Chapter Fifteen

Sunday, July 14 th .

Wild Stallion Ranch. Montana.

“Dad, do you know how fuckin hot it’s gonna be wearing our suits in the middle of July?”

“Sure do, Virge.” Travis set a plate of sunny side up eggs on the table and popped down four slices of bread in the toaster.

“It will be just as hot for the rest of us too, but only for a few hours. Then y’all can come home and take your suits off.”

“What time is the funeral, Billy?” I asked.

“Eleven, Harlan, and then the reception afterwards.”

Travis buttered the toast and put it on a plate. “We’ll stay at the reception long enough to give our condolences to Kody’s wife and that will be it. When we’re finished in town, we’ll come home, saddle the horses and go for a long ride.”

“All of us?” asked Virge.

“Yep. Billy can ride Bonnie Grace.”

“Yep,” said Virge. “She ain’t been ridden enough since…” He shut up and shoved another piece of toast into his mouth.

“That will be fun,” said Billy. “I haven’t ridden a horse since I chopped my fuckin leg in half.”

“But you didn’t forget how, did you, Billy?”

“Hell no, Virge. I grew up in Montana. I was in the saddle as soon as I could sit up. I think I was six months old when I first rode solo. My mom has pictures.”

“Calling bullshit on that one, Billy,” said Virge.

Travis snorted.

Love’s Truck Stop. Atlanta. Georgia.

Tammy opened her eyes and was surprised to see a naked body in the sleeper next to her. Guilt flooded through her veins making her feel like she’d cheated on Eldon. That spawned an even uglier and more disturbing thought—had Eldon been cheating on her?

The naked guy rolled over and through a hungover drug haze, Tammy recognized him as Rick, the guy she’d had coffee with the night before.

He flashed her a smile. “I’ve got morning wood for you, girl. You up for it? Want me to show you what I’ve got?”

“No thanks,” said Tammy. “I’ve got to get going.”

“You told me you were taking it easy for a couple of days because of your leg and now you’re in a hurry to get rid of me?”

“Come on, Rick. Go back to your own truck. I have to go inside to use the bathroom and get cleaned up, then I’m leaving.”

“Where you going, Tammy?” Rick had a sarcastic ring to his voice. “I bet you don’t even know. I can tell when a chick is trying to get rid of me.”

Tammy laughed. “That means you’ve had lots of practice.”

“That ain’t what I meant.”

Tammy tried hard to think of places Eldon talked about going, but her brain wasn’t working right.

Rich taunted her. “See, you can’t even tell me where you’re headed. You’ve got nowhere to go.”

Her thoughts all messed up from the strong pain pills, she gave Rick a shove and reached for her clothes. She pulled a T-shirt over her head and grabbed her filthy uniform pants—the only thing that would go over the bandage.

Rick sat up watching her and made a face. “That’s a gross looking bandage you have on your leg, girl.”

“Don’t look at it if it bothers you.”

“Look at all that pus and blood soaked through the tape. Got any clean gauze or tape on hand? I could change that for you before you put those dirty pants on. I can see you getting an infection pretty damned soon. A mess like you’ve got could turn into gangrene and you could lose your leg.”

“You a doctor?” Tammy laughed at Rick.

“Almost a paramedic. Hadn’t quite finished the course when I got the chance to buy my truck. Couldn’t pass up the deal.”

“I won’t get infection,” said Tammy. “I’ll change the bandage later.” She finished pulling on the dirty pants and struggled out of the sleeper.

“Hang on a minute, Tammy. Don’t be so fucking testy. I’ll go inside with you and grab a coffee.”

“Coffee is what I need.” Tammy shook a pill out of the vial and popped it in her mouth. She shoved the pill bottle into her pocket before she jumped out of the truck. She needed them handy—just in case she needed another one in a hurry. Sometimes the pain came in waves and one or two pills wouldn’t stop it.

“Slow down,” hollered Rick as he climbed out behind her. “You can be annoying.”

“So can you,” mumbled Tammy.

Burke & Burke Funeral Home. Coyote Creek.

Hundreds of game wardens from all across Montana attended Kody Kollard’s funeral to pay their respects. It was a huge event for Coyote Creek and all of Harrison County.

The funeral home parking lot overflowed and vehicles were parked up and down the street. The Burke brother’s place was a small facility, and they weren’t equipped to handle a funeral of this magnitude.

“Look at all those guys in uniform,” said Virgil. “I can’t believe so many of them turned out on a fuckin hot day like this.”

“Show of respect,” said Billy. “Cops do it too. Firefighters, as well.”

“Bikers,” mumbled Travis. “Thousands of bikers will turn out when one of their own has fallen.”

“You sound sad, Dad,” said Virge. “Did that happen to you?”

“Couple of times,” said Travis. “Long time ago.”

“Will you tell me about it sometime, Dad?” asked Virge in a whisper.

“Yeah, I might.”

Virge nodded and I knew he wouldn’t forget about it. My brother was always prodding Dad about his biker days. Seemed to fascinate him.

“After what happened to Joe, Linda and now Kody,” said Travis, “I’m convinced being a game warden is a helluva dangerous job.”

