved the best for last.” Brody wore his self-satisfied smile. “You know that revolver we found at the scene? I was able to trace the registration number on it myself.”

  This was good news. “And I can tell you found something useful.”

  “Just did. Haven’t even had time to notify LoSasso yet.” Brody paused as if waiting for a drumroll. “The gun is registered to Wilson Nichol.”

  Mattie almost leaped from her chair. This could break the case wide open. “Can we get a warrant for his arrest?”

  “There’s only one problem. Nichol filed a stolen gun report on it three weeks ago. That’s why I was able to trace it so fast.”

  That did complicate things. “Do you think the report is legit? Or did he plan this murder in advance and file it to muddy the water?”

  “That’s a good question. I’ll notify LoSasso and see which way she wants to go with this. At the very least, this combined with the items you found on Nichol’s property could get us a warrant to search his office and home.”

  A niggling doubt undermined Mattie’s excitement. “And we can’t forget that leaving the gun at the scene and those items in plain sight behind Nichol’s shed makes this whole thing look like he’s being framed. Would Nichol be dumb enough to leave such a trail of evidence?”

  The buzzer on Brody’s phone interrupted them, and Mattie leaned back in her chair while he took the call.

  Brody straightened, his eyes drilling Mattie’s. “Did you get an exact location?”

  Something’s happened, Mattie thought as she shifted to the edge of her chair.

  “We’ll be right out.” Brody hung up the receiver as he stood. “Nine-one-one. Caller said he’d been shot.”

  Adrenaline loaded Mattie’s system, launching her from her chair. Robo leaped up to join her. “Who is it?”

  “Don’t know. Male caller said he was beside Timber Creek up in the mountains west of town, and then he quit talking. The phone wasn’t disconnected, but Sam can’t get him to speak again.” Brody was rounding his desk to head out the door.

  Mattie beat him to it and hurried into the lobby with Robo rushing out front.

  Sam was still trying to get the caller to respond. “Sir? Sir, can you tell me where you are?”

  Mattie hovered near the dispatcher’s desk. “What have you got?” she murmured as Sam held the receiver to his ear, staring in front of him as he strained to listen.

  Sam shook his head and glanced up at her. “Nothing more. All he said was he’s in the mountains west of town on Timber Creek. I’ve got a cell phone number here but no name.”

  Mattie looked at Brody. “Can we get any help from the cell phone tower for location?”

  Brody shook his head. “One tower in the area. All it will tell us is the call came from the west. If he’s got the phone’s navigation turned on, we might locate it, but that’ll take some time.”

  Robo was pumped full of energy, and he danced beside her, shifting his weight from one front paw to the other. As usual, her emotion had gone straight to her dog.

  “Keep this line open as long as you’ve got a connection to the caller,” Brody told Sam. “Let’s activate Search and Rescue, and we’ll send them out to the banks of the creek in pairs.”

  Mattie was as eager to start as Robo. “I’ll head out now.”

  Brody hesitated. “We’re short-staffed. I’m going to have to stay and organize the volunteers as they come in.”

  “I know. I’ll go on my own. Maybe we can find this guy in time.”

  Brody eyed her. “Where will you start?”

  Mattie thought for a brief moment. “Timber Creek runs down through the BLM land before it hits the meadows of the Redman Ranch. I’ll drive as far as I can into the foothills as long as the road runs beside the creek, but once the creek splits off, I’ll leave my vehicle and go along the bank on foot.”

  “All right. You go. I’ll send Johnson as soon as I can get him out there.”

  * * *

  Always grateful that the county had bought an SUV for the K-9 unit, Mattie was even more so now. Robo stood behind her with his eyes pinned outside the windshield as the Explorer lurched up the rocky two-track that led into the high country above the Redman Ranch. Mattie had accessed the BLM property by leaving the highway and bumping over a cattle guard, and she was now on the four-wheel-drive road that headed upward beside the creek. Light from the setting sun slanted in, touching on bubbles made by eddies and swirls as water rushed downhill around rocks and boulders within the creek bed.

