Hunting Hour

by Margaret Mizushima

After she’d had a chance to eat most of her food, he spoke. “We’ve missed you.”

  She looked down at her plate instead of at him. “Same here. How are the girls doing?”

  “Better. I was just thinking tonight how well things seem to be going for both of them. We’re at an only-as-needed stage with our counseling.”

  This time the smile reached her eyes. “That’s wonderful. Good news to hear tonight.”

  “How about you, Mattie? How are you doing?”

  The smile faltered, although he could see she was putting on a brave face. “I’m doing fine—that is, until this evening.”

  Her left hand was lying loosely on the table, and he covered it with one of his. “Are you really doing okay?”

  She glanced at him sharply before looking at her empty plate. “I’ve been working on things,” she said with hesitation, “but I’m all right . . . really.”

  She withdrew her hand to reach for her water glass. He noticed a slight tremble in her fingers.

  Angie’s voice came from behind him. “I thought I’d find Dad in here raiding the fridge, but I didn’t know you’d be here too, Mattie.”

  Joy filled Mattie’s face as she rose from her seat. Cole turned in his chair to watch her cross the room to give his daughter a hug. A part of him acknowledged that he wished she’d greeted him with that amount of pleasure.

  “It’s good to see you, Angie,” Mattie said.

  “You too. Why haven’t you been at school lately?”

  The two parted, and Angie moved to the cabinet to get a small bowl, placing it on the countertop. Robo trotted over to greet her, and she bent to pet him.

  “I’ve been there,” Mattie said. “We’re doing a freshman rotation with the program, so our paths haven’t crossed.”

  Angie filled the bowl with Jell-O. “I’ve been working on the yearbook. We need to get some shots of you and Robo at school.”

  Mattie grinned. “Oh, wow. Are you sure?”

  “Of course. We’ll put it in the section with the rest of the school programs.”

  Mattie looked at Cole. “I never thought I’d be in the yearbook again.”

  “Maybe we could mention that you’re an alumni,” Angie said.

  Alumna, Cole thought, but he didn’t correct her. “What a great idea.”

  After Angie joined him at the table and Mattie took her seat, they chatted a little bit more about the yearbook, and then he decided to break the news about Candace Banks’s death. He wanted to see how much impact it had on Angela and what he was going to have to deal with.

  “Angel, do you know Candace Banks?” he asked.

  “I know who she is.”

  “Is she one of your friends?”

  Angie gave him one of those looks of hers. “Uh . . . no, Dad. Candace is in junior high.”

  Of course . . . how could I even think that someone in high school might be friends with someone from the junior high? “How well do you know her?”

  “I know of her. She’s got quite the reputation.”

  “What do you mean?” Cole asked.

  Angie gave him a sideways look before glancing at Mattie, who sat quietly, looking down at the table, fiddling with a spoon. “I don’t think I should say. You’ll freak out.”

  “Oh, come on, Angel. You should know me better than that.”

  Angie gave him a skeptical look before explaining. “She’s got a reputation with the guys. They talk about her a lot, brag about making a ‘Banks deposit.’”

  Cole jolted upright when her meaning hit him. “Good God!”

  Angie slid a look toward Mattie. “Told you he’d freak out.”

  Mattie lifted her face from where she’d been examining her plate, giving Angie a slight nod before looking at Cole with sadness.

  Angie must have caught Mattie’s expression, because hers became wary. “Why are you asking about Candace, Dad?”

  “Candace was found dead this evening. Behind the high school.”

  “Oh, my gosh! Did someone kill her?”

  Mattie shook her head. “We don’t know yet. I don’t want you to jump to that conclusion.”

  Why wouldn’t she? There’d already been others killed in Timber Creek, others with even closer ties to his daughter. “Her death will be announced at school tomorrow, so I wanted you to have advance warning. And Sophie might know Candace’s brothers. Mattie says they’re closer to her age.”

  Angie met his gaze. “Poor Soph. We have to tell her in the morning, Dad. She’ll just have to deal with it.”

