“Well, it’s like this,” replied James. “There’s one liquor store in town, and when you go there, everyone knows your business. The city of Raton is not too far but still the same.
“So, do you head all the way up to Trinidad, or even Pueblo, to stock up or just come over here to our place? We’ve got better quality, prices, free taste tests like those fancy new micro-breweries, and complete anonymity.”
“I see your point,” said Jason.
“It’s just simple economics,” said James.
“Did you sell any at the swap meet yesterday?” asked Jason.
“Not a chance. I’m not sure how the Sheriff would like it, since things are getting pretty serious in town.”
“Can I try a taste?” asked Jason, hoping he didn’t overstep his bounds.
“Tell you what. If we can get you through the green door and up to the roof in one piece, I’ll bring some up for us both.”
“RT is rooftop?” asked Jason.
“That’s it, and it’s the best view in the valley. That’s the God’s honest truth. The only problem is it’s three sets of stairs, plus the two we just came down.”
“I’m game if you are,” said Jason, with a grin.
Twenty minutes later, they were at the top of the stairs. James opened the door onto a rooftop patio, complete with 360-degree views of the property and surrounding farms, a barbecue grill, three lounge chairs, and an American flag flying at half-staff.
“This is incredible!” said Jason. “I’ve never seen anything like this view.”
“Be right back,” said James, disappearing into the stairwell.
Five minutes later he returned with an unmarked bottle, half full, and two glasses.
“Look who I found?” he said, pointing to Chance, who had followed him back up. “You know, Jason, ranch work is hard and it’s good to take a break now and then. Truth is, I haven’t been up here in more than two months.
“Look around. What do you see, Jason?”
“Well,” he replied, “It’s the only place so far that I can see the whole property. I’m guessing it’s a good vantage point for a security perimeter.”
“That’s right,” replied James. “It’s the most peaceful spot on this property but may save our lives one of these days.”
“I can drink to that!” said Jason, taking the full glass James handed him.
Two hours later came a voice from the front of the house. “Time for lunch!” as the bell was rung on the front porch.
“That may be a problem,” said Jason.
The boys had got to talking, and James made two more trips down to the UG over the last couple hours.
“I’m kind of drunk,” Jason added, “and it was hard enough getting up the stairs sober with my bad leg.”
“I’ll go down and get us some lunch to eat up here,” said James. “I’ll let the ladies know we’re talking. I won’t lie to Janice if she catches wind about it, but if she doesn’t ask, I’m not volunteering to get my head chewed off!”
“Well, good luck,” said Jason, as James disappeared down the stairs.
Fifteen minutes later, Jason heard loud footsteps on the stairs. This can’t be good, he thought, as he reached for his shotgun.
Janice and Lauren stormed out from the top of the stairs and looked at Jason, with their arms crossed, not saying a word.
Chance, at Jason’s feet, laid his head down and sighed deeply.
“Where’s James?” asked Jason, just now realizing he was slurring his words.
“He would be the one passed out on the couch in the living room,” said Janice.
“It’s noon, and you’re drunk?” asked Lauren, clearly upset.
“Lauren, honey, I’m sorry. I just got carried away and…”
“And what?” she asked sharply.
“This is my fault,” Jason replied. “James didn’t want me to come up here with my bad leg, and I asked him for a sample of his alcohol.”
“What do I tell the girls?” asked Lauren. “Daddy’s stuck on the roof because he got drunk before lunch?”
“No. I don’t want them to see me like this.”
“They’re upstairs eating lunch. Let’s get you into the house. Janice, can you help me get him down the stairs?”
“Sure, Lauren,” she replied.
They got him off the roof, without much help from Jason.
“You may as well take the other couch over there by James, so you boys can sleep this off,” said Janice. “We will talk about it later today,” she added.
Jason had that sense of panic a child has when they are waiting for the punishment to come at a later time.
As he laid his head down and fell asleep, he knew one thing. He would cover for James and take the blame, no matter what.
Hours later, Jason awoke to see James sitting across the room from him on the other couch.
“I’m sorry, Jason. That never should have happened.”
“No. I started it by asking for a taste right after breakfast,” replied Jason. “Who does that?”
James laughed. “You know we’re in deep with the ladies, right?”
“Yeah, I know. I got an earful as they were helping me off the roof, with a promise of more to come. Weird, though… I don’t have a hangover!” said Jason.
“Another reason I have so many loyal customers,” replied James.
“Can we find the ladies?” asked Jason. “I want to get this over with as soon as possible.”
