Stalking Ground (20 page)

“Of course. What does that have to do with anything?”

“Rifle or bow hunting?”

“Both.”

“Did you know that your sister liked to hike?” Stella asked.

“We both do. We’ve hiked together many times.”

“Did she like to hunt? Did you ever go hunting together?”

“No. Adrienne had no interest in hunting.”

“Do you think Adrienne might have gone along on a hunting trip with someone, just to enjoy being outdoors?”

He reacted without pause. “Never. She wouldn’t want to be in a hunting camp. She might like to go hiking and camping, but she wouldn’t have anything to do with shooting or killing animals of any kind.”

“Do you own a horse?”

“No.” His tone reflected his impatience.

“Do you have a friend in Willow Springs or Hightower that owns a horse?”

He shook his head in disbelief. “Why are you asking me all these things?”

“Please answer the question, Mr. Vasquez,” Stella said, her tone mirroring his level of impatience.

“Yes, I have several friends in both places who own horses. What of it?”

“Do you know how your sister died?” Stella asked.

“I don’t. How many times do I have to tell you?”

Stella leaned back in her seat and paused for a moment. “She was shot.”

Vasquez appeared to take it hard. He bent forward, closing in on himself. Mattie noticed that the detective had withheld the exact cause of death: shot by an arrow.

“Wuh . . . was it an accident?” he asked with a slight stammer.

“That’s under investigation,” Stella said.

He bowed his head for a moment and then looked back at Stella. “Did she go hunting or something? Is that why you asked all those questions?”

“I can’t say at this time. Do you think it could be a possibility?”

“I don’t. But I can’t believe someone would shoot Adrienne on purpose. It must’ve been an accident.” He searched Stella’s face, his eyes turning fierce. “Is that what happened here? Did someone shoot her on purpose?”

“Like I said before, Mr. Vasquez, her death is under investigation.” Stella gave him a penetrating look. “Did you kill your sister?”

“My God! Absolutely not!”

“Would you be willing to take a polygraph?”

“If that would eliminate me as a suspect, yes. You should be finding the person who shot Adrienne, not wasting time on me.”

“I believe we can arrange for a polygraph by tomorrow. We’re holding you for possession of drug paraphernalia tonight. We’ve got a nice, clean cell you can sleep in.”

Belligerence came back into his face. “You’re making a mistake. Between this and police brutality, you’re gonna be sorry.”

“I’ll get Deputy Johnson to book him,” Mattie said, standing to leave the room.

After Johnson took Vasquez to the back, Stella looked at Mattie. “What do you think?” she asked.

“Convincing reactions,” Mattie said. “I’m not positive that he killed her.”

“Twisted story,” Stella said. “I’m not yet convinced that he didn’t.”

Cole drove through town in time to follow the school bus to his lane. He stopped his truck behind it, waiting for his kids to unload. After it pulled away, he turned in behind them, making Sophie hop with excitement when she saw him. Angie’s reaction was much less exuberant, but at least she gave a smile to her old dad.

He hit the button to roll down the window. “You girls want a ride?”

“Not supposed to ride with strangers,” Sophie said with a grin.

“I’m friends with your sister here,” he said, giving a nod to Angie.

“I can vouch for him,” Angie said, opening the passenger-side door. She boosted her sister up to help her clamber into the seat, Sophie’s backpack looking huge on her small frame, and then climbed up to join her. They settled into the bucket seat on the passenger side with Angie’s arms around Sophie while Cole drove slowly down the lane toward the house. It did Cole’s heart good to see them be playful with each other and to include him. He wished he didn’t have to do what he planned, but he decided he couldn’t avoid it. Why did parenting have to be so hard?

Cole parked under the cottonwood tree out front, and they all unloaded and trooped inside. While Cole and Sophie paused to strip off their coats, Angie headed toward the staircase. His suspicion somewhat confirmed, Cole decided to follow her rather than confront her in front of Mrs. Gibbs and Sophie.

“Go see if Mrs. Gibbs can help you get a snack in the kitchen,” he said to Sophie.

He took the stairs two at a time, hurrying to catch up to Angie before she could shut herself away in her bedroom. “Hold up, Angel,” he called after her retreating back. “I want to talk to you.”

She paused at her bedroom doorway, facing him with a frown. “Can it wait a minute, so I can put down my things?”

“Sure,” he said, coming close to the door so she’d be hard-pressed to shut it in his face.

Making an exasperated sound, she walked in and put her backpack on the bed. With her coat still on, she crossed her arms and faced him. “What do you want, Dad?” Her face and tone said she was none too pleased.

“Go ahead and take off your coat. I can wait a second.”

“Dad! What do you want?” If she’d been a few years younger, she would have stamped a foot.

Cole decided on the direct approach; it usually served him best. “Okay, Angela. No more games. I want to see what you wore to school today.”

She hugged her coat tightly closed. “Geez, Dad! What’s your problem?”

“Angela, let’s not quibble about this. I want to know if you wore the shirt that we told you not to wear.”

“What makes you think I did?”

“I don’t need to explain myself. Did you wear it?”

If possible, she clutched her coat even tighter. “What if I did?”

