Burning Ridge

by Margaret Mizushima

  The fear for Mattie that Cole had felt earlier was nothing compared to that gripping his chest now. “Mattie’s up there.”

  Garrett worked to settle his restless horse. “We’ve got to ride north across this slope until we intersect Balderhouse. By then, we can see which way the fire is going to spread.”

  Robo whined and barked. Head raised, he sniffed the wind. He gave Cole a stare and then stood with ears pricked, looking uphill to the northwest.

  Could he have caught Mattie’s scent on the wind?

  Robo launched himself forward, hit the end of the leash, and then whirled and backed away, struggling to break free. Worried that he might slip his collar, Cole dismounted and grabbed hold of him.

  “Robo, wait.” Cole turned to the others. “I think he’s found Mattie’s scent on the wind. She can’t be far from here.”

  Brody looked upwind. “She’d be directly northwest, possibly in the pathway of the fire. What’s the terrain like in that direction?” he asked Garrett.

  “No trail, about like this. There might be places we need to ride around, but we can make it.”

  “Fast enough to get north of that fire?”

  Garrett shrugged.

  Cole felt the need to keep moving. He checked the tightness of Robo’s collar. If they lost him in this country, they’d never find him. “I’ll follow Robo. You two keep moving north to the trail. We’ll all meet there.”

  “No,” Brody said. “Garrett, you go north, I’ll stick with Cole.”

  “We’ll all stick together,” Garrett said. “Safety in numbers.”

  Brody considered it for only a second. “Cole, you lead the way.”

  “Let’s go find Mattie,” he told Robo as he swung into the saddle and reined Mountaineer off the trail. Robo bolted to the end of the leash, hitting it hard, and it snapped loose at the reel. Cole shouted for him to stay, but Robo paused only long enough to realize he was free, and then he turned and ran into the wind.

  “Follow him,” Brody yelled.

  The wind that Cole rode into felt like a furnace from the depths of the earth.

  * * *

  Mattie traveled north, angling downhill with the wind to her left. Heat warmed her cheek, and as she ran, she checked the fire line whenever the timber opened up enough to see. It appeared to be gaining on her.

  Smoke filtered through the forest making her cough, and she knew it could be just as deadly as the fire. An occasional deer bounded past, running in the same direction as she, giving her hope that she was on the right course. She struggled on.

  Her ears filled with the combined noise of the wind and fire, but a new sound caught her attention—one she wasn’t expecting. A sharp, staccato bark. A dog? Couldn’t be. A coyote or a wolf?

  She slowed, but the noise didn’t repeat, so she couldn’t determine its location. As she resumed her speed, she hoped the animal would find a safe spot to hole up.

  Another bark stopped her. This time she could tell the bark came from behind, and it was close. She turned as a dark shadow lunged from between the trees, coming at her full tilt. The shadow was shaped like a wolf, but moonlight touched the tan color pattern. She thought she must be hallucinating—it couldn’t be—but she recognized those tan markings.

  “Robo!” She knelt, spreading her arms.

  He tried to brake, but his exuberance made him thud into her chest, knocking her down. She grabbed onto him while he whined, licked her face, and wagged his whole body, snuggling as close as he could. She said his name over and over until tears choked her and all she could do was sob, amazement and joy filling her until it spilled over into the only outlet she could manage.

  Robo licked her tears, and she pressed her face against his cheek and into his ruff as she hugged him close, stroking his fur, touching him to make sure he was real. Her hand came in contact with a cord, and she realized that he wore a leash clipped to his collar. Holding onto him with one arm, she tugged it toward her, recognizing the tough, nylon cord used in a retractable leash. It was frayed at the end.

  He must have broken loose from someone. The guy who held her captive? Or someone else?

  She used Robo’s strength and size to help her kneel, keeping him close and leaning against him. She hadn’t realized how desperately she’d been running on empty, and the fire had moved even closer. Time to run.

  Robo began to bark, his front paws lifting with each effort as he faced the direction he’d come from.

