by Paty Jager
He had a feeling she was hiding out on the Idaho side of the Hells Canyon. But she couldn’t do that the rest of her life.
What they needed to do was dig into her uncle’s life and see if they could find a cabin or property that he’d owned. Chances were, if this whole escape and murder were connected to his death, she was staying where she felt close to him.
A car beeped. Hawke jumped.
“Hey, do your daydreaming out of the middle of the parking lot,” Dani called to him from the window of her car.
He glanced around and realized he stood in the middle of the asphalt between the office and the rooms.
She stepped out of her car and popped the trunk. “You gonna grab your duffel, or do you want me to get it?”
He hurried over, grabbing his bag and shutting the trunk lid.
“Are you hungry?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
“I googled and The Steak House has good marks.” Dani walked up the stairs to room 210 and shoved the key in the doorknob. “Meet you out here in fifteen?”
“Yeah.” He unlocked 211 and stepped into a small, clean room. The bed was inviting, but his grumbling stomach overrode his desire to fall on the bed and sleep. How long would it take him to feel rested? Once he got back to Wallowa County, he’d load up Horse and Jack and head back this direction to look for Ms. Cox. He knew Idaho officials were looking for her, but he had a vendetta. No one kills someone and gets away with it, when he should have known something was up. He wouldn’t be able to let this go until the woman was in custody.
«»«»«»
Hawke waved at Dani as she drove by when he turned off the highway onto the road leading to the Trembleys. He’d had a nice dinner with the woman last night. She’d realized how tired he was and didn’t ask him to stay up visiting with her. He’d hit the bed and been dead to the world when she’d knocked on his door in the morning to see if he was ready for breakfast.
They ate, and she drove him out to Saddle Pit where he thanked her, climbed into his pickup, and headed home. She’d followed him all the way.
On the drive, he’d called Spruel. The sergeant told him they’d found both the shotgun and the handgun in the ashes. That meant Ms. Cox had another weapon or used the handgun on Sheridan and tossed it down to be ruined in the fire. No way to connect a weapon with her. She was clever.
After the sergeant updated him, Hawke asked for time off. Given the days and hours he’d put in the last week, the time off was granted. He didn’t tell his superior where he was going. Sometimes it was best to keep that sort of thing to himself.
He’d also called Mathews at the Idaho County Sheriff’s Department and asked him for all records on Theodore Shoat and Tonya Cox.
He backed his truck up to the horse trailer. Dog ran out of the stables, his tail wagging.
Hawke stepped out of the vehicle and scratched the dog’s ears. “Are you rested up? We’re heading out again.”
“Looks like you’re going somewhere with the horses,” Herb said, crossing from the barn, where he worked on farm machinery, to the stables.
“Taking some time off. Thought I’d go on a camping trip with Jack and Horse.” Hawke wasn’t lying. He was going camping with his horse and mule. Because he wasn’t officially working.
“That’s good. But I’d think you’d want to go rest with your mom or someplace that didn’t require you sleeping outdoors.” Herb studied him.
“You know me. I appreciate the wildlife and being in the outdoors.” Hawke plugged in the trailer lights and headed to the stables. “Will you ask Darlene to take care of Boy while I’m gone? I plan to compensate her for all the extra work I’ve given her this month.”
Herb waved a hand. “You know she doesn’t expect anything extra from you.”
“I still shouldn’t be putting more work on her.” Hawke stopped at the bottom of the stairs. “I’ll pack and be out of here in an hour.”
“Take care.” Herb turned and walked out of the stables.
Hawke snagged his pack still sitting at the bottom of the stairs. He’d have to wash clothes somewhere. In his apartment, he dumped the contents of his pack onto the floor and sorted the food dropped to him by the helicopter and what little he’d had of his own. He shoved the dirty clothes into his pack and closed it. He’d wash these on the way out of town. Alder had a clean laundromat, and the woman who owned it would switch his clothes from the washer to the dryer while he went shopping for food.
