Burning Ridge

by Margaret Mizushima

  “Don’t worry about me, Ken. I’m prepared to stay up here as long as you need me.”

  “Appreciate it.” Brody picked up his rifle, shouldered it, and put his eye to the scope. He raised it high and used the telescopic lens to scan the ridge and crags surrounding the area. “What do you think about eyes watching us out there?”

  “Hard to say. I haven’t felt it, but I wouldn’t discount it either. It might not necessarily be a human. Maybe an animal … a cougar or another predator.”

  “The more Cobb works with that dog, the more she seems to sense things. You got a set of binoculars?”

  “I do. I’ll go get them.”

  Cole crossed the stepping-stones and headed downhill on the trail. The horses were tethered fifty yards away and about halfway there, he found Mattie and Robo. The large dog was scampering after the tennis ball like a puppy, taking it back to Mattie with a jaunty wave of his tail.

  “I’m headed to the horses to get binoculars. You want me to bring you anything?”

  She was opening her mouth to answer when a sharp crack echoed from a distance, coming from the direction of the meadow. Mattie whirled to look, but forest and slopes hid the meadow and the lower part of Redstone Ridge from view. “Rifle shot?”

  “Sounds like it.”

  Brody came running down the trail behind them, holding his rifle ready. “You two okay?”

  “It came from farther away.” Mattie pointed toward Redstone Ridge. “From over there, I think.”

  They took off toward the horses, Mattie and Robo outdistancing Cole and Brody. Handler and dog didn’t ease up when they reached the horses, but kept running down the trail toward the meadow. Cole knew he couldn’t keep up on foot, so he snatched the ends of Duke’s reins and jerked the slipknot free from the branch they’d been tied to. He swung into the saddle with one smooth vault. Brody opted to go horseback as well, slinging his rifle onto his back and mounting up quickly. They headed after Mattie.

  Cole nudged Duke into a fast trot, cantering when the rocky trail allowed. As the trail dipped and rose, circling around boulders, trees, and other obstacles, he caught glimpses of Mattie ahead. They were catching up to her.

  “Cobb, wait up,” Brody shouted when they drew close enough for her to hear.

  She slowed and looked behind her. Robo dashed on ahead.

  “Don’t enter the meadow alone,” Brody called.

  “I won’t,” she yelled back before turning and following Robo.

  With his heartbeat thudding at his throat, Cole hoped she would slow down and stay back, but he knew she wouldn’t. It wasn’t in her nature. K-9 handlers were injured on the job at a higher percentage than regular officers. The very nature of their work—following their partners out front while they chased the bad guys—made them particularly vulnerable to ambush and sniper shots. He hated that about her job.

  The trees thinned and when they came to the edge of the meadow, Mattie and Robo were waiting.

  “See anything?” Brody said as they came to a stop.

  Mattie was scanning the tree line on the other side of the large, empty meadow. “Not yet.”

  Cole removed his binoculars from their pouch and focused in on the ridge. He scanned back and forth, noting the sheep had all disappeared. A flash of scarlet on a patch of green shale caught his eye.

  He homed in on the bright color and found its source. A sheep carcass, lying in a heap, halfway down the slope. Fresh kill. The carcass bore a scar on its shoulder that Cole recognized.

  He handed the binoculars to Brody. “Dead mountain sheep, halfway up the ridge at two o’clock. It looks like the old ram with the full curl that I saw this morning.”

  Brody passed the binoculars to Mattie, and she focused on the dead ram. “I might be able to climb up to where it is. Maybe Robo could get a scent of the person who killed it and follow.”

  Brody wore a grim expression. “Not within our purview. The gravesite is our top priority. Let Ed Lovejoy handle this when he comes back.”

  Mattie gave the binoculars to Cole and looked at Brody. “Strange coincidence. You have to wonder if this shooter had something to do with our dead guy back there.”

