Burning Ridge

by Margaret Mizushima

  She paused. “Can you contact the police out here, tell them this is your brother that’s missing? Maybe they would take it more seriously hearing the concern come from another police officer.”

  “I’d be happy to. Can you text me the phone number for the police department you’re dealing with? And did they give you a case number on the missing person report?”

  “They did. I’ll text that, too. And, thank you, Mattie.”

  “Of course. I’m glad you contacted me. If I hear from him, I’ll let you know.”

  “I’d appreciate that.”

  Mattie ended the call, and soon heard her phone ping with the text message from Tamara. She guessed she shouldn’t be surprised at this turn of events, but she couldn’t help but feel disappointed in her brother.

  She unloaded Robo, grabbed her two backpacks, and entered the station, going first to clock in and then heading for her office. Since Rainbow’s shift didn’t start until seven, Sam Corns still manned the front desk, his shiny bald head lowered over a manual that he was reading.

  Mattie used the information from Tamara to call the Hollywood police station. The dispatcher told her that a Detective Hastings had been assigned to her brother’s case, but he hadn’t checked in yet. He forwarded her call to voice messaging, and Mattie spoke to the recorder, stating her law enforcement title along with her concerns and her relationship to the missing person. She left her cell phone number and asked for a call if anything turned up during the day, stating she’d be out of cell phone range but would look for his message by evening. Maybe that would at least spur some action. It wasn’t much, but it was all she could do at the moment.

  She found the others in the briefing room, Stella and the sheriff seated at a front table along with a man that she assumed was the CBI agent from Denver. He stood when she entered, meeting her gaze with strong brown eyes that were so dark they were almost black. Though he was of medium height, his posture projected the illusion of someone taller. Built solid and muscular, he was probably a force to be reckoned with in a wrestling match, and his dark hair was cut close to his head.

  His eyes flicked downward to take in Robo, but then moved right back up to lock onto hers in a way that indicated a propensity for keen observation. That, coupled with the hardened planes of his face, almost put Mattie off, but the instant he smiled, his entire set of features softened.

  The sheriff was quick to stand and make introductions. “Good morning, Deputy Cobb. This is Special Agent Rick Lawson of the CBI. He’ll be helping us with our investigation.”

  Mattie shook hands, not a bit surprised by the firmness of the man’s grip. “We’re going to need your expertise. Our victim’s body is badly damaged.”

  “So I hear.” Rick’s intense, dark eyes moved to include the others. “I also hear that you’ve found some depressions in the area that warrant investigation.”

  “We did.”

  “Good eye. Did your dog hit on them?”

  “No, but he’s not cadaver trained.”

  His brow lifted slightly. “I heard he found your victim.”

  “True, but he was working from a scent article. He’s trained for search and rescue, and he’s real good at it.”

  “Well, I’m taking a portable, ground-penetrating radar unit up, so we can take a look with that after we excavate your victim.”

  Mattie nodded. “I’ll be going to scout out the back of the ridge this morning, but Deputy Brody is already up at the crime scene. He can show you the area we’re talking about.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “Have a seat,” McCoy said, gesturing toward the food on the table. “My wife sent fruit Danish and we have fresh coffee.”

  Mattie had already eaten breakfast but still helped herself, knowing that anything that came from Mrs. McCoy’s kitchen would be delicious.

  Stella refilled her coffee cup. “The Byers County lab has sent tissue samples from the victim’s foot to a forensics lab in Denver. They’ll expedite searching for our victim through CODIS and the National DNA Index System. If we’re lucky enough for him to be in the database, we’ll have a match soon.”

  CODIS, the Combined DNA Index System operated by the FBI, contained DNA profiles taken from crime scenes and from offenders who’d been arrested for or convicted of violent crimes such as rape or homicide. If this victim had been connected with such a crime anytime since the 1990s, he’d most likely be in the system. NDIS, or the National DNA Index System, provided for identifying missing persons and the unidentified. The search could also be broadened to include a DNA family match, which made the two databases even more effective.

