Murders on the Ridge

by ANDREA SMITH

  Dalton had maintained his usual demeanor at the ranch, and in fact, the following day when he had returned to work, Duel asked him if he’d mind digging a grave for one of the miniatures they’d lost.

  “Sure,” Dalton had replied, “What happened, man, they all seemed okay when I was with them yesterday morning?”

  “Mollie-Belle was old,” Duel had said, his demeanor solemn as if the loss of this animal tugged at his heartstrings. “She must’ve got loose from the rest and wandered out back. Grant found her in the field behind the barn. Old animals do that, you know? It’s their time and they sense it. They kinda put themselves out to pasture to die.”

  “I’m sorry, Duel. I know how much the miniatures mean to you and the family,” he lied. “I’ll get to it right away. Where do you want her grave?”

  Dalton didn’t doubt that Duel or Grant had made sure to pull the broken plastic cylinder, containing the rest of the heroin pellets out of the horse's ass as they paid their last respects to poor old Mollie-Belle.

  Since that time, Dalton had kept his senses on high alert, keeping track of the comings and goings of the various family members. The boys hadn’t been around much at all, which was unusual, but only confirmed what Dalton suspected: They were busy harvesting and processing the poppies they’d stolen from the basement of Vince Hatfield’s marijuana grow operation. In his mind, he was trying to figure out how in the hell Duel had gotten wind of it at all.

  Was it possible that Billy Ray Jensen had known more about the Hatfields operation than Dalton had given him credit for? Had Billy Ray been the person instrumental in having those search warrants issued the very morning the massacred bodies were discovered?

  There hadn’t been a Cessna delivery for two months prior to the murders . . . so where was Duel now getting the raw materials for the heroin pellets?

  Dalton knew in his gut where he was getting it, and that the boys were busy processing it over at their place near Pebbles.

  Dalton was finishing up his chores when Duel came out to the barn smiling, which was indeed rare.

  “You gonna give me congratulations on my new grandson, Dalton?” he said, holding out his hand for Dalton to shake it. Duel laughed heartily at the obvious cluelessness of his ranch hand. “We got the DNA results back. Barton Hatfield is officially Barton McCoy! It came back 99.89%. Doesn’t get much closer than that, right?”

  Dalton gave Duel’s hand a hearty shake. “Well yes sir,” he replied, “Congratulations to you and Brant. I’m glad you’re so happy about it.”

  “Happy?” Duel asked excitedly, “Happy isn’t the word! I’m totally unabashedly thrilled with the good news. You don’t know how the not-knowing has just eaten us all up these past couple of months. Now we can finalize our plans.”

  “Plans?” Dalton asked. “You mean a big celebration or something?”

  “Naw, nothing like that. Now that paternity has been established, the Guardian ad Litem is out of the picture. Sally Jo and I promised Brant we’d help him take the kids, the horses and start their own ranch somewhere away from here. Maybe Tennessee, Alabama or Arkansas - hell, maybe even Alaska, dammit!” He clapped his hands together in happiness. “It’s just a huge weight off of all of us. We’re sick and tired of all the publicity that’s been given to this county and our little town. We need a break, we fucking deserve to walk into town without people gawking at little Maddie, or giving Brant the hairy eyeball as if he somehow is to blame. It’s just too fucked up around here.”

  “So, will you be back, Duel? Or should I be looking for another job?”

  “Naw, no worries there, Dalton. Sally Jo and I will be back just as soon as we get Brant and the youngins settled. Sally Jo’s already been on line checking out land for sale in Tennessee, Alabama and Arkansas. We don’t want them too far away. So don’t worry about looking for work. I’ll still have some of the horses, and hell, I’ve still got the pigs, peacocks and thinking about getting some exotic birds as well. Besides that, it seems that it’s gonna take a while to get the estate settled what with Maddie and Barton being the Hatfield next-of-kin and all.”

  “Oh yeah?” Dalton asked as if he hadn’t already known that through his visit to the county court office, “Didn’t know that. Well, I guess that’s double congratulations to you then. Seems like you’ve inherited a bunch of land to farm or ranch.”