Her defiance was maddening. “From the way you’re acting, I’m going to assume that’s the case. It’s not acceptable for you to sneak around and disobey me.”

“Since when have you even cared what I wear, Dad? Why are you so interested all of a sudden?” Her eyes shot daggers at him.

“I care about you, Angela. And I don’t want others to think badly of you.”

“You never gave it a second thought until Mrs. Gibbs brought it up.”

She had him there. “Maybe so, but cut me some slack. Your mother always took care of your clothing. I’m not used to needing to do it.”

She raised her chin, showing the flushed skin on her neck. “Well, I don’t need your help. Go back to ignoring me like you’re used to.”

“I don’t want boys to get the wrong idea.”

“Maybe one of
them
will pay attention to me.”

Cole stopped his next angry retort and drew a breath. “Angela, why do you say things like that? What is it that makes you believe I don’t care about you?”

Tears filled her eyes and threatened to spill over. “It’s what you do, Dad.”

“I’m doing the best I can here. I had Tess schedule this hour so that I could be home to spend time with you kids after school.”

“Oh, good. Work us into your schedule.”

“Angela! That’s enough. It’s my work. It’s how I pay the bills.”

Her breath caught in a sob, tearing at Cole’s heart. He wanted to move toward her but stood rooted in the doorway. Would comforting her reinforce her misbehavior? What would Olivia do?

“Maybe I’ll go away like Mom. Or die like Grace and Adrienne. Then you won’t have to worry about trying to spend time with me,” Angela said.

Her words snatched his breath away. “You know that’s not what I want. Don’t even talk like that.”

She unzipped her coat, shrugged it off, and threw it on the bed. She wasn’t wearing the forbidden shirt, but the one she had on was just a scrap of a thing—low-cut, tight, and high enough to show glimpses of her belly.

“Where did you get that?” Cole said, stunned but thoroughly aware that she’d never worn this shirt before; he wouldn’t have missed it even during his most unconscious days last summer.

The tears had stopped, and she faced him with all the defiance she could gather. “I borrowed it from a friend.”

“Exactly which friend loaned it to you?”

She clamped her jaw, thinning her lips.

Cole felt his anger build. “Tomorrow morning, you’re going to show me what you have on before you leave this house.” He turned to go but stopped when another thought struck him. “And I’ll want to inspect your backpack, too.”

“Fine,” she said. “You’ve spent some time with us; you can go back to work now.”

“I don’t want any back talk either, Angela. Show some respect.”

Cole escaped from her bedroom before she could retort. Mrs. Gibbs looked up at him from the bottom of the staircase with a frown of concern on her face, not even trying to hide
that she’d been eavesdropping. Belle waited there beside her, giving him one slight tail wag before stopping altogether and standing rooted in confusion.

“I didn’t know you were upstairs with Angela just now, so I was going to ask her if she wanted a snack,” Mrs. Gibbs said.

Cole stomped down the stairway, brushing past her. “I’ll be back around six,” he said as he grabbed his coat and left the house. He climbed into his truck and slammed it into gear.

What the hell?
What was going on with Angela? Why was she acting like this all of a sudden? What was all this running away or dying talk about? He thought of the conversation he’d had with Mattie during their night up on the mountain. Maybe she had a good point after all. Maybe he needed to enlist the help of a good counselor.

He drove to the clinic where he greeted Tess and kept himself busy until his first late-afternoon client arrived. Sometime during his final hour of office visits, Cole took a call from Mattie between patients.

“I was thinking of you earlier,” he said as a greeting.

There was silence for a few seconds before she spoke. “Oh?”

“Yeah, I had a fight with Angela. She’s saying things I just don’t get. Maybe I should talk to that school counselor after all.”

“I recommend it . . . for sure. I hope you will.”

He paused, thinking her voice sounded tired. “Well, you didn’t call to listen to my problems. What can I do for you?”

“We have some information that tells us Adrienne might have been working with horses shortly before she was killed. We’re looking at your list of horse clients to see if any of them are close to the trailheads that led to her gravesite or the car site. Could you take a look at the list, too, and tell me if any of them have ever crossed your radar as either violent or cruel with animals?”

“I can tell you right now, I’m sure none of them have. The very fact that they were willing to have Adrienne do massage on their horses tips them into the kind and caring category. But I’ll have Tess call you with those located close to the trailheads.”

“Okay.” She paused. “You’re working late.”

“I am. I have a client up in a remote area, Dark Horse Stable, and it’s wreaking havoc with my schedule.” He had a thought. “It’s not even close to the areas you’re looking at. This woman is a new client, so I didn’t refer her to Adrienne. She’s just a very nice lady with a real sick horse.”

This time the pause was so long that Cole began to wonder if Mattie was still on the line. Finally, she spoke. “I appreciate your time.”

“Mattie . . . is everything all right?”

“Why do you ask?”

“I don’t know. You sound tired or something.”

“Everything’s fine. And I
am
tired. I’ll try to get some sleep tonight.”

“Didn’t you get a chance to catch up last night?”

Again, there was a pause. “Something came up. Look, I’ve gotta go. Thanks for your help.”