He put the food he planned to take with him in a paper bag. There wasn’t much. After writing a check for his rent and the stable rent, he put the checks in an envelope. He’d drop it off at the house on his way out. The rent would be due while he was gone. His simple life required he worry about few bills. He liked it that way.
Carrying the dirty clothes and bag of food, he descended the stairs and dropped the bag of food at his pack box and took the backpack out to toss in the back of his truck. Back in the stable, he put the food in the pack box after checking to make sure all his camping gear was in the box. Mentally, he calculated how much dog food and food he’d need to purchase to keep Dog and him filled up while looking for Ms. Cox.
He put the packsaddle and pack box in the storage area in the front of the horse trailer. When that was all stowed along with his saddle, bridle, and hay cubes, Hawke loaded up Jack and Horse.
Dog jumped into the pickup cab when the door opened. He wasn’t going to be left behind.
Darlene strode down the walk from her house as he slowed to a stop. “Where are you going?”
“Time off. Going on a vacation.” Hawke handed her the envelope with the rent money. “When I get back, I’ll treat you to a day at the Lake Spa for taking care of Boy.”
“You don’t have to do that. You know I like that flighty appaloosa.” She took the envelope.
“Doesn’t matter if you like him. I keep giving you more work.” He pulled away and headed the truck for Alder. If he was lucky, Mrs. Rochelle would get his laundry done quickly while he shopped.
Chapter Seventeen
Hawke pulled into Pittsburgh Campground after dark. He unloaded Jack and Horse and walked them around. It had been a long haul. After tying the animals to the side of the trailer, he took his collapsible and regular bucket to the water faucet under the tree down by the boat ramp and filled them. Back at the trailer he set the buckets in front of the horse and mule to drink.
He shoveled the horse manure into a corner of the trailer and set up a small cot he carried in the tack compartment of the trailer. This was where he planned to spend the night and head out first thing in the morning for an area Deputy Mathews told him had belonged to Theodore Shoat. The land had reverted to the Forest Service at the man’s death. Hawke had a feeling he’d find Ms. Cox hiding there. The authorities had her description and photo all over the media in hopes someone would report her whereabouts.
«»«»«»
Dog led the way as Hawke, riding Jack and leading Horse, followed a faint trail north of Pittsburgh Landing toward Horse Ridge. Mathews discovered Ms. Cox’s uncle had a mining claim in that area. Hawke had the coordinates to get him somewhat close, but it would be up to him to discover where the woman was hiding.
His phone vibrated in his pocket. Surprised he received a signal, Hawke glanced at it. Shit!
He slid a finger across the surface and answered. “Sergeant, what are you doing calling me on my vacation?” His superior must know what he was doing or he wouldn’t have called.
“You know damn well why I’m calling you. You’re lucky I haven’t relayed what I know on to the lieutenant.”
Hawke groaned. Not only was his butt on the line for this unofficial foray after Ms. Cox, but now his sergeant’s was as well. “I got a lead on where Ms. Cox might be hiding.”
“Lead? That’s what you call asking another officer to send you information that you wouldn’t need if you were really on vacation?” Spruel sounded more than irritated. An angry tone Hawke had never hea
rd turned on him made him wonder if he should have gone to the reservation and visited his mother.
“I can’t let this woman get away with murder. She played me, and I’m going to find her.” Hawke felt his reputation was on the line along with his sense of justice.
“Then you shouldn’t have asked for a vacation. Just said you were going to find the woman.” Papers shuffled on the other side of the connections. “As of this moment you are no longer on vacation, but you damn well better take one soon. Keep me updated as best you can. I believe Mathews is also on the ground looking for the woman.”
Hawke knew he shouldn’t be pleased Spruel took him off his vacation to save both their butts, but he’d known the man would back him up. “I’ll try to connect with Mathews.” The sergeant said something else but the signal faded.
“Looks like we’re back on the job,” he said to Dog. “Good thing I have my badge and gun.”
