Hanging Falls

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Hanging Falls Page 23

by Margaret Mizushima


  Julia continued her story. “Abuela tried to find out more about what happened that night but couldn’t seem to get anywhere with it. The first time I went to the police to try, I was in high school. I connected with a lady detective, Sonia Alvarez. She was kind to me and said she’d look into it. It didn’t take long for her to call me, because our dad’s case was still in the files.”

  Julia’s frown warned Mattie that the fine line her father had been walking had meant trouble for him and his young family.

  “Detective Alvarez said that our father was shot to death at a checkpoint just inside the border south of San Diego,” Julia said, her face filled with pain. Mattie reached for her hand and squeezed it, and they sat with their fingers gripping each other’s. “She said the evidence pointed to his involvement with a smuggling ring. That he’d been on the take, allowing gun and drug runners that were buying him off into the U.S. through that checkpoint.”

  Mattie hadn’t known this part of the puzzle, but she connected her father immediately to the ring that included the Cobb brothers. She could feel her features settle into her cop face, because she didn’t want Julia and Abuela to know how much she despised learning that her father had been engaged in such dirty business. “How did our mother, Willie, and I get caught up in it?”

  “We don’t know.” Julia hung her head, looking down at their clasped hands. “Detective Alvarez found a report in the file saying the initial investigation revealed that Dad’s entire family was missing, and the detectives had filed a missing person report on all of us, me included. Ms. Alvarez questioned both me and Abuela, but we couldn’t supply any new information. They’d never found his killers, but she said she’d kick it up for the cold case unit to take another look. We’ve been contacted off and on by various detectives over the years, but none of them have made any progress. Or at least not any progress that they’ve shared with us.”

  Mattie studied Julia while she spoke, taking in the nuance of her expression, the tone of her voice. She realized that her sister’s life had been filled with pain too, a different kind of pain than hers, but still, her life hadn’t been easy. All because their father had decided to play ball with a group of killers. Had he done it willingly, or had he been coerced?

  “Can you give me the name of the last detective you talked to?” Mattie asked.

  “Detective Jim Hauck.” Julia raised her eyes and looked into Mattie’s, her gaze filled with hope. “Will you contact him?”

  “Sure. I even have a lead on someone who was probably involved.”

  Julia’s eyes widened with surprise. “You do?”

  Mattie bit her lower lip and nodded. “I don’t know for a fact that this man was involved, but he certainly might have been. He’s incarcerated in prison here in Colorado on multiple charges of murder and conspiracy to commit murder. Including killing Willie.”

  Tears brimmed in Julia’s eyes. “Were you involved with capturing this man?”

  Mattie nodded, reaching down to stroke the satiny black fur between Robo’s ears, taking comfort from him as she remembered the awful time a few months ago when they’d investigated Willie’s death. “Robo took him down, and we arrested him.”

  Yolanda moaned and then pressed her lips with her fingers. Mattie could tell her grandmother’s tension rivaled her own and hoped the lady’s heart was strong enough to take it.

  “Tell us about Willie,” Julia said, a determined set to her jaw, even though her brown eyes filled with tears. “We need to know.”

  Mattie settled back in her chair, sorting through what she could and couldn’t share about Willie’s death but knowing one thing for certain: she would never tell these two about the torture he had suffered. All they needed to know was that he’d been killed and his body had been found near Timber Creek.

  Mattie’s gut tightened as she told Willie’s story. Even the abridged version brought memories rushing back, and the stricken expressions on the faces of her audience made her own pain even more intense.

  Julia asked very few questions, darting glances at Yolanda as if wanting to make certain she could handle the information. When Mattie finished explaining that Willie’s fiancée had wanted his remains cremated and had taken them with her to bury in a cemetery in Los Angeles, Julia asked if she could call her to find out where.

  “I can tell you where,” Mattie said, “but if you want to talk with her yourself, I’ll call to make sure it’s okay and then give you her number.”