  Shadows of three riders materialized through the trees, and Mattie stood braced against Robo, her heart thudding with fear.

  “Mattie!” She recognized Cole’s voice, making her breath catch with a sob.

  He swung down from his horse and hit the ground running, closing the gap between them and gathering her into his arms. “Thank God we found you,” he breathed, his mouth against her ear.

  Brody and Garrett Hartman were the other two riders, Brody shouting orders and Garrett holding Mountaineer steady while Cole made her let go of Robo so he could lift her into the saddle. He swung up behind and wrapped both arms around her, gathering the reins and nudging Mountaineer forward.

  Hot wind washed over them as they headed straight across slope, trying to reach the north side of the blaze. Off balance, Mattie reeled in the saddle.

  Cole steadied her, holding her against his chest and speaking close to her ear. “Did he dart you? Are you sick?”

  “He did. Dizzy. Nauseous.”

  Cole slowed, and Brody pulled up alongside. “We need to stop and give her the antidote.”

  The typically stalwart Mountaineer danced in place, fighting the tight rein that Cole had on him and making Mattie’s vision swirl. Fiery wind blew over them and smoke filled the air. Sparks landed in trees. Robo barked.

  “We don’t have time, Doc. We’ll stop as soon as we’ve beat this fire.”

  “Go,” Mattie said, not wanting to endanger the others. “I’m okay.”

  Cole hugged her tightly as he allowed Mountaineer to follow Garrett. “Hold on.”

  She gripped Cole’s arms and stared straight forward, hoping to anchor herself to keep the swaying movement from making her sick. As they rode, the hot wind that beat against her left side gradually lessened, the air became cleaner, and then they broke into forest that appeared untouched by sparks. Soon the roar from the fire came from behind instead of sideways.

  “Hold up Garrett,” Brody called, and as they came to a halt, he said to Cole, “Okay, Doc, we can take a minute now.”

  Cole swung down to the ground and extracted a syringe and vial from his pocket. “Mattie, this is the antidote to the drug you were given. I already gave some to Robo and it reversed him within minutes. I can inject you with the same dose.”

  “Do it.”

  “Can you take this arm out of your sleeve?” Cole said as he drew the dosage into the syringe.

  Mattie shrugged off the sleeve while Cole helped. Robo pranced at his feet, looking up at her. She wished she didn’t feel so weak and could get down on the ground with him. She spoke to him soothingly.

  “Now lean forward so I can reach you,” Cole said. “That’s it. Little sting.”

  Which was an understatement. The shot stung like a hornet as the medicine infiltrated the muscle of her upper arm.

  Cole swung back up to sit behind her. “Let’s keep moving. Tell me how you’re feeling, Mattie. Keep talking to me so I know you’re all right.”

  “I’ll be all right,” she said, as they moved off, Garrett leading the way.

  Every thirty seconds, Cole asked her how she was feeling and after a few minutes, she could honestly say she was beginning to feel better. The trees had stopped circling in her vision, and Garrett and his horse had solidified into one image instead of morphing into double. Her nausea subsided, leaving her with a raging thirst. Cole handed her his canteen while they rode, and water had never tasted so good.

  After a half hour, they reached a trail and turned to head down it.

  “Th
is is the Balderhouse trail,” Cole murmured. “Do you know it?”

  “Sort of.” Then she called to Garrett. “Hold up a minute.”

  Brody rode up beside.

  “If this is the trail he brought me up on, I was in a cave off to the south somewhere,” she said to Brody. “It would be up where the fire started. He might still be there.”

  “Do you know who he is?”

  “He wore a mask, a gas mask. It distorted his voice. I couldn’t recognize him.” She had another thought. “But I might recognize the scent of his cologne if I smelled it again.”

  “Great, Cobb. Your dog is rubbing off on you.” The teasing note in Brody’s words reestablished some normalcy.

  “Let’s go up there and look for him.”

  “You’re not going anywhere except to the doctor,” Brody said, and Cole made a sound of agreement.

  “We can’t let him get away. Robo can track him.”

