Chapter Twelve
Thursday, August 1 st .
Wild Stallion Ranch. Montana.
Me and Virge were so hungover from Dad’s party, we didn’t get up on time for chores. I dragged myself out of bed and had the horses fed and the barn almost cleaned up when Virge staggered in.
“Did I hear you puking outside in the dirt?”
“You might’ve,” he mumbled.
Out of sympathy, I tried not to laugh, but it was damned hard not to. What a mess he was. “How much did you drink last night, bro?”
“Same as you.”
I laughed. “Calling bullshit on that one, Virgie.” I pointed at a straw bale. “Sit there and try not to puke on the floor I just swept. I’m almost finished here.”
“Thanks, Harlan.”
“No sweat, little bro. You’d do the same for me.”
“Yeah, I owe you one.”
We headed into the kitchen for breakfast, and Virge was in dire need of black coffee. Billy was on the phone finishing up a call to somebody. “Yes. Thanks for the call.”
“What’s that about, Billy?” asked Travis.
“Six guys robbed Big Bear and got away with three million dollars,” said Billy.
“Wowzer,” said Virge. “Bet you saw those guys at Susie’s house. You and Ted saw five more going in, didn’t you?”
“Yep. Five guys went in, and Matt Goreman was already in there with his fake sister.”
“Who’s calling us with the news?” asked Travis.
“Montana State Crime,” said Billy. “They are the guys coordinating the investigation between the Res police—where the casino is situated—and Conrad PD.”
“Any fatalities?” I asked.
“Four dead at the scene including Susan Mannington.”
“Huh. I guess something went wrong for her,” said Virge. “Her pretend brother didn’t save her ass.”
“Did they use the guns from Charlie McNeil’s store?” I asked.
“Not sure they know that yet, Harlan,” said Billy, “but I’ll tell you one thing. Another robbery and murder so close to home made me decide something for sure.”
“Tell me what I want to hear, Billy,” said Travis.
“I’m done here when the election rolls around in November. I’ll have to finish out my term, but I’m not running again. Harrison County can get somebody new before I get shot and don’t get to enjoy my retirement in that hot state of fuckin’ Texas.”
Travis grinned. “Best news I’ve had today.”
Billy sighed. “Ted and I will tough it out together until then. Molly will probably decide the same thing when I tell her I’m going to Texas. She’s ready to pack it in too.”
“Good decision, Billy,” said Travis. “The boys will have your bed all made up for you when you get to our new spread in Lincoln.”
Billy grinned. “Thanks, guys. I just can’t picture staying here in Montana without my family. It would be the high shits.”
Billy left for work after making his big decision. Travis left for Cut Bank to finish odds and ends with his accountant, and that left me and Virge to get started on our ‘moving to Texas’ list.
It was a long one and we had so much shit to pack up and move it was scary.
“Dad wants to be in Texas at least a week ahead of when we’re closing on the new ranch,” I said to Virge, “so that means in two weeks we’ll be leaving for the drive down there towing the bikes and the horses.”
“Yep. It will take us at least four good days of solid driving to get there, all that stopping and whatnot.”
“When’s Dad renting us the big horse trailer?”
“Next week, I hope.” Then he paused, looking thoughtful. “When we get to Texas and our ranch ain’t ours yet,” asked Virge. “Where we gonna lay our heads down?”
“Not sure about that, but he did mention putting the horses in Mom’s corral while we waited.”
“Okay. We’ll be staying there then,” said Virge.
“Hope that’s true. Then I’ll have a week with Lucy before we move twenty or thirty miles away.”
Virge laughed at me. “Twenty miles ain’t far, you big wussy. You could run that far on foot with your backpack on your back if you had to.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
We went into the garage to start packing it up and throw out crap we never used. Virge pointed at the bikes. “Three bikes to trailer and our trailer only holds two. One will have to go in the load bed of one of the trucks.”
“Yep. Look at all that shit on the shelves and the workbench, bro. This is stuff we have to sort out this week. Go get a couple of trash bags from the kitchen.”
Virge lit up a smoke and sat on his Harley. “You go.”
Maynooth. Northern Ontario.
