Stalking Ground (22 page)

“True.”

Stella pursed her lips, thinking. Then she took another drink of beer. “Thank God that Adrienne knew the two of them were half-siblings. Incest would have been a tough mistake to get over. What if Vasquez lied about that, and the two of them really did sleep together?”

Mattie gagged as she tried to swallow the bite of pizza she had in her mouth. She put her slice back on her plate.

From her end of the couch, Stella studied her reaction. “You look like someone poisoned your pizza, Mattie. What’s bothering you?”

Mattie shook her head, not sure what to say, not sure if she could even talk.

“You’ve looked sick off and on all day.”

She shrugged and picked up her tea to take a sip.

“Did you get in touch with your brother?”

Stricken, Mattie stared at Stella, wondering how she could guess.

“You look like you did the night you told me about your family. What’s going on?”

Mattie curled her hands around the tea mug and held on tightly. “I’m not sure I can talk about it.”

“Something’s eating you up inside. It might do some good to talk. Maybe I can help you put it into perspective.”

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Willie called last night. Turns out he’s working a twelve-step program.
Drug rehab. He’s at the stage of wanting to apologize for his transgressions.”

“Okay?”

“I didn’t get it when he apologized to me. Didn’t know how he might have hurt me. I mean, we were just kids. It was our dad that hurt us.”

Stella nodded, her eyes sending encouragement.

“He said he should have stopped our dad from coming into my bedroom . . . at night.” Mattie choked, and a wave of nausea hit her.

“Excuse me,” she said, getting up and heading toward the bathroom. Robo jumped up to follow her and wouldn’t stay outside the door. She had to let him come inside with her, so she leaned against the cool tile on the wall taking huge gulps of air while he pressed against her legs. After a few minutes, her stomach settled, and she tentatively bent to pat him on the head to reassure him. She splashed cold water on her face and returned to the living room with Robo at heel.

Stella remained on the sofa, and she searched Mattie’s face as she took her seat. “Do you want me to fix you some more tea?”

Mattie shook her head. “I’ll be all right.”

Stella sat in silence, her lips pursed.

“I don’t know whether to believe it. If he molested me, I don’t remember it. But . . .”

Stella raised her brows. “But?”

Mattie took another deep breath. “I get these flashbacks. Just a bit here and there, nothing clear. I don’t know what to believe.”

“What do you remember?”

“Something he said. Not to tell or he’d kill my mother.”

Mattie fixed her eyes on Stella’s as if grasping for a lifeline. Stella didn’t let her down; her gaze remained true and didn’t waver.

“I don’t know whether it’s my imagination or not,” Mattie said. “I don’t know what to believe.”

“You know that some victims of childhood abuse dissociate while it’s happening, right?”

Mattie nodded.

“Could that be the case with you?”

Mattie shrugged, not sure if she wanted to admit to the possibility.

Stella paused, still holding eye contact. Finally, Mattie looked away.

“Mattie, I’m not an expert in these things, but I’ll tell you this. Don’t waste a lot of time denying it. The sooner you accept that it could be true, the sooner you can get some help.”

“I don’t even want to think about it.” Robo had settled on the floor at her feet, and she leaned forward to stroke the fur on his head.

“I understand. But I don’t think it’s healthy to bury it, do you?”

She couldn’t disagree, so she said nothing.

“You should work with someone, Mattie. Someone who can help you.”

Exhaustion pressed down on her; she wanted to curl up on the sofa and go to sleep. “I can’t talk about this anymore tonight. I’ve got to go to bed.”

She stood and turned away, Robo dogging her tracks as she headed for her room.

“Sleep well, Mattie,” Stella called after her. “Things will get better in time.”

Mattie entered her bedroom, closing the door behind her and her dog. She opened her window an inch, climbed into bed fully clothed, and turned out the light. The last thing she heard upon closing her eyes was Robo’s sigh as he settled.

