“Yes, sir. She has a nice clean stall inside the barn.”
“I’ll put a patch over it. We need to keep it clean, apply the ointment twice a day, and give her an anti-inflammatory. That will also help her with the discomfort.”
Tess left to get the other supplies Cole needed to finish the treatment.
“You’ve had a rough patch with your animals here the last couple days,” Cole said.
“Yeah, but Dodger’s doing fine now. Still scratches his ear once in a while though. Could there be something inserted under the skin of the flappy part?”
“You mean like a sticker or a grass seed? I didn’t see anything like that when I examined him.”
“I mean like . . . well, like an implant.”
Frowning, Cole searched Gus’s face. “An implant? What kind of an implant?”
Gus shook his head and avoided Cole’s gaze. “I don’t know. I . . . I don’t know. Growth hormone? A tracker?”
Did Gus insert something into Dodger’s ear? “Did you bring him with you?”
“He’s in the truck.”
“When we’re finished here, let me take a look at him.”
Tess returned with the medications and eye patch, and Cole finished up quickly, showing Gus how to dose with the anti-inflammatory paste. The gentle mare tolerated everything well, and he hoped Gus wouldn’t have a problem treating her. “Let’s have you bring her back for me to take a look in two days, but call me if you have concerns about it sooner,” Cole said as he untied Lucy’s head and opened the stocks. Lucy backed out slowly.
“Your next client is waiting,” Tess said as she started cleaning up.
“I’ll be right there. I need to take a quick look at Dodger.”
Gus led Lucy to the trailer, and Cole watched as he carefully opened the end gate, making sure it didn’t hit the horse. She stepped up into the trailer without hesitation. Gus’s mannerisms were as gentle with Lucy as they had been with Dodger, and Cole began to feel foolish for suspecting he might have done anything to hurt one of his animals. He noticed Sophie out a ways, kicking her ball and running behind it.
After Gus tied Lucy inside, he closed and secured the trailer gate and went around to the passenger side of the truck. “Good boy, fella,” he said to Dodger, using a voice pitched high enough to border on baby talk. “Come on. Jump down.”
The dog jumped down from the seat and trotted around, looking up at Gus with nothing short of adoration. Gus squatted and Dodger wiggled into his arms, wagging his tail and his whole body. Gus held him gently while Cole bent over him to examine the ear. The pinna was soft, smooth, and showed no sign whatsoever of inflammation or a foreign object.
“There’s nothing here, Gus.” Cole peered inside the ear, and it looked squeaky clean. “Looks good inside too. Keep up the treatment for one more day and then stop. I’m sure he had an irritation of some kind, and he’s getting over it. He’s doing fine now.”
Gus beamed and loaded Dodger back into the truck. Cole wanted to tell him not to worry so much but wasn’t sure if that was what the man needed. Sometimes these problems came in clusters. He wouldn’t see a client for months, and then he’d see the same client for different problems several days in a row.
He was about to say good-bye when Gus surprised him. Taking off his cap and fingering it, he looked up shyly. “Can I see your little girl’s chicks?”
“Why . . . sure.” He called out to Sophie, making her catch her ball and come running.
She was ecstatic to show Gus her chickens, and Cole left them in the back of the clinic, peering into the box. He asked Tess to check on them after a few minutes, and she returned from the kennel room shaking her head and chuckling. “They’re talking about the best design for a chicken coop. Prepare yourself.”
When Cole finished up twenty minutes later, he discovered Gus still there with Sophie. Gus sat cross-legged on the concrete floor, one elbow propped on his knee bracing his head on his hand, looking enthralled while Sophie told him the story of Chicken Little. Complete with dramatic flourishes, she was saying, “The sky is falling. The sky is falling.”
Cole took a moment to lean against the doorframe and enjoy watching his daughter tell the story, too, understanding completely what his client found so fascinating.
Chapter 12
It was late afternoon, and Mattie sat at her desk, thinking.
