by Ted Clifton
Prologue
1: Fly Away
2: Warmer Climates
3: Arrival
4: Encampment
5: Murder by Skillet
6: Lewis Grimes, Navy Pilot; Lover and Businessman
7: T or C
8: Murder, Murder Everywhere
9: Mayor and President
10: Home Sweet Home
11: Field Maneuvers
12: The Sheriff’s Return
13: The Four Corners Fiasco
14: Home Sweet Home or Hell
15: Power Interruptions
16: It’s Going To Be a Bumpy Ride
17: Sometimes Things Don’t Go As Planned
18: Home Not So Sweet Home
19: They’re Back
20: So Much For That Plan
21: All Hell Breaks Loose
22: Chickens Come Home to Roost
23: Albuquerque Love Fest
24: Follow the Bouncing Ball
25: Nothing’s Black and White
26: Bad Pennies
27: How Did That Happen
28: It’s All In The Past
29: Strangers in a Strange Land
30: Better Alive than Dead
31: Well, Well, How ’Bout That
32: Hello and Farewell
Epilogue
Keep in Touch
About the Author
Books by Ted Clifton
(For copyright information, ISBN, and other editions, please see Publication Details.)
Tyee began talking as soon as Ray entered the computer room. “The research on this San Juan County stuff is pretty amazing. If what I’m finding is correct, the sheriff has managed to accumulate enough military hardware to start a sizable war.”
Ray was frowning. “Well, crap. Pretty sure that’s not going to make the governor happy.”
“Looks like it’s worse than just the governor being unhappy. I could track these military vehicles because they are required to have special permits due to their weight. And it appears they’ve left the state and entered Colorado. I have no idea where this equipment went once it crossed the state line. But I’ve checked, and it definitely didn’t leave Colorado.”
Ray shook his head. Not only had the wacko San Juan County Sheriff accumulated old military hardware for his white supremacist take-over of something, he’d taken what amounted to State of New Mexico property and moved it into Colorado. How did these people get elected? “How much equipment do you think we’re talking about?”
“Over the last eighteen months, I can track twelve armored vehicles; some described as having mounted weapons, one tank, and two armored troop carriers. Of course, what I can’t tell you is what’s inside them.”
“Did you say, ‘tank’?”
“Yep, just what a sheriff’s department needs in case they’re invaded by the Chamber of Commerce, or maybe the Lions Club.”
“The governor’s going to shit. Why would they be moving those vehicles into Colorado?”
“It’s pure speculation, but my first guess is that they have some kind of joint operation with like-minded morons in Colorado, and they’re combining forces for some sort of action.”
“Action? What the hell kind of action?” Ray knew perfectly well that Tyee didn’t have an answer. He was just yelling to blow off a little steam. They both knew he needed to call the governor and give him an update on the San Juan County military movements—Ray could hear the governor yelling already.
“What the fuck are you telling me, Ray? The San Juan asshole sheriff is gathering an army in Colorado with New Mexico fucking equipment? Is the guy a complete moron? Is every sheriff in this state a goddamned idiot?”
Ray hadn’t said much. The governor was asking some of the same rhetorical questions Ray had hurled at Tyee.
“Ray, you know I could send in the National Guard, but I can’t let them cross into Colorado. That bastard of a governor in Colorado hates my ass and would gladly keep all of the stupid fuckin’ equipment if he found out. Do you think this guy is going to take some kind of action with these weapons?”
“No. I don’t. That would be too strange. I know these people, or at least people like them. We had people just like this back in Las Cruces. They just want to dress up in their uniforms and play war. I’d think the only people actually at risk are the militia members—there’s always some chance they could be shot by one of their fellow loonies.”
“Yeah, that sounds about right to me. But hell, I can’t let him take New Mexico assets into Colorado and not do something about it. Ray, I know this is beyond the scope of what we talked about on this, but could you and some of your people just go up to Farmington and snoop around? Find out what the hell’s going on?”
“Sure, Governor.” This was Ray’s business after all, and the governor didn’t like people who told him no, so he would go, but he sure wasn’t happy about it. “It’s a long drive to Farmington. Any chance the state patrol or somebody would have a plane we could use?”
“Shit, Ray, I’ve got a plane. And I hate to fly. Consider it yours, along with two pilots. You now have an official air force to attack the Farmington Sheriff.” Ray sure hoped the governor was just being his usual oddball self—he didn’t want to go to war, with or without an air force.
1989. George Herbert Walker Bush becomes 41st president of the United States of America. The first World Wide Web server and browser are developed. Tens of thousands of Chinese students protest in Beijing’s Tiananmen Square, facing off against tanks. Thousands are killed. The Berlin Wall comes down, marking the end of Communist control of East Germany and the USSR. Average cost of a new home is $120,000, average income $27,450, and average price of a new car $15,300. Best Picture is Rain Man, and the song of the year is “Don’t Worry Be Happy.”
