Chapter Two

Monday, July 1 st .

Hampton Inn. Las Cruses. New Mexico.

The kids were up early. Mick, Rowdy and the boys fed the horses and exercised them in the hotel parking lot before securing them in the trailers for another long day on the road.

When they all hit the breakfast room, Rowdy showed the boys how to make waffles at the front counter and they got into it in a big way. Jacks and Davey loved making them and after they ate their fill, they made more for Lucy and Tammy and for some kids they didn’t know.

“We’ll change it up today,” said Annie. “Rowdy will take the boys in his truck, and Mick and I will take the girls. Finish up your breakfast and be ready to leave in five minutes.”

While Tammy was in the ladies’ room, Lucy whispered to Annie, “Mommy, Tammy is talking about how she can’t sleep without Eldon in the bed beside her. She’s so different she’s scaring me.”

“If she mentions him again, tell me and I’ll phone Chance and ask him what we should say to her.”

“Okay, Mommy. She’s not going to run away from us again before we get her back home, is she?”

“I hope not. That would be a disaster. I’ll keep a close eye on her. Don’t worry so, honey. Tammy isn’t your responsibility.”

“Feels like she is, Mommy. She’s my sister.”

Wild Stallion Ranch. Montana.

Me and Virge had been cleaning up the barn a little extra for the past few days when we found out everybody was coming to Montana for rodeo season.

With all of the kids bringing their rodeo horses with them, the corral would be full in between competitions.

At breakfast I spoke up and told Dad that Virge was worried about horse space. “Virge thinks the horses are gonna be cramped for space, Dad.”

Travis frowned. “Don’t think so, Virgie. The corral is huge, and they’ll have lots of room out there. What y’all do need to do, is check the feed, the supply of hay and straw in the loft, and put an order in at the feed store today.”

“Yep, I can do that,” I said. “I’ll do it as soon as we get to the station.”

“Wonder where Annie is right now,” said Virge.

“Driving north along the side of the Rio Grande,” I said. “Lucy texted me.”

“I want her to text me too,” said Virge. “Is Tammy texting you too, Harlan?”

“Nope. Nothing from Tammy. Not a word.”

“Should we be worried about Tammy, Dad?” asked Virgil.

“The hospital released her, son, so the doctors think she’s well enough to be on her own. Don’t forget she’s on parole too, so her new parole officer in Cut Bank will be watching her close. There’s no need for you to worry.”

Virge looked Travis square in the eye. “Nice little chat, Dad. Thanks for that. Tell me you’re not worried out of your tree after all the shit Tammy did.”

“I can’t say that son. It would be a lie.”

“I figured you were freaked, Dad. Can see it in your face.”

“Now that we’ve got that out in the open,” said Travis, “and we’ve admitted that we’re all worried about Tammy, let’s clean up and get to work.”

“Copy that.”

Sheriff’s Office. Coyote Creek.

While I unlocked the front door of the station for the public, Molly confirmed the notification had been done for Wayne Treadway’s family. “He has a wife and three kids back in Missoula, where he was from,” said Molly.

“Damned shame, Molly.” Travis shook his head. “Why was he poaching way up here if he lived in Missoula?”

“No idea. That might be a question for his wife.”

“You’re right, Molly,” said Billy. “We’d better have a conversation with Mrs. Treadway. I’ll drive down there and talk to her if you want, Travis.”

“Start with a phone call,” said Travis. “Save time and gas if you can.”

“Okay,” said Billy. “I’ll get a list of questions ready before I call. We definitely need to ask her why her husband was way up here, who he was with and who he happened to know up here in the north end of Montana.”

“Yeah, try the phone call first,” said Travis. “Save yourself hours of drive time if you get the answers you want. And ask her about the horse. Did he trailer his horse up here? Who was he staying with? Things like that.”

“Jotting it down,” said Billy.

“I’m hoping Doc turns up something useful during the autopsy.”

“That would be helpful,” said Billy. “Have you thought about Carpenter and his son waiting in the run? We need to bring charges against them today and get them into the system.”

“Yeah, considering the charges. I’m thinking of going with murder in the second degree against both of them. They definitely were not firing warning shots to scare away a poacher. Three shots to the heart is not a fucking warning.”

“Sure isn’t,” said Billy. “I assigned Ted to fingerprint the rifle to make sure only Jed’s prints were on it.”

“And?” asked Travis.

“Ted confirmed there was only one set of prints.”

“The father could’ve fixed the prints easy enough when he cooked up the poaching story,” said Travis. “I don’t like the vibes I’m getting from Carpenter or his son.”

“Ask Molly to check and see if the kid had any shooting awards,” I said. “Three to the heart takes a lot of skill when you’re on horseback.”

