Rasp Meadow Crossing

by Kieran York

  Scarlet Clover Publishers, L.L.C.

  Littleton, Colorado

  Copyright © 2016 Kieran York

  Rasp Meadow Crossing - A Royce Madison Mystery: 4

  By Kieran York

  Published May, 2016

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any manner whatsoever without permission from the publisher. This includes electronic or mechanical recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, except for the quotations or brief quotations used in critical articles or reviews, without prior permission from Scarlet Clover Publishers L.L.C.

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, locales and events are used fictitiously.

  Covers Design Director: Karen D. Badger

  Interior Design and Formatting: Karen D. Badger

  Interior Artwork – Kelly Jo Stevens

  Front Cover Photography: Kieran York

  Edited by – Martha Ryan, Kathie Solie, and Barbara Oatley

  Published by Scarlet Clover Publishers L.L.C.

  P.O. Box 621002

  Littleton, Colorado 80162

  Printed and bound in the United States of America, UK, and Europe

  ISBN-13: 978-0692690789

  ISBN-10: 0692690786

  Books Also Written by Kieran York

  Astray

  Primrose

  Trevar’s Team: 1 (A Beryl Trevar Mystery)

  Within Our Celebration (Short Stories)

  Touring Kelly’s Poem

  Loitering on the Frontier

  Night Without Time

  Earthen Trinkets

  Careful Flowers

  Appointment with a Smile

  Timber City Masks - 1 (A Royce Madison Mystery)

  Crystal Mountain Veils - 2 (A Royce Madison Mystery)

  Shinney Forest Cloaks - 3 (A Royce Madison Mystery)

  Sugar With Spice (Short Stories)

  Blushing Aspen – 2014 Sappho's Corner Poetry Series (Poetry)

  Realm of Belonging (Poetry)

  Contributor to Sappho's Corner Poetry Series

  – edited by Beth Mitchum

  Wet Violets, Volume 2

  Roses Read, Volume 3

  Delectable Daises, Volume 4

  Fallen Petals, Volume 5

  DEDICATION

  I dedicate Rasp Meadow Crossing to all the service dogs in the world today, and those that have bravely protected and given their lives.

  There are K-9 heroes in police and sheriff’s departments, and all law enforcement. The dogs serving military units, and those guarding, protecting, and caring for those who depend on them daily are my heroes.

  The service dogs that assist with medical care, that lead the blind, and that are there to comfort and protect – we are all grateful for their service.

  This includes the dogs sharing our lives. Our pets keep us safe, and happy. They make the world better for us. All our furry friends save us in one way or another.

  The fictional Chance is a special dog, as was Smoky.

  I thank Clover – my best friend and CEO of Scarlet Clover Publishers. She is my saver!

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  First, as always, I acknowledge the wonderful women that made this book come true. Thank you to Editors Martha Ryan, Kathie Solie, and Barbara Oatley. Thank you to Karen D. Badger for the cover design and formatting of this book. Thanks to our resident artist, Kelly Jo Stevens – she always creates exactly what is needed for each work of art. I am so fortunate to know and work with you all. It is a great privilege.

  Always, I thank my all friends and my family. They understand when I don’t answer my phone, my mail, my emails. They ‘get it’ when I am a million miles away during conversations, when I forget what they said – I was probably in that fictionalize zone where the world’s sounds are silent, and the light goes dim. All I’m hearing is the blast of dialogue from characters; all I’m seeing is the interaction of a fictional cast. Many thanks to all those that are a part of my life.

  An additional acknowledgement: I was driving through Littleton, Colorado, when I saw a Littleton Police vehicle. It was parked, and I studied it. I wanted to know more about it –since my main character, Royce Madison, drives this vehicle.

  I asked the policeman if I could take a look at the vehicle - for research. He not only said that it would be fine to check it out, he offered to answer any questions I might have.

  He kindly pointed out the various systems of the official police vehicle called the Interceptor. I felt as though I’d had a terrific tutorial on this law enforcement SUV.

  So I thank Officer James Fountain for taking part of his lunch hour to answer my questions. This old lady crime writer appreciated his knowledge, professionalism, and generosity of time. I also thank him and his fellow officers for making the world safer.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  About the Author

  Coming Soon from Scarlet Clover Publishers LLC

  Chapter 1

  SUMMER – TIMBER CITY, COLORADO

  Sheriff Royce Madison heard the dispatcher issue a distress warning.

  Since arriving on the scene of this raging, devastating Colorado mountain wildfire, she had heard the distress warning hundreds of times. The past few days had been filled with heartbreak.

  When an emergency occurred, each county offered as many of their firefighters, law enforcers, and volunteers as they could spare. Royce had selected Deputy Tanner Morris to accompany her to assist with the fire in Elk County, the county adjoining Royce’s Timber County.

  Undersheriff Nick Hogan was in charge of both Crystal and Timber City while Royce was working with forestry firefighters. Royce and Tanner worked primarily on the evacuation of residents and their livestock, as well as preventing looters from plundering their homes and property.

