Killing Trail: A Timber Creek K-9 Mystery

by Margaret Mizushima

  Mattie put the cruiser in reverse, backed out of her parking space, and steered the car toward the highway. It was going to be a long drive up the mountain.

  After about ten minutes on the road, LoSasso broke the silence. “You didn’t turn up any evidence when you did a grid search yesterday?”

  Mattie gritted her teeth. “When I started the grid search, Robo alerted to the forest. That’s when I let him trail the scent, and he turned up the body.”

  “Didn’t you go back to the search?”

  “We also turned up the dog. She was injured and needed a vet. So I took her.” Even to her it sounded lame, a poor reason to abandon an evidence search. Mattie felt like kicking herself. The glory of Robo’s discovering a dead victim had been erased by her own inability to stay on track.

  “I see,” LoSasso responded. “Shoddy detective work, Deputy. By now, your canine’s nose could be useless at the crime scene.”

  Mattie hated to admit the woman might be right. “Maybe so. But we’ll do a sweep anyway. Dope could’ve been hidden in or near the cabin. We’ll see if we can turn something up.”

  LoSasso nodded.

  “Mike Chadron, the man we were talking about at briefing, shows and sells the same breed of dog as the one we found at the gravesite. I found out last night that he sold that dog to our victim.”

  “Was our victim involved in drug traffic? Did she use her dog as a mule?”

  “We don’t know. The vet swears she wasn’t that kind of kid.”

  “We’ll follow up on that when we talk to the daughter.”

  Mattie nodded. Once again, silence deepened until they reached the turnoff to Ute Canyon Road.

  “How far from here?” LoSasso asked.

  “About ten miles, but it’s slowgoing. Pretty rough.”

  “I realize in the hoopla of finding a body, you might lose track of what needs to be done next, but I think Sheriff McCoy should have done a better job.”

  Mattie wouldn’t stand for that. “Working with a K-9 team is new to Sheriff McCoy. It was my responsibility to go back to the evidence search, not his.”

  “If anything was left at the crime scene, the perp’s been back to get it by now.”

  “Sheriff McCoy left a deputy there to guard it overnight, until we could get a detective up there today.”

  “Aha. Good thinking.”

  Mattie gave her a sharp look at the note of sarcasm and then directed her attention back to the road, dodging potholes and steering carefully around hairpin turns.

  “Well, it is what it is,” LoSasso said. “We’ll just have to wait and see what we can get.”

  Robo paced back and forth in the back, sniffing out the windows as the car lurched up the pitted road. By the time they reached the two-track that led to the cabin, he seemed as eager as Mattie to get out of the patrol car.

  “Listen, I didn’t mean to come on so hard about the handling of the crime scene,” LoSasso said as they pulled up next to the yellow tape around the cabin. “It’s just a pet peeve of mine: cops mismanaging the scene before I get a chance to do my work.”

  Switching off the car engine, Mattie turned to face LoSasso directly. “We agree on that. And I admit I may have bungled things, but I’m learning. I don’t usually make the same mistake twice.”

  “Let’s start over,” LoSasso said, offering her hand. “I’m Detective Stella LoSasso. Call me Stella.”

  Mattie extended her hand as well, and the two women clasped hands firmly. “You can call me Mattie.”

  Stella removed her sunglasses and gave Mattie one of her measuring looks. “Let’s go get a better look at the cabin.”

  Mattie opened her car door and got out, noticing that Robo was dancing side to side on his front feet, eager to follow. “You wait here,” she told him.

  Robo’s perked ears fell, and his body slumped.

  As Stella exited the vehicle, she wore a smile that transformed her face, and their eyes met over the roof of the car. “I didn’t know dogs were so capable of pouting.”

  “He’s full of it every time I put the kibosh on something he wants to do.”

  “How do you resist it?”

  “It’s easy. If I give in to him once, he’ll test me for days. It’s just better to be consistent with him.”

  “Must be challenging.”

  “The rewards are worth it.”

