Her pulse quickened. He’d found something.
She edged through the willow branches to reach him. “What is it? What did you find?”
After her eyes adjusted to the dim light, Mattie could see a pair of high-powered binoculars, lenses down in the muddy soil.
“Good boy,” she murmured as she stroked Robo’s head. “What a good job you did.”
By this time, Brody had moved to the edge of the bushes. “What is it?”
“Binoculars,” she called to him. “I’ll photograph them before I pick them up.”
Broken ends of willow branches poked her as she took out her cell phone and snapped shots of Robo’s find. Black field glasses lying in shadow against a background of dark mud required the use of a flash. No one would ever have seen them here within the willows.
Had some fisherman who was angling the stream lost the binoculars? Or did they belong to Wilson, or his killer? She hoped the lab would be able to find prints.
After taking photos, she pulled a latex glove from her pocket and put it on. From behind, Brody thrust a paper evidence bag toward her through the branches.
When she picked up the set of binoculars, she avoided the barrels of the lenses so she wouldn’t smudge fingerprints that might have been left. She carefully placed them inside the bag and folded it closed before edging out from under the dense thicket.
She handed the bag to Brody. “Take a look.”
He peered into the bag. “Mud on the lenses, but otherwise in pristine condition. Haven’t been out here long.”
She turned to praise Robo and realized he hadn’t followed her from the willows. She bent to search for him within the branches and was about to call him to come, but stopped herself when she saw him. He’d moved farther through the thicket toward the creek and now sat, looking at her as if wondering what was taking her so long. “Brody, he’s found something else.”
After grabbing another evidence bag, she went upstream to press through the willows toward the creek side and slowly made her way down to where Robo waited. “What you got, buddy?” she murmured as she crept through roots and branches to get to him.
Robo’s find lay beside him—a lead bullet, flattened at the tip. The binoculars had drawn Robo into the thicket, which had allowed him to find the smaller object.
“He found the lead,” she called to Brody. “It’s short, from a handgun and not a rifle.”
“Well, I’ll be damned!”
Mattie photographed and bagged the projectile, and this time Robo followed her out to join back up with Brody. They both patted and praised him while he danced in place, staring at the pouch on Mattie’s utility belt where she kept the tennis ball they played with for his reward. “Hold on a second,” she told him, stroking his head. “Let’s get away from this scene before we play.”
Mattie clipped on Robo’s leash while she studied the ground darkened by blood. “Wilson was shot at close range here, and the bullet went through his chest, losing velocity in the willows.”
“Ballistics can probably determine the caliber,” Brody said, “but I think you’re right; this eliminates the possibility of a long-range rifle shot.”
“I don’t know if the binoculars belonged to Wilson or his killer.” Turning slowly, Mattie scanned the area’s entire circumference, trying to determine what the person using the binoculars could have been looking at. The forest blocked her line of vision in every direction but downhill. That one afforded her a view of the valley where the Redman Ranch and its headquarters were located.
Brody was looking downhill, too. “The Redman Ranch?”
Who would find this view so interesting? And why? “Let me play with Robo for a few minutes, and then we’ll get back to work.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
SEVENTEEN
Mattie and Robo searched the area around Wilson Nichol’s crime scene but didn’t find anything new. When two members of the sheriff’s posse arrived to guard the site, she thought she might call it quits, but then she noticed Robo’s head go up, and he stared into the forest. Within seconds, he put his nose to the ground to sniff, shifting his head side to side in the way that meant he was zeroing in on human scent.
She called to Brody. “Robo’s got another hit. I think he’s still following Wilson Nichol’s track.”
“Go for it. I’ll follow.”
Mattie spoke softly to Robo, encouraging him as he guided her upstream. They trekked about one hundred yards through steep and rugged terrain before Robo veered away from the creek. Mattie figured this was the path Wilson had taken prior to being shot.
Not long after they left the creek bank, Robo led her to a silver Lexus SUV parked within a pine grove as if it had been hidden in a spot far from the main road, which looped back and forth up the mountain in a series of switchbacks. Robo led her straight to the driver’s side door and sat while Mattie rewarded him with hugs and pats.
She looked over her shoulder at Brody. “This is Wilson Nichol’s Lexus.”
He raised one eyebrow as he scanned the small clearing within the trees. “Now we’ve got to wonder who hid it here.”
“True. But Robo led me straight to the driver’s side door, so I think Nichol parked it here himself.”
“What’s inside?”
Mattie peered into the window. Since he was standing right next to her, Mattie figured it was a rhetorical question and didn’t answer, but she spotted several scrolls that looked like architectural drawings, rolled and secured with rubber bands, lying on the passenger seat beside an empty case for binoculars. Otherwise, the car’s interior appeared uncluttered and immaculate.
Careful not to touch anything, Brody leaned forward. “Keys are in it, and it’s probably unlocked. We’ll seal it and have it towed to the crime scene lab for a thorough search. Maybe it’ll give us some kind of evidence.”
“It looks like he might have left it here while he got out to take a look around with the binoculars.”
Brody scanned the area, his eyes following the two-track that led away from the trees where the car had been parked. “I can’t see the main road from here, but it probably connects with this one. Apparently Nichol headed downhill after he was shot instead of trying to get back here.”
Mattie thought about it. “That chest wound looked like it took out one of his lungs. Maybe he couldn’t get enough breath to try to go uphill.”
Robo had been sniffing the vehicle from all angles, reminding Mattie that she wanted to do a drug sweep on it. She called him to her and asked him to sweep the exterior in a methodical way, sniffing wheel wells and the undercarriage at her direction.
Nothing. This vehicle was free of the scent of narcotics. Although the lack of evidence didn’t wipe away her previous theory that Nate Fletcher and Wilson Nichol might have partnered in drug trafficking, it certainly didn’t support it.
Brody had called Sheriff McCoy to give him an update, and he disconnected the call just as Mattie was finishing up.
“No sign of drugs,” she told him.
“The sheriff will send Johnson to guard the car until it can be processed. I’ll stay here until he arrives, but you need to go down to where Nichol was shot. The game warden and McCoy are headed there now.”
Mattie acknowledged his words with a short salute and turned to jog downhill, Robo keeping pace beside her. She’d not traveled far, careful to watch her step and avoid stones and deadfall, when her phone rang. She stopped, and as she called Robo back to her, she withdrew her phone and checked caller ID.
Cole. She wanted to talk to him—they had a lot to discuss—but she felt like she should talk to him in person, face-to-face. She needed to join up with Sheriff McCoy as well, so she pushed the call to voice mail.