Hunting Hour

by Margaret Mizushima

  Robo took the command in stride, putting his nose to the ground and taking her back uphill. In the dimming light, she found several prints and partial prints that she marked with orange flagging tape on short metal spikes. Large size, flat sole, rounded toe, and square heel. Maybe a work boot, probably too large for a woman. But again, assumptions could be misleading.

  Halfway up the hill, Robo darted off to the left and sniffed under a dense clump of rabbit brush. He stretched forward, his neck lengthening in the pose he used to touch something with his mouth. Then he turned to sit and stare at her.

  “What did you find?” Mattie squatted beside him, putting one arm around him to brace her tired body, and peered beneath the plant. A black thermal cap rested against the base of the brush. It looked clean, like it hadn’t been there very long.

  Did the killer drop this on his way down the hill?

  “Good find, Robo. Good boy!” After patting her dog, she marked the item with an evidence spike and photographed it with her cell phone, leaving it in place for the crime scene techs to process. “Let’s see if we can find something else.”

  As she neared the gravesite, she spotted Detective Stella LoSasso and Sheriff McCoy. She also recognized a third figure as Dr. McGinnis, Timber Creek’s sole physician and the Timber Creek County coroner. Sixty-something, the doctor had a mop of silver hair, which he wore longish in a 1960s style reminiscent of The Beatles. It drifted around his head in the light breeze that flowed uphill, making him easy to identify even in the dim light. Stella was snapping photographs of the body while McGinnis hovered next to it. When Stella finished, he squatted down to get a closer look.

  “So she was found at six thirty-seven, and school let out at three o’clock,” McGinnis said. “That’s our window.”

  “That’s right,” Stella said, looking up at Mattie and acknowledging her with a nod before turning her attention back to the doctor. Dressed casually in jeans and a brown jacket with a Timber Creek County Sheriff’s Department emblem on the sleeve, the detective looked like she’d left home immediately when called after hours. She’d scraped her long chestnut hair back and secured it at the nape of her neck, and the twilight touched on natural highlights that ran through it.

  “Did you find footprints?” Sheriff McCoy asked Mattie quietly as she drew near. McCoy was a large African American man, easily six foot three, and he presented himself in an unflappable manner that made Mattie glad to have him in charge. No surprise to her that she also felt a small amount of comfort in his presence, since he’d been the young deputy who’d rescued her when she was six years old, the night her family fell apart.

  “Yes,” she said. “I marked them. We’ve got several good ones. Robo also found a cap on the same route.”

  McCoy raised his brows and nodded before looking back at the body, drawing Mattie’s attention toward it as well.

  Dr. McGinnis was probing the victim’s face with gloved fingers while Stella held a flashlight. “We’ve got some rigor setting into her jaw and facial muscles, but . . .” He looked up at Stella. “May I move her slightly?”

  “Yes, but let’s move her as little as possible for you to get the information you need. I’d like to preserve this scene for our CSU.”

  Apparently Stella believed they were dealing with a homicide too, though accidental death would have to be ruled out. Someone had been up here with Candace, and that someone would know exactly what happened.

  Dr. McGinnis lifted one of Candace’s arms and then replaced it, pushed gently against a leg. “Rigor is starting in her extremities. I’m thinking she’s been dead right around three hours, maybe a little less.”

  Stella glanced at her watch. “It’s five after seven right now. So you’re estimating around four o’clock, maybe shortly after.”

  “Rough estimate.”

  “I understand.” Stella passed a gloved hand near Candace’s face without touching it. “Petechiae here.”

  Dr. McGinnis touched the tiny purplish-red spots that dotted the area around her nose and mouth. “Yes, most likely from suffocation. But no bruising on her neck.” While Stella continued to train the light on the girl’s face, he raised one of her eyelids and revealed bloodshot whites around the staring, opaque eyes.

  Stella swept the light to Candace’s hands. “She has some broken fingernails. Let’s go ahead and bag her hands before we do anything else.”