Tuesday

When Mattie returned from taking Robo on his morning run, Stella had already left, leaving folded blankets and sheets on the sofa. She fed Robo and grabbed an energy bar for herself, grateful that the nausea from yesterday seemed to have let up. The sleep of exhaustion apparently had done some good. She hurried to shower so she wouldn’t arrive at the office too far behind Stella. Dressed in a khaki coverall with a Timber Creek County Sheriff Department emblem on the sleeve, she left the house well before the usual time, Robo cheerfully running ahead, eager to jump into their vehicle.

As she clocked in, Brody approached her. Apparently he’d come in before his shift started, too, not unusual for him. He frequently came in early and stayed late even though he clocked in and out when he was supposed to.

“You’re with the sheriff and detective today,” he said by way of turning over her duty assignment. “They’re already in the briefing room.”

“And you?”

He locked eyes with her. “I’m out.”

So they’d decided to leave him out of the inner circle of the investigation. Probably the right move after the incident with Vasquez. “We’ll touch base later,” she said.

He nodded, giving her another long stare before turning away. What did that mean? She’d had enough experience with Brody sending her angry and resentful looks that she knew this one didn’t fall into those categories. Was he asking for her to pass on information to him?

She walked past Rainbow, exchanging greetings with her.

“There’s coffee and donuts in the briefing room already,” Rainbow said. “I’m supposed to tell you to go in as soon as you can.”

“Thanks.”

When she entered the briefing room, Stella studied her and then nodded, as if she’d passed muster.

“Come have a seat, Deputy,” McCoy said, pouring himself a cup of coffee from an insulated carafe and grabbing a donut. He waved toward the food and drink. “Help yourself.”

“I was going over these phone records with Sheriff McCoy. I showed him the patterns I mentioned to you last night,” Stella said, moving her finger across the top page in a stack. “Here, you can see what I’m talking about. I have the numbers that we’re interested in highlighted in different colors, and this is the key for whom each number belongs to.” She picked up a separate page and set it beside the stack for reference.

Mattie scanned the page, glancing at the reference list for orientation, noting the frequent calling back and forth between Adrienne and Vasquez. She removed the top page to expose the one below. “Did you find phone calls to or from Adrienne’s old boyfriend, Jim Cameron, or her past employer, Scott Stroud?”

“No. Neither one of them had any contact with her by phone or e-mail. I think we can set them aside, at least for now.” Stella tapped a set of three numbers she’d highlighted in yellow on the list of Adrienne’s phone calls. “This number
is worth our attention. It started showing up about four weeks ago. I used the cross directory to match the number with a name. It belongs to a landline assigned to a place called Dark Horse Stable. It isn’t on our list of horse clients that we got from Dr. Walker.”

Mattie remembered the name.
The nice lady with the sick horse
. “He mentioned the place to me yesterday afternoon. Said it’s a new client, not near the trailheads we’re looking at. It’s still in a remote mountain location though. Adrienne didn’t get a referral from him, and he thought the owner wouldn’t have known her.”

Stella nodded, thoughtful. “The only reason I think it’s worth looking at is because she had horsehair on her clothing. These calls are spaced out, like they might have been setting up appointments weekly. And the last one was the Monday before our victim disappeared.”

McCoy nodded. “I agree that it’s worth following up. Do you plan to call them?” he asked Stella.

“I will. As soon as we finish up here.”

Mattie felt the urge to meet this woman, go visit the property in person. “I’d like to go there, interview the owner face to face.”

McCoy looked at Stella, as if deferring to her while Stella seemed to be thinking it over.

She raised an eyebrow. “That’s an awfully long drive.”

Her comment forced Mattie to think it through. She knew her need was more than idle curiosity. “Cole Walker has been going up the past few days to treat a sick horse for the owner, and she has yet to tell him that she’d been working with Adrienne. Surely she would have brought that up. And if she set up an appointment during that phone call last Monday, I think we
need to know what day it was for. I feel better about doing this interview while we can read her face and her body language.”

“You’ve got a point,” Stella said. “We’ve got good circumstantial evidence against Vasquez at the moment, but it’s best if we still look at everyone. I’ve got an examiner bringing a polygraph machine over this morning to interview him, and I’ve already drafted the questions I want to use. Can we get back here by eleven?”

“That should be no problem,” Mattie said.