  Tanner’s voice was hoarse from the smoke. “The way the wind is surging, if we get another ignition, the fire flanking the west will incinerate this area.”

  Having seen days of the demonic fire engulfing so much acreage, Royce swallowed away depression. “Maybe we’ll catch a break. They radioed that they have the hot zone tamed. We can only hope for a wind shift so the flaming wall will blow back against itself.” She tasted the grit of carbon. “I want all the inhabitants to be safe. And they aren’t.”

  Words were heard through the radio’s static. “We’ve got a person trapped near the Rasp Meadow area. About a half a mile west of the Crossing.”

  Royce responded, “Deputy Morris and I are nearby.” Rasp Meadow Crossing was in Timber County, and adjoined the county where the fire was located. “I know exactly where it is.”

  She was familiar with its location for two reasons. One was that she and her former lover had spent time there together. It was a place of beauty and mystery. They had shared both the setting and their knowledge of it. The other memory emerged because it was where Timber County’s oldest cold case homicide had been discovered.

  “I’ll patch you through to the trapped volunteer,” the dispatcher relayed.

  As Royce drove the mountainous backroad toward Rasp Meadow, she thought of her visits the
re. The Rasp was a section of mountains that appeared to be stair steps. Its magnificence made it a treasured bit of Colorado’s beauty.

  Tanner answered the call that was coming in. “We’re not far.”

  The woman’s voice surprised Royce. “It’s near the Crossing. Just continue on the backroad west for half a mile …”

  “I know exactly where it is,” Royce interrupted with amazement in her words. She put her foot down on the accelerator petal.

  “Royce?” veterinarian Hertha White, inquired. Her voice reflected shock.

  “Yes,” the sheriff’s voice was scratchy. The Timber County vehicle climbed a small foothill. Behind it was a meadow that rose in front of a steeply gradient peak. It was terraced with a cascading stream. About half a mile down the road, Royce saw a stranded truck. Her pulse rushed, and she nervously blinked. “I can see a vehicle with horse trailer from here.”

  “I can see you now, too,” Hertha replied.

  “We’ll be right there, Hertha.” Royce said before disconnecting the conversation.

  Deputy Tanner Morris frowned. “Isn’t Hertha the name of the woman you lived with for fifteen years? The veterinarian? She moved away last year?”

  “Yes,” Royce answered. “I’m guessing she’s here volunteering to save animals.”

  “The wind changed again. The fire is beyond the foothills to our left. If it jumps, we’re in a world of hurt.” Flames fanned behind the mountains smoke.

  Royce glumly teased, “Tanner, roll down your window, stick your head out and blow.”

  The deputy laughed nervously. “Will do, boss. Is that your way of saying I’m a blowhard, or I should have become a firefighter?”

  Royce grinned. “Take your choice.”

  “I wanted to become a firefighter or an enforcer, actually.”

  “You make a heck of a fine deputy,” Royce answered. In actuality although Tanner Morris had for the past year been dedicated to the force, Royce sensed the fact that he had a problem with gunfire. He had returned to the United States after serving as a Marine in the Middle East. She recognized that he might still be thinking about what many soldiers endured. For some reason, Royce wondered if he might mentally be more comfortable as a firefighter. “You think you’d be happy chasing blazes?”

  “I think so. But I like being a deputy. I just want to feel I’m doing something to make the world safer.” Turning, he glanced back at the smoke that was beginning to cap the mountains. Tanner was a handsome man in his mid-twenties. Clean cut, his sable dark hair and baby blue eyes made him a favorite of the local young women. “That’s why I fought overseas. To make things better.”

  Royce considered the brave warriors who fought honorably, and then faced hardships when they returned to their country. “Hey, Tanner, I’m one among millions of Americans that are thankful for your service.” She smiled and said, “So we’re about to get a chance to make the world a little safer for a woman and some animals.”

  Tanner asked, “I’ll bet you miss Chance.”

  “Leaving her behind was a decision I made so that she would be not only helping Nick, but for the sake of her lungs.” Undersheriff Nick was glad to have Royce’s German shepherd accompany him while she was away from Crystal and Timber City. “But yes, I do miss her very much.”

  Royce felt blessed that Chance had come into her life. She had missed her previous dog. Deputy Smoky had been with her for fifteen years. When she had been together with Hertha, Smoky was their schnauzer, and had been deputized for her good works in the community. Smoky had endeared herself to the entire community of Timber City. The schnauzer’s bravery had saved lives, and helped bring justice to the small mountain town. Royce was devastated when Hertha left her, and when Smoky died, both at nearly the same time a year ago.

  It was then when Nick brought Chance to Timber County. It was with the purpose of the undersized German shepherd becoming Royce’s dog. Chance had been a Denver flunk-out from the K-9 school. Over the past year the dog had proved herself time and time again.

  As Royce and Tanner approached the Rasp Meadow Crossing, it became clear why the distress call from Hertha White had been made. In the middle of the Crossing, Hertha’s truck with a horse trailer had slid from a driveway into a trench. It would need to be pulled back onto the road.