  “Right?” Duel said still grinning like the greedy fool he was, “So you’ve definitely got job security. Probably will need you full time before long, so you stay put, hear?”

  “Sure thing,” Dalton replied returning the smile. “Looking forward to it Duel.”

  Chapter 32

  The Beginning of the End.

  It was a week and a half after Duel’s announcement that Dalton found himself sprawled out on the sofa in the living room of Courtney’s trailer, catching all kinds of hell for holding out on her the way he had.

  “I thought we were in this together, you rotten mother-fucker,” she said, her voice raised in anger. “So much for trust, huh?”

  “Courtney, c’mon sweetheart, I told you now didn’t I? Don’t you think I’d have told you before now if I could’ve?” Dalton asked, his voice contrite.

  “Oh bullshit,” she said, taking a swipe at the side of his head. “Don’t you think you can charm your way out of this, you aren’t even with the agency anymore, so you had no code of conduct to follow. Give me a freakin’ break!”

  She went over to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of beer. “You want one?” she asked grudgingly.

  “Only if it means I’m forgiven,” Dalton replied sheepishly.

  “Oh save it, whore dog,” she said with a laugh, “you’re forgiven, so give me the deets again. This is so damn exciting.”

  She uncapped the beer and handed it to him as she took a swig of hers and settled in the recliner across the room from him.

  “Okay, so it’s all going down tomorrow. Duel and Brant are headed down with the horses to their veterinarian connection in Lexington. Somebody has attached a GPS monitor under the trailer and the truck.”

  “Hmm,” Courtney said snickering, “Wonder who the hell would’ve done that? Continue please.”

  “So the Kentucky State Police in cooperation with the D.E.A. will be in unmarked vehicles along the way, tracking their movements to the destination in question, keeping in contact with one another. Once they are in place, and the animals have been offloaded into the veterinary clinic, they will officially be served with search and seizure warrants and taken into custody.”

  Courtney squealed, pounding her feet against the seat of the chair. “That is so awesome, and then what?”

  Dalton took a swig of beer and then gave her a grin, “Well, back at the ranch, or should I say ranches,” he said with a chuckle, “there will be D.E.A. and B.C.I. agents simultaneously serving warrants to Sally Jo McCoy, Virginia McCoy, and Grant McCoy at their respective residences, along with some drug sniffing and cadaver dogs for good measure.”

  “Do you really think Billy Ray Jensen is dead?” she asked sadly.

  “Yeah, I do. The way I figure it, is that he was too close to blowing the whistle on the Hatfields, which presented a major problem for the McCoys. My guess is that when Vince refused to lease or sell that land to Duel, he figured out that Vince had a gig of his own going that was way more lucrative than hydroponic pot. He made it his mission to find out just what that was.

  “After the murders, Billy Ray knew that Duel or his sons or maybe all of them were a part of it. He realized he’d trusted the wrong damn person in Briar County. He was ridden with guilt. He might’ve even reported his suspicions to somebody at the Sheriff’s office. But poor old Billy Ray just didn’t know how many cops Duel had in his pocket.”

  “So,” Courtney said, “Is that why Duel made it look as if he’d bought Billy Ray out?”

  “Yep. My guess was
Billy Ray was already dead so he got rid of his truck, his body, and had that quitclaim deed forged and notarized by Sally Jo. What a stupid fuck.”

  “But what if they don’t find a body? They can’t prove murder without a body?”

  Dalton nodded. “It would purely be circumstantial, but it can be done. We’ll just have to wait and see.”

  “And what are your plans for tomorrow Dalton? I mean while all this shit is going down?” she asked.

  “Me? Well, it’s my day off. I guess I’ll be hanging out with you at The Peak.”

  “Uh huh,” she mumbled giving him an eye roll, “and to make sure I don’t have loose lips, right Dalton?”

  “C’mon Courtney, let me off the hook here, babe.”

  “Well, as long as you keep me posted after it all goes down.”