  Willows crowded the creek banks, blocking her view as she looked for the man who’d been shot, and she realized she needed to leave her unit and search on foot. She pulled off the two-track and parked, ratcheting on the emergency brake. After hopping out, she wedged rocks behind the tires to reinforce the brakes and keep her vehicle from sliding downhill.

  Robo leaped from his compartment. She made him wait long enough for her to put on his blue nylon search harness and to take a few laps of water. He was pumped up and ready to go, so she patted him on the side while she told him, “Let’s go find someone.”

  She had no scent article for direction, but the mere presence of his harness told him he was looking for a person, and she knew it was all he needed to direct his considerable energy toward a search. She sprinted alongside him toward the creek bank.

  Once she reached the water’s edge, she paused long enough to get Robo started. “Let’s find someone. Search!”

  Nose down, Robo began to quarter the area, and as he trotted away from the creek, Mattie realized she hadn’t thought this through. How could she let Robo know that he was supposed to search along the creek bank?

  She called him back to her, clipped a short leash on his harness, and started leading him upstream, staying as near the creek as vegetation would allow. She had a feeling the caller had been at a location higher up in the mountains than this, and she knew that keeping Robo on a leash was going to be too slow and cumbersome as they climbed in elevation. She needed a better plan.

  She began to talk to him. “We need to find someone here. By the creek.” She said it over and over as she lifted branches of willows and pulled back shrubbery to direct him to search. Within a few minutes, he began searching without direction.

  She unclipped the leash as she kept up her chatter, directing Robo with gestures and keeping up with him. He stayed beside the creek and started sniffing through the vegetation on his own. She felt a surge of pride. This dog was so smart, and she felt honored to have him for a partner.

  They made better time heading uphill. The creek was about fifteen feet wide here, narrower and deeper in places where it tumbled downhill around granite stones and over falls. Mattie jogged along beside it, dodging rocks, fallen branches, and boulders.

  Within the first fifteen minutes, they entered the forest, where pine, spruce, and piñon trees grew sparse but created new obstacles. The fresh scent of pine filled the air. Robo continued to beat around the willows and shrubs by the creek while Mattie ranged beside him to the best of her ability.

  There had been no time to think about the danger associated with the search. Nate Fletcher had been shot less than twenty-four hours ago. Why had this caller been shot? Was it an accident? A long-range rifle shot? But it wasn’t hunting season right now, and an accident didn’t make sense.

  It had been almost an hour since the call first came in to the station, and if this man was bleeding out, time was of the essence. She pushed a feeling of hopelessness aside and focused on the mission, whether it be recovery or rescue.

  She jogged uphill, glad she trained each morning by running the hills that surrounded town. Robo continued to quarter the area beside the creek, searching under and around willows. When the creek traveled along steeper areas, the vegetation grew sparse, opening up the banks to view. Mattie took advantage of it to scan the banks and run ahead, calling Robo to join
her.

  Her phone jingled in her pocket, and she paused, letting Robo continue to search. The terrain was too rough to try to read the screen and run at the same time, and she was puffing hard, so she stopped to look at caller ID.

  It was Brody, and she connected the call. “Hey.”

  “Where are you? Johnson is on his way.”

  “I parked close to the cattle guard. He’ll see my vehicle beside the road. By now, I’m about a mile farther uphill on the creek.”

  “All right. He should arrive at your vehicle within ten minutes.”

  Mattie began to jog uphill again. “Anything else from the caller?”

  “Nah. We lost the connection.”

  She puffed out a breath. Had the shooter found the victim and disconnected the call? Was there an armed shooter somewhere up ahead? “Okay. I’m going on up. Still have a cell phone signal, so have Johnson call me when he gets here.”

  “Will do.”

  In the dim light of dusk, she’d lost sight of Robo, and she stepped up her pace. She focused on dodging tree roots, deadfall, rocks, and other barriers that seemed bent on catching her toe. She kept her eye on the ground with an occasional glance uphill to try to spot her dog. She hated to call him back and interrupt his drive to search, but she had begun to wonder if she should.