  Rapidly, Royce parked her vehicle and exited. Hertha was standing beside the cab. “Sorry to call, but the trailer’s tire went flat and I lost control.”

  “We can get you pulled from there. Then we’ll change the tire.”

  “I appreciate that you’re rescuing me. Again,” Hertha spoke with quiet reserve.

  Deputy Tanner Morris observed the cautious way the women spoke. They were being purposefully selective of their words. The depth of emotion was visible.

  For the next ten minutes Royce and Tanner hurriedly pulled the truck from the ravine and changed the tire. The horses inside the trailer kicked intensely as they shifted. Royce wasn’t certain if they were spooked because of the enclosure, or the film of smoke that was becoming a haze over the area.

  Royce instructed, “Tanner, I’ll handle it from here. You take our vehicle back to Elk Ridge. We’ll go directly to the fairgrounds where the larger evacuated animals are being taken. I’ll finish and drive this rig out.” She tightened the lug nuts, then stood. As she watched Tanner hasten away, she motioned for Hertha to get into the truck’s cab. “I assume you’re going to want to go to the fairgrounds with the horses?”

  “Yes, I told the owners I’ll meet them there with their horses. The colt needed to be tied away from the mother horse. I said I’d do it so that the family could get away.”

  “That young horse is a little kicker,” Royce commented. “Frisky, I think that is the term Gran would use.” Royce lived with her octogenarian grandmother, Dora Madison. She had moved in with Gran after Hertha left her.

  “How is your Gran?”

  As Royce maneuvered across the bumps in the uneven county road, she felt her heart clasp into a fist. “I’m sure you get reports from Gwen and Nadine. Gran is fine.”

  “I don’t speak with our friends much anymore. I feel written out of Timber City.”

  “You left. They didn’t. I didn’t.” Royce closed the truck’s windows. The smoke was getting thicker. In the rearview mirror, she saw a few flames lapping above the ridge. If they jumped, they would become a flame-driven canopy. There was enough bone-dry, combustible vegetation to spark the ground debris. Certainly the Rasp would be lost. “Looks like we’re evacuating here just in time.”

  Hertha bit her lower lip. She was gazing out the passenger’s side window. “Royce, please believe that my leaving was as difficult for me as it was for you.”

  Royce clamped her jaw. Her light blue eyes narrowed. Her long, tapered fingers scratched her short, corn silk blonde hair. Pouty lips, above a softly cleft chin, began to move. They then stopped a moment. Finally, the sheriff uttered, “Hertha, I didn’t believe that to be the case when you left. And I don’t believe it now.”

  ***

  Royce drove with as much speed as she could. She stole a quick glance back. The fire beyond the mountain was lifting, and some of the flame was smoldering atop the trees. She suddenly realized that the sparks were now blazes, and it would impede their way. The smoke was becoming denser. A gauze blotched the sky to their immediate south. The gusts were whirling sooty dust. Royce heard an explosion coming from the ranch they were evacuating. “A propane tank or vehicle exploded. If sparks hit the pinon-juniper trees and grasses, those flames will be unleashed in this direction.”

  “Royce,” Hertha’s voice was weak. “I’m not sure we can get to the Crossing. This road is getting bad. Can we make it by the trail roads off to the north?”

  “I’m not sure we can make it through with the horse trailer. Grab the radio and see if we can get some assistance.”

  As Hertha called dispatch, Royce became tense. The wind was furiously blowing smoke in two directions. Dispatch was sending bac
kup, but suggested Royce take a southern direction.

  “Royce, remember the southern rangeland is probably too heavily rutted. We’ll never get the trailer over it. We’ve got to try going around.”

  “We might not be able to get the trailer over either passage way. But you’re right going north and then hitting the road that leads back into the Crossing is the best chance. As I recall, it’s a drivable road. I can’t believe how quickly the winds changed. Tell them we’re trying north.”

  Royce braced at the turn off. The vehicle crept over some small rivulets, and then Royce felt the trailer’s drag over jagged rocks. Continuing, she carefully guided the truck and trailer up through heavy brush.

  The difficult terrain made it more and more precarious. Suddenly the trailer became stuck as they tried to pass through a forest of dense trees. After several attempts, Royce realized that there was no way. She looked back at the southern route. It was flaming. Had they taken that road, they would be in the middle of a blaze.

  Both women were aware that they must now outrun both the waves of fire, as well as the sediments of soot that were coursing behind them. “Did you bring the mare’s saddle and bridle?” Royce asked.

  “All the gear is back there. Even a rope for the colt. But can we do it? Ride out on the horse?’

  “We have no choice. Even if I ditch the trailer and back out of here, look at the smoke. We’ll be suffocated before we get to the Crossing. And we’d need to leave the horses behind. Please call dispatch to tell them about our plan.”

  She heard Hertha’s rushed report. “They’ll meet us as near as we can get to the Crossing. They said they’d bring a trailer.”