  Julia stared at Mattie long and hard. “Why, Mattie? Why did this man kill Willie?”

  This was one of the parts that Mattie had left out. “He wanted to find our mother, and he thought Willie and I could tell him where she was.”

  Yolanda gasped, covering her mouth with her hand.

  Mattie was startled to see fear on her grandmother’s face.

  Did Abuela know where to find Ramona? Call it cop’s intuition, but the notion that Yolanda knew something more struck Mattie square in the face. She studied her grandmother, who lowered her eyes to stare at the floor between them.

  “Why did he want to find our mother?” Julia asked, her brow creased with concern.

  Keeping her eyes on Yolanda, Mattie told what she knew. “He said she took money that belonged to him and disappeared. But I don’t know if what he said was the truth.”

  Yolanda continued to hold her hand against her mouth and gaze at the floor. Mattie sat at a point in their close triangle where she could observe them both, and Julia seemed only puzzled, not fearful like their grandmother.

  Mattie decided that confronting the older woman was not the way to go right now. She could tell when someone would clam up, and Yolanda definitely fit the description. There would be time over the next few days to gain her trust and get her to confide what she might know. Maybe Abuela knew nothing, but then again—and Mattie pinned all her hope on this alternative—maybe she knew everything.

  “Anyway.” Mattie decided to head the conversation in another direction. “The man who killed Willie is serving time, and I’ll try to reach Detective Hauck today to inform him.”

  “Do you think you can reach him on a Sunday?” Julia asked.

  “You never know when a detective will be on duty. Sundays are just as likely as any other day.”

  Julia gave Mattie the detective’s phone number, which she entered into the contact list on her phone. She had tapped out emotionally, and she wanted to go to the station, where work was always a distraction. But Julia had taken the time to copy these photos for her, and she couldn’t neglect her sister’s effort.

  She picked up the handful of photos that she’d placed in her lap and toiled her way through them. There was one of her mother feeding a baby girl in a high chair, and her openmouthed imitation of the child made Mattie bite her lip to keep from crying again. “Is this you or me?” she asked Julia.

  “It’s you.” Julia smiled sadly. “Willie and I were sitting across the table, and Dad took the picture. I remember it.”

  There were other photos of family life—the three children running through the sprinkler in swimsuits that showed off their skinny legs and bulging little-kid bellies, one of all five of them around a Christmas tree, and one of Mattie and Julia posed on the couch, big sister feeding baby Mattie a bottle. By the time Mattie had struggled through viewing them all, she had a sense of the love the family had shared, the love her parents had given each other and their children.

  Maybe her father hadn’t been on the take; maybe he’d been framed for something he didn’t do. The cop in her wanted justice for this man she couldn’t remember but who’d brought her into the world.

  By this time, Mattie felt herself bending under the emotional pressure of the little family reunion, and she needed a break. “I’m anxious to go to the station and make that call,” she said. “My friends the Walkers have invited us for dinner tonight at six. Would you like a chance to rest before we go?”

  To Mattie’s relief, Julia glanced at their grandmother
and nodded. She’d hoped the two would need a break as much as she did. She made arrangements to escort them to the Walker house later.

  Mattie tried to hand the photographs to Julia as she stood to leave, but her sister pressed them back into her hands.

  “I made these copies for you,” Julia said. “Keep them.”

  Feeling like she’d been given hidden treasure, Mattie carried the photographs with her and set them inside her vehicle’s console before taking Robo to the back to load him into his compartment. Her family stood at the doorway of their motel room, watching her get into her vehicle and waving as she drove away. Mattie returned their waves, looking into her rearview mirror to see them go back inside when she paused to turn onto the highway.

  She felt absolutely wrung out. The information she’d learned about her father weighed on her heavily. It seemed filled with assumptions. She needed to review this “evidence” the police had. She would hate to discover that it was true, but if it wasn’t, she needed to clear his name.