  Cole zoomed in on the carcass again. Shale and slide rock littered the area below it, creating hazardous footing. A more suitable pathway lay farther below, and as he followed it downward with the lenses, he figured the shooter could have used it to descend from the cliff face and disappear into the forest. He told the others what he was thinking. “We might be able to pick up a scent on that trail.”

  “I doubt if we can climb that shale to get to the ram, but if we go up partway, we might be able to see where the shooter is, or at least where he’s headed,” Mattie said.

  Brody thought about it. “All right, see what you can find. One of us needs to go back to the gravesite and make sure this isn’t some ruse to lead us away from it.”

  “I’ll go with Mattie,” Cole said. “You can keep watch.”

  Brody nodded.

  “Robo, heel.” Mattie jogged off with Robo at heel, skirting the edge of the meadow, avoiding the soggy middle.

  Cole followed, keeping Duke at a trot in order to stay up with them. It took the better part of a quarter hour to make it to the other side. Mattie led them to the grove of pine where Tucker York had been earlier. Cole followed her to the base of the rocky, steep slope and dismounted, taking his binoculars with him.

  “Let’s climb here.” Mattie headed uphill with Robo, leaving Cole to keep up as best he could. His slick soled cowboy boots were ill designed for this activity, while the rugged boots on Mattie’s feet that concerned him earlier now gave her an edge.

  By the time they’d worked their way up about a hundred yards, he was drenched with sweat and puffing hard. Relieved, he saw that Mattie had stopped, and as he climbed toward her, he could hear her heaving for air, too.

  She leaned against a pile of boulders, using it to brace herself against the slope’s steep angle. At this vantage point, she held one hand above her eyes, shielding them from the penetrating angle of the lowering sun’s glare, and scanned the meadow and forest below. Cole handed her the binoculars.

  “Thanks,” she said, raising them to her eyes. She adjusted the focus and continued scanning the area. Cole searched with bare eyes but turned to watch her face when he heard her breath catch. She caught her lower lip between her teeth as she focused and rescanned, the binoculars trained in a direction that appeared to be the meadow.

  “Take a look, Cole,” she said, handing him the glasses. “The far edge of the meadow, about one o’clock. What do you see?”

  He expected to see a human and was surprised that she was directing him back toward the area from which they’d come. Had they missed something when they’d rushed through there a half hour ago?

  He swept the edge of the meadow, focusing on the ground. And then he saw it—the pattern she must be asking him to confirm. “Ovals at the edge of the trees. Depressions in the soil filled with darker grass. Is that what you see?”

  She nodded, and her face was grim. “What does that make you think of?”

  “Something buried. Other graves?”

  “Let’s take note of where the irregularities are and get a closer look when we go down.” She scanned the area between the dead ram and their position. “I don’t think the shooter came up this far. We would have spotted him before he could get down.”

  “Maybe he took a shot from the pine down below.”

  She absently rubbed Robo’s ears while he leaned against her. “Let’s go back, and I’ll see if Robo can pick up a scent.”

  Cole focused the binoculars on the ram and then swept them upward toward the crags where he’d seen the sheep earlier. At this shorter distance, he thought he could see a trail leading away from the ledge. “I think the guy could have been on top when he shot that ram.”

  Mattie took the binoculars and focused on the cliff where Cole was pointing.

  “I think he could h
ave come over from the back side of the ridge. And escaped that way, too,” Cole said.

  “What’s on the other side?”

  “Nothing but wilderness. Lots of game trails. It’s easier to get up on top from that side rather than trying to climb up this cliff face here.”

  “How long would it take for us to get around to the back side?”

  “At least a couple hours. We’d have to ride down to the fork in the trail and go around. And we’re almost out of daylight.”

  Mattie frowned with disappointment. “I’ll see if Robo can pick up a scent down at the base of the ridge, but I think you’re right about our shooter being up on top.”

  “I’ll contact Ed Lovejoy about this when we get back to town,” Cole said, pausing to think. “If I can come back up tomorrow, I’ll ride to the backside of the ridge and try to get to that ram so I can post him. See if I can retrieve a slug from his carcass. I’m not sure how much help that will be, but it’s the best I can do for the poor fella now.”

