Stalking Ground

by Margaret Mizushima

  Velda heaved another sigh.

  “We have evidence that Adrienne was a victim of childhood abuse.”

  Velda’s eyes opened wide. “Are you accusing me of that?”

  “What do you know about it?” Stella asked.

  Tight lipped, Velda rubbed out the ember on her cigarette until she ground it down to the filter. “You need to leave.”

  Stella remained seated. “I think you know something.”

  Velda anchored her hands on the arms of her chair and tried to push herself to her feet. It took a couple tries, but she rose, swaying slightly. Mattie feared she might fall, so she stood and reached to steady her. Velda brushed her hand away. “Get out.”

  “Mrs. Howard, we need to determine if Adrienne’s abuser could be the one who killed her,” Mattie said, trying to reason with the woman.

  “I’ve said all I’m going to say.” Velda walked toward the door, drifting sideways like a ship with a broken sail.

  Mattie hurried to assist her, relieved when the woman allowed her to take her arm. “We’ll leave here in a minute, Mrs. Howard. Let me help you back to your chair.”

  Stella stood and hovered near to help if needed. “I suspect some things happened in the past that were out of your control—not your fault,” she said in a soothing voice.

  “You might show some respect.” Velda settled back in her recliner, wrapping her robe tightly, gathering her dignity. “For your information, Adrienne was a difficult child. She demanded a great deal of guidance.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Mattie murmured, picking up a ragged crocheted afghan from a chair and tucking it around the woman.

  Her temper appeased, Velda’s eyes drooped, looking as if a nap was imminent. “Spare the rod and spoil the child, her daddy used to say.”

  A chilly finger traced down Mattie’s spine as she stepped back. “Did your husband use the rod on Adrienne?”

  Velda’s eyes popped open, and she stared hard at Mattie. “None of your damn business.”

  Stella came forward. “We’ll leave now, Mrs. Howard. Thank you for your time.”

  Velda looked at Stella as if trying to remember who she was. “You come back and see me sometime, dear.”

  “Thank you,” Stella said. “Our condolences for your loss.”

  They stepped outside onto the porch. Mattie twisted the lock on the knob and tugged the door tight, despite its screech of protest.

  “I don’t think she gives a rat’s ass about her daughter’s death,” Stella muttered as they walked to the SUV.

  Robo’s head popped up inside the window. He looked sleepy but gave Mattie one of his toothy grins, soothing her uneasiness. She climbed inside, settled into the bucket seat, and turned to stroke Robo’s silky fur. He nosed her hand, encouraging her to stroke his face.

  Stella settled into the passenger seat beside her. “If Daddy was the abuser, he’s not around to be a suspect anymore.”

  “And if Mom was, she doesn’t look like she’s in any condition to be a threat to anyone but herself.”

  “Unless she took out a hit, but that theory has some holes in it. She might have the motive, but she lacks money and the brainpower for planning. That leads us to Roger Howard, the star discovery of our interview,” Stella said while she fastened her seat belt. “Brothers as perpetrators of abuse aren’t unheard of.”

  Mattie nodded and stared out the windshield, thinking while she left a hand on Robo’s back. Her mind had darted to her own brother, but she quickly brought it back to Adrienne’s case. “It appears that both Roger and Adrienne left home and never looked back,” she mused. “I think they were raised in an abusive environment with at least one alcoholic parent, maybe two.”

  Her uneasy stomach testified as to how much this type of childhood resonated with her. She could write a chapter in the book about alcoholic parents. She thought Adrienne could have, too.

  “Let’s see if we can find Roger Howard here in Colorado,” Mattie said as she started plugging Roger Howard’s name into her mobile data terminal. “I’ll see if he has a current driver’s license.”

  “Search for criminal records, too,” Stella said. She pulled a notebook from her briefcase and began writing in it. Presumably notes from the interview.

  A quick search through the Colorado DMV revealed four Roger Howards. The Colorado and National Crime Information Center databases revealed nothing.