  They had come up next to the taped-off area, and Deputy Cy Garcia stepped out of his cruiser to meet them, moving stiffly as though he’d been sitting for a long time. He was of Hispanic descent and built like a fireplug. He usually worked the night shift.

  “Things were quiet last night?” Mattie asked by way of greeting.

  “Yeah, not a thing happened.” He gave Stella a once-over.

  She extended her hand. “Detective LoSasso.”

  “Cy Garcia.” They shook hands, and he turned back to Mattie. “Are you here to relieve me?”

  “Not exactly, but Sheriff McCoy said to tell you to go on home. We’ll be here a while, and he’ll come up later to determine if we can let the scene go.”

  “Okay then, I’ll leave it to ya.” He got back into his vehicle and left.

  Stella turned to Mattie. “Do you want your dog to work this area before I go in?”

  “Yes. I’d like to do a sweep of the cabin first. Then I’ll have Robo do a grid search out here.”

  “Sounds like a plan. Maybe I’ll just take a look around back while you’re at it.”

  Robo was delighted to see Mattie coming back to the vehicle and greeted her with his usual exuberance. She prepared for the search as she had the day before and led him around the perimeter, ducking under the tape when she came to the cabin. He stayed close to her left side as they stepped up onto the plank porch and went inside the rough log building.

  Mattie paused at the threshold to allow her eyes to adjust to the dim light. “Sit,” she told Robo quietly.

  He sat at her left heel.

  She looked around the cabin, taking in log walls smattered with cobwebs, a plank table and chairs in the center of the room, and a bare metal frame with wire support for a bedroll against the far wall. She could see nothing that would endanger Robo, nor were there any suspicious-looking nooks and crannies that might be hiding a stash.

  She leaned down to pat him on the side. “Do you want to go to work?”

  He came to his feet, tail waving.

  “Okay,” she told him. “Find some dope.”

  Robo turned into a slinking, sniffing machine. With his ears pinned back, he shifted his nose first to the floor and then to the air as Mattie directed him around the edge of the room in a clockwise sweep. She made him take his time, holding his leash with her left hand while she directed the search area with her right, first asking him to sniff low and then high. Without any alerts, they made it back to their anchor point.

  Then she directed him in a sweep of the center of the room. Robo’s ears shot forward as he approached the table. Without warning, he leaped on top. To her relief, the table wobbled but bore up under his weight. He sat down on top of it, his indication that he’d found something. He looked at her expectantly and opened his mouth in a pant, his pink tongue drooping.

  “Good boy,” Mattie praised him, thumping his sides in a firm pat. She could see nothing but had no doubt that trace scent from the cocaine that had been bagged and forced down Belle’s throat the day before lingered on the table. Had the rest of Mike’s dogs gotten the same treatment? Was he using all the dogs as mules?

  Had he killed Grace?

  They finished up the room with no further alerts from Robo and then moved outside. She mentally marked out a grid on the ground in front of the cabin and asked Robo to search as she slowly led him back and forth. He quartered the area, sniffing from side to side. About halfway through, he stopped and nudged some dirt aside with his nose. He touched something with his mouth, sat, and looked at Mattie.

  Her adrenalin surged. Robo had been taught to touch with h
is mouth—but not disturb—anything outside of the environmental norm when searching for evidence.

  “Did you find something?”

  There, in the dirt, lay a spent brass casing, its golden glint evident in the sunlight, upturned from the dusting of earth that had concealed it from human eyes.

  Detective LoSasso came from around the cabin’s corner just as Mattie was raising her eyes from the casing in disbelief.

  “What?” Stella asked.

  “Robo found a brass cartridge case.”

  A look of intensity filled Stella’s face. “That’s one hell of a dog you’ve got there, Deputy.”

  Chapter 10

  Cole hit the speed dial on his cell phone for his home number, and Jessie answered. “How’s Angela doing now?” he asked.

  “She’s a little better. Pretty washed out, but she’s starting to keep liquids down, I think.”

  “I’ve called Tess to come in and help me with surgery on this dog. Its leg is swollen and cold this morning, and the bullet needs to come out. Can you hold down the fort a little longer?”

