Cat Spitting Mad by Shirley Rousseau Murphy Page A

that?”
    â€œRay and Davis have been over every inch.”
    â€œThere have to be two shoes. And you said on the phone that your boot prints were at the scene. But you were up there searching. Of course your prints would be—”
    â€œThe prints were under the victim’s prints. And partial prints under their bodies. The only time I got off Bucky was when I first arrived, to check the bodies. That set of prints was clear. There were other prints like them, underneath.”
    â€œSome son of a bitch has gone to a lot of trouble. How would he get your boots? Could he replicate them?”
    â€œThey’re Justin’s. I buy them up the valley, at the Boot Barn. Those soles were the same shape, same size. No problem there. But they had the same worn places on the left heel and right sole.”
    â€œSo the guy stole your boots, then put them back. Or he took a cast of your boots somewhere. Fixed up an identical pair. Same with the horseshoes. Somewhere, that night, was there another horse wearing the same shape of shoe with the same scar?”
    â€œI think the guy took Bucky. Came in the house, took my boots and the knife, then returned with them.”
    â€œDid he have time to do that?”
    â€œYes, he would have. I left about three forty-five. Helen and Ruthie were killed around five o’clock. And when I came back to change cars, I didn’t go in thehouse or the stable. He could still have had Bucky.
    â€œAnd later, when we got the missing report and I went home to get Bucky, he was nervous—irritable and tired. The horse was tired, Clyde. And Bucky is in top shape.
    â€œI’d ridden him for some four hours, then put him up. He’d had plenty of rest—or should have—before I took him out again on the search.
    â€œI was irritated at myself, when I saddled him to go look for the Marners, for not rubbing him down very well, after lunch. He had saddle marks, though I could have sworn I cleaned him up. Had what looked like quirt marks on his side and rump. I thought he’d been rubbing himself again. And his bridle was hung up differently than I hang it. I thought that strange, thought I’d been preoccupied.” Harper paused, then, “Pretty unobservant, for a cop.”
    Clyde said nothing.
    â€œThe bridle. The saddle marks, Bucky’s condition. The boot prints and hoofprints. And Gedding has received two anonymous phone calls—he thinks from the same man—that I was seen leaving the restaurant at noon riding Bucky up the mountain, in the opposite direction from my place. Following the Marners and Dillon.
    â€œThe day after the murder, Davis walked the trail that the Marners and Dillon rode. The first half mile above the restaurant, they rode on deep gravel. No prints of any value. But where you can see hoofprints, there’s the same scar-marked print, coming along behind their three horses.
    â€œNot a lot of people ride that trail, it’s rough andsteep. Davis said that deer trails crossed the hoofprints in two places, heading down to water and back again up toward the forest.”
    Joe tried to imagine a stranger riding up that mountain following the three riders. A stranger riding Harper’s horse? A stranger who had taken Bucky after Harper left for work, and beat it down to the restaurant, to leave hoofprints following the Marners. Then followed them, killed them, and took out after Dillon. And then brought Bucky home, put him back in his stall.
    â€œI’ve turned the department over to Brennan. Likely Davis and Ray will be off the case when Gedding’s man gets here. Dallas Garza. San Francisco PD. I’ve moved the horses up to Campbell Ranch, and the pups, too. They’ll be fine. I need a place to stay—where someone will know what I’m up to.”
    Clyde was silent for some time. When he spoke, his voice was low and angry. “You’re quitting. Just quitting—stepping back like that.