  McCoy cleared his throat, as if brushing away morning cobwebs. “We have horses arriving here soon. We’ll have two set up with pack saddles to pack in your gear,” he told Rick.

  “That should do it.”

  “Have you packed into a crime scene on horseback before?” Stella asked.

  “Many times. It’s not too unusual to find bodies in remote places here in Colorado.”

  Sam Corns rapped on the door and then peered inside. “Cole Walker and the rest of the cavalry are here.”

  “Send them in,” McCoy said. “We’ll fortify with coffee and then load up so we can get on our way.”

  * * *

  This second trip up the mountain doesn’t seem nearly as scary, Mattie thought, relaxing in the saddle atop Mountaineer as she followed Stella and Honey upslope beneath the pines. Today she could even register the pine scent that saturated the forest, a scent she loved. Perhaps her nightmare had put everything into perspective—nothing in this reality could outdo the terror she’d felt in that dream.

  Ed Lovejoy rode along with them, and he, Cole, and Mattie planned to split off from the other investigators halfway up the trail to go to the backside of the ridge. Mattie felt torn about not returning to the gravesite with the rest of the party, but she and Robo had searched as much of the surrounding area as they could yesterday and found nothing. Although the chance seemed remote that their victim’s killer might be the same person who killed the ram, it seemed important to find the spot where the shots came from, in case the shooter had left behind evidence that could be associated with their victim’s case. Besides, the gravesite excavation required a skill set different from hers and Robo’s. There would be little she could do to be of help there.

  Within the hour, they came to the trail’s fork, and it took only moments for the party to get sorted out. Soon Mattie found herself riding up a new trail, this one steeper and rockier than the other.

  Lovejoy took the lead and Cole the rear as they ascended, while Robo trotted out in front. Once, when they faced a particularly steep grade, Mattie heard Cole speak softly behind her. “Remember to lean forward when you go uphill.”

  She tried to do what he said, but could feel her back stiffen when Mountaineer lurched and scrambled to climb, his hooves churning. She ended up clinging to the saddle horn like she’d done the day before.

  The decades-old forest fire had not reached the backside of the ridge, so the trees grew dense along this narrow and seldom used access. She loved the mountains but the overhanging evergreens triggered her claustrophobia. Her sweaty palms grew slippery on the leather saddle horn, and she had to focus on slowing her breath. After what seemed like eons, the trail broke onto a granite slab that ran close to the top of the ridge. She breathed a sigh of relief as the space opened up and she could see again.

  Lovejoy pointed to the top of a rise layered with rose-colored shale, too risky to reach on horseback. “We’re probably near the opposite side from where the ram and the herd were yesterday. We might have to scout the top on foot.”

  “Let’s tie up here where the horses have some shade,” Cole said. “And where I can change into hiking boots.”

  “Well, shee-ite, Doc. Did you bring me a pair?”

  “Sorry, Ed. I guess you’re on your own.”

  With a good-natured grimace, Lovejoy spat a brown stream of tobacco and
went to tie his horse.

  Once on the ground, Mattie felt back in her element. She offered Robo a drink of water from his collapsible bowl, and he lapped for a long time. When he’d finished, she put the collar that he wore for evidence detection on him and told him he was going to work. He waved his tail and gazed into her eyes, telling her he understood although his typical excitement seemed dampened by the amount of energy it had taken to reach this elevation.

  When Cole arose, stamping his rugged boots as if to test the tread, Mattie finished up with Robo and put her water supply away in her backpack. Then she gave her dog the command reserved for evidence detection, “Seek,” which shifted him into sniffing mode.

  Mattie had expanded Robo’s skills by training him to find newly spent casings and shotgun shells, the ammo commonly used around Timber Creek. Even though her dog wasn’t formally trained in explosives detection, she felt confident that he could scent gunpowder when she needed him to.