“Yeah, me too. The waiting is the hardest part, as Tom Petty once said.”
“Okay. Here’s the deal,” said Janice as she and Lauren came out of the kitchen, overhearing our conversation.
“What you boys did was stupid and irresponsible. It can’t happen again.”
“Agreed?” asked both Janice and Lauren.
“Yes, ma’am,” they both answered.
“You’re both on duty tomorrow night,” added Janice, “while Lauren and I get our break on the rooftop. I’m guessing you would rather have wine, though?” she asked Lauren. “Me too,” said Janice, as Lauren nodded her head.
“I don’t believe we will be passing out, so you guys can rest easy,” added Lauren.
“We made a mistake, Jason, and things like that will happen now and then… I guess we’re on dinner duty,” continued James.
“At the very least, I’m sure,” replied Jason, with both chuckling. “Seriously, though, the rooftop is a high vantage point. Is there anything we can do to secure it, in case we need to mount a defense?”
“I’m glad you asked,” replied James. “Remind me to show you the plans I’ve been drawing up.”
* * * * * * *
Chapter Twelve ~
Second Chances Ranch
Weston, Colorado
“Woof! Woof!” was the sound at the front door, with a low growl. Chance was crouched down and fixed on the front door.
“Rap! Rap! Rap!” was followed by a loud “Bang!” on the front door.
“Janice, get Lauren and the girls upstairs now,” said James in a low but firm voice. He looked through the peephole but could only make out shapes in the dark.
“Okay, Jason. I need you to cover the front door. It’s reinforced and should hold if they try to break in… I’m going around the side of the house,” he said quietly. “Whatever happens, don’t open the door.”
“Okay,” replied Jason, “but be careful.”
James slipped out the side door with his night-vision goggles on. Careful, he thought. They got here in the dark, so they either have night vision or a flashlight.
As he came around the side of the house, he kept close to the outer wall, walking in complete silence. Rounding the corner, he saw that the two men were armed, both with deer rifles.
He raised his twelve-gauge slowly, hoping he wouldn’t have to use it. He secretly wished they would go away but knew it would not happen.
Okay, talking to himself. Let’s get this done.
“How can I help y
ou, folks?” James asked, shining his flashlight into their faces.
One of the men and the woman raised their hands to shield their eyes from the light. The other man ducked down, raising his rifle.
“Lower your weapon,” yelled James, “so we can talk.”
“You won’t shoot?” the man asked, pointing his rifle to the ground.
“Why are you here?” asked James.
“Well,” the man replied. “We heard you are the man with the moonshine, and since the liquor store in town won’t take any cards or money, we’re ready to buy.”
“Where did you hear that?” asked James, skeptically. Over the years, James had limited his customers to a select group that he trusted to keep his operations confidential.
“The old guy, Winters,” he said.
“No, it was Whitters,” said the woman, still crouched down.
James knew him well, having been a loyal customer for years. He also knew there was only one way his old friend would give up information about his business.
“You have been misinformed,” said James bluntly. “Please get off my property.”
“No, we’re sure,” said the woman. “It was the last thing he said.”
“Now, you’ll be giving us what we want, or you can join the old man…and his wife,” added one of the men.
That was enough for Jason, as he heard the conversation through the front door.
He swung the door open quickly, shotgun raised, and fired on the trio as Chance charged out.
James added fire from the side of the house, without a return shot from the intruders.
Seconds later, there was only silence. Then came a whimper from Chance.
“Cover me,” said James to Jason, as he approached the downed trio.
Shining his flashlight, it was clear they were no longer a threat, and no medical intervention would help.
“I’m sorry, ma’am,” he said out loud. “I never meant for this to happen…”
Chance lay by the front door, panting, with blood under his hindquarters.
“Oh, boy. I’m sorry, Chance,” said James. He kneeled to check his new companion and was met by a lick on his cheek.
“Hold on, buddy. We’re going to get you fixed up.”
He lifted the dog, with Jason’s limited help, and brought him into the kitchen, calling for Janice to bring her medical kit.
She ran downstairs with her medical bag in hand and saw their new addition whimpering in pain.
“Hold him, James, while I check him,” she said.
An hour later, she had Chance stable. His right back leg had been cast, and nearly 30 12-gauge pellets were pulled from his hindquarters.
Even the girls pitched in to help. “You won’t find a tougher dog than him,” said Janice.
“Or sweeter,” added Candice, petting him on the head.
