Chapter Sixteen
Thursday, August 28 th .
Coulter-Ross Ranch. La Grange.
So many people to feed, Annie held two sittings for breakfast at the long harvest table in the kitchen. Once the cowboys ate and went to the barn or to the fields to work, she sat down to eat with Travis and all the kids.
Rosalie and Riley were both hard at work in the kitchen. As soon as they finished with breakfast, they moved onto preparations for lunch. A full-time job feeding the forty odd people who lived on the Coulter-Ross ranch.
Corb was a quiet kid, but he seemed to be settling in well. He was a couple of years younger than Harlan, Lucy, Virge and Jacks, and talked to Davey more than the older kids.
“You have errands to run today, Travis?” asked Annie.
“I have to drop a check off to Kevin Bennett for the closing of the ranch tomorrow. My ranch in Montana closed yesterday and Billy collected the money from the lawyer’s office and put it in the bank for me. If it’s all square, I should be covered for today when I write the huge check I don’t want to write.” He laughed.
“Well planned, sugar,” said Annie.
Travis laughed. “Most of my brains have been pounded out, but I managed that one on my own.”
Annie glanced at Corb, “You’ve got a good start on your new project.”
“Happened by chance,” said Travis. “He’s a good little guy.”
“Have you heard anything about Tammy?”
“Yes. I found out a couple of days ago that she’s in the trauma center in Watertown in upper New York State. She was found in the Saint Lawrence River, tied up and badly beaten. Half drowned and in a coma.”
“Do they have any idea who would’ve done that?” asked Annie. “And why way up there? Was she on her way back to Canada?”
“No idea. Before that, all I knew was the location of her truck accident. That was in North Carolina.”
“She gets around,” said Annie.
“Makes me nervous,” said Travis. “If I hear anything else, I’ll keep you posted, Annie-girl.”
“Thanks. I worry about her constantly.”
Smithville ReMax.
Travis left Harlan to take care of the horses and spend time with Lucy like he wanted to, and he took Virge and Corb with him to the real estate office up in Smithville.
“Welcome, Travis.” Kevin Bennett stood up to shake Travis’s hand when he walked into the office. Kevin was a large guy who wore cowboy shirts with one of those little string ties with a bull on it. Always smiling. He was either a happy guy or faking it. “Did your sale in Montana go well for you?”
“Yes. My partner handled all the details for me, and it went smoothly.”
“Glad to hear it,” said Kevin. “Sometimes things can get badly messed up.”
“Nope. All good. The check I’m going to write you should be good as gold.”
Kevin laughed. “That’s good news. We’ll avoid all kinds of legal hassles.”
Travis sat down at Kevin’s desk, pulled out his checkbook and signed away a few million bucks. He hadn’t had it in his possession long enough to get used to being a millionaire.
“Practically painless.” More laughing from Kevin as Travis handed him the check for the new ranch. “Tomorrow I’ll pick up everything from the lawyer’s office and bring it all to you.”
“Thanks. I’m staying at Annie’s one more night, and my horses are in her corral for a couple more days.”
“Won’t be far to trailer them once you’re settled in.”
“True enough.” Travis shook Kevin’s hand one more time and the deal was done.
“Done deal, Dad,” said Virge. “We get our new ranch tomorrow. Wonder when our furniture and all the rest of our shit is coming on the big truck?”
“Supposed to arrive tomorrow, Virge. If it doesn’t, we’ll be spending a night at the Budget Inn.”
“That’s okay. We can hack it for another day, Dad. We’re almost home free.”
“Yeah, we are, Virge. We’re almost all the way there.”
Route Seventy-One. Southeast of Smithville.
Heading south on route seventy-one back to Coulter-Ross, Travis heard more than one Harley behind him. He glanced in the rearview to confirm it.
“Yep, there they are, Virge.”
Virge was already on it. “Six of them, Dad.”
A deserted stretch of highway came up and the bikes ganged together and forced Travis’s pickup off the shoulder of the road.
“Good a place as any to kill them, Virge.” Travis pulled over and parked the truck. He grabbed for the door handle and shouted at Corb. “Lie down on the floor, Corb. Do it now.”
Virge jumped out of the passenger seat with his gun in his hand and came around the truck from the opposite way.