“Sure does, son. Also, you ask her to look into Trevor Carpenter’s background. High school and all the rest of it. See if the kid has been in trouble.” Travis chuckled. “See if he has a juvie record.”

I smiled at that one. “Copy that, Sheriff.”

After the bookings had been completed for father and son, Travis allowed Jed Carpenter to make his phone call.

I fetched him out of the run and let him use the landline at the spare desk in the squad room. He called a lawyer in Cut Bank and the guy promised to come to the station later in the afternoon.

“I’ll let you know when your legal counsel gets here, Mister Carpenter.” I locked him in the cell next to his boy.

Billy closed the office door and sat down at his desk to make the call to Marlene Treadway in Missoula. It rang a couple of times before she answered.

“Mrs. Treadway, this is Undersheriff Billy Johnson calling you from the Harrison County office.”

“Yes, Sheriff, the local police have been here to my house. Have you found out who shot my husband? I want to know who would kill Wayne and why. He was a good person and a good husband and father.”

“I need to ask you a few questions to help us with the investigation, ma’am. Do you feel up to giving me a few answers?”

“Okay. What do you want to know?”

“Why was Wayne way up here in the northern part of the state?”

“He has friends up there he likes to hunt with.”

“This is the middle of summer, ma’am. There is no hunting until September at the earliest.”

“I’m not aware of the dates, Sheriff. Sorry.”

“That’s okay. Do you know the names of his friends up here?”

“Umm…let me think. I’ve only met one of them, I think, and it was a couple of years ago. No. I met two. The only names I can think of offhand are Brian Groveman and Terry Marshall. Sorry, I don’t have addresses for them, but they must live near you.”

“I’m sure they do.” Billy wrote the names down. “Your husband was on horseback when he was shot, ma’am. Did he trailer his horse to Montana?”

“Wayne doesn’t have a horse, Sheriff. I don’t think he knows how to ride one.”

“Thank you very much, Mrs. Treadway. You’ve been very helpful.”

Mainliner Diner. Coyote Creek.

Dad sent us across the road to the diner to get lunch for the prisoners and he told us to eat while we were over there. We ordered our usual, burgers and fries, and were nearly done eating when a text hit my cell.

“Who’s that?” asked Virge. “Probably Penny.”

I smiled thinking it would be Penny. We’d been getting along great, and I liked her a lot. I glanced at the text, and it was from Lucy.

Lucy was another story for me. I didn’t just like Lucy, I loved her. Like I shouldn’t be loving my foster sister—like that kind of hot love.

“What are you going to do about Penny when Lucy is staying at the ranch, bro? No use pretending you aren’t thinking about it. I know you have the hots for Lucy and love her like a fuckin wild man. You’ve told me enough times.”

“I’m not sure what I’ll say to Penny when Lucy is staying with us. Somehow, I’ll have to put Penny on hold.”

Virge laughed. “This is going to be so fuckin good, Harlan. I can hardly wait to see how it plays out and what a fuckin mess you make of it.”

“It ain’t that funny, Virge. Hope it happens to you and you get fucked right up the arny or Vicki shoves your head in a fuckin dryer and turns it on high.”

“Nope. Won’t let it happen. I’ll manage my love life way better than you manage yours. Count on it. I’m writing down all the fuckin mistakes you’re making, Harlan. I consider you my learning tool. What not to fuckin do.”

Virge was laughing his head off at me when Maryanne brought the lunch containers for the prisoners.

“Here you go, boys. Have a great day.”

Santa Fe. New Mexico.

“The kids are getting grumpy, Mick. We’d better stop for lunch and gas.” Annie pointed at the Golden Arches coming into view on the right side of the highway.

Mick flicked the blinker on. “I could eat.”

They all went inside the restaurant and the lines were long at each of the cashiers on duty. During the ordering process and waiting at the side counter for pickup when their numbers were called, nobody noticed Tammy wander off.

It was only when they were all back together at their table that Annie glanced around to make sure she had everybody and there was no Tammy.

“Did anybody notice if Tammy went to the ladies’ room?”

Lucy set her McChicken down on the wrapper. “I’ll run and check, Mommy.” Lucy took off to the back of the crowded restaurant while Annie tore outside with Rowdy right behind her.

“Where would she go?” asked Rowdy. “Maybe she went back to the truck.”

“Don’t know.” Annie was checking the cars in the parking lot one by one when she spotted Tammy at the far side of the parking lot smoking with a big rig trucker.

“There she is, Rowdy.” Annie ran across the parking lot and took Tammy’s arm. “Come on, sweetheart. Your lunch is on the table inside.”

“I needed a smoke, Mama. I’ll be there in a minute.”

“You’d better come now, Tammy,” said Rowdy. “We have to eat and get going. We can’t stay here long.”