“This cute little cabin we live in, Cleo, is on a lake and we haven’t found the path to the water yet. It has to be through the woods and down the hill because we’ve looked in all three other directions. Come on, girl. Let’s go find the water.”
Cleo bounced around wagging her tail at the mention of the water.
“Yes, I know what breed you are. You’re a Newfoundlander and you’re the rescue dog for the Rock—that’s what they call Newfoundland in Canada.”
“Just like the Saint Bernards in the mountains, you do your rescue work in the ocean. How far can you swim, girl?”
With Cleo sprinting ahead, Bobby stomped through evergreen trees until he found the path and once he began following it, he was surprised how steep it was.
Hanging onto tree branches all the way down to keep from flying ass over teakettle, he made it to the bottom. Taking a breath on the shore, Bobby took in the nearly-new dock and the boathouse and marveled at the huge, shining lake in front of him.
“Look at that, Cleo. Fuckin’ amazing. What a gorgeous sight that is. If you want to go for a swim, don’t let me stop you.”
Bobby was surprised when Cleo ran along the dock and jumped right off the end into the water like she’d done it a hundred times before. Maybe she had.
He watched her swim a good ways out towards the middle, then turn a circle and swim back to him. With her great strength, she had no trouble jumping out of the water onto the dock.
“Wow, you were amazing, Cleo.” Bobby backed up. “Don’t you shake all that water all over me.” He laughed. Cleo shook twice and the water flew from her thick, black coat and made Bobby jump clear.
“There’s a boathouse over there, girl. Do you want to go fishing? Do you like riding in a boat?”
Cleo followed Bobby to the boathouse and jumped right into the boat and waited.
“Yep, you’re used to being near the water. This is going to be fun.”
Trauma Unit. Watertown. New York.
Her vital signs improved enough that the doctor taking care of her gave in and allowed Detective Carmichael and his partner to fingerprint the Jane Doe who had washed up on the bank of the Saint Lawrence River.
When they finished up and had the results, Carmichael said, “This girl is Deputy Sheriff Tammy Traynor/Bristol, and she’s wanted for several murders. She’s an escaped fugitive wanted for crimes all over the U.S.”
“Wow,” said Jones, Carmichael’s partner. “We grabbed us a winner.”
“She’s not a win for us if she regains consciousness,” said Carmichael. “There are a lot of charges ahead of us waiting for her. This girl will be spending her life in a prison infirmary somewhere other than New York State.”
“Yeah, I can’t see her recovering from this,” said Jones. “She’s pretty close to closing the book, and what is she?”
“Nineteen,” said Carmichael. “Unbelievable, a girl of nineteen could have committed all these thefts and murders and the kidnappings Tammy is charged with. Amazing.”
Jones frowned. “She’s a Deputy Sheriff, for chrissakes, Brody. What do you make of that piece of news?”
“Don’t know. It’s all pretty crazy. We’ll take this information back to the station and make some phone calls.”
“Roger that,” said Jones.
Health Sciences Center. Kingston. Ontario.
Willy had been getting out of bed sporadically and limping around the room and down the hospital corridors when he had spurts of energy and the pain in his damaged legs wasn’t too excruciating.
Anxious to get back to Gananoque to pick up George and Gracie, Willy talked to the nurses and obtained the address he needed. He thanked them for all the trouble they’d gone to for his dogs.
When the doctor made his rounds later in the day, and saw how well Willy was walking, he agreed to release him, with certain restrictions.
Willy had to get going and didn’t object to any restrictions. He agreed to all of it. Taking it easy, taking his meds, walking with a crutch for support, and a few more things.
Nothing he couldn’t handle.
On leaving the hospital, Willy waited for a cab outside on one of the benches.
The driver pulled up and was patient while Willy took a little extra time getting into the back seat. “You been in the hospital long?”
“Just a few days,” said Willy. “Dog bite. Nothing serious.”
“Where to?”
“The clinic in Gananoque. That’s where my truck is parked. They transferred me here.”
“Got it.” The cabbie took him back to the clinic where he’d been rescued from his old pickup and luckily, his truck was still there in the same spot. Not stolen or stripped of its tires.