  There was a silence that stretched out for several seconds before Jessie answered. “I suppose so. I have no choice. But when are you going to tell Angela about her friend? You can’t keep it from her forever.”

  Cole groaned. “Come on, Jess, don’t bust my chops. I’m doing the best I can here.”

  “I’m just calling it the way I see it, and I’m seeing things more clearly now. I’m thinking your lack of involvement with your kids has something to do with your wife leaving.”

  Cole rubbed his forehead, trying to unwind the painful knot that was forming there. He heard Tess coming in the back door of the clinic. “I can’t talk right now. Tess just came in and we need to get this dog into surgery. I’ll come down to the house right after, okay?”

  “Where have I heard that before?”

  Cole gritted his teeth. Damn, this woman is impossible. “Good-bye, Jess.”

  “You need to be prepared to talk with Angela by the time you get home.”

  “Good-bye,” he said firmly, a grim feeling taking hold of him. He disconnected the call.

  For the love of Pete, Jessie was more tenacious than a pit bull.

  From the other room, Tess called out in a singsong, “Hi, hi!”

  Pulling himself back to the task at hand, Cole left the office and went into the surgery room where Tess was already getting out supplies and setting up the stainless steel surgical tray.

  “The sheriff is sending over a deputy to be here when we take out this bullet.” Cole had tried to reach Deputy Cobb, but she’d evidently left the office and couldn’t be reached. “He should be here any minute.”

  “Okay.”

  Cole went into the kennel room to get Belle. She lifted her head and regarded him with a stoic expression. He’d bathed her and run lab tests earlier this morning, and he thought she would tolerate the surgery. Her wound had been seeping during the night, so her blood volume was slightly low and she was still dehydrated. But he couldn’t wait any longer to remove the bullet; he didn’t want her to lose that leg if he could help it.

  When he led Belle into the surgery room, he saw that the deputy had arrived and he was standing back in the corner. He was a tall, lean kid who introduced himself as Deputy Johnson.

  “I asked him to stand back out of the way,” Tess said.

  “Do you want to stand by the table to watch?” Cole asked.

  “No, sir. This is okay over here. I just need to be present when you remove the evidence.”

  “All right. We’ll get started.”

  Cole pulled preanesthesia medicine into a syringe, and Tess held Belle still while he found a vein and injected her. After she slumped to the floor, they lifted her to the stainless steel surgery table. Out of the corner of his eye, Cole saw Johnson sway. The kid’s face was pale, his freckles standing out like tiny copper pennies.

  Good Lord, we’ve barely gotten started.

  “Sit down on the floor, Deputy. Bend over and lower your head between your knees,” Cole told him.

  Tess glanced at Johnson while he did as he was told but continued to help Cole position Belle on the table.

  “Tell you what. Don’t watch us at all. When I’m about to take out the bullet, I’ll tell you and you can look up,” Cole said.

  “Okay,” Johnson said, head lowered and voice muffled.

  Even though Tess had put on a surgical mask, Cole could read her smile in her eyes. He injected a small amount of barbiturate in Belle’s vein, placed a tube in her throat, and hooked her up to the anesthesia machine. He picked up the electric clipper and shaved the inside of her thigh over the area where he knew the bullet had lodged.

  Tess cleaned the surgical site while he moved to the sink to scrub. He took off his wedding ring to put in his pocket, pausing for a moment to examine it and wonder why he still bothered to wear it. After washing, he put on surgical gloves, the latex cuffs snapping into place. From the open surgical pack, he removed green draping to place over Belle’s leg. “I need you to stay on top of her pulse and oxygenation. She’s dehydrated, and I don’t want the anesthesia to put her too deep.”

  “You got it,” Tess said.

  “You okay, Deputy Johnson?” The kid remained sitting on the floor with his back to the wall, knees bent and head between his knees.

  “Doing great, Doc.” Head still down, voice still muffled.

  Cole shook his head slightly at Tess and then focused on his work. Planning his first incision, he glanced at the radiograph hanging in the light box. While his eyes found the bullet on the x-ray, his fingertips gently palpated the dog’s inner thigh, searching for the leaden lump.