  While the two worked with the body, Mattie tried to come to grips with what this meant. A thirteen-year-old girl’s life had ended—a life that didn’t have a chance to even get properly started. Although the father had come to mind as her first suspect, she tried to think of other possible motives for the teen’s death. Drugs. Every recent death in Timber Creek had been drug related. They had to at least consider it.

  But there were other options too. What about teen rivalry or jealousy? Timber Creek didn’t have a gang faction, but infighting among the different groups—the jocks, goths, cowboys, nerds—wasn’t uncommon. Even so, it was hard to imagine one of them killing another.

  A random killing by someone passing through town? Another long shot. Whoever killed Candace appeared to have known her. And the people who came up this hill were typically kids or someone else associated with the school.

  Stella’s conversation with the doctor brought her attention back to them.

  “I’m glad you could identify Candace,” Stella was saying. “Saves us from having to make her parents do it.”

  McGinnis wore a somber expression. “I’ve been this child’s doctor since she was a little girl.”

  Mattie hadn’t thought of that. But of course, this man was the only doctor in town.

  Sheriff McCoy spoke, his voice deep and solemn with sympathy. “I know how hard this must be for you, Dr. McGinnis. Can you share any thoughts about her and what might have gone wrong up here?”

  The doctor nodded, but he looked back at Stella. “I need to get a body temperature. Under the arm will do. We can disturb her clothing as little as possible.”

  “All right.” Stella assisted, both of them moving the girl’s body with care. “This is a skimpy top she has on under her jacket for this time of year. And pretty fancy underwear.”

  Mattie caught a glimpse of a black spaghetti-strap-and-lace concoction covering a chest not yet fully developed. The girl was barely past the training bra stage.

  After placing the thermometer, McGinnis shifted from kneeling to settle back on his heels to wait, obviously uncomfortable holding the position on the rocky ground. He looked up at the sheriff. “Candace had a respiratory condition, asthma, and several allergies that would set off her episodes. Her condition has been relatively under control with medications during the past few years. I haven’t seen her in my office as much as I used to. But it concerns me that it looks like she’s died of asphyxia.”

  “Any thoughts on that?” Stella asked.

  “There are some plants up here that might have set her off,” McGinnis said, glancing around the area. “You should search her pockets for her inhaler.”

  Mattie spoke up. “Her mother said she found Candace’s inhaler on her dresser at home.”

  McGinnis looked at Stella. “Another thought . . . she could have choked on something like a piece of hard candy.”

  “Shall we look in her mouth?” Stella asked.

  “We should,” McGinnis said, carefully removing the thermometer, reading it, and then making a notation on a pad. “But if it’s lodged between her vocal cords, I won’t be able to see it.”

  “Let’s have you take a look anyway.”

  McGinnis took a scope from his kit, and while Stella helped him open the girl’s jaw as much as possible considering the rigor, he peered inside. “I can’t see anything. If there’s anything there, it’ll stay put for the medical examiner to find.”

  Each time Stella and the doctor moved the girl, they returned her to the position in which she’d been found, arms bent and hands crossed carefully on her chest. Stella ge
stured toward the corpse. “Do you have an opinion about the posing?” she asked McGinnis.

  Pausing to think, the doctor stared at Candace and spoke slowly. “It looks like someone who cared about her put her in that position.”

  “I agree. Or someone with remorse,” Stella said.

  McGinnis shrugged. “I suppose so.”

  “Most kids carry a backpack or something to and from school,” Mattie said. “I haven’t found anything like that up here.”

  Stella acknowledged Mattie with a nod. “Let’s turn her slightly, Doc. Doesn’t look like there’s anything under her, but I’d like to take a peek.”

  The two rolled Candace to one side. “She’s a tiny thing,” Stella murmured. “That’s enough. There’s nothing here. Let’s put her back the way she was.”

  After doing so, McGinnis rose from where he’d been squatting, joints creaking. “I have enough information to call the death and complete the paperwork. The body will go to the Byers County medical examiner as usual, right?”

  Stella nodded. “I’ll make sure you get a report.”