  Cole realized that Angie’s teenage wisdom best described what they all were going to have to do. Deal with it. It seemed like that’s what his life was all about of late.

  Mattie sighed, rose from the table, and carried her dishes over to load in the dishwasher. “Thanks for dinner. I hate to eat and run, but I’m beat, and I have to be at work early in the morning.”

  After saying good night to Angie, Cole walked Mattie to the door, opening it for her and following her onto the front porch. He was worried about her. She looked thin, haunted, and worn out. Whatever was bothering her had to go back further than this afternoon’s terrible experience of finding the body of a dead child. He’d ignored these signs with Olivia; he didn’t want to make that mistake again with someone else important to him.

  He touched her forearm. “Mattie, wait.”

  She paused and turned to look up at him, the porch light illuminating her features. Robo trotted into the yard and started sniffing the flower beds.

  “I feel like something’s wrong. I mean something other than Candace. Are you all right?”

  She broke eye contact and turned to watch Robo. “I’m just tired.”

  “It looks like more than that. Like something’s been eating away at you.”

  “I’ll be all right. I just need a good night’s sleep.” She stepped off the porch, leaving him to drift behind in her wake. “Don’t worry.”

  He grasped her arm to stop her. “It looks like something’s bothering you. I don’t know. I don’t have a very good track record with this kind of thing, but I feel like it’s more than just needing a good night’s sleep.”

  She turned to him again with a half smile on her lips. “I look that bad, huh?”

  “Of course not. You look as good as ever. It’s just that . . . Well, if you need to talk, I’m here for you.” He realized that although he wanted to express his feelings, he wasn’t quite sure what they were. “The kids and I really care about you, Mattie. I don’t want you to be unhappy, and if there’s anything I can do to make things better for you, I want to try.”

  “It’s something I need to deal with on my own. Things will get better eventually. Right now though, I’ve got to go home. Robo, come on!”

  After she put Robo in the back, Cole opened the car door for her. It felt like she was drawing away, and he didn’t know how to stop it. She scooted into her seat, and he clasped her hand as it lay on the steering wheel. “I hope you’ll come over to see us again soon.”

  She tried to release his grip, but he wouldn’t let her put him off. A frown crossed her brow as if she’d grown irritated. “I’ll be tied up with this investigation.”

  That felt like a dismissal, and he let go and stepped back. “Stop by whenever you can. You’re always welcome.”

  She started her engine as she spoke. “Thanks. Say hi to Sophie and Mrs. Gibbs for me.”

  He nodded and closed the car door, stepping back while keeping his eyes on her. He raised his hand to wave, but she didn’t look up as she reversed her car and drove away. It left him unsettled. Lonely.

  Strange how seeing her again stirred up these feelings. It was easy to go his own way, focused on family and work, and let the days go by without seeing someone who meant so much. He knew he missed her, but he didn’t realize how long it had been until she was standing there in the flesh, looking so different.

  How do I feel about Mattie?

  He respected her. She’d had a rough childhoo
d, but she valued family and justice like he did. And she seemed to love his kids. That was important. And they had other things in common, like the way they loved animals, valued safety in their home and community, and had respect for others.

  Quit the analysis and figure out how you feel.

  Sheesh, counseling could come back and bite you in the butt. Okay, he liked her a lot, and he thought she cared for him too.

  He wouldn’t let her pull away. Not unless he knew for a fact that she didn’t want to have anything to do with him anymore.

  *

  Mattie drove home with her mind in a whirl. While it had been good—wonderful, in fact—to see the two Walkers again, being near Cole, getting to be close enough to feel his warmth and receive his generous hugs, made her chest ache. Last fall, she’d realized that she loved him, but being around him and his kids through the Christmas season had taught her something very important.

  Cole still loved his ex-wife.

  Although that wasn’t the sole reason she’d pulled away, it was a large part of it. The other part was the fact that she needed some time and space to work through the shitstorm that her father had left inside her. She longed to be with Cole and his children in the worst way but didn’t see how it was possible under the circumstances.