Three of the Breed were on Travis before he could get a shot off at any of them.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
Virge took the other three down with lightning-fast knee shots and when they fell, he finished them with head shots where they lay. No chance of them shooting at him or Travis when they were down. That happened to him before, and lesson learned. It would never happen again.
He ran around the truck where Travis was fighting off three big bikers waving blades.
Bang.
He had a clear shot at the back of the head of one of them and that guy toppled into the ditch with his brains leaking into the long grass.
Virge shouted, “Get off him or I’ll kill both you fuckers.”
Bang.
Another one rolled off with a bullet in his gut from Travis’s Sig.
Bang.
The last one raised his knife to plunge it into Travis again and Virge shot him in the ear. The fuckers were too stupid to give up.
In a frenzy of adrenaline mixed with fear for Travis, Virge kicked the bikers away from Travis to see the damage done to his father. A lot of blood gushing through Travis’s clothes. There were at least two, possibly three stab wounds.
Travis held his phone in his hand pressing a number. “I’m okay, Virgie. You did good.”
Virge opened the back door of the truck. “It’s okay now, Corb. Dad ain’t dead, but those assholes were giving it their best shot.”
Corb sat up, pale as death himself and peered at the carnage.
“I called Blacky,” said Travis. “He’ll be here soon and he’s sending an ambulance. Virge, I want you to stay here and hold the scene when the ambulance comes and give your statement to Ranger Blackmore. Corb can come in the ambulance with me. You come to the hospital in Smithville to get us when you’re done.”
“I got it, Dad. Sirens coming now.”
A big Escalade parked on the wrong side of the road and two big guys with long black hair hopped out and came rushing over.
“Casey,” said Travis. He was lying in a pool of bloody gravel on the side of the highway. “Hey, Blacky.”
“Jesus Christ, Travis. This is one fucking mess.”
Travis smiled. “Virgie is my designated shooter.”
“Nice job, Virge,” said Blacky.
“Thanks. Those fuckers were bent on killing my Dad.”
Blacky grinned. “They have been for a while now. This was a pretty close one, by the looks of it.”
The ambulance came next, and the paramedics loaded Travis and took him and Corb to the hospital. I was glad Corb was gone with Dad because he was close to puking or crying or some of both. Don’t think the kid was used to being deputy sheriff’s like me and Harlan were.
Ranger Blackmore was nice and so was Casey, his brother—looked like his brother. I told them what happened, and they didn’t seem surprised.
“The Breed knows Travis is back in Texas,” said Casey. “This won’t be the end of it.”
“They hate him from when he was Dale Burden,” I said.
“Yep. The club has a long memory,” said Ranger Blackmore. “They’ll make an effort every now and again to settle the score.”
“Think that’s enough for now?” I asked.
Blaine shook his long black hair. “Doubt it.”
“Shit,” said Virge. “Now they’ll be pissed at me.”
Smithville General Hospital.
The GPS found the hospital for me, then inside I was on my own to find Travis. He was in one of the emergency treatment rooms being sewn up and the nurse with him sent me to the waiting area.
Corb was curled up in a chair in the corner looking scared and pale. I sat down next to him and pulled out my wallet. “I checked on Dad and the doc is sewing him up. You want a Coke and a candy bar?”
“I could use a drink.”
I gave him five bucks and sent him off in search of a vending machine. “Don’t get lost. I’ll be right here waiting for you. I have to call Harlan and let him know about Travis.”
“Okay. I’ll be right back.”
Harlan answered on the first ring and snapped at me. “Why the hell aren’t you and Dad back yet?”
“Them Black Breed assholes caught us on the highway and I’m at the hospital in Smithville—wherever the hell that is—and a doctor is sewing Dad up. Had to wait for the Rangers n’all to come for the guys I had to shoot.”
“Jesus H., Virgil. I want to hear every fuckin’ detail. Why did I have to miss that?”
“Soon as they let Dad go, we’ll be home. Corb is getting us Cokes out of a machine, but he was kind of shaken up and scared shitless.”
“Okay. Waiting for you on the porch.”
“Copy that.”
Trauma Unit. Watertown. New York.
On one of her frequent trips to the bathroom, Tammy wandered out the door of her room and slipped unnoticed into the room next door.
Two women were sleeping or unconscious and they were almost completely covered by blankets. Tammy couldn’t see their bodies to gauge what size they wore.
