She was opening her mouth to answer when a sharp crack echoed from a distance, coming from the direction of the meadow. Mattie whirled to look, but forest and slopes hid the meadow and the lower part of Redstone Ridge from view. “Rifle shot?”
“Sounds like it.”
Brody came running down the trail behind them, holding his rifle ready. “You two okay?”
“It came from farther away.” Mattie pointed toward Redstone Ridge. “From over there, I think.”
They took off toward the horses, Mattie and Robo outdistancing Cole and Brody. Handler and dog didn’t ease up when they reached the horses, but kept running down the trail toward the meadow. Cole knew he couldn’t keep up on foot, so he snatched the ends of Duke’s reins and jerked the slipknot free from the branch they’d been tied to. He swung into the saddle with one smooth vault. Brody opted to go horseback as well, slinging his rifle onto his back and mounting up quickly. They headed after Mattie.
Cole nudged Duke into a fast trot, cantering when the rocky trail allowed. As the trail dipped and rose, circling around boulders, trees, and other obstacles, he caught glimpses of Mattie ahead. They were catching up to her.
“Cobb, wait up,” Brody shouted when they drew close enough for her to hear.
She slowed and looked behind her. Robo dashed on ahead.
“Don’t enter the meadow alone,” Brody called.
“I won’t,” she yelled back before turning and following Robo.
With his heartbeat thudding at his throat, Cole hoped she would slow down and stay back, but he knew she wouldn’t. It wasn’t in her nature. K-9 handlers were injured on the job at a higher percentage than regular officers. The very nature of their work—following their partners out front while they chased the bad guys—made them particularly vulnerable to ambush and sniper shots. He hated that about her job.
The trees thinned and when they came to the edge of the meadow, Mattie and Robo were waiting.
“See anything?” Brody said as they came to a stop.
Mattie was scanning the tree line on the other side of the large, empty meadow. “Not yet.”
Cole removed his binoculars from their pouch and focused in on the ridge. He scanned back and forth, noting the sheep had all disappeared. A flash of scarlet on a patch of green shale caught his eye.
He homed in on the bright color and found its source. A sheep carcass, lying in a heap, halfway down the slope. Fresh kill. The carcass bore a scar on its shoulder that Cole recognized.
He handed the binoculars to Brody. “Dead mountain sheep, halfway up the ridge at two o’clock. It looks like the old ram with the full curl that I saw this morning.”
Brody passed the binoculars to Mattie, and she focused on the dead ram. “I might be able to climb up to where it is. Maybe Robo could get a scent of the person who killed it and follow.”
Brody wore a grim expression. “Not within our purview. The gravesite is our top priority. Let Ed Lovejoy handle this when he comes back.”
Mattie gave the binoculars to Cole and looked at Brody. “Strange coincidence. You have to wonder if this shooter had something to do with our dead guy back there.”
Cole zoomed in on the carcass again. Shale and slide rock littered the area below it, creating hazardous footing. A more suitable pathway lay farther below, and as he followed it downward with the lenses, he figured the shooter could have used it to descend from the cliff face and disappear into the forest. He told the others what he was thinking. “We might be able to pick up a scent on that trail.”
“I doubt if we can climb that shale to get to the ram, but if we go up partway, we might be able to see where the shooter is, or at least where he’s headed,” Mattie said.
Brody thought about it. “All right, see what you can find. One of us needs to go back to the gravesite and make sure this isn’t some ruse to lead us away from it.”
“I’ll go with Mattie,” Cole said. “You can keep watch.”
Brody nodded.
“Robo, heel.” Mattie jogged off with Robo at heel, skirting the edge of the meadow, avoiding the soggy middle.
Cole followed, keeping Duke at a trot in order to stay up with them. It took the better part of a quarter hour to make it to the other side. Mattie led them to the grove of pine where Tucker York had been earlier. Cole followed her to the base of the rocky, steep slope and dismounted, taking his binoculars with him.
“Let’s climb here.” Mattie headed uphill with Robo, leaving Cole to keep up as best he could. His slick soled cowboy boots were ill designed for this activity, while the rugged boots on Mattie’s feet that concerned him earlier now gave her an edge.
By the time they’d worked their way up about a hundred yards, he was drenched with sweat and puffing hard. Relieved, he saw that Mattie had stopped, and as he climbed toward her, he could hear her heaving for air, too.
She leaned against a pile of boulders, using it to brace herself against the slope’s steep angle. At this vantage point, she held one hand above her eyes, shielding them from the penetrating angle of the lowering sun’s glare, and scanned the meadow and forest below. Cole handed her the binoculars.
“Thanks,” she said, raising them to her eyes. She adjusted the focus and continued scanning the area. Cole searched with bare eyes but turned to watch her face when he heard her breath catch. She caught her lower lip between her teeth as she focused and rescanned, the binoculars trained in a direction that appeared to be the meadow.
“Take a look, Cole,” she said, handing him the glasses. “The far edge of the meadow, about one o’clock. What do you see?”
He expected to see a human and was surprised that she was directing him back toward the area from which they’d come. Had they missed something when they’d rushed through there a half hour ago?
He swept the edge of the meadow, focusing on the ground. And then he saw it—the pattern she must be asking him to confirm. “Ovals at the edge of the trees. Depressions in the soil filled with darker grass. Is that what you see?”
She nodded, and her face was grim. “What does that make you think of?”
“Something buried. Other graves?”
“Let’s take note of where the irregularities are and get a closer look when we go down.” She scanned the area between the dead ram and their position. “I don’t think the shooter came up this far. We would have spotted him before he could get down.”
“Maybe he took a shot from the pine down below.”
She absently rubbed Robo’s ears while he leaned against her. “Let’s go back, and I’ll see if Robo can pick up a scent.”
Cole focused the binoculars on the ram and then swept them upward toward the crags where he’d seen the sheep earlier. At this shorter distance, he thought he could see a trail leading away from the ledge. “I think the guy could have been on top when he shot that ram.”
Mattie took the binoculars and focused on the cliff where Cole was pointing.
“I think he could have come over from the back side of the ridge. And escaped that way, too,” Cole said.
“What’s on the other side?”
“Nothing but wilderness. Lots of game trails. It’s easier to get up on top from that side rather than trying to climb up this cliff face here.”
“How long would it take for us to get around to the back side?”
“At least a couple hours. We’d have to ride down to the fork in the trail and go around. And we’re almost out of daylight.”
Mattie frowned with disappointment. “I’ll see if Robo can pick up a scent down at the base of the ridge, but I think you’re right about our shooter being up on top.”
“I’ll contact Ed Lovejoy about this when we get back to town,” Cole said, pausing to think. “If I can come back up tomorrow, I’ll ride to the backside of the ridge and try to get to that ram so I can post him. See if I can retrieve a slug from his carcass. I’m not sure how much help that will be, but it’s the best I can do for the poor fella now.”