Her voice sounded strained, and if Cole didn’t know her better, he’d think she was fighting tears. But the Mattie he knew didn’t cry. He was able to slip in a good-bye just as she disconnected the call.

*

Mattie sat at her desk, struggling with the pain in her chest. She placed a hand over her heart.

Cole’s words about his new client had set up a wave of emotion she didn’t know how to deal with, but they couldn’t
be what caused this turmoil. Could it have been what her brother had said? Why was she such a mess?

Soon Tess called, giving her a list of three stables, none of which were owned by people she knew. Tess vouched for all of them, saying these clients were the “salt of the earth,” but Mattie still thought they should follow up. Since Adrienne’s clothing indicated she’d been working with horses the afternoon she’d been killed, she didn’t want to drop all the leads and focus only on Ramon Vasquez. Even though the evidence was stacking up against him, it was too early in the investigation to do that.

She went to join Stella in the office that Sheriff McCoy had assigned her. The detective was going over phone records, texts, and e-mails that they’d received from Adrienne’s service providers. Although Mattie’s shift had ended an hour earlier, she wanted to see if Stella thought she should follow up with the list of stables tonight.

Tapping on the door, she entered Stella’s office, Robo padding behind her.

Stella’s brow shot up when she looked up from her work. Nudging her reading glasses down on her nose, she peered over them and focused on Mattie’s face. “Your little scuffle this morning earned you a pretty good shiner.”

Mattie touched her bruised cheekbone gingerly. “I’ve had worse.”

“Sheriff McCoy said he sent Brody home, but he can’t afford to suspend him. He’s too short handed.”

“We have a lean team here. We need every man we’ve got.” Mattie felt that Brody’s behavior was out of line, but there was a small part of her that understood how upset he was. “I have three stables that are near the trailheads we’re looking at. Both Dr. Walker and Tess say these owners don’t classify as people
you’d suspect as killers, but we might still want to follow up. Do you think I should do that tonight?”

Stella frowned, glancing back down at the pile of papers in front of her. “No, I want to talk to them myself. I have a few more phone numbers that I need to cross match and connect with names. Do you have phone numbers assigned to that list of clients?”

“I do.”

“Great. I can use that,” Stella said, taking the list from her. “The TracFone number that our anonymous tipster called in on doesn’t appear on her phone call history. But there are still a lot of numbers here that I’m trying to assign names to.”

“Do you want some help?”

“No, not yet. If I need another set of eyes, I’ll keep yours in mind.” She squinted one eye. “That is, if you can still see out of that one.”

Mattie shook her head and offered a thin smile. “The call to Green Thumb Organics didn’t net anything. Jack Kelly wasn’t working today. I tried a home phone number, but no answer.”

“Will he be in tomorrow?”

“Supposed to be.”

“Try again in the morning,” Stella said.

“All right. If you don’t need me for anything else, I should clock out.”

“Yeah, that’s fine. But I have a favor to ask. I’ll be here at least another hour. Could I crash on your sofa for the night? I need to be back here early in the morning.”

Typically, Mattie wouldn’t want a house guest, but Stella had stayed one night during their last investigation, and tonight the distraction might be the thing she needed to stay out of her own head. “Sure. Just come when you’re done.”

“Can I pick up some food? Maybe a pizza from that little hut beside the road?”

“The Pizza Palace. Whatever you want. I don’t usually keep a lot of food at my house.”

“I’ll bring enough for two.”

“Sounds good. I’ll see you when you’re finished.”

Rainbow was still at her post when Mattie passed through the lobby, so she stopped to say good-night. “What did you think of Ramon Vasquez’s voice?” Mattie asked her. “Could he be the one who called in the anonymous tip?”

“It’s hard to say, but I remember a voice that wasn’t quite so deep, more of a Spanish accent.”

“I suppose he could have disguised his voice on the phone,” Mattie said. “In fact, I assume that anyone would.”

“Yeah, that’s probably true.” Rainbow looked distressed. “I wish I could be more help.”

“Don’t worry. If he’s the one who called, we’ll figure it out.”

After saying good-bye, Mattie clocked out, went outside to her SUV, and loaded Robo into the back. She settled into the driver’s seat but hesitated before twisting the key to start the engine. She hated to go home where she’d be alone with her thoughts. She decided to go check in on Brody. She wanted to replace Robo’s last memory of him with something better than the violent scuffle he’d had with Mattie. A patrol dog with a grudge didn’t make for a very good team player.

She turned the key and drove to Brody’s house, a small, clapboard two-story on the edge of town. The windows were dark. His cruiser was parked in front, so she pulled up beside it. She exited the car, taking Robo with her. After stepping up on the small, concrete porch, she knocked on the door. When there was no answer, she turned and studied his cruiser,
wondering if he’d gone somewhere on foot. Deciding to check around back, she told Robo to heel and went around the side of the house. In the well-lit backyard, she found an old vintage car—from the thirties or forties?—propped up on cement blocks. A pair of legs clad in grease-stained jeans were poking out from under it, and she assumed they belonged to Brody. A small space heater glowed, sending radiant heat under the car.