A crow cawed from the top of a lodgepole pine off to the right and then swooped down in front of Mountaineer, soaring along the trail before beating its wings to land in a spruce on their left. The trail wound between huge boulders, which rose up as if to block their escape. Cole cringed as he watched Angela disappear into the split, imagining some human monster jumping out to snatch her away. He nudged Duke to quicken his step through the boulders, and he released his breath when he saw her moving safely down the trail ahead of him on the other side.
The ride downhill seemed to take forever. At last they reached a spot where there was a vantage point overlooking the parking lot at the trailhead.
“Stop here for a minute,” he called to Angela.
She reined in her horse and he drew up beside her. Honey edged in beside Duke and stopped, crowding near.
Although the parking lot was still over a mile away, from up here he had a clear view of it. Rolling forest stretched off to the horizon in every direction, with the tallest mountains behind him.
There were two other rigs parked in the lot beside his, rigs that hadn’t been there when they’d unloaded this morning. Cole took out his binoculars and glassed the pickups and trailers, but they didn’t tell him much. One was a forest-green truck pulling a long, silver, four-horse trailer, and the other a dark blue pickup with a white, two-horse trailer hitched behind it. He didn’t recognize either of them. Could one or both belong to the person who dumped the body?
He put away the field glasses and made a decision. If there were newcomers on the trail, they’d be ahead, not behind.
“Angie, can you take Sophie on the saddle in front of you?”
“Sure.”
He dismounted and reached toward Sophie. “Come here, Little Bit. I’ve got you,” he said as she hesitated before allowing him to lift her from the saddle. He hefted Sophie up high so that Angela could grasp her and help settle her into their shared seat. The saddle accommodated the two skinny kids well, and Sophie would probably be more comfortable here than sharing a saddle with him.
Cole stepped back up into his saddle. “I’ll take the lead now, Angie.”
Reining Duke onto the trail, he noticed Honey try to take second position. “Go ahead and get right behind me, Angel. Make Honey follow us. Stay close to me.”
Angela nudged Mountaineer into second place, jostling the mare back into third on the narrow trail. The docile mare accepted her position and didn’t try to push forward.
“Do we know who the trailers belong to, Dad?” Angela asked, fear evident in her tone.
“I don’t, sweetheart, but I’m sure everything will be okay.”
He glanced behind to give the girls a reassuring smile, but saw that Sophie was nibbling her thumbnail. Not a good sign.
Whenever Cole reached a gap in the trees, he strained to scout the trail ahead. It crisscrossed the mountain at this point, traversing the steep grade in a series of switchbacks. This afforded him an occasional peek at the trail below.
Soon he saw them—two men together on horseback, heading up the trail. His body tensed. Should he leave the kids here and ride down to meet these men? Or should they stick together in case someone was coming from behind, too?
He recognized one of the horses before he recognized the rider. It was a big sorrel gelding with a wide white blaze and three white stockings. The large man who wore the broad-brimmed Stetson and sat astride the familiar gelding would be its owner, Ed Lovejoy, the local wildlife manager who was leading the mountain sheep relocation project and who was also one of Cole’s clients. He breathed a sigh of relief and reined Duke over at the nearest switchback. “I know one of these guys, kids. Let’s stop here and wait for them.”
Ed’s mouth turned up at the corners in a tight-lipped smile of recognition as he drew near, and then he spat a stream of saliva, which was darkened by the pinch of snuff that bulged beneath his bottom lip. He had unusual grey-blue eyes and a ruddy complexion that looked like he suffered from chronic sunburn despite the hat that covered his sandy hair. As he pulled his horse to a stop, Cole caught a whiff of the mint-flavored tobacco, a scent that reminded him of his dad.
“Doc Walker.” Ed greeted him with barely moving lips as he spoke around the wad of chew. “You been up to check the site?”
“We have. I suppose that’s where you’re headed.”
“That’s right.” Ed turned in his saddle, cocking one hip so that he could gesture toward the tall, lean man who’d pulled up behind him. “This is Tucker York from the state office in Denver. He’s going to be supervising the project.”
Cole tipped his head in a nod as the two of them exchanged hellos. He got an impression of keen brown eyes that assessed him from under a broad-brimmed felt hat. A man that looked to be in his fifties, Tucker York wore the standard Colorado Parks and Wildlife khaki uniform. Turning back to Ed, Cole said, “I’m hoping you can help out with a problem we’ve discovered up above.”
Ed raised a brow.
“Our dog found some partial human remains at the site.”
Now both eyebrows raised in shock. “Human remains?”
Cole nodded. “I need you to turn back and go down to the trailhead to keep everyone out until I return with the sheriff. It’s a crime scene up there, and we need to stay out of it.”
York spoke up. “What did you find?”
“Our dog brought us a boot with a foot inside.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Did you find a body?”
“I have the kids with me. My first priority is to get them back home. Then I’ll take the boot to the sheriff’s office.”
Both York and Ed peered around Cole, their eyes drawn to the bag tied on Honey’s saddle.
“You’re right,” York said. “We need to secure the area. We’ll go on up and take care of it.”
“I think the sheriff would want you to stay clear of the area until he arrives,” Cole said. “And it could be dangerous.”
“We’ve got rifles.”
Cole saw that they did, in scabbards attached to their saddles. He crossed his arms on his saddle horn and leaned forward. “It’s possible the sheriff will want you to ride with us. But for now, I think it’s safer to stay away until we can return with a larger party.”
Ed glanced at York, and Cole knew who held the authority.
“Ed, you go down the trail and stop the public from coming in,” York said. “I’ll ride on up, but I won’t disturb anything in the area. While I wait, I can scout the sheep and still get on the road in decent time to head back to Denver today.”
So this was more about keeping his schedule than anything else, but as a Parks and Wildlife officer, this man had the authority to take over if he wanted to. Cole tried one last time. “I don’t know what happened up there, but I think it’s likely that the owner of this boot didn’t die of natural causes. The boot’s charred and burned, and I didn’t see any sign of recent forest fire in the area.”
Ed’s ruddy complexion had flushed a deeper red, apparently torn by the conflict between his superior and his veterinarian. “I reckon we’d better do as he says, Tucker.”
After giving Ed a brief study and taking into account his discomfort, York apparently made a decision. “I’ll be all right. You go on down, Ed, and close the trail. Wait for the others and come up with them.”
He kneed his horse and it sidled by, continuing up the trail.
Ed reined his gelding in a tight turn. With a final glance at his supervisor, he nudged his horse and started back down the trail.