  Mattie shared the news with Stella. “No criminal history, but four potential driver’s licenses.”

  Stella pursed her lips, absently tapping her notebook with her pen. “We’ll have to dig deeper back at the station.”

  “We should put Brody on it,” Mattie said. “He’s our expert on the net.”

  Stella shrugged. “We’ll see. I’m not so bad myself.”

  Mattie could tell Stella wasn’t going to bring Brody into the investigation until she was sure he should be there. “We also have the letter. Maybe your lab will pull a print from it.”

  “That would rock my world.”

  Chapter 17

  Back at the station, Stella went to use the computer in the office that the sheriff assigned to her. Robo followed Mattie to the staff office, seeking his dog cushion that she kept near her desk. He plopped down and sighed, and she knelt beside him to check his wound. It looked clean and there was no seepage.

  She stroked his head before moving to her chair. “You’re tired today, aren’t you? Getting attacked by a lion would set anyone back.”

  He put his head between his paws and his brow puckered and twitched.

  “You can go back to sleep. We’ll be here for a while.”

  Mattie worked on reports until Sam Corns came in to relieve Rainbow. Leaving her dog asleep on his bed, Mattie led Rainbow to one of the cold and sterile interrogation rooms. She pulled out a metal-frame chair with plastic upholstery to sit in, gesturing for Rainbow to take a seat on the other side of the table.

  Rainbow made a slight sound of dismay. “Am I a suspect?”

  “No, of course not. I just don’t want us to get interrupted,” Mattie said. “Do you want a cup of tea or something?” She knew Rainbow didn’t drink coffee.

  “No, nothing. I don’t know if I can help or not, but I’ve remembered some things this afternoon that might give you some leads.”

  “Sounds great. Tell me what you’ve remembered.”

  Rainbow paused, apparently collecting her thoughts. “Adrienne talked about a boyfriend in Willow Springs that she must have had a tough breakup with. I don’t think she ever said his last name, but if I remember right, she called him Jim.”

  “That’s good, Rainbow.” Mattie wrote the name in her notepad.

  “Adrienne never talked much about her past. She seemed to want to concentrate mostly on the here and now. She always said she wanted to live in the present moment and not dwell on the past or obsess about the future.”

  “What did she say about this man named Jim?”

  “I don’t think I can remember word for word.”

  “It’s okay to say it like you remember it. Don’t worry.”

  “Well . . . we were talking about old boyfriends, you know, girl talk.”

  Mattie nodded, though she’d never participated in such a thing.

  “Adrienne was mostly listening, and I was going on about a boyfriend I had when I was in massage school. I asked her to tell me about her last boyfriend, and she said, ‘Jim isn’t one I’d like to remember. Let’s just say it didn’t end well.’ Or something like that. At least that’s the gist of it.”

  “Did she give any details about how it ended?”

  “She said something about different expectations or goals or something. Adrienne didn’t really call it goals . . . maybe she said future plans.”

  “Did she talk about him being violent or rough, anything like that?”

  “No. That would have made an impression on me. It was more like they couldn’t agree about their future.”

  “Okay. I just wondered w
hy she said the relationship didn’t end well. Did you get any impressions about that?”

  “I think they were pretty close, you know. Then they realized they wanted different things in their future. I think it was painful but not violent, if you know what I mean.”

  “Yeah. Anything else you can tell me about Jim?”

  Rainbow shook her head.

  “Anything else that you’ve remembered?”

  “Yes. She worked for a chiropractor that owned his own business when she was in Willow Springs. I think she called him Scott.”

  “Great, Rainbow. We should be able to track that down. How many chiropractors named Scott can there be in Willow Springs?”

  “Right. I can follow up on that if you want me to.”

  “No, one of us should do it. Do you remember anything else about him? Were there any negative feelings when she left?”

  Rainbow shook her head. “Not that I know of. She never mentioned anything like that. She just said she learned a lot while she was working there.”