  As she broke free from some trees, she finally saw Robo up ahead, still near the creek. The sun had set, and his black fur and tawny markings blended into the forest in the waning light. He was skirting the area, winding around a cluster of bushes, when he stopped, sniffing the air.

  As Mattie neared, she could see his hackles rise. “What do you smell?” she murmured as she reached him. He was standing still, sniffing as if trying to sift through the air. She wished she possessed his special power and could help.

  A low growl rumbled in his chest.

  “What is it?” Mattie squinted, peering through the forest, struggling to detect something in the shadows that her dog could smell but she couldn’t see. “What’s out there?”

  Robo edged closer, hovering at her left heel, growling as he searched the area with his eyes as well as his nose. A chill ran down her spine, and Mattie drew her Glock from its holster. She had no idea what they were facing, but she understood her partner’s warning.

  The forest was still, all the normal evening sounds hushed. A low-pitched roar rumbled from somewhere uphill, a primordial sound that shook Mattie to her core. For a few seconds, she and Robo froze, and then he broke into a furious bark. Several rattling chuffs from uphill answered, followed by the long, drawn-out growl of an apex predator.

  The hair at the back of her neck stood at attention. What on earth was that? A bear? A cougar?

  Her first concern was for her dog. She sure as hell didn’t want him trying to protect her by charging to attack. “Robo, heel! Stay!”

  She backed up to a pine tree, taking shelter against its rough bark. Robo stayed with her but continued to carry on, barking and snarling.

  The predator responded with a rattling growl that ended in a roar. Mattie strained to see through the feeble light of dusk. Nothing but trees. She grabbed her flashlight from her belt and directed its powerful beam uphill. Again, nothing.

  Robo hovered at her side, his front paws lifting from the ground with every ferocious bark. A downward glance told her where he was looking, and she shone her light in that direction. She glimpsed the shape of a large cat before it whirled and darted away.

  Her dog’s hair bristled, and it reminded her of a strategy to use during a wildlife encounter—look big. She raised the flashlight above her head with her left arm while keeping her handgun trained in the direction of Robo’s line of sight. The light beam wavered in her trembling hand.

  Another roar echoed through the forest, but this time it sounded like it was farther uphill. Was the cougar going away?

  Mattie huddled against the tree, her heart pounding at a fearful pace. Robo continued to bark and growl, and she decided to let him. She held the flashlight aloft until her arm felt numb. After a series of fading growls from up above, the forest fell silent and Robo settled at her heel.

  When she decided it was safe to move, she lowered the light and reached for her cell phone. There were enough bars on the screen to try a call. A quick swipe brought up Brody’s number.

  “Where are you, Cobb?”

  She spoke quietly into the phone, hoping her voice wouldn’t quiver. “Not far from when I talked to you last, maybe a mile and a half from my vehicle. Where’s Johnson?”

  “He just passed your unit, but he’s sticking to the road. He should be near.”

  “Tell him to stay in his cruiser. There’s a big cat out here, and it’s on the hunt.”

  “Just a minute.” She heard Brody pass on her message to Sam, who would notify Johnson. “Are you safe?”

  “I don’t know, but I think so. As far as I can tell, Robo barked enough to make it go away. I don’t want Johnson coming up on it unaware.”

  “He’s still in his cruiser. He’s driven a mile uphill, but that’s as far as he can go. The road’s too bad for him to get closer. Retreat downhill so you can get to the safety of his unit.”

  Despite the terror she’d felt a few minutes ago, she hadn’t forgotten the urgency of her mission, and evidently Robo hadn’t forgotten either. He paced a few feet out in front, sniffing the air, and then turned to stand at attention and pin her with his eyes.

  “I think Robo’s hit on something, Brody. I’ve got to go uphill to check it out.”

  “Don’t be stupid, Cobb.”

  “I’m not. Robo scented the cougar, and now his body language tells me it’s gone. He’s got a hit on human scent this time.”