  Brody studied her, as if taking her measure by the glow from the fire. She tried to straighten in the saddle.

  “We’ll pull up here and wait for the rest of our party to come up this trail,” he said. “Then we’ll decide.”

  THIRTY-THREE

  There was no way Cole would let Mattie head up that mountain to go after a killer. No freakin’ way. The wind had pushed the fire southward, but still, it could shift back on them at any minute.

  Sunrise glowed on the eastern horizon, providing enough light to see Mattie clearly, and she looked terrible—her pale face smeared with ash and bloodied from cuts and scratches, the whites of her eyes bloodshot, a reddened angry bruise around her neck from some type of ligature or garrote. Her voice was hoarse.

  That monster must have strangled her, tortured her. When she’d taken her arm from the sleeve of her hoodie so that he could administer the injection, he’d seen abrasions at her wrist, dark splotchy bruises, and a blistered burn on her forearm.

  The antidote had reversed the effects of Thianil for the most part, but occasionally he could feel a fine tremor course through her body. When he climbed down from Mountaineer and helped her dismount, she staggered as her feet hit the ground before catching her balance.

  “You need to get to a doctor,” he murmured, for her ears only. He’d start with trying to convince her before bringing Brody into the picture, but if he had to ask the chief deputy to pull rank, he would. “At the very least, you’re dehydrated, and you need to be monitored for side effects from that drug.”

  “I just need more water,” she said, reaching a trembling hand for the canteen. Robo pressed against her legs, looking up at her.

  He handed his reins to Garrett and then led her to a small boulder a short distance from the horses. “Sit down here with Robo while we wait. I’ve got some energy bars in my pack. Do you feel like you can eat one?”

  “Not yet. Maybe in a few minutes.”

  Which told him her nausea had not completely subsided. Her face and that burn needed cleaning and treatment. “Let me get my first aid kit from my pack.”

  Cole’s eyes met Garrett’s as he went to retrieve his kit from Mountaineer’s saddle. His friend held Mattie in a special place in his heart, and lines of concern etched his craggy face as he untied a tightly rolled sleeping bag from behind his own saddle.

  Garrett took the bag to Mattie, unzipping it as he went. “Here, stand up a minute, Mattie.” He spread the bag open and wrapped it snuggly around her shoulders, tucking it into her hands in front as she sat back down on the cold stone.

  She gave him a wan smile of gratitude.

  Cole bent over her and used gauze pads and water to bathe her wounds, finishing up with touches of antibiotic ointment on the cuts and scrapes. Although there were dozens of them, he didn’t think any of them would need to be sutured. At least that was something.

  He dressed the second-degree burn on her arm with antiseptic and a sterile pad. As long as it didn’t get infected, he thought it would heal without problems. The sleeping bag had helped, and by the time he zipped up his first aid kit, her shivers appeared to have ceased.

  Brody came over to squat beside her. “Tell me what happened.”

  Garrett moved off a few paces as if giving her privacy.

  “I remember Robo getting darted in the backyard. I tried to reach him, but then the guy darted me. I thought Robo might be dead.” Her eyes met Cole’s and he could read her questions there.

  “Riley found him. She called me.” There would be time later to give her more details if she wanted them.

  Her eyelids fluttered and her breath caught as she looked away. Cole could tell her feelings were raw and exposed. She bent and hugged Robo against her while she waged a battle to control her emotion.

  Brody pressed on. “What happened after he took you from the yard?”

  “I don’t remember much at first.” She told them about becoming aware that she was draped over a horse and being taken uphill, about awakening inside the cave with her hands tied, about being able to cut herself free while her captor built a fire, and then fighting him to break away and run.

  Cole thought that her summary had left out some important details, and evidently Brody agreed. He touched his own throat as he posed his next question. “What about the ligature mark on your neck?”

  Mattie touched it gently. “He was trying to get me to talk. To tell him where he could find Ramona Cobb … which is something I don’t know.”

  “Your mother?”

  “That was apparently his motive for taking me and for torturing and killing Willie. To find Ramona Cobb.”