She and Stella had finished interviewing the two high school kids named by Brooks Waverly. Their involvement mirrored that of the other boys, and Mattie felt sick at heart after talking to them. This case stirred up old feelings of fear and helplessness that she didn’t quite know what to do with. Her therapist’s assignment to think about trust and emotional resilience came to mind, but she shoved it away, wanting to stay focused on solving the murder of Candace Banks.
All the boys they’d interviewed denied knowing anything about the cap found along the killer’s escape route. It was frustrating that she couldn’t turn this item into evidence that could point to a suspect.
Sheriff McCoy had called a meeting in the briefing room, but she still had a few minutes before it started. She pulled out her cell phone and dialed Sergeant Jim Madsen, Robo’s trainer.
He answered after the second ring, his drawl friendly and teasing. “How ya doin’, Deputy Mattie Cobb?”
“Not so well at the moment, Sarge.” She shared with him that Robo had found a girl’s body. “We tracked an unknown suspect away from the gravesite, and Robo found a black thermal cap by the trail. I’ve also got a lineup of people it might belong to.”
“And you want to do a scent identification lineup, right?”
“That’s what I was thinking.”
“Robo hasn’t been trained for that. It’s more popular in Europe. We don’t use it much here in the US, and it wouldn’t be admissible in court.”
“I don’t care about that. All I want is a lead,” Mattie said. “What do you think? Could I train him to do it?”
“Given a little time, you could train that dog to do anything, Deputy. Hell, he’d drive your vehicle if you’d let him.” Madsen paused for a few beats. “Do you still have that training clicker I gave you?”
“Of course.”
“Here’s what I think you should do.”
*
The team sat around the table in the briefing room, all present except for Robo. Mattie had left him snoozing in her office on his dog bed. As tired as she felt, she wished she could join him.
Stella briefed the others on the results of the afternoon’s interviews, ending with how the kids denied knowledge or ownership of the cap. “Both Mattie and I think Brooks Waverly was lying when he denied it. Whether or not he’s our killer, I think that kid knows something about Candace’s death.”
Mattie took a breath before starting to speak. She felt like she was going out on a limb. “That cap has to be loaded with the scent of the person who wore it. I just got off the phone with Sergeant Madsen. We’ve come up with a way we could use it as a scent article, something quicker than DNA.” She shared their plan.
McCoy frowned. “And this is something Robo hasn’t been trained to do yet?”
“Right. But I’m sure he could learn it in a few lessons.”
“I like to run these investigations by the book, and this sounds risky. We don’t want to focus on someone without proper evidence.”
“How do you plan to carry this off?” Brody asked.
“I’ll get some volunteers and train him this evening. If he takes to it like Sergeant Madsen and I think he will, we’ll be ready by morning. We can bring all those kids in before school.”
Stella stared at her, lips pursed. Mattie looked to her for support, and the detective straightened. “Why not give it a try, Sheriff? If Robo isn’t one hundred percent accurate with a volunteer lineup by tomorrow, we’ll scrap the idea. But if he is, it would give us one more piece to look at. We can handle the information we get objectively, like any other piece of evidence.”
> Brody turned to McCoy. “I’ll stay and help with the training. Cobb and I can decide together if he’s ready or not in the morning.”
“I’ll stay too,” Stella said.
McCoy took a moment to study the faces of each member of his team before focusing on Mattie. “All right,” he said. “You’re authorized to give it a try.”
*
Mattie had bagged a scent article from each of her volunteers: a gauzy pink scarf from Rainbow, a rumpled sweat-stained handkerchief from Brody, and a pair of gloves from Stella’s coat pocket. In addition, she scavenged a decoy from Garcia’s desk, his baseball cap. The articles were set out in a row on a table in the briefing room.
She started with only one volunteer in the room—Rainbow, who now stood against the back wall.
“You have to stand still,” Mattie said. “Don’t speak to Robo and don’t pet him, okay?”
“Got it.”
Robo knew the first part of the drill. She offered him a sniff of Rainbow’s scent article and told him, “Search,” followed quickly by the command, “Show me.”
