That done, they lifted Belle down off the table, and she sat on the floor, stoic and quiet. Cole removed the muzzle, leaned over, and patted her on the side. “I’ll take her to the kennel room. Come on, Belle. Let’s get you comfortable.”
The deputy followed him into the kennel area and watched while he put Belle in one of the large, chain-link dog runs. He put in a cushion-type dog bed for her to use.
Belle stood inside the run, head and tail drooping. She gazed out at the deputy, her eyes pleading not to be left behind. Deputy Cobb’s face took on a tortured look. Cole tried to reassure her. “She’s always been strong and healthy. She’ll be fine. I’ll call Garrett and tell him about her condition.”
She frowned slightly. “I’m sure that Sheriff McCoy will tell him that Belle’s safe here with you. I imagine right now they’re trying to figure out how this thing happened.”
“All right. Garrett will call me when he has time. If not, I’ll give him a ring in the morning. My daughters just got home from Denver, and I need to join them now for dinner anyway.”
“Sounds like a good plan.” Deputy Cobb reached into her pocket and extracted a business card. “I’ll leave you my cell phone number on the back of my card.”
“You know how to reach me, right? After hours, the office forwards to my cell phone.”
She nodded, reached through the wire mesh to trace a finger along Belle’s cheek. Belle licked her hand. The deputy squared her shoulders and straightened.
As Cole followed her to the door, he noticed she still favored her right leg. “Would you like an ice pack?”
She turned with a frown. “What?”
“For your knee. I can see that you hurt it.”
She glanced down at her knee as if she hadn’t noticed it before and shook her head. “No, thanks. It’s nothing.”
Cole watched her go out to the patrol car, saw the joyous greeting the shepherd gave her as she opened the door and settled behind the wheel. She turned to grasp the big dog by the scruff of the neck, giving it a playful shake. Cole wondered if there wasn’t some softness beneath that tough girl exterior.
Chapter 5
After Mattie left the vet’s office, she drove to the station, her mind going back to the scene at the shallow gravesite. Dark hair worn in a ponytail, little ski-jump nose with a sprinkling of freckles—matched the girl’s description. She’d also worn rings on most of her fingers; only the ring finger on her left hand had been bare.
She’d called Sheriff McCoy as soon as she learned who owned Belle, and he would take care of having the parents identify the girl’s body. Then someone would have to notify Dr. Walker of her death, and that was going to be hard. He’d mentioned that his daughter and the victim were friends, and he appeared to know her well. Mattie sighed, thinking about the pain this would bring to the family. But it couldn’t be helped, and she planned to set up an interview with the vet’s daughter as soon as possible.
When she and Robo entered the station, Brody stepped out of the chief deputy’s office. Neither of them wasted time on pleasantries.
“You’re running on overtime, Cobb. You need to get your paperwork done ASAP and get out of here.”
“Affirmative. Have you heard from the sheriff? Has he identified the body yet?”
“Haven’t heard, but I ran the plate. It’s registered to Mike Chadron.”
“I know Mike,” Mattie said. “He has a Bernese mountain dog kennel, breeds and trains show dogs.”
“Yeah. Do you know him well?”
“No. He went to high school here, but several years behind me. Has anyone talked to him yet?”
“I drove out to his place,” he said. “He’s not there. Truck’s gone. Looks like all his dogs are gone. I poked around a little bit out back by the kennels. No barking. Maybe he went somewhere to a dog show.”
“Yeah, but why would he have been up there in the mountains this morning with his dogs? That doesn’t connect.”
“Maybe not, but we’re not gonna solve it by standing around here talking. I’ll check back early tomorrow morning to see if he’s come home.”
“Okay.”
Mattie went to the staff office and cleared her paperwork as quickly as possible.
The office wasn’t air-conditioned and it had been a warm day. Robo had gone to his dog bed by the wall and was now lying on his back, belly exposed, snoring.
She smiled. “Hey, Robo, you ready to go home?”
At the sound of his name, he rolled off his back and got up on his feet in one smooth motion. Haunches raised, he lowered his shoulders, stretched, and yawned. He followed her out to the patrol car.
Nothing left to do except pick up a knucklebone at Crane’s Market for Robo. Once there, she decided to pick up a few staples for the woman who’d been her foster-mother. Though Mama T was aging, she still had a houseful of foster kids, and bringing food was one way that Mattie could help.
Mama T’s house had been her last foster home in a long string of placements that had started when she was six. While Mattie loaded packages of hamburger and cheese, gallons of milk, and a variety of vegetables into her cart, she remembered how Mama T introduced herself to new foster kids.
“My name is Teresa, but you can call me Mama T.” She would add with a wink, “The name Mother Teresa has already been taken.”
Mama T dished up love with her cooking: green chili, homemade tortillas, fry bread. While Mattie had learned to love the intense flavors of the Mexican food Mama prepared in her kitchen, she’d never picked up the knack of cooking it herself.
It was only a few blocks to Mama T’s place, and the streets were quiet this time of day, when families were inside preparing for dinner. She parked in front of the house, a single-story clapboard painted smoke blue with a white trim. Mama T’s yard was pristine, her grass clipped, small plaster chipmunks scattered about frozen in midscamper, pansies with their happy faces blooming in the flower beds. It was the only place Mattie had ever lived that she could think of as home.
Mattie told Robo to wait in the car before gathering up the bags of groceries and skirting around the side of the house to enter through the kitchen door. The aromas that filled the warm room were as wonderful as she’d imagined. To Mattie, chili powder, cumin, and chili peppers spelled comfort with a capital C.
Mama T stood at the stove stirring something that smelled delightful on the old-fashioned, wood-burning stove that she still used. Short and plump, Mama T wore her long black hair, shot with gray, pulled back in a tight bun at her nape. Wearing an old sleeveless housedress that had once been red but was now a faded pink, she turned to greet Mattie. Her smile was warm in her brown, weathered face, though it showed a couple gaps where front teeth were missing. She put down her long-handled spoon and opened her arms.
Mattie set the groceries on the table, and stooping slightly, she allowed herself to be taken in by Mama T’s embrace. Yes, she thought, this is home.
“Mijita, you are too good to bring us food,” Mama said, releasing Mattie and turning back to the stove.
The endearment, “my little daughter,” made Mattie’s heart swell. She smiled and started to put away the groceries. “It’s nothing.”
“You say that, but if you saw the way these kids eat. Only horses eat more!”
“Oh, I’ve seen them. I used to be one of them, remember?”
The smile Mama T gave her brought back memories of many times shared in this kitchen.