  There was a long pause before Brody responded. “Keep this line open as you move forward.”

  “Will do.” Mattie put her cell on speakerphone and shoved it into her pocket before clipping a leash on Robo’s collar. She wasn’t going to take the chance of losing him in the dark. “Okay, Robo, let’s go find someone.”

  With Robo’s leash in one hand and her flashlight in the other, Mattie followed him uphill. She watched the hair on his back while keeping an eye on the rugged terrain at her feet. Robo didn’t hesitate as he led her straight uphill, his nose to the air instead of the ground.

  Her flashlight showed her a still form beneath the trees, and as they approached, it gradually assumed the shape of a human lying spread-eagle, faceup.

  Robo sat a short distance from the body, as if he’d taken Mattie as close as he dared. She scanned the form, but her eyes were drawn to its most ghastly aspect. The body’s shirt had been ripped open and its belly plundered, skin and viscera torn apart, bloody organs and tissue scattered. Mattie tore her eyes from the nightmarish sight and shone her light on the face.

  It was Wilson Nichol, his mouth frozen open in a final scream. His passing had not been peaceful. Mattie recalled the low-pitched, rattling growl of the mountain lion that had fed on this man, and it touched a spark of terror in her soul. She reached for her phone.

  “Brody, Robo found him. It’s Wilson Nichol. He’s dead.”

  “Are you in a safe place, Cobb?”

  She scanned the dark forest around her. A branch snapped off to her right, and she whirled to train her light in that direction. Nothing. She looked at Robo. He sat calmly, staring up at her.

  “I think so, but tell the others to be careful as they approach. Have the posse come in a group, and tell them to bring lots of lights and make lots of noise.”

  “Stay with me on the line, Cobb, while I get you some help. I’m coming, too, as soon as I can get there.”

  THIRTEEN

  At the crime scene, Stella, Brody, and Mattie stood in a knot beside a campfire that one of the posse members had built. Memory of the mountain lion’s growl made Mattie shiver, and she threw on an extra log, making the fire pop and flare. Robo stayed close at her side. She brushed the butt of her service weapon with her hand, reassured that the pos
se members had come armed with rifles and stood guard around the perimeter of the crime scene.

  “It had to be one big cat.” Brody gestured toward the prints by the body, which were marked with orange flagging tape anchored to short metal spikes. “I’ve never seen cougar prints that big.”

  Classifying the large cat as a cougar still didn’t feel quite right. “I’ve heard a cougar’s scream before, Brody. It’s high-pitched like a woman’s scream. This was a low-pitched rattle.”

  He eyed her, thinking. “Probably growled to warn you when you approached. Might not have used the full scream.”

  Her experience with cougars was limited to only one encounter last October, so she wasn’t the expert. “I suppose that’s possible. But is it likely that a cougar would feed on a human?”

  Stella wore a perplexed scowl. “In the nine-one-one call, Wilson Nichol said he’d been shot and was bleeding to death. I think the cougar attack came after, or at least I hope so.”

  Brody continued to look thoughtful. “Cougars are usually shy of humans, but if one was hungry, or if a mother was feeding cubs, she might have taken advantage of an easy food source. She could have judged Nichol to be fallen prey, that’s all. It doesn’t necessarily mean we have a man killer on our hands.”

  Mattie hoped that was true, but the fact remained that they did have a killer on their hands. Only the killer was human. “Who is that new wildlife manager? I think we should call her in to take a look at these prints.”

  “Glenna Dalton. I’ll give her a call, see if she can meet us up here tomorrow morning.” Brody squinted at Stella. “He has an entry wound on his chest with an exit wound on his back. How does that compare with what the ME discovered during Nate Fletcher’s autopsy?”

  “He recovered the lead from Nate’s body. Two .38 caliber bullets to the chest. Both penetrated the heart. Hollow-point projectiles for maximum expansion, so the shooter came armed to kill. Stippling on Nate’s shirt indicated gunpowder burn. He was shot at close range, which supports the theory that he knew his killer.”