He trotted across the room toward Rainbow, and when he got to her, Mattie told him to sit. As soon as he did, she used a metal clicker to tell him he’d done the right thing and then crossed the room to give him a treat.
Sergeant Madsen had reinforced Robo’s new skills with clicker training, so her dog already knew what it was all about. The sergeant had given a clicker to each of the new handlers at academy when he demonstrated how to use it for training and reinforcement of new skills. He’d told Mattie to teach Robo to sit beside the person who matched the scent article, since it was the way he already indicated a drug find.
The secret to dog training was to set up incremental steps ranging from easy to difficult, making sure the dog achieved success at each step. After a few repetitions, Robo sat in front of Rainbow without verbal prompting, and Mattie introduced Brody into the room. He took a spot beside Rainbow, standing about three feet away from her.
Still using Rainbow’s scent article, Mattie asked Robo to identify her another time before switching to Brody’s handkerchief. When she made the switch, Robo didn’t miss a beat, and he went directly to Brody before sitting and looking at Mattie. She clicked and gave him a treat, grinning at him and telling the others, “Now I’ll use Garcia’s cap and teach him to come back to me.” This had been Madsen’s recommendation for Robo to indicate that the scent article matched no one in the lineup.
When she offered the article to Robo and gave him the “Show me” command, he wouldn’t even leave her side. He looked up at her, grinning and waving his tail. She realized that, knowing the staff here at the station as well as he did, Robo was well aware that Garcia was absent. Why expend that wasted effort to go across the room to sniff?
Madsen hadn’t told her what to do in this case. She decided to walk him over to the lineup and back and then told him to sit, giving him a treat for completing the sequence.
“I think he knows us all too well to make this challenging for him,” she said. “We’re going to need new subjects.”
Rainbow held up her hand. “I’ll call Anya and see if she can bring some of the gang in from the hot springs.”
Mattie wasn’t used to asking others for help. “Do you think they would come?”
“Of course. Anya thinks you’re amazing. She’d love to help us with Robo.”
It was hard for Mattie to know how to express her gratitude. “Thanks, Rainbow. Let me bring in Stella and add her to the lineup to complete this part of his training. Then we’ll give him a break while we wait for reinforcements to get here.”
Chapter 13
Thursday
Shirtless and toweling his wet hair, Cole strode from his bathroom to answer his cell phone as it jingled on his bedside table. He glanced at caller ID. No mistaking that number now; he’d seen it repeatedly. Gus Tilley.
He stifled his impatience. “What can I do for you, Gus?”
“I’ve got a problem, Doc. I can’t get the medicine into Lucy’s eye.”
“Do you have her head snugged down tight enough?”
“I think so, I just can’t get her eye open.”
Cole realized his client had a legitimate concern. “It is tough. You have to use a firm touch, and it takes some practice. Make sure she’s tied so her head can’t move and you’ve got everything in hand before you start. The clinic opens at eight. If you haven’t been able to get her done by then, call back and we’ll work you in.”
“Okay. I’ll give ’er another try.”
“If you want, you can leave her at my place until she doesn’t need treatment anymore.”
“I need to have her here where I can watch her,” Gus said, his tone solemn.
“We’ll work together until you can do it yourself then. It just takes practice. Call Tess after eight if you want to bring her in.” Juggling the cell phone from hand to hand, Cole had tugged on a sage-colored Western shirt and snapped the buttons one handed. It was seven thirty in the morning, and he was already beginning to feel the pressure of running behind schedule. Sheesh.
After ending the call, he tucked his shirttail into his Levi’s, swiped a comb through his damp hair, and put on his watch.
His thoughts went back to an article he read years ago on the topic of Munchausen syndrome by proxy with pets. It outlined experiences with clients who used their pets to get attention from their veterinarian. As he recalled, these clients might use naturally occurring illnesses but string out the treatment to seek attention, or they might even cause harm or injury to their animals themselves. Munchausen by proxy, whether with children or pets, was considered a serious mental illness, one that both doctors and veterinarians should be aware of. The typical client profile mentioned in the article was a woman with a small dog. Gus didn’t come close to that description, and he’d never called attention to himself in such a way in the past, but even so, it was something that came to mind.