  She headed for the station, a place that usually brought her peace in the form of work. She planned to seek out Stella, a friend who could hopefully point her in the right direction.

  TWENTY-THREE

  Mattie pulled into the station parking lot, relieved to see Stella’s car still there. She took Robo with her and found the detective inside her office, working at her computer. Mattie tapped lightly on the open door and peeked in. “Do you have a minute?”

  Stella pushed her reading glasses up on top of her head. “Of course. But you’re supposed to be off duty and with your family right now.”

  Mattie quirked up her lip into a half smile. “They needed to rest before dinner.”

  Stella raised a brow. “And you needed a break.”

  She knows me so well. “Right. We’ve spent the past hour going over how Willie and my father died.”

  “Oh … pretty hard stuff.”

  “Yep.” Mattie released a sigh. “Do you have time for me to tell you what I found out about my father?”

  “Absolutely.” Stella leaned back and gestured toward an empty chair beside her desk. “Have a seat.”

  Mattie sat and then summarized what she’d learned from Julia. As she did, Stella tipped her desk chair back a few inches and rocked on the spring, her lips pursed.

  “So you’re going to call the detective and tip him off about John Cobb, right?” Stella asked.

  “Yeah, and I want to see how serious they’ve been about solving this case. Since it looks like my dad was on the take, they might have put it on the back burner all these years.”

  Stella studied Mattie, a furrow of concern between her delicately sculpted brows. “It might look like he was a dirty cop, but that’s not always the case. And you never know what this smuggling ring had on him.”

  Mattie nodded. “Knowing John and Harold Cobb, that concerns me too.”

  “Do you want me to call this detective in California?”

  Mattie didn’t want to divert Stella’s time from the Timber Creek investigation. “I’ll take care of it, although he might want to speak to you sometime.”

  “Be sure to give him my cell phone number.” Stella straightened and opened a notebook on her desk. “Now … do you want an update on our two cases?”

  Mattie squared her shoulders, back in her element and feeling better. “Sure.”

  “Sheriff McCoy and I decided to interview the Perry brothers at their place so we could look around and get photos of their truck and trailer tires. They have a carriage whip hanging on the wall in the barn, similar to the one we saw this morning at the Isaac King place.”

  “I suppose they’re common enough, just like the smooth-soled riding boots.”

  “And we didn’t get anywhere with the pattern on the tires either. They’re similar to the prints the sheriff found yesterday but not a definitive ID.”

  Unless tires had an unusual mark on them or an unusual tread, they weren’t always helpful in identifying a vehicle. “I was afraid of that.”

  “But we did find one thing that’ll knock your socks off.”

  The detective’s excitement gave Mattie a spike of energy. “What’s that?”

  “An empty bottle of xylazine in a trash can by the barn door.” Stella rocked back in her chair and gave Mattie a Cheshire cat grin.

  Mattie was truly astonished, but she quickly thought of an explanation that might discredit the find. “Wait a minute. Was it theirs, or did Cole throw it away when he was at their place last?”

  “Don’t jump to conclusions, right?” Stella gave her a small salute. “The Perry brothers denied knowing it was even there. They said that Cole must have thrown it in the trash or—get this—maybe Quinn Randolph threw it away after he trimmed their stallion’s hooves.”

  “Quinn Randolph? Did either of them observe him using the drug on their horse?”

  “Oh, yeah. At the very least, we’ve got this guy on illegal possession and use of a controlled pharmaceutical.” Stella used her fingers to tick off the status of the case so far. “First, I talked to Cole and confirmed that he didn’t throw away a bottle of xylazine at the Perry place, nor did he leave one for Randolph to use. Second, Brody and I contacted veterinarians in Willow Springs, and none of them have written a prescription for Randolph to obtain the drug. And third, we believe that Parker Tate is Randolph’s supplier, but we can’t prove that yet. We’re working on it.”

  “Good job, Detective.” Mattie held up a fist, and when Stella bumped it with hers, Robo sprang to his feet and shoved his way forward. It took a second to settle him down.