Farmington, New Mexico
“Tyee, I can’t force you to get on the plane. But it’s a long drive to Farmington, and if you don’t want to fly, you’ll have to drive—alone.” Ray tried to persuade Tyee, who was pouting like a two-year-old—a very big two-year-old—about ready to have a tantrum. He kicked at the ground and gave Ray a dirty look. “Okay, I understand. You’re not comfortable in a small plane. But this,” Ray pointed at the aircraft behind them, “is really a big plane. It’s got two engines and two professional pilots. They know what they’re doing.”
“Bullshit, Ray. This is the crazy governor’s plane and two guys who may or may not know what they’re doing. You can fire me if you like, but I’m driving.” Tyee’s stubborn expression dared Ray to demand he get on the plane.
Sue walked up to see Ray and Tyee glaring at one another. “What are you two arguing about?”
“Tyee’s afraid to fly.”
Tyee’s face got a little darker. He crossed his arms and gave Ray a decidedly cold stare.
“Well, if Tyee isn’t flying, neither am I.”
“What! Have you both lost your minds?” Ray stomped away toward nothing in particular, mumbling. Nothing was going as planned. Sue was supposed to come along for the ride to offer moral support and take a break from her routine. Big Jack was babysitting Happy with help from his new girlfriend, Beverly. Happy liked staying at Big Jack’s bait shop for reasons only a dog could understand. Now, what was supposed to be an easy plane ride of an hour or so was turning into a civil war. Ray continued to stomp around in the dirt, watching as Sue and Tyee engaged in some kind of conversation.
“We go.” Tyee made the statement in his infamous minimalist Indian-speak. He climbed aboard the plane.
“What did you say to him?”
“None of your business, Ray. Let’s get on the plane before he changes his mind.”
They boarded to see Tyee slumped in his seat, frowning out the window.
Soon they were in the air. Everyone relaxed a little. Tyee was still not speaking, but he did smile at Sue. Ray just sighed.
Ray Pacheco had retired from being sheriff of Dona Ana County, New Mexico, not that long ago. He had then moved to a remote cabin on Elephant Butte Lake near Truth or Consequences, New Mexico, or “T or C,” as the locals called it. He soon found himself bored with retirement and took up fishing, which was how he met his two partners and friends, Big Jack and Tyee Chino.
Big Jack owned Jack’s Bait, Boats, and Beer. Ray first went to the otherworldly bait shop to seek advice about how to take up fishing. Big Jack considered fleecing Ray by selling him fishing gear he might not need. But, succumbing to his better nature, he instead suggested that Ray seek out Tyee Chino, the best fishing guide on the lake.
Those first encounters laid the groundwork for friendship and eventually a partnership in the private investigation business—Pacheco and Chino. Big Jack preferred to remain low profile, and was a silent partner.
After what seemed like a short trip, the pilot announced that they were about ten minutes from Farmington and everyone should buckle up.
The approach into Farmington’s airport has put the fear of flying into many a seasoned traveler. The airstrip sits on top of a small mesa in the middle of the town. While the location is convenient once you land, the visual coming in for a landing is more than a little disturbing, with the approach making it seem as if the plane is headed directly into the side of the mesa. Common sense tells you that the pilot is not going to crash directly into the side of a cliff; however, your eyes will tell you that your common sense is lying. Especially on a windy day, with the plane tossing about from side to side and up and down. And most days were windy in Farmington. Tyee glanced from the window to Ray with a look that suggested his friend had condemned him to death. But then, just when disaster seemed imminent, the plane easily cleared the mesa wall and settled onto the runway. Sue applauded, Tyee actually smiled, and Ray let his breath out.
Ray’d been to many places where the locals described the landscape as rugged. But this had to be the very definition of rugged. The natural terrain was jagged, with no level ground. Its rocky faces showed a variety of colors of stone, but little vegetation. There were hills everywhere. Everything seemed exposed. It was an odd place to put a town. After they’d deplaned, the wind immediately caught their attention, cold and gusty, making Farmington seem doubly inhospitable.
“The governor says we’re at your disposal for the next several days, Mr. Pacheco,” the pilot said. “We’re less than an hour away from our base in Santa Fe. So, if you agree, we’ll head back there. When you need us again, just give us a call and we’ll leave immediately.” With that, he gave Ray a card with names and numbers.
“Sounds great, captain. Not sure about our schedule at this point, but I’d guess we’ll want to head back to T or C in a day or two. I’ll give you a call as soon as we know.” They shook hands and Ray moved quickly toward the small terminal.
“Sheriff Pacheco, hello. I’m Chief Deputy Thad Trujillo—welcome to Farmington.”
“Thanks, appreciate you meeting us.”
“No problem. The governor and the AG made it clear we’re to assist you in any way we can. Even without the big brass giving me orders, I’m very pleased to meet the famous sheriff from southern New Mexico.”
“Well now Deputy Trujillo, I think you might be messing with me.” Ray smiled at the Chief Deputy and Trujillo grinned in a mischievous way.
“Your associates went to the restrooms. The luggage has been placed in a patrol car outside. That car is yours to use as you see fit. Sorry we didn’t have an unmarked car available, but I imagine you’re used to riding in a patrol car.”
“Yeah, I’ve done that some. Any word from Sheriff Jackson?”