  “Do you know any other places that Adrienne worked? Places she lived?”

  “No. She only mentioned Willow Springs.”

  “Let’s switch focus for a minute,” Mattie said. “Did Adrienne ever talk about her family in Hightower?”

  “I knew she grew up there. She said both of her parents were alcoholics, and she didn’t want to talk about her childhood.”

  Mattie could relate to that. “Did she mention her brother?”

  “Yes. Roger. She said they were close, but he left her there alone when he graduated. It made her sad.”

  “Did she say where he moved to?”

  “Willow Springs. She said she met with him there before she moved here.”

  “That’s good. We should check in with him, too, and this could help us find him.”

  Rainbow’s reddened eyes crinkled slightly at the corners as she smiled briefly before resuming her sad expression. “I’m glad. I didn’t think her family had anything to do with this. She seemed to have cut ties with all of them.”

  “Even Roger?”

  “Yes. She said she loved her brother, but she didn’t want to be around him anymore.”

  “Why not?”

  “We didn’t really discuss it.” Rainbow’s brow puckered with concentration. “But I think I remember her saying something about her brother going off the deep end or something like that.”

  This lit Mattie’s radar. “Did she feel threatened by him?”

  Rainbow released a sigh of frustration as she searched her memory. “I don’t remember having that impression. It was more like a bad experience. Something to be avoided.”

  But still, it made Mattie wonder. She asked a few more questions but soon decided that she’d gleaned all that she could for now.

  “Let’s call it a day. You’ve been a lot of help, and if you remember anything else, let me know. You need to go home for the night. I know you’re tired.”

  “You look tired, too. I hope you can go home and get some sleep.”

  “I need to talk to Stella but then I’ll clock out.”

  They gave each other a quick hug before leaving the interrogation room. Mattie found Stella in her office getting ready to leave. She brought her up to speed, telling her about the boyfriend named Jim, the chiropractor named Scott, and the rather ominous bit about Roger Howard.

  Stella slipped on her coat. Looking thoughtful, she said, “This gives us more to consider. I have to observe that autopsy at eight in the morning. Can you follow up and try to locate the chiropractor? Maybe he’ll know something about Adrienne’s personal life and lead you to more information, maybe something about the ex-boyfriend or the brother.”

  “Will do.”

  “I have something else that will make your day,” Stella said. “The lab lifted a thumb print off the stamp on that letter. Not a real clear one, but it wasn’t too smudged.”

  “That’s great news.”

  “We’re running it through IAFIS now.”

  The Integrated Automated Fingerprint Identification System could find a match if the subject was already in the system. If a print was distorted, it often came back with several similar prints that a technician would then compare with the original. So even though this system didn’t always get a hit, it promised the possibility of some movement in the case.

  “You’re right. Day made,” Mattie said.

  Stella smiled in a grim way. “It’s late and I’m going home now. I hope to be here tomorrow by eleven.”

  “I’ll see you then. Maybe I’ll have some leads in Willow Springs by the time you get back.”

  After saying good-bye, Mattie went to the staff office to get Robo. As he stood up and stretched, he yawned until his throat squeaked, making her yawn with him. Dead on her feet, she clocked out and headed home.

  Chapter 18

  Mattie had settled into bed with a book, thinking she would distract herself from the events of the past few days and relax, when her cell phone rang. Caller ID told her it was an unfamiliar number, even an unfamiliar area code. She answered it.

  “This is Deputy Cobb.”

  “That sounds pretty damn official.” It was a man’s voice, also unfamiliar. “Last time we talked, it was just plain old Mattie Lu.”

  Her heart stumbled and then kicked into overdrive. “Who is this?”

  “Your big brother. Weren’t you expecting me to call?”

  His voice was so deep, grown up. “Willie—hey. I’ve been hoping you’d call for weeks. You surprised me.”