“Then I’ll go with you.”

They ended the meeting, and Stella followed Mattie and Robo to their SUV. Once they were buckled in, Stella gave Mattie one of her piercing looks. “Are you feeling better this morning?”

“I am, but I don’t want to talk about it.”

Stella looked out the window while Mattie fired up the engine and recorded the time in her trip log. In silence, they drove out of Timber Creek toward Dark Horse Stable.

Putting on her sunglasses, Mattie glanced at Stella. “Someone’s going to have to keep Deputy Brody in the loop.”

Stella nodded. “I’ll take care of it.”

And that appeared to be all they had to say to each other. The silence deepened as Mattie followed GPS guidance and turned the Explorer onto the county road that led into the mountains. When it came to not talking, she could outlast anyone, and she felt more comfortable with stillness than conversation.

After driving another forty-five minutes and following the road ever upward, they breached the final hill before going down into a draw that sheltered the stable. Forest surrounded them, making it impossible to catch more than a glimpse of the barn roof through the trees. Stella finally spoke. “This place is way the hell out of the way, isn’t it?”

“It is.”

“Where is the spot you found Adrienne’s car in relationship to this place?”

“About twenty miles away and on a different county road south of here. No road connecting this place and that. You have to go back to the main highway and then south.”

Mattie turned into the lane, taking the fork that led toward the barn.

“Someone’s got money,” Stella observed as they drove past the huge log house.

“I’d say so.”

Stella frowned. “Let’s take Robo when we go inside.”

Mattie parked next to the barn’s entrance. A Doberman lunged against a chain, barking and looking like something she didn’t want Robo to tangle with. “All right. But let’s get past that guard dog as quick as we can.”

Mattie gave Robo a drink of water, put him into his working collar, and unloaded him. They weren’t on an official sweep, so she refrained from revving him up with her voice. The guard dog went crazy, snarling and snapping, and she kept one eye on him to make sure his chain held while she led Robo into the barn. Robo darted glances at him, too, but for the most part did what he was trained to do: ignore other dogs. Mattie couldn’t fault him for watching his own back.

When they reached the dim alleyway, Mattie let Robo’s leash go slack, but he stayed close by her side at heel.
Either he’s getting too well trained to search without command, or there’s nothing here that sparks his interest
.

A man of Hispanic descent was mucking out a stall. He stopped and stared, his eyes taking in Mattie and Stella with a glance, fastening on Robo for a few seconds, and then darting down the alleyway. The fearful expression on his face seemed
to indicate he might be looking for help. He had on worn denims, a sweat-stained straw cowboy hat, and cowboy boots.

“Hello.” Mattie went on to introduce herself and Stella.

He shook his head, indicating he didn’t comprehend, so Mattie switched to Spanish, repeated the introduction, and asked him his name.

“Juan Fiero.” He clutched the pitchfork and averted his gaze when she offered a handshake but then took hers in a limp grasp. The proximity brought a whiff of stale cigarette smoke on his breath.

“I’ll get the boss,” he said in Spanish, turning on his heel and heading down the alleyway.

Mattie exchanged a glance with Stella as he left. “Cowboy boots and a cigarette smoker,” she muttered.

“You’ve just described about half the cowboys in Colorado,” Stella responded, keeping her voice low. “But I get what you’re saying.”

A beautiful, petite woman with black hair and dark eyes hurried toward them in lithe strides while Juan disappeared through another door down the way. She wore riding breeches and a fitted brown jacket that flattered her form. No wonder Cole seemed to be taken with her.

She introduced herself as Carmen Santiago, returning Mattie’s handshake with a firm grip. “What a beautiful shepherd,” she said, bending toward Robo while looking at Mattie. “May I pet him?”

A glance at Robo showed him alert and receptive, ears pricked as he watched the new person. “Yes, he won’t mind,” Mattie said. “It’s okay, Robo.”

“What happened to his shoulder?”

“Got in a fight,” Mattie said, not wanting to get into details.

“Oh my, you beautiful young man. You shouldn’t do that kind of thing,” Carmen murmured while petting Robo and setting his tail in motion. She straightened. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Mattie noticed that her smile seemed warm and genuine.