  “No problem. But I think this will be well-publicized when the dust settles.”

  Chapter 33

  After the dust settles . . .

  Once again the town of Briarton, Ohio was crawling with local, state and federal law enforcement agents. All patting themselves on the back for local television crews, the Attorney General giving live press conferences articulating as to how the various agencies worked tirelessly and intelligently to snag a major transport ring of heroin, meth and cocaine tied to the Espinosa cartel.

  The national headlines were reporting that six members of the McCoy family were arrested on various charges including twenty-two counts of murder in connection with the 2016 Hatfield family massacre, two counts of capital murder for the abduction and murder of local resident Billy Ray Jensen, whose charred bone fragments were found in a burn barrel on the property owned by Brant and Grant McCoy. Additional charges of obstructing justice, abuse of a corpse, drug trafficking, drug possession, possession of drug paraphernalia, forgery to commit fraud, child endangering, tampering with evidence and animal abuse were issued against various family members including Sally Jo McCoy, Duel McCoy, Virginia McCoy, Grant McCoy and Brant McCoy. Two minor children were taken into custody of Children’s Protective Services pending the arraignment of all family members.

  Dalton Edwards sat at the bar at The Peak, watching the news reporting on various cable networks.

  Courtney placed a frosted mug of beer in front of him. “It’s on me, Dalton,” she said, “for a job well done, although to hear all those talking heads, sounds to me like they’re taking credit for doing squat. Makes me wanna puke.”

  “I’m not sweating, Courtney,” he replied, “Knowing the internal politics within government agencies, I wouldn’t have expected anything less. It’s political posturing for the upcoming elections.”

  “Still,” she said, furiously wiping down the bar top, “If it wasn’t for you, they’d all still be sitting on their thumbs, pointing their fingers at one another. You get no recognition for any of it, forgive me if it pisses me off.”

  “It’s just as well, Courtney,” Dalton said, grabbing a pretzel from the bowl she’d set in front of him and munching on it, “The judicial system is just as fucked up as the rest. It will take months, if not years for them to untangle all of the players, the motives, the evidence, all the while hoping that the McCoys will start ratting one another out in an attempt to muddy the already shit-filled swamp.”

  “No doubt about that,” she agreed, nodding her head. “So, what’s your theory, Dalton. I’d love to hear it.”

  Dalton popped another pretzel into his mouth, and chewed thoughtfully. “Well, I think several things might've been at play here. I think Duel got wind of Vince Hatfield’s secret poppy operation, which more than likely happened as a result of Billy Ray Jensen’s involvement. You see, the way I figure it was that Billy Ray went to Duel and entrusted him with the knowledge he had of the drug trafficking activities, along with the identification of those two black Suburbans. Billy Ray was thinking it was the Hatfields, which proved to be his fatal mistake in the end.”

  “The thing is,” Courtney cut in, “why in the world did Billy Ray go to Duel and not the cops?”

  “That’s easy,” Dalton responded, “Billy Ray had a general mistrust of all law enforcement based on a career’s worth of seeing officers on the take. In Briar County, there seemed to be an over abundance of it, and I’m positive that Billy Ray was the one who finally convinced the Sheriff’s Department to get warrants issued for search and seizure of the Hatfield property.

  “If Vince had a cop in his pocket, Duel probably had three of them. So obviously, that information got to Duel McCoy in advance. It gave him and the boys time to plan the execution of the family. The way Duel figured it was that Vince was squeezing him out of the opioid business, which likely had ties to the cartel. But Duel was smart enough to know Vince wasn’t doing it because he planned to double his hydroponic weed operation. That wouldn’t have netted him the monthly lease fee he was getting from Duel for the landing strip. Duel had to conclude that Vince was squeezing him out of the business to go solo on higher revenue narcotics: cocaine, heroin, synthetic opioids -whatever. That was the breaking point.”

  “But how could Duel have known about the poppies? You said you only found them by sheer accident.”

  Dalton took another swig of beer. “Remember I told you about those half-moon shaped bruises all over Vince’s head and torso?”

