“Bree, we’re ready for you and Samson now.” Mason stood in the doorway, a worried frown on his face.
She leaned over and squeezed Denise’s hand. “Is there anyone I can call for you?”
Denise shook her head. “I’ll call my mom, and she’ll come right away. It will take her ten hours or so to get here from Indiana because she won’t fly.” She buried her face in her hands. “I just can’t believe this,” she whispered.
“I can stay tonight,” Bree offered.
“I’ll be all right. The pastor is on his way over. When he gets here, I’ll call Phil’s mother too.” Her voice trembled.
Bree nodded then snapped her fingers at Samson, who got to his feet and followed her.
Mason led the way to the kitchen. “Forensics is done. I want Samson to see if he can follow the scent from the kitchen to any other places where the body might have been laid.”
Bree still had the scent article they’d used at the lake. She pulled it out of her backpack and gave Samson a fresh sniff. His tail swished eagerly as she rubbed his ears. “Search!” she told him.
He whined then went to work. His customary death-scent responses—drooped tail, howling, whining—manifested immediately as he nosed the spot he’d indicated earlier.
“Not there, Samson. We already know about that.” Bree pulled him away from the site. He went to the kitchen door and scratched at it. Bree let him out, and he bounded through the darkness of the backyard to the driveway. He sniffed the ground beside the driveway and began to howl again.
Mason directed the two forensic technicians to see if they could gather any more clues, and they rigged bright lights around the area. Bree called Samson and told him to continue to search. He raced back and forth across the yard. Samson worked in a Z-pattern, his nose in the air as he tried to pick up another scent. At one point he seemed to sense something near the end of the driveway, but in the end, he wandered back to Bree with his tail drooping.
“The body must have been put in a car. Samson’s not getting a scent beyond here.”
The forensic team was busy picking up hair and other debris in the driveway. “See if there are any tire marks we can use,” Mason told the men.
Samson stood with his ears sagging, and Bree knelt beside him. “You did good, boy.” She glanced at Mason. “Would you hide? He’s had a rough day.”
“Sure.” Mason handed her his hat. “You can use this.” He jogged to the back of the garage.
Bree waited a few minutes then thrust the hat under Samson’s nose. “Go find him, Samson. Find Mason.”
The dog’s tail began to swish, then he bounded away with his nose in the air. He crisscrossed the backyard until he found Mason’s scent, then raced in the direction Mason had gone. Moments later Samson came back to Bree with his tail held high and a stick in his mouth to show he’d found his quarry. Bree allowed him to lead her back to Mason.
“Good boy!” Mason rubbed the dog’s ears. “He’s a real treasure, Bree. I hear he drove off a wolf this afternoon.”
“He’s our protector.” Bree knelt and buried her face in his fur. “Good dog, Samson.”
Her dog whined and licked her face. He pulled away and went to her Jeep. “I guess he’s ready to go,” Bree said. “He probably misses Davy. He’ll be disappointed to get home and not have him there. I should probably go by Anu’s and let him see that Davy is okay.”
“And make sure yourself,” Mason said with a teasing grin.
“That too,” she agreed.
“I’ll let you know what we find out. This is sure a stumper. The Taylors have only been in town two weeks. Who would want to kill him that quick? From what I’ve seen of the man, he seemed amiable.”
“I wonder if it had anything to do with the lab. He had Denise pick up some papers for him, but they just look like formulas he was working on. Did you find anything in his car?”
Mason rubbed his chin. “Nope. Just fishing stuff. But his car looked like it had just been vacuumed. Could we take Samson out to check it?”
“Sure. You want me to call Naomi and Charley too?”
“Samson should be enough. If you get a questionable response from him, we can call in some other dogs then.”
Mason’s phone rang, and he answered it. He listened a few moments, then he closed his eyes and pressed his lips together. “It was the coroner. Phil’s death was from a gunshot wound.”