  Cole and Lovejoy fell in behind while Mattie and Robo struck off toward the top of the ridge. She picked her way through boulders, sometimes leaning forward to get a handhold. Nose to the ground, Robo quartered the area in front of her, covering about twice the distance she did, while she kept a sharp eye out and scanned the same area visually.

  Robo breached the top first and posed there against the skyline waiting for her. When she reached him, she could see that Lovejoy’s estimation of their location had been spot-on. From this pinnacle, the ridge fell away, offering her a clear view of the meadow below, filled with the brilliant red of the fireweed, as well as a panorama of the burned area and dozens of miles of rolling evergreen forest. About a hundred yards downhill, she spotted the ram’s carcass.

  Cole came up beside her and handed her the binoculars. She focused and swept the sights along the ridgeline and below, and then pointed to an overlook about fifty yards away. “It looks like we could follow the ridge along the top, and then go downslope on that ledge. From there, we could pick our way through the boulders to get to the ram.”

  Heaving for breath, Lovejoy finally made his way up to join them.

  Cole was scoping the area. “I think you’re right, Mattie.”

  “I’ll do a modified grid search on the ridgeline and see if Robo can find evidence that the shooter was here. Then we’ll take it from there.” Again, Mattie gave Robo the command to seek and followed him as closely as she could.

  A tangle of slippery shale, rocks of all sizes, and huge boulders cluttered the topside of the ridge. She teetered from one rock to another, finding foothold after foothold, as she painstakingly searched the rugged terrain. Robo tiptoed easily ahead of her, searching with his nose.

  After about fifty yards of careful examination, her dog came to the overlook that she’d spied through the binoculars. He poked his nose into a pile of rocks at the top part of the ledge, and then sat and turned his stare toward Mattie.

  No mistaking that look. He’d found something.

  “Good boy,” Mattie praised him, thumping his side while she hugged him close to her leg. “What have you got?”

  After she carefully removed the top layer of shale, something gold winked at her from between the remaining rocks. There it was. A brass casing from a spent bullet. Long enough to fit a hunting rifle.

  This casing would most likely match the rifle that shot the ram. And there was a possibility, although remote, that it might be connected in some way to their human victim.

  Mattie photographed the casing with her cell phone before taking an evidence bag from her utility belt. After turning the bag inside out, she scooped up the casing without touching it, enclosed it, and sealed it away. She could read .270 Winchester stamped on the end of the brass.

  “Good job, Robo,” she said, stroking his head as he gazed up at her. Then she looked at Cole. “I have no idea if this casing is related to the death of our victim, but if it is, we’ve just found our first piece of evidence.”

  TWELVE

  It had proven impossible to find boot prints on the rocky ledge that angled down toward the ram carcass. Cole followed Mattie and the sure-footed Robo as they made for the sheep’s body, while Lovejoy waited for them up above. Even though this was his jurisdiction, the wildlife manager seemed willing to have them take over the investigation, and under the circumstances, it felt like the right thing to do. Mattie and Robo were more efficient and could photograph whatever was necessary without Ed having to risk his life.

  Reaching the dead ram took only about five minutes. As they approached the carcass, the memory of the magnificent animal twisted Cole’s gut. Only yesterday, this ram had been on top of his world, in charge of his harem. The ewes were still hanging around farther down the ridge, and he was relieved that they hadn’t scattered to parts unknown when their leader was shot. Without wasting time, a younger male with a lesser horn curl appeared to have moved in on the old ram’s territory.

  Before Robo could get too close to the ram’s body, Mattie called him and told him to wait. Decomposition was well underway, and the odor intensified as they drew near.

  “Let’s get some pictures,” Mattie said.

  While she photographed the site, Cole made his way toward the ram’s front end. “Something bothers me about you finding that casing, Mattie.”

  “What’s that?”

  “A real hunter always picks up his brass, doesn’t want to leave an environmental footprint.”

  “This shell was down in some rocks. Maybe he looked for it but couldn’t find it.”

  “That’s possible. But how hard is it to swipe away some shale?”

  Mattie nodded, looking like she was taking that in and conceding the point as she squatted and snapped a few photos of the ledge and ridge above her.

