me know what you find—if you can get cell-phone coverage from one of the higher peaks up there, call me. Coverage up there is sketchy at best. If it becomes a rescue operation or worse, we can send in a helicopter once we have the location. So it is just going to be you and Maddie Conner going up there?”
“She’s not keen on my going along.”
Dillon chuckled. “I’ll just bet. Good luck.”
Jamison hung up and went to check on Dewey Putman. He got the feeling that the undersheriff thought his going up into the mountains would be good for him. Knock some of the back-East off of him. Apparently Maddie’s reputation had also preceded her since the undersheriff found some humor in his going with her.
In the kitchen, he saw that Dewey had finished his cake and coffee, shoved his dirty dishes away and, with his head cradled on his arms, had fallen into an exhausted sleep on the table.
He knew Maddie Conner was holding out hope that Dewey hadn’t done anything wrong and that they would find nothing out of the ordinary back in her summer sheep camp. He wished he could share her optimism.
“For all you know that is lamb blood on that boy’s jacket, just like he said,” she’d argued before he’d gone out to make the call to the office.
“Maybe. I think you should call the boy’s father. Meanwhile, I’m afraid he’ll have to be held in custody at the jail since his guardian will be in the mountains with me.”
“I already called the oil company and left a message for his father. Since there is no one else, I guess that’s the best we can do for now.”
“We shouldn’t be gone that long,” Jamison had said.
She’d given him a disbelieving smile. “There is only one way to get back where we need to go, Deputy, and that’s by horseback, so it’s going to take a while. You ever ridden a horse? Never mind. I’ll saddle you a gentle one. But you’re going to need some boots and some practical clothes. I think some of my husband’s will fit you.”
Before he’d been able to ask about her husband, she’d disappeared down the hall. He remembered the way Maddie had been looking at the kid earlier, so much heartbreak in her eyes. It had made him wonder where she’d gotten the clothing she’d given Dewey. Did she have a son of her own?
Leaving the sleeping boy, he stepped back in the living room and looked for family photographs. While he waited for Maddie, he couldn’t help being curious. To his surprise, he found no family photographs. That seemed strange. She’d mentioned a husband and she’d produced boys’ clothing, but there was no sign anyone lived here but her.
“I put some clothes out for you,” she said from behind, startling him. As he turned, she gave him an irritated look as if she knew he’d been snooping. “I put them in a room down the hall. I’ll get what we’ll need together and go load the horses.” Without another word, she disappeared out the front door.
Jamison found a flannel shirt, canvas jacket, a yellow slicker, jeans and several pairs of heavy socks along with a pair of cowboy boots waiting for him in what appeared to be a spare bedroom. He was surprised when everything fit fairly well.
Having changed quickly, he came out of the bedroom and listened for a moment to make sure Maddie had left the house before sticking his head in the other rooms. He found Maddie’s bedroom and the family photos he’d been looking for. In a wedding-day photograph, he studied an innocent-looking young Maddie standing next to a handsome young man.
She’d been beautiful. So fresh and sweet looking. She’d had that “I’m ready to conquer the world” look in those blue eyes of hers. She’d looked...happy.
There were later photos of the husband and Maddie and finally some of a son. So where were this son and husband now?
Stepping back out of the room, Jamison went into the kitchen to check on Dewey again. The boy still slept as if he hadn’t so much as dozed in days. In the living room, Jamison put in a call to the sheriff’s office again.
Lucille Brown, a good-natured older woman, was working dispatch today. She’d put through the earlier call from Fuzz Carpenter and had given him directions to the Diamond C.
“Can you provide me with some background information on Madison Conner?” he asked. Through the window, he could see Maddie talking to a man he suspected was the veterinarian she’d called earlier about Dewey’s horse.
“Maddie? What do you want to know? She raises sheep. She still sends her flock up into the high country every summer. Last of the ranches to do that. Gotta hand it to her. She’s tough as any woman I’ve ever met.”
Jamison could sure as hell attest to that. He’d probably met a more stubborn, headstrong woman in his life, but he couldn’t recall one.
“Does she have a son?” he asked just as Maddie turned and started back toward the house.
“Matthew. Lost him and her husband in a tragic accident four summers ago. Everyone thought she’d sell out and leave after that. But not Maddie. It’s her family’s place, but word around town is that it might not be for long. She’s had some tough breaks. If Fuzz is right and something has happened to Branch...”
“We don’t know that,” he said.
Just as Maddie reached the porch steps, a Sweetgrass County patrol car pulled in. “I’ve got to go,” Jamison told Lucille, and disconnected as Maddie came through the door.
“Ready?” She had a resigned look on her face as if braced for not only being forced to allow him to go along, but also for whatever she had to face up in those mountains.
Jamison had noticed the tall antenna on the roof when he was walking Dewey back to the house from the barn. He assumed it was for a radio and now saw the base unit on a table in the corner of the living room.
“Have you heard anything from Branch?” he asked, motioning to the two-way radio receiver.
“I haven’t talked to either of them since I left them four days ago. I already told you that.”
“But you tried to reach them.” She’d left an earlier coffee mug by the base unit. He was betting that the coffee was cold from this morning. So she had been worried, just as he suspected.
She swallowed and let out a sigh before she answered. “I tried to raise Branch this morning.”
“You couldn’t?”
“It doesn’t mean anything. He doesn’t like carrying the radio, so he often leaves it in camp.” She sounded defensive and not for the first time today.
“Why did you try to reach him this morning?”
“I was just checking—”
“You were worried because of Dewey.”
Her gaze came back to his, as determined as the set of her shoulders. “Are you trying to put words into my mouth, Deputy?”
“Sorry. What were you checking on?”
“Just to make sure they were doing all right.”
“You
