At first Sam didn’t understand what was happening. People were speaking excitedly in Spanish, running around and pointing toward a police car about a half block from the church. As Isabella and Sam pushed their way closer to the car, Sam could see why Father John was not in the church saying Mass. He was lying across the road in front of a police car. Jaime was lying under the wheels in the back. Sam had a feeling Mass was going to be really late that morning.
Isabella walked over, bent down and talked to her dad for a moment and then stood up and went over to speak to the policemen. On the sidewalk a small Hispanic woman with a box of tamales was crying and wailing in Spanish. Sam recognized Pablo standing next to her. More people surrounded the woman as if to protect her. Isabella went to Father John and spoke a few minutes and then walked back to the police. Seconds later she turned and came over to Sam, shaking her head.
“What’s going on?” Sam asked.
“The police want to arrest that lady for selling tamales without a license. Her husband just died and she’s trying to earn money to feed her children. She’s a poor woman who speaks very little English and doesn’t understand what is going on. She’s frightened and afraid they will take her to jail. Father John was walking to church when he heard the woman crying and saw the police. He tried to talk to the officers but they wanted to take her to the police station. That’s when he laid down in the road to block the police car from moving. He sent someone to get my dad for help.” She cut her eyes over at Sam.
“Now this is what you call a real Mexican standoff!
The policemen looked around at the crowd and scratched their heads.
“I have an idea!” Isabella rushed over to the police and Sam could see her discussing something animatedly. They looked over at the poor, crying woman and then at each other. They shrugged their shoulders and held up their hands as if to say okay and then bent down to talk with Jaime and then to Father John.
A few seconds later, Jaime rose to his feet, brushed off his clothes and shook the policemen’s hands. People rushed over and helped Father John get up. He shook hands with the policemen and then they got in their car and drove away.
Applause and cheers erupted and the happy, enthusiastic crowd headed back to the church with a bewildered but smiling tamale lady. Isabella came back over to Sam.
“What did you do?” Sam asked
“I told the police that the church would help the woman get the license she needs tomorrow. I promised she wouldn’t sell anymore tamales until then, so they agreed to leave.”
When everyone was settled back in the church, Jaime got up and delivered his powerful and emotional poetic tribute to his priest. Tears flowed and people clapped when Father John got up to conduct the church services.
That Sunday Sam thought the Mass was the best she’d ever heard, even though it was all in Spanish and she only understood a few words.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Sam was in her office early on Monday morning. The phone rang and she hesitated a moment before answering it. Maybe it was Cheyenne. It wasn’t.
“Samantha, this is Sheriff Olson.”
“Oh, good morning Sheriff,” Sam answered trying not to sound too disappointed.
“I was wondering if you would come by my office sometime today so I can get your statement.”
“Sure thing. I have several appointments I need to make this morning, but after I finish I’ll head on over. I should be there by eleven, would that be okay?”
“That’ll work fine. Thanks”
Sam hung up and grabbed her gear. In a matter of minutes she and Dundee were on their way. Sam tried not to think about Cheyenne as she made her morning rounds. She hadn’t talked to him since Saturday night. Mitch hadn’t called back either.
“What the hell is wrong with me?” she asked Dundee when they were stopped at a red light. They were heading for their last appointment that morning and Sam couldn’t get Cheyenne out of her mind. “You’d think a man would appreciate a woman who is strong and independent, wouldn’t you?”
Dundee put his head in her lap and licked her hand.
“Thanks for trying to cheer me up. You’re the only male I can talk to right now.”
Sam noticed two older gentlemen in the car next to her truck. They were watching her with bewilderment. What’s their problem, Sam thought to herself. Haven’t they ever seen someone talk to their dog before? Then she looked over and realized they couldn’t see Dundee. Oh, great. They probably think I’m some nut case riding around in my truck talking to myself. Sam rolled down her window.
“I’m talking to my dog,” She told them. “You can’t see him but he’s sitting beside me.”
The men smiled slowly and nodded their balding heads.
“No, really. He’s right here. Get up Dundee!” Sam commanded.
Dundee sat still and licked her hand again.
The light turned green and the old gentlemen drove off laughing and shaking their heads.
“Thanks a lot! You’re a big help!”
Dundee jumped over the seat to his pillow.
Minutes later they drove up to Ralph Anderson’s dairy farm. He had called earlier that morning and asked Sam to come out and give his bull, Sampson, a checkup.
“He’s not acting right,” Ralph had told her.
“Get him in a stall. I’m on my way.” Sam told him.
When she got there she jumped out of her truck with Dundee and they walked to the barn where Ralph was waiting. Sampson wasn’t in a stall.