3
Cassie Hecko stretched the kinks out of her back and surveyed her domain. The lab equipment gleamed atop the stainless-steel cabinets and counters. Her supplies had been safely stowed out of view. She had a big job ahead of her, made even bigger by Phil’s death. Her smile dimmed with regret. She would miss Phil’s humor.
Salome Levy poked her head in the door. In her early thirties, she was unmarried, a commonality that made the two more like best friends than boss and assistant. Cassie always felt a twinge of envy when she looked at Salome. She was gorgeous with black hair that shimmered in the sunlight. Today she wore her curly hair loose, and it reached nearly to her waist.
“Ready to check out the growing chamber?” Salome asked. “I want to stop at the supermarket on the way home. I thought I’d make fettuccine tonight for dinner if that sounds good to you. I can’t let you show me up. The lasagna you fixed last night was fabulous. I thought your dad was going to lick his plate!”
“I’ll just like it because I’m not cooking.” Cassie grinned and snagged a green army jacket from the hook on the back of the door and slung it over her fatigues and T-shirt.
“That’s the only reason you were willing to rent me a room,” Salome said with a grin.
Though it was nearly eighty today, the mine’s hallways would be closer to fifty until they got to the growing chamber. “Everything set up?” Cassie asked.
Salome nodded. “The lighting was installed Monday, and all the seeds were set out yesterday and today. They seem to be happy in their new home.”
“Let’s take a look. I want everything in order by the time Marc comes to check us out.”
Before they could leave the room, the phone rang. Cassie raised her eyebrows. “I didn’t think anyone had the number yet. It has to be Marc. He’s like a terrier on a scent. I thought maybe when he married Yancy’s ex-wife he’d lighten up.” She walked toward the desk.
Salome grimaced. “I don’t know how you put up working for him. I would have quit the first week.”
“You just have to know how to handle him. I grew up with a mother like him, so I know all about walking on eggshells. You tread lightly and get ready to run at the first sign of a frown.” Cassie grinned to show that her past didn’t bother her any longer. People never looked deeper than a smile.
She reached the phone and answered it. “Cassie Hecko.”
The strange voice on the other end made her blink. “You must shut down your godless operation or face the consequences.”
“What?” Cassie pulled the phone away from her ear. Was this some kind of joke? The voice sounded as if it had been masked by some digital device. “Who is this?”
“You’ve been warned. Do what I say or face the consequences.” The caller clicked off.
Cassie slammed down the phone. “Great. The kooks have found us already.”
“Don’t let it bug you. They’re everywhere.” Salome held the door open for her, then they went down the hall and through the security gates into the copper mine. The smell of water-borne minerals and the sound of dripping made Cassie feel a bit claustrophobic, as though the rocks would crush her. The loony-tunes call didn’t help her mood.
The passageway emptied into a cavernous room over a hundred feet in diameter and nearly as tall overhead. Tables arranged in rows on the concrete floor were laden with plants. The jagged rock walls were painted white, and lights glowed so brightly overhead that Cassie reached for her sunglasses and put them on.
“Whoever came up with this idea was brilliant,” she said. “No insects or diseases to worry about d
own here, and we can control all the growing parameters. These plants should shoot up fast.”
“And we’re self-contained. There’s no danger of the plants propagating in the environment. We just need to keep this under wraps. If the media finds out, we’ll have environmental nuts crawling over us like ants at a picnic. I guess they think these plants are going to sprout feet and walk out of here.”
Cassie nodded. “The team knows to keep quiet. And it shouldn’t take long. Not with the scientists we have.”
“And you’re the smartest of the bunch,” Salome said. “We’d be years behind the competition if it wasn’t for you and your dad.”
Cassie shifted, uncomfortable with the praise. “I just like the excitement of discovery. Dad did most of it.” She looked away. “I just hope we can make our deadline.”
“It’s too bad he won’t be in on the final wrap-up, huh?” Salome squeezed her shoulder. “He’s proud of you though.”
“Too proud sometimes.”
“Is that what drives you? I’ve often wondered if you were trying to prove yourself to your dad.”