  Although the initial meeting between detective and coroner had been somewhat contentious, Mattie noticed that Stella seemed to be making more of an effort now that she was a formal member of the team. Perhaps Sheriff McCoy’s impeccable manners were rubbing off on her.

  “Can you tell us anything about her family?” Mattie asked McGinnis while he was putting his equipment and notes back into his bag.

  “She has two younger brothers. Mom’s a hardworking lady—often looks tired when she brings in the children.”

  “And the father?”

  McGinnis frowned as he stripped off his gloves. “I’ve never met him. Seems strange after all these years. Works at the mine in Rigby if I remember right.”

  “Thank you for the information, Dr. McGinnis,” McCoy said. “Is there anything else you might be able to tell us?”

  “Not off the top of my head. Other than the asthma, there’s nothing different about this child than any other that comes to my office. We can provide medical records if you want. Just bring us a warrant.”

  McCoy nodded as he said good-bye.

  After McGinnis left and was winding his way downhill, avoiding the areas that were marked with orange tape, Brody came uphill from farther south to join them. His eyes swept the scene, apparently taking in the stage of investigation they were at, and then stopped on Sheriff McCoy. “Has anyone told the parents yet?”

  McCoy shook his head, looking grim. “Not yet. I’ll do it. Detective, do you want to join me?”

  Stella’s face also showed distaste for the task. “I’d better. We’ll need to talk to them first. See if they have any ideas about how or why this happened to their daughter.”

  Mattie stood very still beside Robo. She’d already thought about what her role should be, although she wasn’t too excited about it. “I’d better go with you too. I think we should get permission to go through Candace’s room, and I’d like to see if Robo finds any drugs. Or if he hits on something anywhere else in the house for that matter.”

  Everyone’s attention turned toward Mattie, but Stella responded first. “I suppose you’re right. We’d better look into it, considering the drug problems we’ve had in town. And the sooner the better, before anyone has a chance to clean things out. Sheriff?”

  “I agree. Deputy Brody, stand guard here until the CSU arrives and then work on a warrant for the girl’s house. Let’s call Deputy Johnson back on duty to stand by at the high school and show them the way up here. Tell him to stop anyone else from coming up the trail. We need to keep people away from this scene.”

  “I’ll take care of it,” Brody said, his ice-blue eyes fierce. The last body they’d found was that of his sweetheart, and Mattie could tell that finding this one had reawakened his pain.

  Stella fell in beside Mattie as they followed Sheriff McCoy downhill. “What are you thinking?” Stella asked.

  “Nothing solid, but homicide. Drugs, teen infighting at school, random killing from someone passing through town, maybe someone either from school or her neighborhood that she was at odds with. But my primary suspect . . . her father.”

  Stella looked at her sharply. “Why her father?”

  Mattie shared her reasons—his absence at the house, his drinking.

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” Stella said.

  They’d reached the area of torn-up terrain, now surrounded by tape. Sheriff McCoy had stopped beside it. “This could be where she was killed,” he said. “Or if her death was accidental, as Dr. McGinnis suggested, maybe someone was trying to help her with an asthma attack.”

  “Seems like more of a scuffle than that,” Stella said, scanning the area and then looking back uphill. “Odd that the killer carried her uphill to leave her body.”

  Mattie shared her observation that the gravesite was hidden from both the school and highway. “Maybe that’s why she was taken uphill. To avoid detection from down below.”

  McCoy nodded his agreement. “Must have been someone with muscle.”

  “True,” Mattie said. “Although she’s not very big.” And with a sense of outrage, it struck her again that their victim was only thirteen years old.

  As a group, they turned and continued downhill toward their grim mission, delivering the news to Candace’s parents. And if Mattie’s suspicions about Burt Banks were true, they’d be delivering the news to her killer.

  Chapter 4

  At the high school parking lot, they loaded into McCoy’s silver Grand Cherokee, Stella riding shotgun and Mattie and Robo in the back seat, and drove to the junior high. There, Mrs. Ketler was waiting on the front steps with Burt and Juanita Banks, their expressions etched with concern.