“Where y’all off to?” asked the big burly driver.

“Montana,” said Rowdy. “The kids are competing in a few rodeo events up there.”

“You look familiar,” the trucker said to Rowdy. “I should know you.”

Rowdy laughed. “Nope. Just a cowboy. Come on Tammy. Don’t make your Mama worry.”

After lunch everyone scrambled into the trucks for the next leg of the trip. Tammy hung back and she was last to get in.

“I don’t want to go back to Montana, Mama. It’s not my home anymore. Travis ain’t gonna want me back.”

“He does, and his ranch is your home until you’re twenty-one, honey. You’ve been paroled into your father’s custody, mainly because he’s a sheriff. Get into the truck and don’t put up a fuss. We have to get going. It’s a long, long way.”

For the afternoon, they switched around. The boys were with Mick and the girls were with Annie, Rowdy and bullet.

Annie put a memo in her phone to call Doctor Fielding as soon as she had a private moment.

Groveman Residence. Black Eagle Pass.

“Sheriff’s office, Mister Groveman.” Travis held up his badge. “Can we come in and talk to you for a minute about Wayne Treadway?”

“Haven’t seen Wayne in a while. He don’t live around here. Lives in Missoula.”

“True enough,” said Travis. “Wayne was shot not two miles from here yesterday and his wife told us you were one of his hunting buddies in this part of the country.”

“This ain’t hunting season, Sheriff, so why would Wayne be up here? He only drives up for the elk hunt in the fall.”

“So you’re telling me you didn’t see your buddy Wayne, yesterday or the day before?”

“That’s right. If he was up here, I didn’t know about it. I never seen him.”

“Thanks for your time, Brian. We’ll be having another chat real soon.”

“What for? I got nothing else to tell you, Sheriff.”

Travis laughed.

We hopped into the truck, and I asked, “What did you think of that guy, Dad?”

“Liar and not a good one.”

“I thought he was lying too,” said Virge. Virge was our resident expert on liars or thought he was.

Marshall Residence. Black Eagle Pass.

Terry Marshall’s wife opened the door at our next stop. Small girl in her thirties with a couple of toddlers underfoot.

“Afternoon, Mrs. Marshall.” Travis touched his hat. “Terry here?”

“Terry’s at work, Sheriff. He works at the Cut Bank Mill.”

“Okay, thanks. We’ll take a drive up there and talk to him. You ever met Terry’s buddy, Wayne Treadway, ma’am?”

“Uh huh. I’ve met Wayne a few times.”

“Seen him lately?”

“He was here day before yesterday. Him and Terry had a beer or two.”

“Anybody else with the two of them?”

“Let me think who was here. They were tossing back a few in the garage and I didn’t take a head count or anything, but I think Brian Groveman was here along with Chuck Thatcher.”

“You got an address for Chuck?”

“Not an actual address, but he lives about two miles east of here in a double-wide on five acres. Got a big cinderblock welding shop out back. You can’t miss it.”

“Thanks, ma’am. You’ve been very helpful.”

“Terry isn’t in any trouble, is he?” She picked up the smallest baby and held him.

“Don’t think so. Just need to talk to him about a couple of things. I’ll run up to the mill and we’ll sort it all out.”

“Okay. I don’t want him in trouble.”

We left and went back to the truck.

“Nice lead, Dad. We going to talk to Chuck while we’re close to his place?” I asked.

“Might as well cover him before we drive up to Cut Bank.”

“Might as well.” Virge grinned. “This is getting good.”

Thatcher Residence. Black Eagle Pass.

Two miles along the road we came to the welding shop siting behind the big double-wide trailer.

“Thatcher Welding,” said Travis. “Let’s go see if Chuck’s going to lie about knowing Wayne Treadway.”

“Huh,” I said, “this has a weird feel to it.”

“Yeah, it does.”

No answer at the front door of the trailer, so we tried the welding shop out back. The welder was running, and Chuck was working with all of his protective gear on and didn’t hear us come in.

Startled him a bit when he glanced up through the mask and saw us standing there. He jerked the helmet off, shut off the welder and grinned. “Didn’t hear you come in, Sheriff. What can I do for you?”

“We’re investigating Wayne Treadway’s shooting death, Chuck. Maybe you can help us with that.”

“Yeah, sure. I want to help. Absolute tragedy. That rancher had no fuckin right to kill Wayne. Didn’t matter if he was trespassing or not. Trespassing ain’t a fuckin death sentence.”

“Apparently it was to Jed Carpenter,” said Travis.

“Yeah, we heard stories about him and his posted land and steered clear, but Wayne not being from around here, he made a mistake.”

“Yeah, big mistake,” said Travis.

“Tragic one,” said Chuck with a sad look on his face.