“Nothing direct. One of his ex-followers came into the office yesterday to tell us he thought the sheriff had gone off the deep end.” Trujillo looked down and shook his head. “The guy belonged to Americans for Liberty—the group the sheriff’s been active with—and he said the sheriff told them they’d begin seceding from the country as of October 1st. The guy said he enjoyed all the rah-rah stuff and the military crap, but he didn’t want to leave his country. Seems like the sheriff may have taken his truck. He wanted to report it stolen.”
“What do you know about the Americans for Liberty?”
“It’s a long-term, anti-government militia group. Been around for maybe ten or fifteen years. Never thought they’d cause any real harm—just a bunch of beer bellies pretending to be tougher and meaner than they really are. The sheriff got involved about five years ago, though, and he seems to take it pretty seriously. Lot of the softer guys dropped out after he started making them exercise and do real training.” He chuckled.
“Does Sheriff Jackson have a family?”
“He’s married, although they’ve been separated for a couple of years. Wife’s name is Barbara—she lives in an apartment downtown. Don’t believe they ever got a divorce, but lots of bitterness between them. His wife’s active in local politics and the sheriff wanted her to stop, but she said no and moved out.”
“I’d like to talk to her. Could you get me an address and phone number?”
“Sure.”
“Sheriff have any friends who might know what’s going on?”
“Our sheriff was a loner. The only person I know that he was close to was his mother, who died some years ago. Mostly what he cared about was work and stuff to do with the militia.”
“Did you think he was a good sheriff?”
“That’s kind of a loaded question. He was—or is—my boss. He’s a difficult man to get to know, not very friendly. But in terms of running the department, I’d say he did a good job. A lot of people didn’t like him much. I think that was mostly because he just wasn’t friendly. Some people thought he was a real asshole—generally lawbreakers or people who wanted a special favor and didn’t get it. He didn’t play politics and more or less treated everyone about the same, even if a little cold. Occasionally, he’d drink a bit too much, which could create problems. But that mostly had to do with his estranged wife.”
“Deputy, do you know where he is right now?”
“Not for sure, sheriff. My guess is that he’s in Colorado at the militia’s base camp. I think it’s close to Ignacio, but definitely in backwoods territory. The guy who came in to file the stolen vehicle charge said the headquarters was in a very remote part of La Plata County. That’s a sparsely populated area with limited access. The guy also said they’ve more weapons and ammunition up there than you can imagine. He said it would be a bloodbath if anyone tried to get them out of that camp.”
“How about the military surplus equipment? I understand that he took some of that gear with him into Colorado?”
“Yeah, I’ve definitely gotten an earful from the governor about that. Most of the equipment is missing from the armory, where it was stored. I guess the sheriff and his people took it. Most of that old junk was useless. It’s old army crap that I think they just wanted to unload on law enforcement. But it was all in bad shape and would cost a fortune to maintain—even assuming you had a use for an armored troop carrier. The sheriff loved that military crap, though. Almost every weekend he would have his militia people out there, washing and oiling. But we never used any of it in the sheriff’s department. It just took up space. I told the governor it was a waste of money and he should just let Colorado have it—turns out that wasn’t the thing to say. The governor went nuts, telling me the goddamn governor of Colorado was not getting any of our shit. Then he hung up.”
“Our govern
or and the governor of Colorado seemed to have their own little war going on.”
“Well, what’s our plan, Ray?” Tyee had forgiven Ray for the plane ride, given that he’d survived.
“We’ll get checked into the hotel and then go back to the sheriff’s office and get the contact information for the sheriff’s ex-wife. Might go talk to her and see if she knows anything about the sheriff’s plans. Want to talk to Deputy Trujillo some more, but my first impression is that he has everything under control. If that’s the case then I think the issue of the sheriff stealing equipment and then holing up in some remote part of Colorado with a small army is a problem for some federal agency, not anything to do with us. Once we’re comfortable that Deputy Trujillo has everything handled in Farmington, we can report to the governor and go home.”
No one objected to that.
Many Years Ago
“Ladies and gentlemen, it’s with pleasure that I introduce my great friend and one of the best representatives this country has ever had, Congressman Jeremiah Johnson.” There was thunderous applause at the event held to honor the congressman. No one expected otherwise, after all it was his retirement dinner; and many were glad to see him go.
Johnson took the lectern. “Thank you, Senator Graham. Good to see you back in Colorado for a change. Tommy and I have known each other for many years and have generally had good things to say about each other, although I do have some stories I’ve been saving in case we ever became opponents. But I guess I’ll just keep saving those little gems.”
Graham smiled, but directed a noticeably suspicious eye toward his not-so-great friend.
“When I announced my intention not to run for reelection,” Johnson went on, “I know some of you were surprised, maybe even a little upset. But I also know many of you were happier than pigs in shit. Well, I’m going to make that crowd even happier. My wife, Jane, and I are moving to Las Cruces, New Mexico. I’ve enjoyed my time representing the great state of Colorado, but my old bones request that I move to a warmer climate. By the way, ‘old bones’ was not a reference to my long-suffering wife.”