Mattie put her elbows on the table and leaned on them to help steady her emotion. She fought to project an air of detachment. “We found horseshoe and cowboy boot prints up at the crime scene. I know they were too washed-out to get a clear casting, but the boot measurement indicates a male, which suggests at least one man accompanied William to the crime scene, probably on horseback.”
“And when horses are involved, so are trucks and trailers,” McCoy said. “I’ll put a notice in the newspaper asking for tips regarding a rig spotted at the trailhead parking lot. During what time period, Agent Lawson?”
“That crime scene couldn’t have been more than four days old. Let’s say Thursday through Sunday.”
“We’ll see if we can turn up any tips,” McCoy said.
Mattie hoped they could uncover pivotal information soon. She was sure that Willie had been brought to Timber Creek against his will. But for the life of her, she had no idea why.
The silence deepened until McCoy broke it. “Agent Lawson, you’re headed back up to the crime scene. Our team will get started investigating these leads.”
“Good luck, and we’ll check back in later today,” Lawson said.
Relieved that she was still part of the investigation, Mattie pushed back her chair, ready to get started.
TWENTY
Mattie and Stella decided to hit Colorado Parks and Wildlife first and were driving there in Mattie’s SUV with Robo in the back. They hoped to catch Ed Lovejoy in his office—it was early enough that he probably hadn’t yet left for the field.
Stella turned in the passenger seat to appraise Mattie. “What did you think of Lawson’s suggestion to take you off the case?”
“He was just doing his job, expressing his opinion. I didn’t take it personally like you did.”
Stella wrinkled her nose. “I guess I did a little bit.”
“I appreciate the support. So does Robo.” Mattie directed the conversation to the upcoming interview. “How do you want to handle Lovejoy?”
“How well do you know him?”
“He’s lived here for years. He does a good job, and he’s never caused any trouble. We don’t even have a parking ticket on him.”
“Then let’s go into it easy,” Stella said. “Save the confrontational stuff for the end. Watch his body language, see what we think.”
Pleased to see Lovejoy’s green truck parked in front of the tan stucco building with brown trim and a metal roof, Mattie pulled up and parked beside it. “I could take the lead if you want, start with his opinion of the search we did together Monday morning.”
“Take it away.”
Mattie turned to look at Robo. As usual, he stood, eager and ready to go. “You’re going to stay here,” she told him, and he sat, ears pricked, apparently willing to wait.
At the front desk, Mattie asked for Lovejoy, and she and Stella were directed back to his office. They approached the open doorway and spotted Lovejoy seated behind a desk piled high with paper, manuals, and books. He was writing on a notepad, his forehead wrinkled in concentration. Mattie tapped on the doorjamb.
Lovejoy looked up and his face lit. He leaned forward to pick up a coffee can from his desk, pulled off the plastic lid and spat a stream of tobacco juice into it. “Mattie!” he said when his mouth was clear enough to talk. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Geez, Ed. Do you chew that stuff all the time?”
His cheeks bunched as he tried to grin around the wad of snuff behind his bottom lip. “It’ll kill what ails ya.”
“I sincerely hope that it doesn’t kill you someday.” Mattie gestured toward Stella. “You know Detective LoSasso, right?”
“Call me Stella,” the detective said as she offered a handshake.
Lovejoy stood to shake her hand and then scurried from his office, returning with two folding chairs. Mattie and Stella sat them in front of his desk while he went around to his own seat.
“Where are you with your investigation of the ram shooting, Ed?” Mattie asked.
“I’m filling out the paperwork this morning. All I’ve got so far is what you’ve given me—date, time, the .270 Winchester casing found at the top of the ridge, and the slug Doc Walker retrieved from the carcass. When will you find out if that casing and the slug match?”
“Possibly today. What do you plan to do next?”
“I’ll file the report, keep my eyes and ears open, see if I can dig up any leads on the shooter.”
“What are your thoughts about the type of rifle used to fire that bullet?” Mattie asked.
Lovejoy leaned back, making the chair’s spring creak in complaint. “Well, we know it’s a bolt-action rifle, but that’s about all I can say. That .270 is a good round, accurate at long distances. From what Cole said, the guy made a clean heart shot. He knew what he was doing.”
Mattie nodded. “You have any locals in mind who could make that shot? Poachers you’ve busted in the past?”
“Not really. Poachers are usually going after the meat, and they’re looking for deer or elk. This was different.”
“It certainly was,” Mattie said. “Do you have any ties to California, Ed? Relatives or business?”
“Nah, but it seems like every other person moving into Colorado these days is from California.” His discouraged expression reflected his opinion about this trend. “Even my own boss is from there.”
That scored a hit with Mattie. “Oh yeah, are you talking about Tucker York?”
“Yep. When that job opened up, the powers that be hired him from out of state.”
“How long ago was that?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” Lovejoy scratched the blond stubble on his chin. “I’d say a little over a year ago.”
“Where in California was he from?”
“I think somewhere north of L.A. I don’t know for sure.”
Mattie thought she’d exhausted the subject with Lovejoy, but had gained valuable new information to flesh out when they interviewed York. She sent a glance toward Stella to signal that she could take the lead.
Stella took the interview a new direction. “How familiar are you with that backside of the ridge, Ed, where you all went yesterday morning?”
“We’ve been scouting that ridge for a couple years now to make sure there’s enough feed. That herd has grown beyond the feed supply, which forces us to relocate some of them.”
“Do you ever kill some of the animals or open up an additional season to reduce the herd?”
Lovejoy frowned as he shook his head. “It’s not done that way, and especially not with mountain sheep. A set number of hunting permits are allowed each season to protect the state’s sheep population.”
“Have you ever seen anyone up there, scouting the sheep when you are?” Stella asked.
“People don’t go up that trail very often. I’ve run into only a handful of people during the past couple years, and I’ve never ticketed anyone up there for illegal activity.”
“I noticed you carried a rifle with you on both days when we went up to the scene. Is that typical for you?”
“Almost always carry and seldom use.” Lovejoy removed the coffee can lid so that he could spit again. “I carry for protection when I’m in the high country. You know, from cougar and bear. Occasionally, I have to put down an injured or sick animal, but that’s rare.”
“What type of rifle do you carry?”
“It’s a Model 70 Winchester with pre-64 action,” Lovejoy said, smiling proudly. “It’s a beauty.”
“Impressive. Does it shoot the .270 Winchester ammo?”
“It does.”
“Is that what it has in it now?”