  “Sorry about that. Took a while to get up the nerve.” He cleared his throat. “I was glad to hear you were willing to talk.”

  A lump in her own throat kept her from responding. She nodded, holding the phone clamped to her ear.

  “How are you?” Her brother’s voice was rough and throaty, like a two-pack-a-day smoker.

  “I’m good. How are you, Willie?”

  “I’m okay. Better than I was a few months ago.”

  “Were you sick?”

  “We can talk about that later. I want to know about you. What’s your life like? Teresa says you’re a deputy in the sheriff’s department.”

  “Yeah. Seven years. You live in Los Angeles?”

  “Yeah, in Hollywood actually. I’m a mechanic in a garage near Sunset Boulevard.”

  “Wow, sounds fancy.”

  Willie gave a little laugh. “There’s lots of places in Hollywood that aren’t all that fancy. But it’s good enough for me.”

  “Do you like your job?”

  “It’s steady work and it occupies my days, sometimes my nights. I need it that way. So you stayed in Timber Creek? I can’t hardly believe that.”

  It felt like a hand was tightening around Mattie’s throat, choking her. “Yeah, well . . .”

  “How are you doing, Mattie Lu? You’re not married?”

  “No.”

  “Got someone special?”

  “No. How about you?”

  “I met a girl a few months ago. We’re pretty serious. She’s changing my life.”

  “Oh, yeah?”

  “Yeah.” That little laugh again. “She must see something in me. She’s helping me put things back together.”

  That meant things must’ve fallen apart before. “Have you had a bad time of it?”

  “You might say so. How’s everything with you?”

  Mattie focused hard on not choking up. “Pretty good. I like my work. I’m doing K-9 now, that’s something new.”

  “Do you have one of those big, badass dogs?”

  Mattie looked at Robo lying patiently on his own bed watching her. His ears pricked and his mouth opened slightly in a pant. She’d learned that his mouth seemed to be the barometer for his stress level. He must be picking up on her anxiety at the moment. “Robo’s a pussycat most of the time. Unless I tell him to be otherwise.”

  Robo cocked his head at her when he heard his name.

  “Otherwise, he’s a badass.”


  “You got that right.” Mattie smiled, her lips close to the phone.

  “Seems strange, my little sis ordering around bad guys, siccing a real police dog on ’em.”

  “It’s mostly patrol and narcotics detection, some public-relations work. Here in Timber Creek, there’s very little action like you see on that Cops TV show.”

  “I guess it’s really not so hard to imagine you as a cop after all.”

  An awkward silence followed. Was he thinking about that night, about her phone call, the one she made that broke up their family? To divert the subject, she asked, “What’s your girlfriend’s name?”

  “Tamara.”

  “What does she do?”

  “Well, here’s the deal. She works in the kitchen of a drug rehab center. That’s where we met.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah . . . Oh?” Willie seemed to be teasing her. “I was there by court order. My last chance to clean up my act.”

  “I hope it’s working for you.”

  “Seems to be. Every day’s a struggle. I’m working the twelve steps.”

  Now it all became clear. His twelve-step program dictated contacting his sister. He had to make amends or at least try. She told herself it was silly to feel disappointed; no matter what made him call, she’d take it.

  “Yeah, she has a kid, a four-year-old boy,” Willie said. “She says I’ve got to be a good role model for him, though God knows my own was a real fuck-up. So I just ask myself, what would my old man do? Then I do the opposite.”

  “That would make for a pretty good start.”

  “Do you ever see the old man?” Willie asked.

  “No one told you?”

  “What?”

  “He died while he was in prison. One of the other inmates killed him.”

  The line went silent. “I can’t say I’m sorry,” he said after a long pause.

  She didn’t know how to respond.

  “Hell, Mattie—what makes you stay in Timber Creek? It can’t have anything but bad memories.”

  Mattie placed her hand on the base of her throat. Finally, she managed to speak. “I stayed here so you or Mom could find me—if you wanted to.”