“When he was killed, Wayne was seeding an area along the bank of the creek on Carpenter’s property,” said Travis. “You know anything about Wayne poaching?”

Chuck shook his head and laughed. “Wayne would never do that. He’s not a poacher.”

“You sure, Chuck? If he wasn’t poaching, why was he up here in the middle of summer with a sack of grain?”

“You got me there.”

“Really? I heard you guys were drinking together the other night. Y’all must have known a little bit about Wayne’s plans. Come on, Chuck. Wayne drove all the way up here from Missoula, for chrissakes.”

Chuck shrugged. “Nope. He never mentioned hunting out of season to us. Probably because he knew we’d never go for it. We know the rules. Elk season don’t open until September. We never go until at least October when there might be a skiff of snow for tracking. Like that.”

“That’s right,” said Travis. “No hunting until September and be best if you boys don’t forget it.”

“Wayne was on horseback on the Carpenter property,” I said. “Wayne trailer his horse up here from Missoula, Chuck?”

Chuck laughed. “What are you talking about, Deputy? Wayne’s a city boy. He don’t know how to ride a horse.”

“Thanks for your time, Chuck,” said Travis. “We’ll let you get back to work.”

We walked back to the truck, and I tried to sort it out. “The horse was a plant, Dad. Belongs to Carpenter.”

“The sack of seed probably does too,” said Virge. “Carpenter murdered Wayne and he’s covering it up making Wayne look like a poacher.”

“I’m agreeing with you boys on the coverup, but why was Wayne there and how did he get there?”

“I haven’t figured that out yet,” I said.

“I’m sorting it all out in my head,” said Virge, “and I’m thinking there’s a missing pickup someplace.”

Travis pulled out his cell. “Let me see what Wayne drove, Virgie.” Dad scrolled through the DMV database until he found it. “Five-year-old blue Silverado.”

“Where the fuck is it?” asked Virge. “We need to search the Carpenter property.”

“Need a warrant for that or we need to bring Carpenter in and do it while he’s in the run.”

“Copy. Was Chuck lying about any of it, Virge?” I asked my brother as we drove down the county road on the way to Cut Bank.

“Not so much,” said Virge. “If Wayne was doing something shady, Chuck didn’t know about it.”

“Or he was a good liar,” I said.

“Yep. Either one,” said Travis.

“At least he didn’t pretend he never saw Wayne up here like Groveman did.”

“Yeah, that was a bare-faced fuckin whopper,” said Virge.

Cut Bank Mill.

It took us a few minutes to find Terry Marshall at the mill. Turned out he worked the order desk and we had to wait to talk to him until he took a couple of phone orders.

“Sheriff, I was expecting you. My wife called and said she sent you up here to talk to me about Wayne.”

“That’s right.”

“Damned shame is what it is. Wayne Treadway was a great guy and one of my best friends.”

“Sorry for your loss, Terry,” said Travis. “Want to tell me what Wayne was doing up here in the middle of summer? One of your buddies told us Wayne only drove up from Missoula for hunting season. September, October. Like that.”

“Guess he was on vacay and felt like driving up to see his friends, Sheriff. That ain’t against the law.”

“Nope. It ain’t.”

“Why would Brian Groveman lie and tell me he hadn’t seen Wayne when y’all were drinking together in your garage?”

That question caused Terry to look puzzled for a minute. “No idea why Brian would say that, Sheriff. Far as I know, Brian had no reason to lie. Wayne was here. We all saw him.”

“But Brian did lie and that lie is bothering me a lot. Makes me think the whole works of y’all got something else going on that I’m not seeing.”

Terry frowned. “Like what? We got nothing going on. You got it wrong, Sheriff.”

“Maybe I have,” said Travis. “I’ll let you get back to work, Terry. Thanks for your time.”

“No problem, Sheriff. I’m always happy to help the law.”

We piled into the truck, and I asked Virge what he thought. “Terry telling the truth?”

“Seemed to be, but he was nervous as hell on a Sunday. See his hand shaking when he was playing with his pen?”

“I saw it,” I said. “I think Terry noticed his own hand shaking and that’s when he laid the pen down.”

“Didn’t notice it,” said Travis. “That’s what we’ve got Virgie for. Our own professional lie detector.”

I gave my brother a fist bump.

Wild Stallion Ranch. Montana.

When we got home, me and Virge did more work on the barn at chore time. We finished up and the barn was in perfect condition. Clean and ready for extra horses.

“This is like getting guest rooms ready.” Virge pushed all of the stall doors wide open, stood back and laughed. “We got guest horses coming our way.”

I laughed with my brother.

“Feed order will be delivered tomorrow. We’ll put it away and sweep the floor one more time. Don’t think this barn could look any better.”

Virge glanced around. “Damned near perfect.”