  Cole moved closer. “If you’re done with pictures of the ram, I’ll try to retrieve the slug.”

  “Go ahead.”

  Cole put on latex gloves and removed a bowie knife with a seven-inch blade from a sheath he wore on his belt.

  “Do you think the shooter knew we were in the area?” Mattie asked.

  “I think we could assume that. Why else would he disappear so quickly?”

  Cole examined the entry wound on the ram’s side. “Looks like a heart shot, which tells me the guy knew what he was doing. Odd for a hunter who leaves his casings behind.”

  Mattie shook her head, obviously pondering it.

  Cole faced the job at hand. On normal terrain, he would use the animal’s stiffened legs to roll it so that he could search for an exit wound, but if he rolled this ram, he would send it tumbling downhill and possibly set off a rockslide in the process. He decided to go into the chest cavity and search for the slug through the place of entry, counting on it not being a through-and-through wound.

  He sliced upward between the ribs, carved through the cartilage at the spine, and sliced back down. Once he cut the rib away from its support, he removed it and inserted his hand into the space it left behind, feeling for the bullet. Within minutes, he located the projectile, withdrew it from the ram’s chest, and delivered it into an evidence bag that Mattie held ready.

  “Ballistics can tell if this slug and the brass that Robo found match.” She appeared to be thinking aloud. “This has to be someone who knew his way around and could navigate this terrain. Maybe a local?”

  “Makes sense.” He stripped off his gloves, turned them inside out, and disposed of them in a ziplock bag that he would carry out.

  Mattie turned upslope and scanned the area. She pointed to an outcropping about halfway up. “That looks like a place where someone could hide and not be seen from down below.”

  Robo fell in beside Mattie as they climbed toward the top. At the backside of the outcropping, she stopped, squatted, and searched the ground. Smudged boot prints.

  Realization sunk in, raising the hair at the back of Cole’s neck. He turned and searched the terrain below to confirm his suspicion. Yesterday, while he and Mattie climbed the hillside, someone h
ad been perched up here hidden behind these boulders, armed with a hunting rifle, and quite likely watching them through the scope.

  * * *

  When they returned to the crime scene, a great transformation had taken place. Orange and blue domed tents had sprung up overnight, looking like huge colorful mushrooms sprouting among the evergreens. Several members of the sheriff’s posse were tending a campfire and cooking a meal for the workers.

  After tying their horses beside the others, Ed Lovejoy went to help out at the campfire while Mattie and Cole made their way up the trail to the shallow grave. Exhumation of the gravesite was well under way. Mattie stopped at a distance where she could watch the forensic team do their work but still stay out of their way.

  Wearing a soiled white coverall and latex gloves, one of the human recovery team members knelt beside the pit, digging carefully with a hand trowel while his teammates used framed screens to sift through the dirt. He’d already dug a trench about eighteen inches wide and twelve inches deep most of the way around the body. Rick Lawson, Stella, Brody, and Sheriff McCoy stood a few feet away, watching.

  Brody came over. “That’s a forensic anthropologist heading up the recovery. From the size and shape of the corpse, he believes this victim is a man, although his features have been burned beyond recognition.”

  The information confirmed her first impression. Mattie briefed Brody on what she’d found, as well as Cole’s belief that a true hunter wouldn’t leave behind his brass. “I wish we’d gone after him yesterday. Maybe we could have caught him.”

  He appeared to mull over what he’d heard. “We were out of daylight and short staffed. Maybe the ram’s death has nothing to do with our victim here. We’ll have to see if we recover any lead during the autopsy.”

  Mattie had already had the same thought. A bullet recovered from the body could be analyzed by ballistics to see if it matched the same type of casing that Robo found.

  Brody moved closer to the gravesite, while Mattie remained standing beside Cole. The recovery team had begun to remove the soil on top of the body, painstakingly separating dirt from charred wood. When they uncovered the victim’s remaining foot, she could see that the charred boot matched the one that Bruno found.