“I couldn’t get Sampson to move, doc,” he told her when Sam gave him a questioning look.
“Well, let’s see if I can check him in the field. Where is he?”
Ralph pointed to a pasture where a mountain of cow dung was piled high and Sampson was lying down at the top.
“Where did all this cow manure come from?” Sam asked.
“I’ve been scraping the pasture every so often and piling it up. I’ve been letting it sit and purify, so to speak. When it’s good and ripe I’m going to call one of those fertilizer companies and sell it to them as ‘natural fertilizer’. “Hell, it doesn’t get any more natural than this!” Ralph said with a laugh.
The three of them approached Sampson. The big bull turned and gave them a curious look but didn’t move.
“What are his symptoms? Has he been off his feed, lethargic or what?”
“He doesn’t move from that spot, doc. I haven’t seen him eat much at all. He sits there from morning to night. It ain’t natural.”
Sam studied the bull for a minute.
“Well, I can’t examine him there. Is there any way we can get him in a stall?”
“I tried all morning. He ain’t budging.”
Sam stared at Samson and decided to ease up to him to see if she could find anything obvious.
As she walked up to the enormous bull he looked at her but didn’t get up. Sam looked around to see if there were any glaring problems, but he looked healthy to her. Dundee went up to the bull and gave him a few sniffs.
“I don’t see anything wrong with him. When did you notice he wasn’t moving?”
“About the time I brought in a new bull a week ago. Ol’ Sampson is getting on in years so I thought it was time for me to get some new blood. I have Rambo in another pasture.”
Now Sam knew what the problem was.
“Animals are smarter than we realize, Mr. Anderson. Sampson probably knows there’s another bull on the place. Heck, he and Rambo have probably already met across the fence. I bet this is his favorite spot so he feels secure as long as he’s up here. Is that true?”
“Yeah, pretty much. Ol’ Sampson has always been the only bull around and he’s ruled his herd from this here perch. Me and the missus always laughed at him because he looked like he was the ‘king of the hill’ when he was sittin’ on top of this mountain of crap.”
“Well, this may sound weird, but I think Sampson knows he’s being replaced and he doesn’t want to leave his s
pot. As long as he’s up here he’s still the ‘king of the hill.”
Ralph took off his hat and scratched his head. “I never thought of that. So, what do I do?”
Sam looked at Ralph and shook her head. Besides being a vet, now she had to be an animal psychologist.
“Well, maybe you should move all your heifers to the pasture with Rambo and let Sampson have some time to think about it. Put his feed in his usual place and when he gets hungry he’ll eat. You can’t make this transition slowly. Let the new bull take over and retire Sampson. I’d let him stay in this pasture so he’ll be ‘king of the hill’ for awhile, and then you might want to contact CSU and get some help with animal husbandry. There’s a real art to this and it’s beyond my skill as a vet.”
“That sounds reasonable to me, doc. We’ll try it and see what happens.”
They turned and walked away. Suddenly Sam heard Sampson get up. She turned around in time to see him glaring at them and pawing the ground.
“Omigod, he’s going to charge!” Sam took off running and so did Ralph. They could hear Sampson thundering after them.
Sam was at least thirty years younger and a hundred pounds lighter than Ralph, but he beat her to the gate by a foot. Sam grabbed the top rail of the fence and vaulted over just as Ralph made it through the gate to safety. Dundee circled the bull and barked sharply. When Sampson turned in his direction, the dog raced for the gate and Ralph cracked it open for him to squeeze through. They all stopped to catch their breath and looked at Sampson across the fence. He stood there snorting.
“I think he knows the plan so I’d be careful,” Sam warned Ralph. Then she and Dundee headed back to her truck.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
At eleven sharp Sam walked into Sheriff Olson’s office with Dundee following close behind.
“Hello, Samantha” he greeted her. He reached down and patted Dundee on his head.
George Olson had been Sheriff for as long as Sam could remember. He was a good-natured soul and he and his wife were close friends with her parents. George was in his fifties and his uniform looked like it was stretched beyond its capacity, but underneath his bulky physique was a man with a no-nonsense attitude who was sincere about his job. Looking at him now, Sam felt a wave of guilt go through her because she had teased Cheyenne about calling him a professional.
“Do you want to write out your statement or tell me what happened verbally?” he asked.
Sam looked at the stack of official forms and decided to tell him what she saw. For the next half hour she went into every detail of what had happened the day Marietta was murdered.
“Well, I think that’s all I need,” he told her after she’d finished.
“Sheriff Olson, can you answer a few questions for me?” Sam asked.
“I’ll try.”
“Is Mitch a suspect in this case?”