Willy paid the driver and limped inside the clinic using his crutch. He wanted to see if the lady who had his dogs was at the clinic or if she was at home on a different shift.
While he waited in line, Willy heard the nurses talking to each other about a Jane Doe who was found floating in the Saint Lawrence River.
“Where did they take that girl?” Willy butted into the conversation because he had to know.
“To the Trauma Center in Watertown, New York. Last I heard, she was in a coma.”
“Thank you.” Willy stored that information away and asked about his dogs. He was told the lady who had the dogs was off shift and he’d find her at home.
He limped back to his pickup a little shook up. Tammy wasn’t dead. She was in a coma. That meant she had a chance to wake up. Wonderful news.
He drove to the cleaning woman’s house, not far from the clinic, and picked up the dogs and their food. George and Gracie were crazed to see him and amid jumping and barking and drooling, he managed to give the kind woman who cared for them fifty bucks for her trouble.
Willy’s direction changed when he found out about Tammy. She was alive and he couldn’t ignore that. Willy had to return to the U.S., and happily, he was only a few miles from the bridge.
Sheriff’s Office. Coyote Creek. Montana.
Billy received the strange call from Detective Carmichael of the Watertown PD. “Sheriff Johnson, I’m looking for Sheriff Frost. I have information about his daughter, Tammy.”
“That’s wonderful,” said Billy. “You can tell me. I’m Sheriff Frost’s partner and a member of his family.”
“Tammy Traynor/Bristol was found floating in the Saint Lawrence River in upper New York State. She had no identification when found, and was brought in as a Jane Doe. She’s now resting in the Trauma Care Unit in Watertown.”
“Is she badly injured?” asked Billy.
“Very badly injured and she’s in a coma. The doctor isn’t sure she’ll ever wake up.”
“I see. I’ll tell her father, and he’ll probably call you for more details, Detective.”
“That’s fine. I may have more information on her by the time he calls. She’s wanted on a great many charges if she ever does wake up.”
“That’s true. She was in a mental facility for a long period of time,” said Billy. “Things have been difficult for her father, him being a county sheriff and Tammy being one of his deputies—it’s been hell for him.”
“I can imagine. Tell him I’m looking forward to his call.”
“I’ll do that, sir. Appreciate hearing from you.”
Billy called Travis straightaway and relayed all of the information including Carmichael’s cell number.
“Holy shit, Billy. What do they want me to do?”
“Nothing you can do, Travis. Tammy is in a coma in a hospital. Talk to the Detective and have him call you when she wakes up and they move her. That’s all you can do. They won’t let her go.”
“Copy that.”
Wild Stallion Ranch. Montana.
Me and Virge came in the from the garage to take a break from our packing and Travis had just hung up from a call from Billy. “Sit down, boys. Gotta tell y’all something.”
“What, Dad? You look kinda pale. They find Tammy?”
“Yep. Tammy was found floating in a river in New York State and she’s in a coma in a trauma unit out there. They know all about the charges against her and they’ll call us when she wakes up.”
“Huh,” said Virge. “I guess it’s good to know where she is. That’s one thing less to worry about.”
Travis nodded. “One less thing, son.”
Trauma Unit. Watertown. New York.
Willy crossed the Ivy Lea Bridge into New York state and drove twenty-five miles south to Watertown. Following the directions in the GPS he arrived at the Trauma Unit.
“This is where Tammy is, doggies. Aren’t y’all happy she isn’t dead? I know I am. Maybe someday we’ll all be a family again.”
Using his crutch for support, Willy limped through the hospital. He asked at two different nurses’ stations where Tammy was and finally arrived at the intensive care unit.
Thinking he’d soon get to see her, he stopped abruptly when he saw the guard standing at the door of the ICU. No way he could get in to see her.
Once he explained who he was and why he wanted to sit with Tammy, he would’ve implicated himself and confessed to aiding and abetting a wanted fugitive.
He turned around before anyone noticed him and headed back to the parking lot.
Sad and close to tears, Willy climbed into his pickup. “We can’t see Tammy, doggies. She won’t be better or out of jail for a long, long time. We’ll go home to North Carolina and wait in our cabin until the dust settles around Tammy.”
George and Gracie both had sad faces when they heard the news.