  Courtney nodded.

  “Well, I do know that when they searched Duel’s property, they confiscated a pair of leather cowboy boots that had metal heel plates in a half-moon shape from one of his barns. It tested positive for Vince Hatfield’s DNA.”

  “No shit?” Courtney replied.

  “My thinking is that he initially beat the information out of Vince, kept him hog tied until the others verified the poppies, and then proceeded to execute the whole family, giving them plenty of time to load up those poppies and take them over to Brant and Grant’s place. It solved their immediate problem with keeping their part of the supply chain going. More than likely they traded the bricks for some finished product in order to continue the transport to Lexington and beyond. It was an interim solution until Duel could get his hands on the land and start landing Cessnas again. He wasn’t about to alienate the cartel and disrupt the flow of product to their ultimate destinations in this part of the country.”

  “So,” Courtney said, “by executing them and making it look like the Mexican cartel had actually made the hit, it gave the McCoys an opportunity to inherit the Hatfield land holdings since the next of kin were Tammy’s two babies?”

  “Exactly,” Dalton replied, “and thus putting the landing strip back in business.”

  “And Billy Ray?”

  “I think Billy Ray saw the light after the massacre of the Hatfield family. I figure he either threatened to blow the whistle on Duel, or refused to sell his property to him. Either way, Billy Ray had become a liability Duel just wanted out of the picture.”

  “Man,” Courtney replied, letting out a hard sigh, “Who would have ever thought the McCoys would be involved in something this huge?”

  “Oh, I think my first clue was when I saw how much Virginia McCoy was worth. Over $5 million in this neck of the woods? Plus her land contract schemes showed her true nature more than any of those so-called benevolent non-profits she used as a tax shield. Hell, before it’s all over, the IRS will probably have their hands in this as well.”

  “It sure sounds as if the McCoys won’t see the light of freedom for a long, long time, Dalton. And it’s all thanks to you whether those government dick heads want to admit it or not.”

  Dalton gave her a warm smile. “I appreciate your sentiments, Courtney, and I’ve really enjoyed working with you behind the scenes, but remember, everyone - including the McCoys - are innocent until proven guilty. That’s the law of this great land. And it’s what sets this country apart from a Banana Republic.”

  “You’re right about that, Dalton. And I hope it nev
er changes.” She wrapped her arms around Dalton and gave him a hug. “Gonna miss you around here, not gonna lie. Especially your singing. You really ought to consider that as a career.”

  Dalton gave her ponytail a tug, and lifted her chin with his fingers. “I’ll miss you too, Courtney, maybe someday you’ll find your way outta here,” he said gently, brushing a kiss across her forehead. “You’re so much better than Briar County, Ohio, woman.”

  Epilogue

  Two Days Later . . .

  Dalton was busy packing the clean clothes he’d just picked up from the laundromat. Miss Millie, who ran the establishment, had been amenable to Dalton’s drop off and pick-up request, only charging him an extra ten bucks for the personalized service. Dalton had always given her twenty bucks nevertheless.

  “Heard you’re leaving these parts, Dalton,” she’d said. “Guess with the Hatfields gone and the McCoys all in jail awaitin’ their trials, not much work for you to do. Shame to see you go. We all really enjoyed having you around the community.”

  “Aww . . . thanks Miss Millie, I’ve enjoyed being part of this community in spite of all that’s happened around here. Quite a shocker.”

  Millie had put her hand up to her cheek, shaking her head back and forth. “Just unbelievable,” she said, “Never in a million years would I expect something so horrible to happen to two of the nicest families in the county. I keep thinking there’s got to be more to the story. I keep hoping it’s all just a huge mistake.”

  “Time will tell, Millie. You take care now and thanks for doing such a great job with my laundry over the past year just about.”

  “Has it been that long, Dalton?”

  “Yep, would’ve been a year this coming January.”

  “Time sure has flown I reckon. But if you’re ever out this way again, you be sure to stop in and say hello, won’t you?”