  NINE

  Mattie was tired enough that she felt grateful to have the gentle giant, Mountaineer, carry her down the trail. Four posse members had arrived, all rigged out for the night, which eased her mind about leaving Brody at the gravesite.

  There’d been nothing to see on the other side of the meadow except for a few ground depressions, which Cole thought might have been made by elk bedding down. If she hadn’t viewed the area from up above, she wouldn’t have even noticed them. Still, she couldn’t dismiss them and thought they warranted further investigation when the team arrived to excavate the gravesite.

  She and Cole rode home in shadow. The sun set early behind the mountain peaks in the high country, but its subdued light still spread throughout the sky. The chill evening breeze lifted her jacket, generating a shiver, and she released one hand from the saddle horn to tug it closed.

  Cole rode ahead. When they neared the bottom part of the trail and the steepness of the grade lessened, he turned, balancing halfway in the saddle on one hip. “Come over and grab a bite to eat at our house. The kids were hoping to see you.”

  It would be good to visit with the girls, and see how they were doing after their terrible experience this morning. “Do you think it’s okay without asking Mrs. Gibbs first? I mean, she’s the one doing the cooking.”

  “She was expecting you to come before all this happened. Besides, you should know she doesn’t care when you show up. She’s always glad to see you.”

  “All right, but I have to go home and clean up first.”

  And get rid of the stench of death.

  “Sounds good. I have to do the same thing.”

  With Cole riding sideways, they gazed at each other a moment. “I worried about you today, Mattie,” he said. “It’s made me realize how dangerous your work is.”

  His words surprised her. “I wasn’t in any danger today. Not real danger anyway.”

  “The threat is still there … in just about everything you and Robo do.”

  “It’s the nature of the job. But maybe no more so than when you work on these big horses.”

  Cole looked skeptical. “Can’t recall a horse ever taking a shot at me.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  He shook his head, giving her a look as he turned in the saddle, returning to his seat while his horse started down a rough patch on the trail. As they approached the trailhead and civilization, her cell phone came alive in her pocket, signaling voicemails and texts. Her messages would have to wait until she was sitting inside the safety of her SUV, because there was no way she could free up her hands to check them now.

  Cole didn’t seem to have that problem. He’d fished his phone from his pocket and checked messages while he rode. “Here’s a text from Mrs. Gibbs,” he said, turning his head to speak over his shoulder. “ ‘Tell Miss Mattie to come to dinner when she gets down from the mountain. We have plenty of food.’ There, that takes care of that.”

  “It does.”

  Mrs. Gibbs was a gem, an Irish lady in her sixties who loved Cole’s daughters, cooking, and—believe it or not—house cleaning. As the Walkers’ housekeeper, she seemed to have taken over the much-needed role of mothering Sophie and Angela without overstepping boundaries set by their father, and much to Mattie’s surprise, Mrs. Gibbs even seemed to be extending that mothering role to include her.

  And it felt good.

  They reached the end of the trail and rode into the parking lot, Cole leading her toward his trailer where Stella and the sheriff had tied their horses.

  Cole dismounted and hurried to help Mattie. After she slipped from the saddle, he turned her so that she was facing him, and he held her close. “I know you’re perfectly capable of handling yourself on the job,” he said. “I worry about you because I care.”

  Mattie melted into the warmth of his embrace, savoring it. He’d begun to show that he cared in many ways—the depth of his gaze, his touch, low-toned quips meant only for her that made her laugh. She could feel herself beginning to respond as she opened to the idea of loving him, and she desperately wanted to trust that he would love her in return.

  One more squeeze, and then he released her to take Mountaineer’s reins. “You did a great job on your first trail ride today. You looked more relaxed when we were coming down.”

  Mattie couldn’t think of a way to reply. She’d recently become an expert at projecting relaxation in the face of anxiety.

