Killing Trail: A Timber Creek K-9 Mystery

by Margaret Mizushima

  Mattie resumed her jog with Walker falling in beside her. His pace was quite a bit slower than hers, but she felt odd running off and leaving him. Before she could decide what to do, he initiated conversation.

  “Do you run at night very often?”

  “No, I run in the mornings. How about you?”

  “Haven’t done this for a long time.” He puffed for a few moments. “Should do me some good, if it doesn’t kill me.”

  That decides it, Mattie thought. She had to stick with him until she could escort him safely to the top of his lane.

  “Seems impossible,” Walker said, his short breath making him speak in bursts. “Danger in Timber Creek.”

  “Timber Creek has always had its pockets of danger for some.” Didn’t she know from experience? “These homicides just make it more obvious to the general public.”

  “I guess . . . you see . . . the bad side.”

  Mattie slowed even more so the vet could catch his breath. With a grim tone, she said, “I’ve lived the bad side.”

  He paused. Then after a few more strides: “I saw you run once . . . at the high school. My last year of vet school, home on break. You were good.”

  “Running reformed me. I was raised in foster care, had a chip on my shoulder. But that’s behind me now.”

  “Yeah.” He paused a few beats. “What’s past is past. Or should be.”

  They continued on, the darkness feeling intimate as they ran side by side, accompanied by the rhythm of their tennis shoes on the pavement, the puffing of Walker’s breath, and the jingling of Robo’s tags. Every now and then, Robo would sniff the air and make a huffing sound in his chest. He continuously checked behind him, giving Mattie sort of a hinky feeling. She wondered what was out there that caused him to act so worked up.

  They stopped at the lane that led to Walker’s house. Mattie opened her mouth to say good-bye, but he spoke before she could.

  “One minute.” He leaned against his mailbox, taking in huge breaths of air, his lungs sounding like a bellows. “I’ve got a question.”

  Mattie waited for him to catch his breath.

  “It’s just the kids and me at home nowadays,” he said when he could talk again. “I’ve told them that if I have to leave the house at night on an emergency, I’ll leave them a note. They can call me on my cell if they wake up. The doors are locked, and we have Belle inside. Do you think that plan is safe enough?”

  “You have Belle back? Did she take a turn for the worse?”

  “No, Garrett and Leslie couldn’t stand watching her pine for Grace. They gave her to the kids.”

  The news filled her with joy. “I’m glad. They seem to love her.”

  “They do. They’re pretty sad themselves now. I hope this will help them feel better. Although I kind of doubt if it will make up for everything.”

  “It’s a hard thing for you all, losing Grace.”

  “Yeah, it is. So do you think they’re safe if I leave them home alone for a few hours when I get called out?”

  “Yes, I think citizens are still safe in their homes.”

  “What you said earlier, about how running reformed you. It looks like you turned your life around and made something good out of a bad situation.” He paused, apparently taking time to choose his words. “I hope I can help my kids make the right choices. They’re faced with more challenges than I was at their age.”

  “You have a strong relationship with your kids. That was something I never had with my father.”

  “Yeah, well, it may look that way. But to tell the truth, I haven’t been around much in their lives.”

  Mattie sensed the vet had more on his mind.

  “I got word that my divorce is final last week, and it hit me pretty hard.”

  Christ! She wished she’d never entered into a personal conversation. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “I’m trying to sort out how much supervision my kids need so I know what kind of help to arrange.”

  “I wouldn’t know how to advise you.”

  “No, that’s not what I’m asking you. I guess I just wanted your opinion on how safe this community is now.”

  Mattie could handle a cop question. “That’s hard to say. Even a year ago, I would’ve said we didn’t have a drug problem in Timber Creek. But as you know, things changed real fast. We believe we can stop the drug traffic through our town, but now here’s this thing with Grace. Do I think parents should be concerned? Yes, I do. But do I think Timber Creek is a dangerous place to raise kids? Not any worse than any other place in the state and still a lot safer than most.”