  Poor Candace. Had her father caused the same turbulence and distorted worldview inside her? Mattie felt certain that he had. And if so, had it somehow contributed to her death?

  She parked outside in the darkness in front of her home, wishing she’d left the porch light on for herself. Feeling hollow, she turned to Robo, and he moved forward so that she could pet him. An all-consuming sadness descended upon her as she thought of Juanita Banks, who grieved the loss of her only daughter, and she wondered about her own mother, who’d willingly left her only daughter behind.

  She swiped at her eyes and fought back tears as she popped open Robo’s cage to let him exit out the front with her. She wouldn’t let herself be distracted by her own garbage; she and the others had a case to solve.

  Chapter 7

  Wednesday

  Cole’s assistant entered the clinic with her usual greeting. “Hi, hi.”

  Sitting at the computer, Cole glanced up and then settled back in his chair to take in her new hairdo. Typically, Tess had unnaturally red hair, which she wore cut short and gelled up into small spikes, but today she had something new going on. Blue tips. A base of red with blue spikes. She looked like a walking ad for Independence Day.

  “Hey,” Cole said with hesitation. He didn’t know if he should mention her hair or not.

  “Do you like my new ’do?”

  “It’s colorful.”

  Tess gave him a patronizing smile, sort of like the one Angie had perfected. “Tom doesn’t like it either.”

  Tom being her husband. “I didn’t say I didn’t like it.”

  “Hmm . . . Didn’t need to.” She took off her jacket and hung it up on one of the wall hooks. “Do we have a big morning scheduled?”

  Cole got up from the computer so that she could have her seat. “Not too bad. Just routine office stuff. No surgeries today, but we need to get some instrument packs set up and sterilized if you can get to it.”

  “I’m on it.”

  The first clients of the day entered, and Cole escorted the couple and their dog through the swinging door into the treatment room. The phone was ringing as he left the lobby.

  When he finished giving the dog its vaccinations and called his next client in, Tess signaled that she wanted to talk to him at the pass-through. He excused himself and met her there.

  “Gus Tilley just called and scheduled an appointment to have you preg check his mare. He was already in town, so I worked him in next. I juggled your schedule a bit to do it.”

  Cole frowned. “I saw his dog last night. He called me after he’d arrived in town then too. I’ll have to talk to him about calling first before he makes the drive for routine appointments.”

  “I’ll take care of it.”

  “Explain to him that we might have been out of the office, and he would have wasted his time trailering his horse into town.”

  “Okay. I never would have thought of that,” she said, giving him one of her sassy grins before turning away.

  Cole realized he’d been micromanaging again. Tess would break him of that habit someday, although it was a bad one and she hadn’t yet succeeded, even after all these years.

  He finished up with his cat client, went through the kennel room to the back door, and let himself into the horse treatment area. He heaved the rolling door open to the outside and found Gus Tilley waiting with a short, stout, Quarter Horse mare. Cole remembered her. Sorrel in color, white star on the forehead, went by the name Lucy.

  Gus glanced up at him before hanging his head and slapping the end of the mare’s lead rope gently against his thigh, looking like a man who’d been well chastised.

  Cole hoped Tess hadn’t been too harsh. “Hi, Gus. Bring her on in.”

  “Sorry, Doc. Didn’t know you were so busy today.”

  “No problem. I just don’t want you to make that drive sometime when we can’t work you in.”

  “My phone’s out. I’ve been using the phone at the gas station at the edge of town.”

  “Oh, no! Will they get out there to fix it for you soon?”

  Gus hung his head, looking embarrassed. “I must’ve forgot to pay the bill.”

  Cole wondered if he was having money trouble and decided to drop the whole thing. He unlatched the endbar of the stocks and swung both it and the sidebar wide open. “Go ahead and lead her in here.”