  He made an incision through the skin and then dissected the glossy, opaque layer of fascia immediately below. He inspected the opening, looking for the thin white nerves and the dark red arteries and veins. He avoided slicing into the large thigh muscle as he dissected around it, going toward the bone.

  Once he’d cleared an opening, he probed the surgical wound with his finger and felt the hard lead bullet at the bottom.

  “Okay, Deputy, look here for a moment,” Cole said. Taking up a forceps, he used it to grasp the slug and pull it out.

  That’s when things headed south.

  The incision filled with blood and overflowed onto the surgical drape. Dropping the bullet and forceps into the pan that Tess held ready, Cole put his finger down into the hole, trying to staunch the flow that he realized now had been plugged somewhat by the leaden slug.

  “Sponges and a clamp. Now.”

  Tess was already moving. She peeled open a sterile packet of cotton gauze, holding it close for him to reach. Cole grabbed the cotton and started cleaning out the wound, but the blood was flowing faster than he could blot it. Tess kept opening packages while he tried to spot the bleeder at the bottom of the incision. It was like trying to see down into the bottom of a murky well.

  Using the index fingers of both hands, Cole spread the tissue enough to give him some space to work. Alternately blotting out blood and peering into the hole, he spied the end of the bleeding vessel. Grabbing up the clamp, he clipped it on and was relieved to see that it made a huge difference in the amount of blood flow.

  Tess had turned to monitoring Belle’s pulse. “Her heart stopped!”

  Cole could hear the panic in her voice. With the sudden drop in Belle’s blood volume, he knew the anesthesia had become too concentrated. “Stop the gas, leave the oxygen on, and start bagging her. I think it’ll start again once the gas dissipates.” Cole worked to tie off the bleeding vessel. “Do you have a pulse yet?”

  Using the stethoscope directly over Belle’s heart, Tess concentrated on listening. “Yes! Yes, her heart’s beating again.”

  “Keep bagging and increase the fluid drip. I’ve gotta get this incision closed ASAP so we don’t have to put her under again. Are you still with us, Deputy?”

  “Yeah, still here.” Johnson’s head was down
again, and he appeared to have no intention of looking back up.

  “Good man.”

  It took a few minutes for Cole to tie off some minor vessels that were bleeding. Then he worked to repair the internal damage left by the bullet and his surgical incision. Finally, he was able to suture the skin, setting a line of neat stitches across Belle’s thigh.

  During the process, Belle started breathing on her own. Tess was able stop monitoring her long enough to put the lead bullet into a baggie and send Deputy Johnson proudly on his way.

  By the time they could move Belle back to a cage to recover, her heart rate and breathing were stable. Now all they needed was a little time to see if they would be able to save the leg.

  As Tess gathered her things to leave, Cole decided to broach the subject of having the girls at the clinic while they worked. “I need a place for the kids this next week. Would it bother you if they stayed here?”

  “Not at all. They’re old enough to put to work. Angie could learn to run the computer, and Sophie will love to clean things.”

  Cole kind of liked the idea of his daughters having jobs. It would be good for them. “Thanks, Tess. I appreciate it.”

  Tess left, and Cole decided it was time to go tell the kids about Grace. He might as well get it over with.

  At the house, he found Sophie and Jessie in the kitchen cooking something on the stove.

  “Daddy!” Sophie ran across the room and thudded into his legs.

  “Hey, squirt,” he said. “What ya doin’?”

  “We’re making soup for lunch.” She skipped across the room to rejoin her aunt. “I’m stirring it.”

  “Sounds good,” he said.

  Jessie turned and gave him a tired—or was it sad?—smile. “I thought I’d make something that Angie might be able to eat. It’s just a light broth with a few vegetables. Thought I’d stay away from chicken.”

  “That’s a good idea,” he said. “Where is Angie?”

  Sophie piped up. “She’s in the living room watching a movie.”

  “Oh, maybe I’d better leave her be then.”

  “No,” Jessie said, “I think you’d better have that talk while you can.”