Sheriff Olson leaned back in his chair and studied her a minute before he answered.
“I’d have to say yes, he is at this moment. How much do you know about Mitch?” he asked.
“Not much other than he’s a vet student at Colorado Northeastern Ag and is going to graduate in a few weeks.”
George Olson pulled his chair up to his desk and clasped his hands together.
“Samantha, did you ever hear about what happened when Lance Wilson sold all his cattle and went into the horse business?” he asked.
“I heard a little. I know he surprised everyone when he suddenly made the change.”
“Well, you were only 5 or 6 when it all happened. It was a real shock to everyone around here. No one could figure out why he was doing it. Some people thought he was having a nervous breakdown, but I kinda got the impression the whole thing was Marietta’s idea. She was thrilled to death over the change, but he was depressed for a long time. The sad thing was he laid off his ranch manager, a man named Samuel Calhoun. Samuel had been working for the Lazy W all his life. He and his wife, Abby, had twin sons, Mitch and Marcus. They were the same age as you.
Sam suddenly sat up. “Is he the same Mitch?” she asked.
George looked her in the eyes. “Yes, he is. Mitch and Marcus grew up on the Lazy W until their dad was laid off. Samuel was a lot older than Abby and when he lost his job he went into a deep depression. He drank a lot when he couldn’t get another job and ended up committing suicide soon after. It was a hard time for Abby and the twins.”
Sam looked at him in shock. “What happened to the boys and their mother after that?”
“Abby went back to Durango with them. That’s where she was from and her mother still lived there. Evidently Samuel didn’t have any life insurance so she was left penniless. She worked as a waitress and raised those two boys by herself. The twins had a hard life and were bitter about what had happened. They blamed the Wilson’s for their father’s suicide. When they got older, they changed their last names from Calhoun to Thompson, their mother’s maiden name. I think they wanted to distance themselves from the stigma of the Calhoun name. “
“That’s why the background check on Mitch came back inconclusive. Cheyenne told me about that.”
“That’s right. When the twins were in high school Abby found out she had cancer. From what I heard, she was very sick but managed to live until they graduated. I’m not real clear about what happened after that, but I heard the boys worked for a few years and fixed up the little home she left them in Durango. They sold it and used the money to help fund their way through college.”
Sam looked thoughtful. “How did Mitch get a job at the Lazy W? Did Lance know who he was?”
“Yes, Lance told me he knew about Mitch and Marcus. Evidently Abby contacted him before she died and asked him to watch out for her sons when she was gone. She was all the family they had. Lance called them but Marcus refused to have anything to do with him. Mitch, on the other hand, wasn’t as bitter as his brother and did come by to see Lance from time to time while he was in college. This past January, Lance gave him a job and let him move into the bunkhouse. You know the rest.”
Sheriff Olson sighed. “I don’t have proof but I believe Mitch may have been the one who injected the horses with that virus and wrote those notes. He had the motive and opportunity. Also, Marietta saw him put a letter in their mailbox. He sure fooled Lance. He didn’t think he had a grudge against them, but it looks like he did and was just biding his time. I’ve been looking for both of the boys to bring them in for questioning, but they’ve been lying low and I haven’t been able to find them.”
Sam shook her head in disbelief. “What about Marcus? Where has he been all this time?”
“He’s been at the University of Colorado in Boulder. He graduates next month with a degree in business. However, I found out that he’s been very active in an environmentalist group called the ‘Mother Earth Society’. They’re an outspoken organization and known to be radical at times. They’re suspected of causing that fire that burned down the main lodge at Silver Mountain Ski Resort a few years ago.”
“I heard about that. The resort got permission to expand their facility to include another mountain and it upset a lot of environmentalists. The lodge was burned down in protest.”
“That’s right. Well, that’s the story. I understand from Cheyenne that Mitch has been in contact with you. If you hear from him again you’ll let me know won’t you, Sam?”
Sam looked at the Sheriff and nodded yes.
“Mitch called me on Saturday night, but I haven’t heard from him since. If I do hear from him again I’ll let you know right away.”
Sam got up slowly and headed for the door. She stopped suddenly and turned around.
“Sheriff, I do have one more question. Do you know if Mitch and Marcus are identical twins?”
He thought a moment and frowned. “I don’t remember if they’re identical or not. Why do you ask?”
“I was just curious. See you later, sheriff.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Sam finished her afternoon rou
nds and drove home. She was deciding whether or not to call Isabella to see if they could meet for dinner when her phone rang.
“Doc?”
“Mitch, what’s going on? Where are you?”
“I can’t tell you,” he said. “But I need to talk to you. Can you meet me somewhere this evening?”
Cowgirl Up! Page 13