She opened the closet and grabbed the first bag she saw. Walked a few steps down the corridor and went into the ladies’ room.
The clothes were too big, but they had to do until she found a better fit. The jeans were the worst, but the cotton shirt covered the sagging waistband. A belt would be helpful, but there wasn’t one in the bag.
The shoes barely stayed on her feet as she walked, but she’d get rid of them soon enough. Tammy slipped them off once she entered the stairwell.
With the trainers in her hand, she ran down to the main floor barefoot. She stuck her feet in the shoes at the bottom level, opened the door and ran out the closest exit.
In a hurry to get to the street, she moved too fast for the condition she was in and was forced to sit down when she came to a low stone wall in front of a big house.
She sat there until her head cleared and had enough strength to stand up again. Gingerly getting to her feet, Tammy tried one step at a time until she was sure her legs would hold her.
She shuffled along—walking slowly and carefully until she had to sit down. She rested and then began walking again.
Using this method, she found what she was looking for several hours later. On the other side of a six-lane highway, Tammy spotted a truck stop.
International Truck Stop. New York State.
Without her purse, her wallet or a nickel to her name, there was only one thing Tammy could do. She sat at one of the picnic tables outside the truck stop restaurant and watched the trucks pull off the highway.
Finally, a big red Freightliner drove in and parked in the long line of shiny eighteen-wheelers. Tammy let out a sigh of relief as she got to her feet and followed the driver into the restaurant.
The restaurant was busy like all the other truck stops she’d been to, and there was a lot of noise and movement of customers and servers.
Tammy felt the warmth of familiarity. Long days of trucking with Eldon filled her senses and warmed her heart. A sense of belonging filled her and made her smile.
She edged closer to the driver’s table where he sat alone. The owner of the red Freightliner was a cute guy in his thirties with shaggy brown hair and when he noticed her and looked away from the menu, he had a nice smile.
He reminded her a bit of Eldon and she spoke to him in a weak but friendly voice. “Sorry to bother you, but I’m looking for a ride.”
He stared at the scabs and bruises all over her and for a second she thought he was going to call security.
“I don’t always look this bad,” she said, “but I just got out of the hospital.”
“You sustained a lot of damage to your face and arms there, girl. It looks like somebody laid a bad beating on you.”
“Yeah, they did.” Tammy felt faint and asked, “Do you mind if I sit down for a minute?”
Without waiting for an answer, she slid into the bench seat facing the trucker and lowered her head until the dizziness passed. When she looked up again, she said, “I’m Tammy.”
“I’m Glen. Do you want water or a coffee? For a minute there, you looked like you were passing out.”
“A coffee would help. Thanks. I lost all my stuff when the guy beat me up and tossed me into the river. I’m not homeless, if that’s what you’re thinking. I do have a bank account but no card to access my money.”
“You have to get a new card at the bank,” said Glen. “Then you can access your account.”
“But they won’t even talk to me without ID. They’ve got me there.”
“I see what you mean. You’re in a predicament. How about a sandwich?”
“I’m okay,” said Tammy. “Don’t waste your money on me, Glen.”
Glen waved the server over and ordered the lunch special for himself and coffee and a turkey sandwich for Tammy.
“Where are you headed?” Driven by an unknown source, even in her most weakened condition, Tammy pursued her quest to find Eldon.
“I’m hauling a load to Northern Ontario.”
Tammy was happy to hear Glen’s destination. She wasn’t sure where Eldon was, but she thought he might be hiding out at her mama’s cabin.
When they were together as a couple, they’d talked about the cabin on Baptiste Lake and discussed going there to hide out if they needed to. Eldon would’ve remembered that because he was smart, and he was a good listener. He never got mixed up in his head like she did.
“You mind if I catch a ride to wherever you’re going, Glen? I won’t cause you any trouble. I promise you that.”
Glen laughed. “I don’t see how you could cause anybody too much trouble, girl. You’re pale and look as weak as a kitten. I believe your story about being in the hospital.”
“I was in the ICU for days.” Tammy took a bite of the sandwich the server brought her. “Not sure how long I was in there. They said I was in a coma.”
Glen’s eyes widened. “How did you get here from the hospital? I know how far it is from the highway.”
“I walked.”