Salome was closer to the truth than Cassie liked. As roommates, they usually just skimmed over the top of deep issues, and she was surprised Salome had picked up on that. “I’ve never felt I needed to prove anything to Dad,” she said firmly. The truth was much more complex, but Cassie had hopes that the next few months would prove her statement true.
“Well, if we don’t make our deadline, none of this will matter. The company will go under, and our competitors will win,” Salome pointed out. “I just wish your dad could help us. Locked inside that mind of his is stuff no one else knows, not even Yancy or Phil.”
“Speaking of my dad, I should check on him. He’s been a little disoriented since the move.” She pulled out her cell phone and punched in the number.
“Hi, Dad, how’s everything?” She tried to keep her voice cheerful as she waited to see what his condition was today.
“I can’t find my microscope,” Bernard Hecko answered in a querulous voice. “Did you move it, Cassie?”
“It’s in the garage. I haven’t had a chance to unpack it yet. Stay in the house, though, Dad, and I’ll get it out tonight.”
“My work won’t wait. I’ll get it out myself.” He put down the phone without turning it off.
Cassie could hear him mumbling. Then a door opened, and she knew he had gone to the garage. “I need to run home,” she told Salome. “Dad’s not having a good day.”
“Oh dear. I’ll hold down the fort here.” Salome bit her lip. “Um, Cassie, how much longer do you expect to keep him at home? Don’t you worry he’ll wander off?”
Cassie felt the old, familiar sense of failure. “I can’t stand the thought of a nursing home.”
“At least he’d be safe. I think you’re making a mistake to trust him alone. You never know when an Alzheimer’s patient will take a turn for the worse.”
“Tell me about it.” Cassie grabbed her backpack and swung it to her shoulder. “I’ll be back as quick as I can.”
“Stop by Phil’s and ask Denise if she’s seen his notes,” Salome called after her. “I’ve turned his office upside down looking for them.”
Surrounded by thick forest about fifteen miles from Rock Harbor, the Ketola cabin sat in a tiny clearing barely big enough for the house. The nearest neighbor was five miles away and never visited, a state of affairs Jonelle Ketola knew her husband, Zane, intended to maintain. The crows cawed from the trees as Jonelle followed him to the dog pens. His two pit bulls, Bruck and Trickster, lunged to the wire fence to greet him. He tossed their meat to the ground in each of their pens. He and Jonelle both knew better than to hand-feed the dogs. They were liable to make a meal of any slow fingers.
Bruck, the bigger and meaner of the dogs, growled at Trickster to stay away until he was done, but the younger dog had speed and agility on his side, and he lunged forward for his share. Bruck turned to snap at him, but his teeth closed on empty air. He turned back to his meal.
Jonelle shuddered, but Zane smiled. “He’s in good form for the fight.”
“He scares me,” Jonelle said. She wished he’d get rid of these dogs. When the baby came, she wouldn’t be able to sleep a wink for fear they’d get out and attack her child. Her hand strayed to her stomach.
Zane saw the movement and put his arm around her. “I’m just doing this for you and the baby, you know that. No kid of mine is going to go without like I did.” He narrowed his eyes, and his mouth grew pinched. “He’s going to go to college and have some status in the world.”
Jonelle had to wonder if it was status for their child that Zane really wanted, or a proxy status for himself through their child’s accomplishments. She returned her husband’s hug. He just wanted what was best for them. She had to remember that.
A sleek gray Acura drove along the gravel lane toward them. Zane released her. “What’s he want now?” He grabbed a beer from Jonelle’s hand and went to wait by the porch. The car stopped in front of Zane, but for several long moments, no one got out. The windows were tinted so darkly, Jonelle couldn’t see what he was doing. An uneasy stirring in her stomach made her half sick.
The driver’s door finally swung open, and Simik got out. In his forties with gray touching his black hair at the temples, he was dressed in a spotless blue pinstripe suit. “Zane,” he said. “Ma’am.”