He was so used to wearing his badge on a chain around his neck, hidden under his shirt when out in the woods, he’d not bothered to leave it home. It was second nature for him to put it on when he was headed out with the horses. His handgun was a given no matter if he was on duty or off when he rode around in the mountains. The shotgun in his scabbard, that was more for warning off cougars, wolves, and bears than protection.
After contemplating the map of the area, he’d decided to follow West Creek to Horse Ridge. Somewhere on Big Canyon Saddle was a mine that had been staked by Theodore Shoat.
«»«»«»
Mid-afternoon Hawke stopped to give the horses and himself a break. He opened up a bag of jerky and tossed Dog a biscuit while he read the report on Tonya Cox. By all accounts she was an upstanding citizen. Though he did notice as a child she’d spent lots of time in this wilderness with her uncle. Her parents were killed when she was a teenager. Uncle Theodore, her mother’s brother, had stepped in as guardian.
There were several copies of the letters she’d written to White while he was in jail. They gushed with admiration for his love of the wilderness, specifically the Hells Canyon region. They had a similar attachment to the area.
He didn’t see any mention of the claim in Big Saddle Canyon. She’d told the man nothing of herself. How had they instigated the escape? It should have been caught in the letters they’d exchanged. Had she met with him personally at the prison? But how did she make the whole escape happen? Was someone working on that angle? The next time he was on the top of a ridge, he’d see if he could get a signal to call and ask about that.
He wondered which direction Mathews would be coming to the area from. If they crossed paths it would be to their advantage.
“Let’s go,” he said to Dog, tightening the cinches on Horse and Jack. Hawke swung up into the saddle, and they continued along the forested river, slowly climbing in altitude.
«»«»«»
At dark, Hawke picked a spot that was still in the trees but at the bottom of the rock cliff they’d climb in the morning. On the other side of this ridge was Big Canyon Saddle.
Horse and Jack were high-lined between trees, munching on grass. Hawke leaned against the pack box, studying the map with his flashlight. The air was cooler this high up. He wore his jacket and was thinking about taking off his boots and sticking his legs in his sleeping bag that was rolled out underneath him.
Dog laid down beside him. Hawke put a hand on his head. “Since we’ll be at the top to drop down into the saddle, I think we should do a back and forth sweep starting from the top.”
Dog made a noise that sounded like agreement to Hawke.
“Now that that’s settled, let’s get some sleep.” He flicked the flashlight off, set it and his boots next to where his head would rest, and slid into his sleeping bag. While he was determined to catch the woman, he wasn’t thrilled to be out here again so soon after the last week-and-a-half. A sure sign he might need to think a little stronger about retiring. He was close to thirty years in the State Police. But he knew in his heart, he’d continue working for them until they kicked him out. He had nothing else to do with his time, and he enjoyed what he did most of the time.
His eyelids grew heavy.
The crack of a limb not far off, popped his eyes open.
Dog tensed.
Hawke put a hand on the dog’s collar, holding him close. “Shh,” he said before the vibration in the animal’s body escaped as a growl.
Careful to not make a sound, Hawke eased himself out of his sleeping bag. He wasn’t going to get jumped when his body was trussed up.
He listened.
No tap of hooves. It wasn’t a deer or elk. It was unlikely a wolf or cougar would snap a branch while moving through the trees. They moved with too much stealth. The only thing he could think that would make a branch crack was a person or a bird landing on a weak branch. But there hadn’t been the sound of a bird catching its balance.
He put his hand on the butt of his Glock. He always slept with it on when outdoors. Not wanting to give up his location, he stared into the dark shadows under the trees, one hand on Dog and one on his weapon, listening.
Another snap and the sound of brush scraping cloth. It was a person.
The sound grew closer.
Dog vibrated.
Hawke slipped his Glock out of the holster and pointed it the direction of the approaching person. He leaned down close to Dog’s ear and whispered, “Stay.”
With the hand that had been keeping Dog still, he picked up the flashlight, pointed it the direction of the person, and flicked the switch.