“Jesus, Tammy. No wonder you look like walking death.”
General Store. Gray Hill. Northern Ontario.
Bobby and Cleo drove down the highway heading for Bancroft to do grocery shopping at one of the bigger markets.
As they passed the little general store not far from their cabin, Cleo barked at all the cars and vans clustered around the store and parked on both sides of the road.
Cops were milling around and stringing yellow tape all over the place.
Bobby slowed right down and hung his head out the driver’s side window. He hollered to one of the looky-loos and asked what was going on.
“Somebody killed the old guy who runs the store. Smashed his head in.”
“Huh,” said Bobby. “Too bad. I liked that old fart.”
“Yep. It’s a damned shame. He’s owned that store for as long as I can remember.”
“Yep. Damned shame.” Bobby turned to Cleo, “I guess he won’t be making any phone calls to Texas anytime soon.”
Cleo wagged her tail.
Coulter-Ross Ranch. La Grange. Texas.
Virge drove Travis home from the hospital full of stitches, covered in bandages, high on pain meds and barely able to move.
Harlan ran down off the porch to help Virge get Travis out of the Jeep. “Jesus Christ, Dad, why did you leave me at home? I could’ve helped you and Virge with the fucking bikers.”
Travis gave Harlan a drugged glance. “Didn’t expect them in broad daylight, son. Never crossed my mind.”
“Six of them, Harlan,” said Corb. “Virge did good. He shot them like them crazy cops do on TV.”
“Yep, I’m sure he did. Know how I know that? Because my father is still alive. That’s how.” Harlan was pretty worked up.
Virge on one side and Harlan on the other, they walked Travis up the porch steps and sat him down in one of the wicker chairs.
Annie came running out with a coffee and a shot of whiskey for him. “Here, drink this, honey bun. Harlan told me what happened.”
“Thanks.” Travis tossed back the shot and then sipped the hot coffee. “Yeah, six of them. Good thing I had Virgie with me.”
“They’re coming at you pretty aggressively in broad daylight, sugar pop.”
“Yeah,” Travis sighed. “Blacky is going to pursue the attack at the top of the club level. He warned me to step away from it.”
“That’s exactly what you should do. If Blaine says he’s on it, then his boys will go to Houston and do what they do best.”
“Not sure I can let somebody fight my battles for me, Annie-girl. It’s my fight.”
“Yours and mine,” said Annie. “They just don’t know about me.”
Travis smiled. “And I don’t want them to.”
Annie sat down next to him and stroked his blood-splattered hair.
Maynooth. Northern Ontario.
Bobby had the groceries all put away and he was enjoying a beer on the back porch when Cleo barked and ran around to the front of the cabin.
Taking his time, Bobby sauntered around figuring it had to be the cops. They’d be knocking on every door on the lake road looking for a lead into the old man’s murder.
“Howdy, sir,” said the cop in the dark blue uniform. OPP embroidered on his pocket and on his hat.
These guys were provincial. Probably no local cops up here. The population was too small to warrant it.
“You probably saw the police presence at the general store and know what happened to Mister Peck. News travels fast up here.”
“Yeah, I heard when I went to Bancroft for groceries earlier. Too bad. Nice old guy. I buy my gas and smokes at his store. Did.”
“Yeah, a lot of local people will miss Old Peck.”
“That’s a fact.”
“If you happen to see any strangers hanging around, would you call the Bancroft detachment of the Ontario Provincial Police?” The cop handed Bobby a card.
“Sure. I’ll do that. Was it a robbery?”
“Looks like it. Only the cash was missing from the register. Nothing else was touched.”
“Huh.”
After the cop left, Bobby and Cleo took a walk down the steep hill to the lake. Bobby stood on the end of the dock and tossed his old blood-encrusted tire iron way out into the middle of the calm water.
“I bought a new one at Canadian Tire when we were in town earlier, Cleo. I wouldn’t want to be without one for too long. That’s like being without my best friend.”
Peterborough Logistics. Northern Ontario.
Glen pulled into the depot in the industrial park just off the bypass in the city of Peterborough. He backed up, dropped the loaded trailer and left Tammy in the cab of the Freightliner while he went into the office to sort out his paperwork.
While he was inside waiting to pick up his money, Tammy climbed over into the drivers’ seat, started the truck and drove out to the highway.