Margaret Mizushima
Burning Ridge
To my daughters and son-in-law,
Sarah, Beth, and Adam
ONE
Saturday Night, Mid-May
If Deputy Mattie Cobb had eaten supper at home with her K-9 partner, Robo, she wouldn’t have noticed the rig parked illegally across the street from the Main Street Diner. But there it was, a charcoal gray truck and horse trailer parked parallel in front of the Watering Hole Bar and Grill, taking up more than their share of the diagonal parking spaces. A rack full of rifles filled the back window of the truck. California license plates, probably someone passing through town.
Being off duty didn’t really matter in Timber Creek, Colorado. The sheriff’s department was small enough that the entire staff needed to assume they were on call any time of the day or night. Besides, Mattie felt more ownership of this town than some, since it was the only place in which she could ever remember living. She’d grown up here, she’d struggled to survive here, and she now worked here to protect citizens, especially kids, from threats that lurked outside the sheltering mountains of their little community.
But this vehicle didn’t pose much of a threat. As Mattie stood and stared at it, wondering if she should write a citation, one of the horses inside the trailer neighed. Four horses tied on the near side peered out, shifting their considerable weight enough to make the vehicle rock.
When Mattie’d left work, she’d agreed to meet her friend Detective Stella LoSasso for a bite to eat. Main Street consisted of only six blocks, and it was hard enough for businesses there to thrive without the sheriff’s department ticketing their customers. The rig’s owner had probably stopped for dinner and would be leaving soon. She decided to let it go until after she ate. If parking filled up and it became a problem, she’d deal with it then.
Inside the diner, Mattie found Stella already seated at a table near the window, her head bent over the one-page, laminated menu. The detective had taken down the ponytail she wore for work, and the slanting rays of early evening sunlight touched the highlights in her auburn hair. She glanced up and made a little grimace as Mattie sat down. “I don’t know why I keep thinking I’ll find something new on this thing. I have it memorized by now.”
Mattie smiled her agreement. “I’ll just have my usual.”
Stella went back to frowning at the menu. “Burger, fries, and a vanilla shake. I swear, Mattie, I don’t know how you stay in shape eating the dinner of champions as often as you do.”
“Running up and down the hills with Robo every morning before work.”
“Yeah, but still. It’s all about nutrition, girl.”
Mattie eyed the empty beer bottle in front of her friend. “And the nutritional value of your favorite beverage would be?”
The waitress approached to take their order.
Stella gave Mattie one of her too-sweet smiles, picked up her empty beer bottle, and tapped its end against the tabletop. “I’ll have the chef salad. And go ahead and bring me another beer.”
After Mattie ordered and the waitress left, Stella settled back in her chair. “It’s been a while since we had a chance to catch up. Have you been in touch with your brother lately?”
Although Mattie didn’t like to share information about her family, Stella had become a trusted friend, and Mattie felt safe with her. “We’ve been talking on the phone once a week for about a month now.”
Stella paused while the waitress set down their drinks and then left. “And?”
“It’s been okay.” Her vague reply hid the trepidation she’d felt upon contacting Willie and inviting him back into her life. “We’re talking about getting together some time. Maybe meet halfway between Los Angeles and here, like in Vegas. In about a month.”
“Sometime in June? We’re usually not too busy then. You should be able to get the time off.” Stella gave her one of her penetrating looks. “How do you feel about seeing him again after all these years?”
“Nervous. I mean, it’s been almost twenty-five years, you know? And our lives are so different.” Truthfully, she feared Willie might say more that would dredge up memories that could haunt her for months.
“Has he ever heard from your mother?”
When Mattie was six and William eight, their father had beaten their mother badly enough for her to be hospitalized. He’d been sent to prison, only for their mother to abandon them when she was discharged from the hospital. They’d been raised in separate foster homes and had lost touch with each other until seven months ago, when Willie called out of the blue, releasing memories of abuse that Mattie had repressed for years.
Mattie reached for her shake. “He hasn’t heard from our mom either, but he’d like to help me look for her. Since Willie is older, maybe he can remember something that can point us in the right direction.”
Stella adopted an innocent expression as she changed the subject. “How are things between you and Cole?”
Warmth crept upward from Mattie’s throat. The local veterinarian, Cole Walker, and his two daughters had become an even more important part of her life during the past month. “We … uh … we’re getting along fine.”
Stella suppressed a snort of laughter. “Well, that says it all. You’ve got a definite tell behind that poker face. Do I sense romance in the air?”
“We’re taking it slow.” Mattie couldn’t help but smile. Thinking of Cole, Angela, and Sophie gave her heart a much-needed lift. “We’re with the kids most of the time.”
“And when you’re not?”
Thoughts of snuggling on the couch while they talked and good night kisses made her blush deepen. “You know, Detective, some things might not be your business.”
Stella laughed full out. “Okay, Mattie. I’ll let you plead the fifth.”
Mattie sipped her shake, hoping to damper the heat that infused her face. Despite guarding her feelings, she’d surprised herself by falling in love with Cole. She sensed that he might feel the same, though neither of them had said the words.
Flashing lights from down the street caught Mattie’s eye, and she leaned forward to watch a Timber Creek sheriff’s cruiser pull up and park across the street. Her radar spiked when Deputy Garcia exited the vehicle and sprinted toward the bar. “Garcia must’ve been called to the Watering Hole. I’ll go see if he needs backup.”
Vaguely aware that Stella was speaking to the waitress, Mattie dashed out the door and headed to her SUV. She was still wearing her uniform, but she’d left her utility belt locked in her car, which held some vital peacekeeping equipment. It took mere seconds to unlock the door, strap on the belt, and zip across the street.
When she cracked open the bar door, raucous cries and shouts greeted her, and she knew she was in for it. Two burly men dressed in western shirts and jeans were pounding their fists into each other’s faces while local citizens cowered against the walls. A small woman, her long black hair worn in a braid down her back, jumped onto one of the men’s backs and rode him like a bronco, boxing his ears while he roared and whirled away trying to shake her off. A third big cowboy with a bushy red beard had grabbed Garcia by the shirtfront and was yelling and shaking a finger in his face.
She radioed dispatch to request help, then pulled her tactical baton from its strap and snapped it into extension, feeling it click into place.
“Sheriff’s department! Halt!” she shouted as the guy with the red beard threw a punch at Garcia’s face. Everyone ignored her, so she dove in and used her baton to whack Redbeard on the muscle at the back of his calf.