The beam lit up the area in front of Hawke.
A man stepped into the glow, his arm raised to shade his eyes. “What the...?” he said and Hawke recognized the voice.
“Mathews. What are you doing wandering around in the dark?” Hawke slipped his weapon back in the holster before the man knew he had been in the sights.
“I was camped about a quarter mile over and spotted your light. Thought I’d come see if it was you or Tonya Cox.” He walked closer and dumped his pack on the ground.
“You make enough noise, if it had been Ms. Cox you’d be another casualty.” Hawke held the flashlight as the man untied his sleeping bag and rolled it out.
“I thought I was being quiet. But I’m not usually in the wilderness as much as I’ve been lately.” Mathews sat, untied his boots and slid into his sleeping bag.
“Why did they send you out here when there are law enforcement trackers?” Hawke had wondered the same thing when Spruel told him about Mathews heading this way as well.
“I think for the same reason you are. This woman slipped by both of us at Sheep Creek cabin. It’s kind of my reputation on the line. And I believe yours, as well, since she slipped by you more than once.”
Hawke was pleased there wasn’t any smugness in the man’s comment. He was simply speaking the truth. “Yeah, that’s why I’m here. To save face.” He flicked the flashlight off and settled back in his sleeping bag. He’d have to figure out how they would work together. He knew for a fact Horse wouldn’t do well as a mount for Mathews and they needed him to haul the pack boxes.
Chapter Eighteen
Hawke and Mathews worked out a plan. Since Hawke had the horse and pack mule, he’d zig-zag back and forth from the top of the saddle downward, looking for the mine and the woman. Mathews would use his GPS to try and find the mine with the co-ordinates he’d written down from what he could find from the survey documents. If one of them discovered the woman first, they were to radio the other person. They would apprehend her when they were both present and haul her out together.
Hawke rode along the top of Horse Ridge, using his binoculars to scan the area below. The underbrush wasn’t enough to hide a person or a mine entrance. The pine trees in the area lay deteriorating on the ground from a fire years ago. He wondered what Shoat could have been mining. This area wasn’t known for gold or silver like other areas, though thirty plus Chinese miners were massacred in 1887 for the gold they found on the Or
egon side of the Snake River. Another culture that had been treated poorly by the Whiteman.
He shook his head and moved along the ridge. He was in plain sight. There was nowhere to hide, unless he crept along the other side of the ridge and peeked over with his binoculars. This was quicker and easier. If Ms. Cox saw him, he would think she’d try to hide or move out of the area. Then he would see her movement.
A thorough scan with the binoculars had him convinced the mine was hidden better than he’d anticipated or they were in the wrong area. He’d caught sight of Mathews on the south side of the saddle, making his way down into the basin. If he had the coordinates and was moving to the bottom, Hawke decided he’d best get to the bottom as well.
He gave Jack his head and let the horse make his way down the side of the rocky ridge. Horse followed behind, but jerked several times, balking and not agreeing with Jack’s route.
Dog walked alongside. This trip he didn’t run off and come back. He was still tired from all their hiking the week before.
Nearing the bottom of the ridge, the underbrush grew heavy. Hawke had to pay attention to the different bushes to make sure Jack wouldn’t be scratched by thorns as they pushed through. The limbs scraped the pack box on Horse.
It was hard to hear any sound other than the scraping. With this noise he’d never sneak up on anyone. Besides the brush, the animals had to step over the decaying logs strewn about the ground like the game Pick-up-Sticks. They finally moved out of the taller, thicker brush and Hawke discovered a trickle of water, he’d not seen from the ridge.
This had to come from a spring. There wasn’t a large enough patch of snow left on the rocky ridge to make a trickle of water this steady. Where the beginning of the spring came out of the ground could possibly be close to the mine.
He leaned down, watching Dog drink. Hawke dismounted and let the horse and mule quench their thirst. The direction of the trickle was revealed by a narrow, green, grassy path. Hawke studied the ground. The only prints were from wildlife.