His body language still open and relaxed, Ben Underwood answered for both of them. “We took a drive into the high country.” He paused, apparently thinking. “I think we were somewhere on the pass west of Willow Springs around six.”
“Can anyone vouch for seeing you around that time?” Stella asked. “Did you stop for dinner or gasoline so that you have receipts?”
Ben and Zach exchanged looks before Ben answered. “We ate dinner here in Timber Creek at that little diner.”
Clucken House, Mattie thought. It would be easy enough to check to see if they were telling the truth.
“What time?” Stella asked.
“We got back to town about eight. Went to dinner soon after,” Ben said.
That would’ve been well after the time Wilson Nichol was shot. The two could’ve easily killed him and made it back to town to eat around eight.
“Do either of you know a real estate broker from Willow Springs named Wilson Nichol?” Stella asked, addressing both of them, evidently trying to draw a response from Zach.
Zach gave Ben a sidelong glance before he spoke. “I know who he is. I’ve spoken with him on the phone recently.”
The glance and his reply sharpened Mattie’s attention. This admission linked Zach Irving to both Nate and Wilson.
Stella pursued more information. “What did you discuss with Mr. Nichol?”
“Business,” Zach said. “I’m interested in rural property development. He and I spoke about various properties he could show me.”
“And you, Mr. Underwood,” Stella said. “Do you know Wilson Nichol?”
“I don’t, ma’am. I’m a building contractor. Zach and I work together after he acquires the property he wants to develop, so I haven’t met or spoken with Mr. Nichol.”
Stella trained her gaze on Zach. “I’m sorry to tell you that Mr. Nichol was killed this evening.”
His brow shot up and he took a step back. “What?”
Stella remained silent, and Mattie studied both men’s reactions. While Zach appeared surprised and then shaken, Ben’s reaction was less specific. He seemed surprised at first, but the affable expression he wore returned within seconds, which made Mattie wonder if he used it as a mask.
Zach stared at Stella. “Wilson was killed. How?”
“He was shot.”
Zach’s posture was tight with tension. “Like Nate?”
“Both homicides are under investigation,” Stella said.
Zach’s gaze jumped from Stella to Mattie. “What’s going on in this town? Two men have been shot and killed?”
“That’s right,” Stella said, focusing on Zach. “Do you know anything about either of these men that might help us in our investigation?”
Mattie continued to study the pair while they held eye contact with each other. They didn’t use words, but she wondered if they were sharing some type of nonverbal communication just the same.
Ben gave a small nod to his friend, and Zach was the first to answer. “I truly don’t know much about either of these men except for the business we’ve talked about over the phone. I’m sorry, but I can’t help you.”
“And I know even less than he does,” Ben said, tipping an open palm toward his friend.
Zach looked at Stella. “Is it safe for us to even go on this fishing trip?”
“I don’t know,” Stella said. “You might consider canceling it.”
The two looked at each other again before Ben spoke. “The trip’s bought and paid for, and Nate’s wife says she can’t afford to give us a refund. We’re here, so we might as well go ahead with it.”
“I’ll talk to Tyler,” Zach said, straightening his shoulders as if to release tightness.
Ben looked at Stella. “Is there anything more you need from us tonight, Detective?”
“Just one more thing. We have a strict no-narcotics policy in our town. It’s routine that we use our K-9 to sweep vehicles passing through on the highway. We’d like your permission to do a quick narcotics sweep of your vehicle here, and then we’ll be on our way.”
Zach crossed his arms over his chest. “Absolutely not! This feels like harassment. Small-town cops trying to pin something on the out-of-town guys.”
So far Mattie had been observing in silence, but it was her turn to step up. “Our local businesses cooperate with our policy, and I have permission for my dog to take a sniff here in this parking lot.”
Zach looked at her, shaking his head. “If that dog scratches the paint, I’ll sue your department for damages.”
“He’s trained in a passive method of indication, so he doesn’t damage property. You can observe.”
She turned to go to her Explorer, and as she approached, Robo started his happy dance, his head bobbing behind the front seats. He’d probably been watching the entire time, wondering when it would be his turn to play. It took mere seconds to prep him, and when she slipped on his narcotics detection collar, it focused all that eagerness into work. She clipped on his leash and used the phrase that would communicate his mission. “You want to find some dope? Let’s go!”
As she led Robo to the Cadillac, he trotted beside her at heel, his eyes pinned to her face. She noticed that Zach had removed himself from the others and was standing back on the sidewalk, arms crossed, his face darkened by a scowl. “This is ridiculous,” he muttered as Mattie drew near.
She ignored him. After one last thump on Robo’s rib cage, she told him again to search. It was what he’d been wanting and all he needed to transform into a slinky, sniffing machine. Ears pinned, Robo took in scent while Mattie guided him in a counterclockwise search of the car. She asked him to pay extra attention by using her hand to direct his nose to the cracks at the doors, into wheel wells, and under bumpers. When he finished, he turned his head toward Mattie, his eyes glued to her face as he awaited his next instruction.
No hit. She trusted Robo’s talent and training—the Cadillac was clean of narcotics. Disappointed that her drug-running theory involving these out-of-towners—which could have suggested a motive for both homicides—no longer existed, Mattie looked at Stella and then Zach. “It’s clean.”
With Robo latched onto her heel, she led him toward her unit while Stella wrapped up the interview. Even though she’d found no trace of narcotics, there was something about these two that bothered her. It was as if they were keeping some type of secret. And if it wasn’t drugs, maybe it was murder.
FOURTEEN
Eager to see his kids, Cole stood on the front porch, waiting for them to arrive while watching the dogs patrol the yard. Angie had called him after they crossed the last mountain pass to let him know they were about a half hour away, and that had been twenty-five minutes ago.
Their Bernese mountain dog, Belle, finished her business first and came to stand with him on the porch, while his Doberman pinscher, Bruno, continued to circle the yard, sniffing every flower bed and bush he came to. Cole placed a hand on Belle’s head and stroked the satiny fur between her ears while she looked up at him with her soft, dark eyes. He knew she would be especially excited to see Sophie, while Bruno was always happy to see anyone who would play with him, though he seemed to be most attached to Cole.
Lights pierced the darkness at the end of the lane, turning from the highway toward the house. Belle and Bruno both alerted, ears pricked and barking.
“Okay, you two, that’s enough. I see it.” Cole moved down the steps to the sidewalk with the dogs trotting out ahead, woofing under their breath.
Jessie steered her red Toyota Prius up to the edge of the yard and parked. Sophie sprang from the car as soon as it stopped.