  Mattie leaned down to brush her fingertips across Robo’s head. He’d settled down and sat quietly at her feet, panting lightly.

  “Can I drive you back home, Deputy Cobb? I hate for you to be out running alone this time of night.”

  “Don’t worry, I can take care of myself. And call me Mattie. It’s simpler.”

  He extended his hand, and it warmed hers when she took it. “And I’m Cole. Thanks for the advice, and thanks for being there for the kids today when Belle left. Like I said before, I appreciate the way you interact with Angie. I believe she trusts you.”

  Flustered, Mattie withdrew her hand. She started to leave but then paused to say one last thing. “Don’t worry so much about your kids. The fact that you’re a part of their lives and you care so much will go a long way. It’s a lot more than I ever had.”

  “Well, sometimes you have to ask yourself, is loving them enough? Sometimes things happen that make you wonder.” His voice sounded wistful.

  Feeling warmer than her night’s exercise warranted, Mattie made a sound of acknowledgement, said good-bye, and headed back home. She felt all mixed up about her feelings toward the vet, so she turned her thoughts to subjects she was more comfortable with: drug traffic and murder. She planned to check on Brody again as she returned home.

  After running along the curve that led into town, she approached his house and slowed to a jog. His outside light had been turned off and the main level of the house darkened. The moon provided enough light to see a dark SUV parked now behind his cruiser. Was it the same one that had passed her on the highway earlier? The shape was similar. Without thinking it through, she stopped and led Robo to the spruce trees that towered beside Brody’s driveway. Slipping sideways between two of them and getting pricked by the sharp needles, she stilled her breath to listen. All she could hear was Robo panting a few feet away where he’d stopped, being smart enough not to follow her into the prickly spruce.

  One dim light lit an upstairs window, covered by a curtain. Even as she glanced upward at it, a shadowy silhouette appeared, its shape nipped in at the waist. Arms came up in the easily recognized movement of a woman taking off a bra. Feeling like a Peeping Tom, she realized that Brody must have a girlfriend up there. Two thoughts occurred almost simultaneously: Could this woman be part of the drug ring? And who the hell would want Brody?

  Moonlight illuminated the white letters on the Colorado license plate, and she made a mental note of it. She could tell that the vehicle was a Ford but still couldn’t determine the model.

  Again without giving it too much thought, because if she got caught it would be disastrous, she decided to ask Robo to do a quick sweep of the vehicle’s exterior. His mouth was probably dry after his run, which impaired his scenting ability to some degree, but it couldn’t be helped. She needed to move quickly while Brody was still occupied in the bedroom.

  Moving out of the trees, she led Robo to the back of the SUV and whispered, “Search.”

  He looked up at her as if puzzled. She realized she hadn’t prepared him by putting on his working collar or jazzing him up about going to work. Thinking that maybe this was a bad idea and not wanting to mess with his training, she decided to give it up. But at that moment, Robo began to sniff. He completed the sweep with his standard mode of operation but didn’t indicate any detection of narcotics.

  The light in the house went o
ff suddenly, startling Mattie, and she broke away from the vehicle, leading Robo along with her, praising and patting him as she went. Okay, so the vehicle appeared to be clean on the outside, but that really didn’t tell her much. And it certainly didn’t tell her enough to justify the risk she’d just taken.

  It was time to call it a night and get to bed. Doubt nipped at her heels while she ran. Maybe her suspicion of Brody was unwarranted. Maybe her attraction to the vet was silly. Maybe the lack of sleep this weekend was starting to make her go batshit crazy.

  Chapter 22

  Monday

  Somewhere, muffled under the downy veil of sleep, Mattie heard the phone ringing. She cracked open one eye and glanced at the clock. A quarter to six.

  Sonofabitch. The answering machine could field this one. She pulled the quilt over her head and nestled under it.

  Robo nudged her arm.

  Without moving, she muttered, “Go back to bed.”