“We’re here to talk with you about Adrienne Howard,” Stella said.

The smile dropped from Carmen’s face, replaced by a frown of concern. “I read in the paper that she died last week. A tragedy.”

“Did you know her?” Stella asked.

“Yes. She was doing massage on some of my horses, although she’d only come up here three times. I didn’t know her well.”

“When did you last speak with her?” Stella asked.

She seemed to search her memory. “I’m not sure. I think it was Monday or Tuesday of last week.”

“What did you talk about?”

“We made an appointment for her to come back. I train racehorses, and I decided to make massage a part of my program. I didn’t have enough time or visits to evaluate the value of that decision.”

Mattie remembered Cole saying that employing a massage therapist to work on a horse tipped the owner into the kind and caring category. She hated to admit it, but so far this woman seemed to fit the mold.

“What day did you schedule Ms. Howard’s return appointment?” Stella asked.

“For Friday. It was the same day I read about her death in the paper.” Sorrow touched her face. “That was also the day my stallion, Diablo, got sick. Such a bad day.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Mattie said. “How is your horse now?”

“Not well. Dr. Walker is . . . Do you know him?” She looked at Mattie.

“I do.”

“Is he good at his business?” she asked, a frown of concern creasing her brow.

“I think so. Everyone says so,” Mattie said.

“Dr. Walker is taking care of Diablo, but he’s not sure what’s wrong. We’re treating symptoms as they arise.” She shook her head. “My horse doesn’t seem to be getting any better.”

Mattie could relate to the woman’s concern for her animal. “I hope things turn around soon.”

Carmen nodded, giving a sad, resigned smile.

“Did Ms. Howard say anything to you about her plans for Wednesday when you spoke with her?” Stella asked.

“No, not at all. She offered a Friday appointment time, and I took it.”

“Did she ever speak about plans for her time off on Wednesday afternoon or another client stable that she might visit?”

Carmen shook her head slowly while thinking. “No. I’m sorry, but I don’t know anything regarding her schedule or her plans.”

“Did your employee, Mr. Fiero, meet Ms. Howard?” Stella asked.

Carmen lifted a hand in a graceful gesture of correction. “I guess you could say they met, although not formally. I worked with Adrienne on the horses while Juan held them or led them to the stocks.”

Mattie thought it could be considered odd that the hired man wasn’t introduced to Adrienne, but possibly not, considering the language barrier. “Did they share any conversations?” she asked.

“Juan doesn’t speak English. As far as I know, Adrienne didn’t appear to speak Spanish, so I would guess not,” Carmen said.

“Could we talk to him?” Stella asked.

Mattie was glad that the detective hadn’t decided to dismiss her concern about boots and cigarettes.

“But he doesn’t speak English,” Carmen said.

“I can translate,” Mattie said.

Carmen looked at her and nodded. “Then of course. I’ll go get him.”

As she left, Mattie noticed Robo sniffing at the doorway of the stall Juan had been cleaning. Spotting a cigarette butt, she snatched a plastic baggie from her utility belt, turned it inside out, and picked the butt off the ground without touching it with her hand. After zipping the bag shut, she stuffed it into her pocket. She also saw where Juan had left a boot print, clear and clean. Mattie took out her pen and laid it on the ground beside the print.

“I’m going to take a picture of this, just in case,” she told Stella, taking her phone out to snap the photo. By the time Carmen returned with Juan, both phone and pen were back inside her pocket.

The hired man trailed behind Carmen. His eyes darted from Mattie to Stella, looking like a mouse caught in a dodgy situation between two cats.

Ears pricked, Robo took a step toward Fiero as he approached, and the man froze, eyeing her dog. Mattie took note of Robo’s reaction, wondering if there was something about the man’s scent that alerted him.

In Spanish, Mattie told Juan that they would like to ask him a few questions. At that point, she assumed the role of translator, allowing Stella to take over.

“We need to talk to you about Adrienne Howard, Mr. Fiero,” Stella said. “I understand you worked with her here on the horses.”