  Cole unhooked the trailer’s back gate and began loading the horses. “I’ll have to unsaddle and feed these guys and get them set up for the night, so you don’t have to rush to get over to the house. Maybe shoot for an hour after we get back to town?”

  “Sounds good.”

  As she walked toward the Explorer, Mattie stretched her sore legs. She loaded Robo into his compartment and then stifled a groan as she grabbed the steering wheel to pull herself up into the driver’s seat. Cole waved as he steered his rig out of the parking lot and drove away.

  She noticed a call from Riley and several missed calls from an unknown number. She dialed into voice messaging. Riley’s message came up first, saying hello and asking where she was. Mattie frowned, realizing the girl’s father must be working again, even though it was Sunday. She needed to find a place for Riley to hang out, because obviously, she herself couldn’t be counted on as a reliable companion for the teen.

  The second message, left by an unfamiliar female voice, came as a surprise. “Hey … uh … Deputy Cobb? Mattie? This is Tamara Bennett. I’m your brother’s friend. Could you call me back as soon as you can? I need to talk to you.” She left a number, which matched the calls from the unknown number listed in her call log. Evidently she’d tried to reach Mattie several times that day.

  Thinking it strange to hear from Willie’s girlfriend, Mattie went ahead and checked her text messages. She recognized Tamara Bennett’s name from listening to her brother. He was crazy about her. But Tamara had sounded stressed in her message, and Mattie guessed that she wasn’t making a social call. Tamara wanted to talk to her about something gone wrong. And when you made the choice to live with an addict, that something was most likely him falling off the wagon.

  Damn it. She didn’t feel prepared to deal with addiction issues. All she wanted was to reconnect with her brother and see if they could establish some type of relationship. That’s it.

  Pulling out of the parking lot, she mulled things over and decided to return Tamara’s call after she checked in with Stella.

  The detective answered on the first ring. “Are you back in town, Mattie?”

  “On my way.”

  “Things are going well here. I reached a CBI agent and he’s pulling together a team of specialists to bring with him, a forensic anthropologist and assistants. They’ll arrive later tonight. I reserved rooms at the Big Sky Motel, and they’ll be ready to roll out of here with us by seven tomorrow morning.”

  “And the transport up the mountain?”

  “Garrett Har
tman has it under control. He has some volunteers from the search and rescue team lined up to go with us. We should have plenty of people-power. How was your ride down?”

  “Uneventful. Yours?”

  “I’m getting used to it.”

  “Someone shot and killed a ram up on the ridge,” Mattie said. “Left the carcass and then disappeared.”

  “You’re kidding me!”

  “The timing made me wonder if it’s related to our case.”

  Stella was silent for a few moments. “Our victim’s killer should be long gone. Why would he hang around to shoot a ram?”

  “But how many people go up to that area to begin with? Outside of the wildlife team, you could probably count them on the fingers of one hand,” Mattie said.

  “This is one of those strange things that makes me crazy at night. We need more information about it.”

  “Cole wants to ride to the other side of the ridge in the morning to try to do a postmortem on the ram and see if he can retrieve a slug. He’ll contact Ed Lovejoy this evening, and maybe he’ll go along. After all, it’s Ed’s responsibility.”

  “Maybe you should go, too.”

  “Actually, I’d like to. Robo and I searched all around the gravesite without finding a thing this afternoon. Maybe we can find some piece of evidence up there. Something the shooter left behind.”

  “I’ll talk to the sheriff and clear it. We’ll meet here at six in the morning to be ready to leave by seven.”

  “Got it. I’m a mess and headed for the shower.”

  Stella’s reply carried a smile. “By all means, don’t let me get in your way.”

  “Oh, one more thing. While we were up on the ridge taking a look at the ram, Cole and I spotted some indentations in the soil at the far side of the meadow, where it meets the trees. The grass is a darker green. They might be places where elk bed down, but the grass wasn’t smashed and they didn’t look typical. I think these spots deserve a closer look.”