  Stella laughed. “You’d better teach your dog to fist-bump, Mattie. Looks like he wants in on the action.”

  But Mattie’s previous conversation with the Perrys and their reaction to their neighbors made her question whether the two were innocent. “So are the Perry brothers off the list of suspects? Are you sure they weren’t lying?”

  Stella had sobered. “They’re not home free yet. We’re still looking at them. Earlier today, the Perrys’ stallion broke free from their place and went onto the King property. According to Cole, King threatened to kill the horse. Made both of the Perrys furious.”

  “Hmm … sounds like there’s a lot of anger out there between neighbors. I guess we’ll have to keep an eye on that.”

  “Yes, we will.” Stella pointed at her. “You’re going to spend more time with your family.”

  Mattie felt her eyes slide away from Stella’s, only to return to be met by her friend’s keen gaze. “It’s tough” was all she could bring herself to say.

  “I imagine it’s real tough, especially having stuff like your father’s death brought to light. Let me know if I can help.”

  It felt good to know that Stella was there for her. “I appreciate the offer. Right now, I’ll go see if I can reach Detective Hauck.”

  Stella raised a hand in farewell and settled her glasses back on her nose as Mattie and Robo left her office.

  With Robo trailing behind, Mattie went to the staff office to use her desk phone to make the call.

  She’d think the detective would welcome having a suspect in a cold case dropped into his lap, but one never knew. Under the circumstances and if they’d left the case on the shelf, he might not appreciate hearing from the victim’s long-lost daughter. But on the other hand, she could clear up the whereabouts of at least two of their missing persons: her and Willie. That should make him happy.

  And if he was less than motivated to work on her father’s case, she needed to know it.

  She felt a twinge of nerves as she dialed the phone, but the only person she got to speak with was the dispatcher on duty. In the end, she was told that Detective Hauck would return to work tomorrow. She left her name, her phone number, and a message that she had information regarding the Douglas Wray cold case.

  That would have to do for now.

  TWENTY-FOUR

  Fresh from the shower, Cole ran a comb through his closely cropped
hair and then spiffed it up with a dab of gel that Tess had given him for Christmas last year, a gift that he’d thought might be a hint to step up his game in the grooming department. Satisfied that he’d achieved all he could, he slipped on a short-sleeved, mint-colored Western shirt above his jeans, fastening the pearly white snaps as he trotted down the stairs to the kitchen.

  Mrs. Gibbs was at the stove, stirring a pot of green chili with pork, while Mattie’s foster mother, Teresa Lovato, stood beside her, holding a spoon poised and ready to dip into the pot. Mrs. Gibbs had arranged for Teresa to join them for dinner as a surprise for Mattie.

  Tension tightened Cole’s shoulders as he wondered if Mattie would actually enjoy being surprised, but then he decided he couldn’t worry about it. This home was filled with people who loved her, and she’d better get used to them doing things they hoped would please her. And he’d noticed that she was getting better at releasing the reins a bit when it came to control.

  He grabbed a spoon from the drawer and stepped in beside Mama T, slipping an arm around her lightly. “Mmm … smells so good. I’m in line for a taste after you.”

  Mama T raised her round face to look him in the eye and gave him a wide grin that charmed him.

  “You think you’ll like my green chili, gringo?” she said in a teasing way.

  “I know I will.” Cole smiled at Mrs. Gibbs. “You don’t have to be Hispanic to enjoy a bowl of green chili with homemade tortillas, do you, Mrs. Gibbs?”

  “Aye, that you don’t,” Mrs. Gibbs said. “And the tamales you made are lovely, Teresa. Do you share your recipe?”

  After taking a bite of the chili, Mama T smacked her lips and put her spoon into the sink. “Spicy enough, but it needs more salt,” she murmured before replying. “I don’t have a recipe, but if you’ll come to my house some afternoon, I’ll show you how to make a batch and you can take some home for your dinner.”

 

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