  She heard the click of his toenails as he walked back to his cushion. She heard him heave a sigh, signaling he’d finished circling and had lain down. She imagined the stoic expression he’d have on his face. She wondered if he needed to go outside to pee. She peeked out from under the cover.

  Robo instantly raised his head, ears pricked, staring at her hard.

  “Oh, all right!” Mattie threw back the cover and got out of bed. She made her way through the living room and kitchen to the back door, Robo gamboling alongside. Once out in the yard, he headed for the tree, sniffing the air and the grass. Then he circled the area, apparently checking things out.

  She stood on the porch watching him, afraid to leave him alone for fear someone had planted something in the yard again. Wearing only the long T-shirt and boxers she’d slept in, she shivered and wrapped her arms around herself, goose bumps rising on her arms.

  Robo huffed several times, sniffing the breeze and standing at the chain link against the north side, his posture that of the alert guard dog. He circled the perimeter again and then finally went back to the tree to relieve himself.

  “It’s about time. Come back inside now.”

  She held the door while Robo trotted through. He immediately went to his food bowl, looking up at her, evidently having decided it was time for breakfast. When she’d finally gone to bed last night, Mattie had decided to skip their morning run and sleep in. So much for plans.

  After giving Robo his food, she checked caller ID and saw that her early morning wake-up call had come from Mama T. She dialed voice mail and listened to the message: “Mattie? I want you to come to breakfast, mijita. I have something to tell you. Call me.”

  Even as she listened, Mattie could hear the call-waiting beep that signaled another call coming in. Quickly, she pressed the flash button to take the call.

  “Mattie? This is your Mama T.”

  “Good morning. What has you up so early?”

  “Ha! The sun can’t catch me sleeping.”

  “No, I guess not. I just got your message.”

  “Come over.”

  “I don’t have much time, Mama.”

  “I made your favorite—breakfast burrito.”

  Mattie could smell it: scrambled eggs with green chili peppers, chorizo, and a homemade tortilla. Instantly, her mouth watered.

  “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

  Robo had already scarfed down his breakfast, so he followed Mattie into the bathroom and watched her wash her face and brush her teeth. Then he padded after her to the bedroom to lie down and watch her dress.

  “What are you, some kind of a watch dog?”

  Robo sighed, putting his head down on his front paws.

  “Yeah, it’s a tough life, bubba.”

  Going back to the bathroom, she dampened her hair and slicked back the sides to tuck behind her ears. She grabbed Robo’s leash from its hook by the door but let him run free while going out to the vehicle. He loaded into the back compartment, eager to embrace a new day. Lack of sleep didn’t seem to be a problem for Robo.

  Mattie knew the kids would still be asleep this early in the day, and she would have her foster-mother all to herself. She could smell delicious odors coming from the kitchen as she approached its door. And from the amount of food she saw cooking on the stove after stepping into the room, it appeared as if Mama had been out of bed for quite some time already.

  “Will you have coffee?” Mama T gestured toward the white-spotted blue porcelain pot on the stovetop.

  “Sure. Can I pour you a cup?”

  “Si, gracias. I’ll fix you a plate.”

  Mattie poured black coffee into thick, white crockery mugs, appreciating its heady scent.

  Mama set a plate holding a monster burrito smothered with shredded pork and green chili in front of Mattie on a wooden table that had seen its share of meals. Mattie scooted up a chair, eager to taste it. “Will you eat with me?”

  “Sure.”

  She waited until Mama had filled her own plate and sat down across from her. Mama bowed her head and murmured a blessing in Spanish. Mattie bowed her head, too, but remained silent.

  “Now, dig in,” Mama said.

  The first bite was heaven. “Mama, you said you had something to tell me.”

  “Eat first, then talk.”

  They ate in silence, savoring the spicy food. Mama T rose from her chair at the end of the meal to refill their coffee cups. After settling herself back in her seat, she folded her hands on the table and said, “Now I will tell you.”

  Sensing the gravity in Mama’s manner, Mattie experienced a sinking feeling. “What is it? Is something wrong?”