“Worse than being a cop?” I asked.

“Think about it, Harlan,” said Billy. “In hunting season, the wardens are checking the licenses and the count of drunk hunters who all have high-powered rifles in their hands. Usually they’re in pairs or in groups of four and that makes them even more dangerous. A terrible situation to walk into.”

“I see what you mean, Billy. Fuck that.”

After the lengthy, heart-wrenching service for young Kody, everyone moved to the reception room at the back of the funeral home.

The funeral director, Harry Burke, had seated Mrs. Kollard in an armchair in the corner of the room. Dozens of wardens in uniform were lined up to offer their condolences.

Travis figured they’d skip the lineup in favor of speaking to her at home in a few days when she was feeling better.

The big boss from Montana Fish and Wildlife, Oscar Fillmore, asked for a minute of Travis’s time and they moved into the hallway for a private conversation.

“Sheriff, what can you tell me about the men who murdered Kody?”

“We have the two young men responsible for Kody’s death in custody and we have enough evidence for the DA to support a solid case against them when we go to trial.”

Fillmore was a big guy. Six four. Gray buzz cut.

“I’d like to see them for myself, Sheriff Frost. I want to speak to the two boys who murdered one of my game wardens.”

“I’m afraid that’s not possible at our jail, sir. We have no visitation facilities. The boys will be transported to the county courthouse tomorrow morning for their arraignment, and you will be able to see them then. That’s the best I can do.”

“I see. You wouldn’t make an exception?”

“I’m sorry, I can’t let you into the run.”

“Do you think the boys will be freed on bail tomorrow, Sheriff?”

“I don’t. The Arnott boy will have an attorney with him, and I’m not sure if Trevor Carpenter will have legal representation. I’ve petitioned the DA’s office in Cut Bank to argue against bail for Trevor Carpenter in particular. He is the instigator in the murder, and I have strong suspicions that he may be guilty of other crimes as well. I just don’t have the evidence to charge him with the other felonies at this time.”

“He sounds like a bad one.”

“Indulged to the extreme by his doting father and this is where it led,” said Travis. “It will be up to the judge whether he feels bail is justified. I can’t predict what will happen tomorrow morning.”

“I thank you for your candor, Sheriff. Appreciate it, greatly.”

“Happy to help, sir.”

Wild Stallion Ranch.

Dad gave the signal that we were done at the reception, and we left the air-conditioned building and crossed the hot-as-hell asphalt to get to our trucks.

“Take your jackets and your ties off, boys. The trucks are going to be fry factories until we get up the road a bit and the air kicks in.”

Virge tugged at his tie. “I’m so happy to get this goddamned thing off my neck.”

My brother made me laugh about fifty times a day. I should start keeping track.

When we got to the ranch, me and Virge hung up our suits, changed into cutoffs and didn’t bother with shirts. Lucky enough to have First Nation Blood in us we wouldn’t burn like a blonde guy—like our dad.

Billy had a little trouble saddling Bonnie Grace. She’d been a little out of sorts since Tammy left the ranch and wasn’t giving her all the attention she was used to.

We helped Billy and he had more trouble getting into the saddle using his bad leg. Once he was up, there was no problem at all. He was an excellent rider.

How could he not be? He’d been riding since he was six months old. I was still laughing at that.

Ashville. North Carolina.

Tammy left Rick at the truck stop in the morning and drove all day on coffee and little white pills. Not having any idea where she was headed, Tammy drove north through the Carolinas enjoying the gorgeous scenery.

Around twilight, the pills began wearing off and a huge jolt of pain shot through her body and paralyzed her brain and temporarily disabled her motor skills.

High in the mountains where the roads were narrow and anything but straight, Tammy lost strength in her arms and couldn’t turn the wheel fast enough.

She missed the sharp turn on the switchback and the huge Freightliner careened to the right and smashed through the guardrail.

Tammy had no time to react or to scream before the truck plummeted down and down the side of the mountain into a deep gorge.

No idea how long she’d been unconscious, before the sound of sirens forced her to wake up. She tried to think and clear the fogginess out of her brain, but her neck hurt and so did all the rest of her.

If she was lying in the truck when the rescue crew got to her, the police would haul her off to jail.

How badly was she hurt?

No time to check her body parts for specific injuries to see what was working and what was broken. The pain seemed to be massive in a head-to-foot way, so she figured more than one part of her body was badly damaged.

It would take the cops and the Fire and Rescue a long while to get down to the bottom of the ravine, so she had time to get out of the truck and put some distance between her and the truck she liked so much.

If she had broken bones, the going would be slow.

“I’ve got to try to get out of the truck.”

Tammy tried the handle on the driver’s door, and it was broken off. The door had caved in against her and trapped her between the door and the airbag.

The airbag was pushing her back against the seat and she had to fight her way through the tiny opening to her right. That meant she had to climb up and over the console to get to the passenger door and get out of the truck.

As she began moving and using her body, her left arm and shoulder hurt a lot. She noticed the left side of her head was bleeding too. Her hair was matted and all sticky with blood.

She had nothing to wipe the blood away with. Her bag of clothes was in the sleeper, but she couldn’t get to them.