It had been a long day, but James didn’t want to leave three bodies at his front door for the girls to see.
He pulled Jason aside. “I’ll get the tractor and get them off the front stoop,” he said. “They will keep in the barn for now. Tomorrow we will decide what to do with them.”
The ladies and girls went to bed, with Jason and Chance waiting up for James.
* * * *
“Let’s keep your girls inside tomorrow,” said James, as he returned. “They don’t need to see any more blood.”
“Thanks, James. I agree,” replied Jason. “I’ll help with anything you need in the morning to get things cleaned up.”
Both men spent the next half hour answering questions from their wives.
Thankfully, thought Jason, the girls have gone to sleep quickly.
Morning came before long, with the girls being informed that this would be an inside day.
After morning chores, James told Jason he would be taking a short trip with Janice to old man Whitter’s place. He was pretty sure what he would find but had to see it for himself.
“All right, Jason. You’re on duty. Don’t go opening that front door again. There’s too much to lose in this house,” he added, pointing up the stairs at the girls’ room.
“I know,” replied Jason. “I’m sorry about that. I just panicked, I guess.”
James and Janice headed out on the four-wheeler for the short two-mile trek to the Whitter ranch.
“Is Mr. Whitter’s wife still alive?” asked Janice on their ride out. “I haven’t seen her in a while.”
“Well, I was up here a couple months ago, and she was still alive at that point. He just said she had some trouble getting around on her own.”
They turned off the road and through a wide-open gate to the Whitter Ranch.
“Real slow, honey,” said Janice. “I’ve never seen the gate open before and I don’t see his dogs out.”
Cautiously pulling up in front of the house, James could see the front door halfway open.
“Cover me, Janice. I’m not sure who’s in there.”
As he approached the door, he was taken back by the sickening odor coming from the house.
Quietly, without calling out, James walked the main house, clearing each room. His bandana covering his nose was barely enabling him to continue. There were cans, jars, snack wrappers, and empty bottles of various kinds of alcohol scattered across the floor of the living room and kitchen. Pill bottles were lined up on the fireplace mantle, all empty, with the first one reading Hydrocodone/APAP/Quantity 60.
He noticed four moonshine bottles, which he had sold the farmer not long ago, laying empty on the floor. They didn’t get any information off those bottles, he thought, since he had not ever marked a single jar with his or his ranch’s name.
James hesitated as he reached what he thought was the master bedroom. He still couldn’t tell where the overwhelming smell was coming from.
The master door was shut. He slowly turned the knob and found it unlocked. Opening the door, he gasped, staring at an old antique bed with its white duvet cover nearly completely covered in dried blood.
More stains were plastered across all four walls of the small room. There was no sign of his old friend or his wife.
This is the last room in the house, thought James, feeling sad for them.
“Think!” he said out loud. “They wouldn’t have buried them and left a mess like this, would they?”
He was silent, hearing only the sound of his rapidly beating heart.
A low, almost inaudible buzzing sound was coming from the kitchen. I must have missed that before when I cleared the space, he thought.
He approached cautiously, fixed on a small white door just off the side of the kitchen.
The smell was getting stronger, and the buzzing sound was coming from behind the door.
He raised his flashlight, not having to turn it on thus far. Shotgun at the ready, he slowly turned the knob. With the door opening outward, he was nearly overcome with the smell of death.
He shined his flashlight down the short staircase and was promptly hit in the face and torso by a swarm of large black flies, knocking him back and unintentionally causing his shotgun to discharge.
Without a word, Janice came through the front door, crouching low.
“I’m okay,” said James aloud, knowing Janice would be coming in behind him after hearing the shot.
“The house is clear,” he added, shining his light into the basement. “Janice, honey, I don’t think you want to see this.”
“Yes, I need to, if only to make sense of what happened last night.”
Now with each shining their flashlights into the basement, they saw their friend and his wife in a pile at the bottom of the stairs, with what appeared to be the bodies of their four dogs. The flies still there were mulling about, with no desire to escape the dark room.
“I have to take a closer look,” said James, as he walked down the stairs. “It looks like they had their throats cut, but I’m not sure about the dogs. I think they have been here for a while, at least a week.”
“So those people t
hat came to our house killed them and just stayed here until the food and liquor ran out?!” asked Janice, in disbelief.
“It appears so, honey. I know my old friend wouldn’t tell them about us unless it was life and death for him and his wife.”
Next World Series (Vol. 2): Families First [The Road] Page 13