  “Did he confess to killing William?”

  “Not in those words. But he told me he was going to give me what he gave my brother, so yeah, he was the one who killed Willie.”

  “Just so he could get information about Ramona Cobb? Why? What all did he tell you?”

  With complete emotional detachment, Mattie began to pass on the information she’d been told while being held prisoner. She told them how her captor believed that Ramona had taken money that was rightfully his, how he planned to track her down, and how he and Harold Cobb had been involved in a gunrunning operation decades earlier.

  Though Mattie told her story without emotion, Cole wanted to plant his fist into something—preferably the face of the guy who’d taken her. He felt her slump beside him as she lifted the canteen to her lips, and he placed his arm against her back to support her.

  Robo yawned and sank to the ground, nestling his head on her shoe. Mattie leaned forward and stroked the fur between his ears. He closed his eyes, looking exhausted but content.

  Still squatting, Brody shifted on his heels. “We think the guy who took you is Bret Flynn.”

  Mattie’s focus appeared to turn inward. “I never saw his face because of the mask, but his shape and size could be a match to Flynn. Why did you home in on him?”

  Brody stood, his knees popping. “Lawson found a break-in at a hunting reserve near L.A. where the drugs and equipment used on you might have been stolen. The other possible suspect is Tucker York—he’s from around that area, too. Flynn’s horses and his rig aren’t at his place, and he didn’t show up for work last night. Was there anything about the guy that reminded you of either of these two men?”

  She thought and then shook her head. “York strikes me as the right size and strong enough to be the one, too, but I don’t have enough to identify either of them.” She glanced at Cole. “What about Riley?”

  “She’s at my house. She stayed there after we took care of Robo.” He wanted to reassure her but felt he should inform her of their suspicion. “Before we left the station, we speculated that your captor might have a partner who moved his rig away from the trailheads for him when he took William, and then you, up to the Ridge. We wondered if Riley could be Flynn’s partner. Stella went to my house to talk to her. We haven’t heard from them yet.”

  Mattie shook her head and gazed off into the distance. “Could I have missed something with Riley?”


  “I need to call on the sat phone and tell the sheriff you’re safe.” Brody turned toward his horse where the satellite phone was tied to his saddle. “I’ll see what Stella found out with the kid.”

  Cole sat with Mattie while they waited. After a brief interchange, Brody turned toward them to report.

  “Stella said her interview was uneventful. She thinks the kid knows nothing and hasn’t been involved.”

  The sound of shod hooves clicking on rock echoed through the forest, and Garrett stepped forward to peer down the trail. “It’s the others in our party. Looks like they picked up a spare horse.”

  Robo awakened, rising to wave his tail as Rick Lawson and Frank reined to a halt, Frank leading a stout black gelding. Mattie left the sleeping bag on the boulder and moved forward to greet them. Their faces lit when they saw her, and a moment of quiet celebration followed.

  “Where did you get the extra horse?” Brody asked.

  “He came charging down the trail,” Lawson said, “dragging a broken picket line.”

  “Is this the horse that carried you up to the cave?” Brody asked Mattie.

  “I never saw either of the horses, the one he rode or the one I was on. It was too dark while we were moving, and I didn’t see them when I ran off.”

  Cole didn’t recognize the horse. “I don’t think I’ve seen this gelding before. He’s not the one that Flynn brought to my clinic.”

  “I saw two horses in Flynn’s corral when I went to talk to him,” Mattie said. “This wasn’t one of them.”

  “Take a look at what’s in the scabbard,” Lawson said, gesturing toward the gelding.

  Brody put on leather gloves as he approached the gelding and then pulled a rifle free from the scabbard before checking the ammo. “A Remington Model 700 loaded with .270 Winchester ammo.”

  “We’ll send the rifle to ballistics,” Lawson said, “but I’m willing to bet we’ve got the weapon that killed the ram.”

  “Was there a truck and trailer at the trailhead when you got there?” Brody asked.

  Lawson shook his head. “Nothing parked there. What other trail could have been used?”