Tammy fought through the pain because she had to if she wanted to survive. She forced herself to crawl over the console. It was the only way out of the truck.

The sirens grew louder and were screaming up on the highway far above her head. She had to hurry.

As she flopped over the console into the passenger seat letting out a loud groan, she recognized the familiar pain of the dog bite rearing its head.

She reached down with her functioning right hand and felt the fresh blood soaked through her pants.

“The stitches came apart.”

Tammy fumbled for the door handle on the passenger side and with a little pressure, the door opened.

In the pitch dark, she couldn’t see that the sidestep had been torn right off the truck. As soon as she opened the door, with the precarious angle the truck was on, she fell out.

A little squeal escaped her lips as she dropped several feet through the blackness and hit the ground hard.

She rolled and rolled farther down the steep embankment until a big boulder stopped her dead and knocked the wind out of her.

So dark, Tammy couldn’t see a thing. Off in the distance miles away, she thought she saw lights but she could’ve been seeing stars after hitting the boulder so hard.

Looking for something closer to focus on, there was nothing but a faint flicker she could see through the trees. It had to be at least a mile away, but it was her only chance of getting help.

She crawled on her hands and knees along the bottom of the ravine towards the light. The ground was rough and stoney and wet in places.

Tammy crawled through muck and mud. Sticks poked into her hands and arms cutting her up. Slimy grass and thorny bushes made her shiver but she kept going.

She crawled for what seemed like hours, stopping to rest and then crawling a bit farther. No idea how far away from the truck she was when she heard voices and a lot of noise far behind her.

The Fire and Rescue guys were coming down the mountain to see if there was anybody in the truck they could save.

Trouble was, when they found no driver, they’d begin searching even harder. That’s the way they’d handle a similar situation in her sheriff’s office back in Montana.

The light became a little brighter as she got closer, but she was tired. All her strength was used up and she knew she couldn’t make it.

“I’m going to die here.”

She closed her eyes and gave in to the blackness.

Watson Cabin. Great Smokies. North Carolina.

Willy-John Watson sat on his porch with a Mason jar of moonshine in his hand. He wasn’t a big drinker but didn’t mind a drink at night to help him sleep.

Beautiful warm evening and he played his banjo for a bit and then put it aside just to enjoy the weather. A bit of a breeze picked up and something on the wind roused George and Gracie, his two faithful hounds.

Walker/Blue Tick cross they were the best coon hunters for miles around. Fierce hunters. Willy-John had been offered ten times what they were worth, but he’d never sell them. Why would he? They were his family.

You don’t sell family.

The dogs woke up when that light breeze hit their sensitive noses. They snapped to attention and ran down off the porch.

“Where y’all going in the dark?” asked Willy. He got up off his wooden chair, went into the kitchen and came out with his shotgun. “I’d better come with y’all.”

Willy trudged along following the sound of the dogs tonguing. They were definitely onto something. Then they stopped baying and Willy knew they found what they were looking for.

The coon would be up the tree waiting for him, or if it was a rabbit, they’d have it ripped apart when he caught up to them.

He trudged on for another quarter mile and found them. Not a rabbit or a coon. Nope. They were lying beside a girl.

“What you got there?”

Willy didn’t have a flashlight with him, and he couldn’t see her face clearly, but in the moonlight he could plainly see she was covered in blood. Smelled of it too, and that’s the scent the dogs had picked up.

Fresh blood.

“Uh huh.”

Willy knelt down and put two fingers on the girl’s neck. “She ain’t dead, doggies. But close to it. Nice work. Now we have to get her back to the cabin.”

Looking over his shoulder, he figured they’d come at least a half mile. Be a bitch dragging her back home.

Willy slung his shotgun over his shoulder, picked up the girl and flopped her over his other shoulder. Thin and limp, she didn’t weigh much more than a hundred pounds. Maybe a hundred and ten.

He started walking.

George and Gracie ran on ahead doing a little whining. They weren’t partial to company. Strangers made them skittish and wary.

Willy laughed at them as he trudged along. “Y’all will have to get used to her. This girl is hurt bad, and she’ll be with us for quite some time.”

When he got the girl back to the cabin, he laid her on a blanket on the rug in front of the woodstove. Couldn’t put her on the cot until he got all that blood off her. That would take a few buckets of well water to get the job done.

“This girl can’t have much blood left in her, doggies. She’s in serious trouble.”

Willy heated water in the kettle—too hot to have the woodstove on in July—he poured the hot water into a basin of cold and checked the temperature. When he felt it was right, he dipped a cloth in and started to clean the blood off the girl’s face.

“Got a lot of blood in your pretty hair, little girl. Have to save that for the next kettle of water.”

Willy had been cleaning her up for a couple of hours before the girl opened her eyes and looked at him.

“I’m hurt.”

“God’s truth,” said Willy. “You’re in a bad way, little girl, but I can fix you up if you let me.”

“You a doctor?”

“Yep. Mountain doctor. I’m Willy-John.”

“I’m Tammy.”

Tammy looked up into kind brown eyes and a handsome weathered face. Long hair like Travis, but dark brown. Willy-John was beautiful.

She closed her eyes and passed out.