  Gus led the mare slowly into the metal stanchion, and Cole closed it so that she was standing inside the sturdy rectangle that would hold her still while he worked on her. He took the lead rope from Gus and tied the mare’s head to the front for extra security.

  Gus was still looking ill at ease, so Cole opted for levity in an attempt to make him feel better. “I have a rule here at the clinic. No one should get hurt while we work on the animals,” he said, going on with a grin, “especially not me.”

  Gus nodded while alarm touched his face.

  Attempt failed. “Just kidding, Gus. Lucy’s never given us any problems before.”

  Cole took his portable ultrasound machine out of the storage cabinet against the wall and began to set it up on a stainless-steel table beside the stocks. “How’s Dodger’s ear this morning?”

  “Better, Doc. Thanks for seeing him last night.”

  “He must’ve had something in his ear and then scratched it out. Sounds like we’re on the right course with him.”

  The machine set up, Cole put on a long plastic glove called a sleeve that covered his entire left arm. After squirting lubricant on it, he began the procedure to clear the mare’s lower bowel of fecal matter. Once the bowel was clear, he flipped on the machine and gently inserted the transmitter, guiding it up to a place that was directly above the mare’s uterus. He watched his progress on the ultrasound screen and paused when he reached the right place.

  The uterus looked perfectly normal for an open mare. No pregnancy.

  “I’m afraid she’s not pregnant, Gus. See here on the screen. This is the uterus, and there’s nothing here to indicate a pregnancy.”

  Gus stared at the screen and crossed his arms, noncommittal.

  Cole finished up the procedure, taking a couple screen shots and printing them out, one for his records and one to send home with Gus.

  He removed the transmitter, cleaned it, and then stripped off the soiled sleeve, throwing it into the trash. “How long ago was this mare bred, Gus?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “A week, two weeks, a month?”

  “I don’t reckon I know when she was bred.”

  That was a strange answer. “We can see a pregnancy at about twelve to fifteen days on an ultrasound. Was she with a stallion at least two weeks ago?”

  Gus shook his head and looked down a
t the floor. “Not that I know of.”

  “More recent?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  Gus looked up at him briefly before sliding his gaze off sideways. In that second, Cole sensed confusion mixed with a hint of suspicion in his client’s eyes. Did Gus think he was lying to him?

  Cole handed him the ultrasound photo and pointed out landmarks while he explained. “Here’s a picture of her uterus. When a mare is pregnant, we see a dark spot inside here where the embryo implants. There’s nothing like that here. She’s open.”

  Gus took the photo and stared at it.

  Cole had another thought. “Did you have this mare artificially inseminated?”

  “Nope. Not by my choice.”

  He waited, but Gus seemed to have no further explanation. “You can keep that,” he said when Gus started to hand the picture back to him. “Why did you think the mare could be pregnant?”

  Gus folded the picture slowly and put it in his shirt pocket. “The way she looks.”

  “How’s that?”

  “She’s gettin’ pretty big through the belly.”

  Cole studied the mare. The sorrel horse stood about fifteen hands, maybe less, built short and sturdy. Her stout neck and full hip, as well as her torso, showed that she’d packed on some extra pounds. “She’s gained some weight over the winter. Have you been giving her grain?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You might eliminate that and just stick to grass hay. Be careful if you turn her out to grass this spring. We don’t want her to founder.”

  Gus couldn’t have looked more alarmed if Cole had told him the mare had sprouted two heads. “Don’t want that. I . . . I’ll keep her in the corral.”

  Surprised at the man’s reaction, Cole wondered if he’d been too blunt. Perhaps he should try harder to explain. “What I’m saying is, she’s carrying some extra weight, so she might be at risk to founder if she goes out and eats all the lush green grass she can find. You can help her out by not feeding her grain now and sticking to grass hay, just a flake in the morning and evening. We can take some weight off her now so she’s ready for pasture later. But when you turn her out onto grass, just let her out for an hour at first. Limit her time on pasture so she doesn’t get an overload. That’s what causes the founder.”