Sirens warbled from town, signaling that help was on its way.
Cole’s eyes flicked past her toward the dead man. “What about Nate?”
Mattie gave a subtle shake of her head, not wanting to frighten Leslie even more. Because there was a real chance the man Leslie loved would meet the same end.
TWO
Heartsick, Cole huddled beside Leslie as they watched two EMTs stabilize Garrett’s neck and then lift him onto a stretcher. It felt unreal. His best friend, so strong and vital, lay limp and unconscious while they moved him into the back of the ambulance.
Leslie gripped Cole’s hand. “I have to go with him.”
Cole intercepted one of the EMTs, introduced Leslie as the patient’s wife, and got permission for her to ride along. He helped her up into the ambulance, where the EMT guided her toward a short bench seat against the side panel.
“I’ll follow and meet you at the hospital,” Cole shouted as the door closed, leaving him with the image of an unresponsive Garrett lying on a stretcher, a sight that made his stomach clench.
He remained in shock over what had just happened. Garrett Hartman was a kind soul, his heart as big as his stature. He has to be okay, Cole thought. He just has to be.
Mattie appeared at his side and touched his arm. “Can I catch a ride to my place before you go to the hospital?”
Firemen were dousing the blaze with their hoses, but in the beams of the respondents’ headlights, he could see reddened patches on Mattie’s cheeks. He took her right hand and lifted her arm so that he could examine the blisters beading her forearm. Compared to his, her skin was soft and tender, and she lacked the protection of the long sleeves he’d worn. “Did you have someone treat your burns?”
“Garrett needed help more than I did. Come on, let’s head back to town. I need to get Robo to help us with this crime scene. Stella’s here to take over, so I can go.”
Stella LoSasso, the detective who worked with Mattie at the Timber Creek County Sheriff’s Department, would be in charge if there had been foul play. Cole hadn’t had a chance to talk with Mattie privately yet, but he suspected that foul play was exactly what they were dealing with here. Nate’s van hadn’t turned into a fireball through spontaneous combustion; someone had to have burned that van on purpose.
He followed Mattie to his truck. After starting the engine and pulling onto the highway, he voiced the question. “How did Nate die?”
“He was shot, Cole. The scene is a mess now, so Robo probably won’t be able to find evidence, but Stella and I thought we should try.”
Though he thought he’d taken all the hits he could for the night, the news came as another shock. “Who in the world would shoot Nate Fletcher?”
Mattie peered at him from her side of the truck. “Do you know Nate?”
“He’s married to Kasey Redman. She’s Lillian and Doyle Redman’s daughter. They own most of the valley to the north of the highway out there.”
“I’m familiar with the ranch; it’s a Timber Creek landmark. I vaguely remember Kasey from grade school, but she’s several years younger than me.”
They’d hit the edge of town, and he turned onto her street. “Nate Fletcher makes a living as an outfitter. He has a string of horses with a ready-made way to take care of them on the ranch.”
“So Nate and Kasey live on the ranch?” A glance told him that Mattie looked worried, a feeling he shared. What a terrible way to end their date: another killing in Timber Creek.
“Yeah, they have their own house, but they live there, and so does Tyler, Kasey’s younger brother. The ranch is huge, and part of it borders my parents’ place. I grew up knowing the family. They’ve had some tough times this past year.”
“How so?”
“Kasey’s dad had a major stroke last fall. Spent some time in rehab, but he’s home now. I heard it affected his ability to talk and use his right arm.”
“And now we’re going to have to tell Kasey that her husband is dead.”
Cole parked in front of Mattie’s house and turned off the engine. He didn’t want to leave her like this. Not yet. “Let me look at that arm before I go.”
“You need to get to the hospital for Leslie. I can take care of it.” She reached for her door handle, giving him a thin smile tinged with regret.
He stepped out of his truck. “It’ll only take a few minutes. I’ll get supplies from the back and meet you inside.”
While she hurried to unlock her house, he searched for gauze and ointment in the mobile vet unit that filled the bed of his pickup. Robo barked from inside, but as soon as he cleared the doorway, he leaped off the porch and charged out to the truck, white teeth flashing in the moonlight. Thank goodness, the dog was grinning.
Cole gathered supplies in one hand in order to free the other long enough to ruffle the fur on Robo’s neck. At one hundred pounds, the black-and-tan German shepherd could tackle a man twice his weight and bring him down. Cole knew, because he’d seen him do it. But unless Mattie told the dog to attack, he was a friendly guy, and although Cole was Robo’s vet, the dog visited him and his family often enough to think they were best buddies. Cole hoped to keep it that way.
“Robo, take a break.” Mattie’s way of telling him to do his business.
Cole closed the back of the mobile unit and headed toward the porch while Mattie held open the front door. He stepped inside, glancing around her small living room. Though he and Mattie spent most of their time at his house with the kids, he’d been here before and knew the general floor plan—bedroom off to the left down a short hall, kitchen off to the right through a doorway. He pushed aside his hope that he could spend time with her here tonight and took a right. “I’ll set up in the kitchen.”
Energized from an evening nap, Robo barreled in behind him. Cole placed his supplies on the counter, and Mattie came up beside him while Robo settled at her feet, head tilted up to watch. Cole reminded himself to move slowly and carefully when touching Mattie, because he had no doubts about how seriously Robo took his duty to protect his girl.
He held out a hand toward Mattie and waited for her to place her wrist in his palm. “Let me take a look.”
She’d worn a snug, black T-shirt over jeans to the dance. She looked great—more than great, actually—but her bare arms had suffered from lack of protection when she’d sprinted past the van.
It scared him the way she always rushed to the front line, no matter what she was doing. While he loved that about her, it caused him no end of worry in light of the danger associated with her job. A cop—a K-9 cop, no less. Always out front, searching for the bad guys.
The reddened skin on her forearm bore a cluster of small blisters, running from the fine bones of her wrist almost to her elbow.
Cole drew her toward the sink. “Let me wash my hands, and then we’ll run some cool water over this.”
“It doesn’t look too bad.”
“I bet it hurts.”
She shrugged. “Some.”
His tough girl. He washed his hands, set the water to a cooler temperature, and placed her arm under the drizzle. She sucked in a breath.
“You can take whatever you have for the pain, but I’ll put on some cream that contains lidocaine, some aloe, and an antibiotic. That should soothe it. Then we’ll dress it with sterile gauze. Let me check it again tomorrow, but if it starts looking like it’s infected, we should get you to Dr. McGinnis.”
“I’ll wear a uniform with long sleeves to protect it.”