  “No, no. Do not worry, mijita. I have news that will surprise you, that’s all.”

  Usually, being called mijita warmed Mattie, but this time she was afraid the endearment meant to cushion a blow, and it only served to enhance the sense of dread that was slowly starting to blossom in the pit of her stomach. Mattie waited while Mama seemed to be organizing her words.

  “Your brother called.”

  Or maybe she had just paused for effect. Hard to say, because Mattie suddenly felt herself reeling. She hadn’t heard from her brother since grade school. He’d been one of those incorrigible kids the county had found hard to place, and he’d never received the benefit of living with Mama T.

  “Why would he call you? He never lived here.”

  “No.” Sadness creased Mama’s face. “My home was full when he needed me. He was sent out of town. You know this. I was lucky I had an opening later so I could take you in.”

  “Why did he call?”

  “He wanted me to ask you a question. He knew you lived here once.”

  “A question?” Why wouldn’t her brother just call her directly?

  “He said he’s kept track of you, but he doesn’t know if you want to talk to him. He doesn’t want to bother you with a call if you don’t want it. He says he would understand if you didn’t want to talk to him.”

  Mattie was speechless. She’d always hoped she would hear from her brother, but she thought that he was the one who didn’t want to talk to her. What would make him call after all these years?

  “He said to ask you if you want him to call you.”

  “Did he leave a number?”

  “No, he will call me again later to find out what you say.”

  Mattie glanced at the old-fashioned, rotary-dial phone hanging on the kitchen wall. No star key, no caller ID. “Did he say where he’s living?”

  “California. Los An-gel-eees.”

  “Oh my gosh,” Mattie whispered. She looked down at her empty plate, trying to focus her thoughts.

  Willie always took the heat; he bore the punches. Mattie was the good girl; she called the police. What would she say after all this time? What would he?

  “Let him call you,” Mama said, as if she sensed Mattie’s trepidation.

  Mattie looked at her with watery eyes. “Of course, Mama. Please tell him to call me. Thank you for this.”

  �
��My pleasure, mijita.” She pushed back her chair. “I want a full report after you’ve talked to him. Now, I got to get back to work. Laundry day.”

  Mattie hugged Mama T good-bye and then went outside to the car and Robo. He rose from lying on his platform, a sleepy look on his face. He yawned and slowly wagged his tail, his usual exuberance dampened.

  “Lazy dog.” Mattie ruffled the black fur at his throat. For a few heartbeats, with her arm sticking through the heavy gauge wire mesh, she held onto him, staring at nothing, seeing Willie’s childish face in her mind: thin features, their mother’s Spanish ancestry showing in his brown hair and dark-tan skin like hers, troubled brown eyes almost black with torment.

  The last time she’d seen him, they were on the playground at school; she was eight, and he was ten. Earlier in the school year, he’d been removed from the foster home that they’d been living in together—a home out in the country—after he’d set fire to the haystack. Willie wouldn’t tell her why he’d done it; maybe he didn’t know himself. After that incident, the only time they got to see each other was at school. He was telling her that their social worker was sending him to another family in Colorado Springs.

  “Why, Willie?” she’d asked, her heart beating like a sparrow’s wing.

  “Because I’m trouble.” Willie’s face went dark with anger. “And because Dad’s in prison, and Mom doesn’t want us anymore.”

  The rest was a blur. She’d been sick to her stomach; she spent the rest of the day in the nurse’s office, lying on a cot in a tight little ball, knowing it was all her fault.

  As she started the engine, her thoughts in turmoil, Mattie checked the time. She had fifteen minutes to get to work—no time to drive home and digest this new information.

  “Damn,” she muttered, steering the cruiser out into the street and setting a course for the office.

  *

  As she pulled into the parking lot, Stella LoSasso was getting out of her Honda. Dressed in a formfitting, gray pantsuit with her honey-highlighted hair pulled up to her crown and anchored by combs, Stella looked the perfect mix of professional and sexy. She stood by her vehicle, waiting for Mattie and Robo to come up to her.