Cole snagged his cell phone from the dresser where he’d left it, tucking it into his shirt pocket and snapping the pocket flap closed as he ran down the stairs. Mrs. Gibbs and the kids were already in the kitchen.
Sophie was scooping dry kibble into Belle’s and Bruno’s bowls.
“Good morning, Sophie-bug. Thanks for taking care of the dogs this morning.”
“You’re late, sleepyhead,” she said with a grin. “I wanna go to the clinic and see the chicks before school.”
“We can manage that.”
Mrs. Gibbs set a bowl of scrambled eggs on the table, and Angie was retrieving a pitcher of orange juice from the refrigerator.
“I’ve got a yearbook meeting again after school,” Angie said as she carried the pitcher to the counter to pour juice into empty glasses.
“I need to go to Willow Springs this afternoon for groceries and supplies,” Mrs. Gibbs said while she popped bread into the toaster. “Do I have time to get me hair permed, or shall I hurry home to meet the bus?”
Cole tried to recall his schedule while he poured coffee. “I can meet the bus. I have a couple stable calls this afternoon, but I can get home in time.”
“Lovely,” Mrs. Gibbs said, bringing a platter of toast to the table.
“And ye shall be lovely too,” Sophie said, grinning at Mrs. Gibbs. Cole detected a trace of the lady’s Irish accent sneaking into his daughter’s speech.
Sophie pulled out her chair and was climbing up into it when suddenly she sneezed.
“Bless you,” Mrs. Gibbs said.
Sophie sneezed again.
Mrs. Gibbs snatched a tissue from the box that sat on the cabinet by the phone and handed it to her. “You’re not catching a cold now, are ye, girl?”
“Nope.”
“You better not be. We have a party to plan for next week. We should write our invitations tonight,” Mrs. Gibbs said.
Another sneeze interrupted Sophie’s reply. Cole leaned over and put a hand on her forehead. It felt normal to him. “I don’
t think she has a fever, do you, Mrs. Gibbs?”
The housekeeper tested by putting her cheek against Sophie’s forehead. “Feels normal to me. Perhaps you have a bit of fluff up your snoozle, Miss Sophie.”
“Chicken fluff up my snoozle,” Sophie said, evidently liking the sound of the words. She repeated it a couple times before starting to eat.
“Let’s hurry, Sophie, so I can take you to the clinic to see the chicks, and then I’ll drive you both up the lane to meet the bus. Will that work for you, Angel?” Cole asked.
“I’m ready to go. I want to see the chicks too.”
They hurried to finish breakfast, threw on jackets and grabbed backpacks, and then spilled through the garage door to load into the truck. And with that, the Walker family launched the day. Cole felt like the race was on—he had a busy day ahead of him.
Another sneeze from Sophie resounded from the back seat, and his phone jangled in his pocket. Pulling it out, he checked to see who was calling. Gus Tilley. Again.
*
Before they’d called it quits the night before, Rainbow had rounded up a dozen volunteers, some from the hot springs, others her friends from around town. It surprised Mattie that so many were willing to help her train Robo. He’d responded like Sergeant Madsen thought he would, and he was matching scent articles to humans consistently by the time they’d gone home for the night. He’d also learned to come back and sit beside Mattie when he couldn’t find a match. His new game made him wag his tail and grin every time he played it.
About half the volunteers had returned that morning so Stella and the sheriff could test Robo’s accuracy. He performed at one hundred percent, and they decided to go ahead with the lineup.
Sheriff McCoy had called parents and asked them to bring their sons to the station. By midmorning, the five high school boys stood in a lineup against the back wall, each about three feet apart. Mattie had placed Brooks Waverly squarely in the middle, where he stood with a bit of a smirk on his face, showing some attitude for the benefit of his peers.
Hunting Hour Page 12