Zane’s partner always gave Jonelle the willies. The schemes he’d gotten Zane mixed up in sometimes kept her awake at night. She could tell by the look on Simik’s face he had another moneymaking scheme up his sleek suit sleeve. She’d never heard his first name, but his last name was enough to strike fear in her heart.
Simik’s eyes gleamed as he looked around the yard. “Our troll in town has a proposition for us.”
“Oh?” Zane asked.
Jonelle suppressed a sigh. The man’s connections to bigger dog gambling rings had reaped huge financial benefits for Zane, and her husband wasn’t about to walk away from him, even though dogfights were illegal in all fifty states and danger lurked in Simik’s muddy eyes.
“When’s the next fight?”
Zane shrugged. “Next month.”
“You have a worthy opponent for Bruck?”
“No one stands a chance against Bruck, and you know it.”
“Our troll is willing to pay thirty thousand dollars for a dog he’s found who can take him on. And he’ll bet heavily in the actual fight.”
Zane gave a bark of laughter. “It’s too easy taking money from our little patsy. He’s soft and weak. He always thinks he can recoup his losses on the next fight. You’d think by now he would have learned not to bet against Bruck. There’s not a dog alive who can take on my lean, mean killing machine.”
“Seriously,” Simik said. He took a step closer. “He says he saw this dog drive off a wolf a couple of days ago.”
Zane frowned. “So what? Bruck has killed plenty of wolves in his career. I trained him against wolves.”
Jonelle knew it was a lie, but Zane liked to maintain some mystique concerning his dogs. Still, Bruck was a fearsome dog. He had been bloodied but never beaten in the three years he’d been in the ring. The muscular dog was at the height of his strength and ferocity. He was unbeatable. The graveyard behind the cabin held more dog carcasses than Jonelle could count—all casualties of Bruck’s mean streak. And Zane made sure he stayed mean. He fed the dogs only as much as they needed to maintain their strength, and they were always hungry for more. That gave them an edge over their softer opponents. And the steroids Zane fed them only added to their ferocity.
Jonelle had tried to sneak them food, but she was always punished for it.
Simik leaned forward. “Our troll says this dog has to be seen to be believed. And I’d like to see him lose his money on it.”
Jonelle wondered what Simik had against this “troll.” She’d seen the way Simik had sucked the man deeper and deeper into the gambling ring, almost as though
it was a personal vendetta to bankrupt him.
“What ring did he see him in?”
“Not a ring. In town.” The other man pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his face. “This heat could break any day. I thought the U.P. was supposed to be cool.”
“We get our hot spells just like anywhere else.”
“You ever heard of Samson? He’s the search dog Bree Nicholls works.”
Zane squinted his eyes. “Yeah, I seen him around. Big mutt, looks mostly German shepherd. That him?”
“Yes,” Simik said eagerly.
“He’s soft. I wouldn’t waste Bruck’s time on such an untrained animal.”
“The troll says he’ll go so far as to make it double or nothing in the ring,” Simik said with a contemptuous curl of his lip. “You just have to get the dog into good enough shape that we can convince the troll and the rest of the betters he has a chance against Bruck.”
Jonelle’s eyes widened. Zane wouldn’t refuse such a plush deal.
“I thought he was already into you for twenty thousand.”
“He is. I want everything he’s got.”
“How’s he going to talk the little gal into letting us kill her dog?”
“That’s where you come in. You’re going to need to snatch him.”
“That’s your job.”
“You’ve done it before and have the equipment and know-how to deal with a dog Samson’s size. I’ll pay you five thousand just for the snatch.” Simik took out his wallet.
He held out a roll of hard cash. Jonelle saw the greedy look on her husband’s face, and her heart sank.
“Make it ten,” Zane said. “I’m the one taking the chances.”
“Ten thousand dollars for something that will take you all of an hour including driving time? Are you nuts? You stand to make half of the thirty the troll is willing to pay to get him trained.” Simik pocketed his money and turned to go.
“Okay, six then.”
The other man paused and drew the money out slowly. “Okay. But you’ve got to do it soon. I want to have time for you to starve him a bit and make him meaner. We have to make this believable.”