  Juanita Banks stared at them as they approached, her eyes moving from one face to another. She must have read something in them, because she blanched, and her body seemed to shrink as they drew near.

  Sheriff McCoy led the way. “Please, let’s go inside,” he said, gesturing toward the school doorway.

  Burt crossed his arms. “Tell us what you know.”

  Juanita sagged, and McCoy stepped up to grasp her elbow, easing her down to sit on the steps. Mrs. Ketler hovered beside her.

  McCoy straightened. “I’m sorry, but I do have bad news.” He cleared his throat and tugged lightly at his collar, his face showing his distress. “We’ve found Candace. And I’m sorry . . . she’s deceased.”

  Juanita groaned, folding forward and hugging her belly.

  “Oh, dear God,” Mrs. Ketler murmured. She sat down beside Juanita on the step and put her arm around her. “What happened?”

  Burt’s nostrils flared as he sucked in a breath. “Are you sure it’s her?”

  “Dr. McGinnis has identified her body for us,” McCoy said.

  “That quack? What does he know?”

  “Shut up, Burt. You don’t know anything.” Juanita’s voice wavered. With grief or with rage? Mattie couldn’t tell.

  Stella moved closer to Burt, observing him, perhaps noticing the odor of liquor on his breath that Mattie could smell from a distance.

  Burt glared at his wife and then shifted his gaze to McCoy. “Take me to her. I wanna see for myself.”

  “I’m sorry, but I can’t do that now. We don’t know your daughter’s cause of death yet, so we’re not letting anyone into the area where we found her.”

  Juanita was moaning, holding herself and rocking, but McCoy’s words must have caught her attention. “Where? Where is she?”

  “She’s near the high school, Mrs. Banks. We’ll let you see her as soon as we can.”

  “We’ll go now,” Burt said, turning to head for his vehicle, a battered gray truck.

  “Wait, Mr. Banks,” McCoy said. “I need you to stay clear of the area. We’re bringing in professionals to take care of Candace, and we need to give them space to do their work.”

  Burt caught a toe on an uneven place in the sidewalk and stumbled while Stella
stepped around to block his way, grasping his arm as if to assist him. He straightened, striking away her hand. Mattie and Robo moved closer, Robo’s hackles raised.

  “Just trying to keep you from falling, Mr. Banks,” Stella said in a soothing way. “You can help by talking to us, and we’ll take you to Candace as soon as we can.”

  “Is Candace alone?” Juanita asked the sheriff.

  “There’s a deputy watching over her.”

  Juanita covered her face and sobbed into her hands.

  “How did she die?” Burt demanded.

  “We don’t know her cause of death yet,” McCoy said. “But it will be investigated.”

  “Small-town cops,” Burt muttered. “Like that’s going to do any good.”

  “Mr. and Mrs. Banks, could we take you to your home while we wait?” McCoy said. “It’s getting cold out here.”

  Streetlights had switched on, and the temperature dropped after sundown.

  “I’ll drive you home in your car, Mrs. Banks,” Stella said. “Mr. Banks, perhaps you could ride with Sheriff McCoy.”

  Mattie appreciated that the detective had decided to isolate the parents from each other. She must be intending to interview them separately.

  “I’ll drive my own car,” Burt said.

  “Mr. Banks, I can’t allow you to drive right now, so I’ll take you home,” Sheriff McCoy said. And then he turned to Mrs. Ketler. “Thank you for your kindness, Mrs. Ketler. I’m sure Mr. and Mrs. Banks will need your help in the days to come, but for now, please feel free to return to your home. We’ll more than likely want to speak to you tomorrow. Will you be here at school?”

  “Yes,” Mrs. Ketler said, her eyes searching McCoy’s face and then moving beyond to stare into the schoolyard. “I’m not sure what to say to the students in the morning.”

  McCoy removed a business card and pen from his pocket and scribbled on the card’s back. “This is my cell phone number. Please call me later this evening and we’ll decide on a plan.”