by Mark Gannon
Sheriff Rawlins was in the lead with two deputies and Reggie and the poker group close behind. “What the hell’s going on Mitch? Reggie is giving us some wild tale about Ned being dead down here. Is that Ned laying there beside you?” Rawlins didn’t pay any attention to Ernesto – just swatted him with his hat to back him off. Rawlins knelt down next to me and checked for a pulse to satisfy himself.
Before I could answer back he snapped out, “Hell, he ain’t dead. Corpses don’t breath. You should know that Mitch.” I did not get a chance to tell him I knew that. But I did get a chance to breathe in the fumes left behind by the sheriff. Playing poker on the ride went with a good bit of alcohol. “Why don’t you move back and let my boys in here to help me.” Raising his voice several notches, “The rest of you back up. This here is now a crime scene and you may be destroying evidence. Back up!”
When the crowd didn’t move fast enough Rawlins let loose with a string of swear words and ended up, “You damn fools need to back off. If you don’t back off, me and my boys will back you off!” Rawlins looked at me and snarled, “That includes you Mitch.” I got the message and moved back.
Rawlins rolled Ned over to get a better look at the knife wound. “Shine that light here. Would you look at that toad stabber? Sure is a fancy one. Seems Like I’ve seen that one before.”
Sheriff Rawlins quickly organized events from there. Good thing he had many years of experience so he could keep his head in an emergency. “Bucky!” A wide form appeared and turned into deputy Buckmire – Bucky for short. “You get up to my pickup and bring it down here so we can shine some lights on this mess. And you get someone to round up Lowe and get him down here. Now move and I don’t mean a fast walk!” Bucky took off at a fast lope pushing the spectators out of his way as he ran through the assembling crowd.
A sheriff in an urban area probably has a cruiser or an unmarked car. In the Black Hills of South Dakota the sheriff ride was a heavy duty crew cab diesel pickup. Bucky got impatient with the crowd and started honking the horn to separate the crowd and allow him to pull up close with his head lights on bright. Of course that was okay with the crowd as they could finally see the scene in front of them.
Ernesto was straining at his rope and trying to break away. Frank showed up and moved Ernesto to another area while all the time receiving dirty looks from Rawlins. A silver haired gent I didn’t know pushed through the crowd. As he came forward Rawlins growled at him to stay back. Silver Hair said, “I’m a doctor. Let me look at him.” That shut up Rawlins as he waived Silver Hair forward.
In the middle of all this was poor Ned Tanner stretched out on the ground. As we all watched Silver Hair checked on Ned. After some fussing, Silver Hair put on a pair of gloves and pulled the knife from Tanner’s chest. Rawlins barked at Bucky, ‘Get a bag to put the knife in.’
Silver Hair yelled just as loudly, “And get a compress to hold on this wound.”
Before Bucky had a chance to move Rawlins barked again, “Use the radio and get a helicopter ambulance on the way from the Deadwood hospital. And if the radio won’t reach use the SAT phone in the console.”
Things rolled from there. Cap Lowe showed up and was told to put a road block on the exit out of camp. I was told to go up and shut down the entertainment tent. The camp vehicles were organized into a circle with headlights on a level spot between the entertainment tent and dining tent so the helicopter would have a lighted landing pad.
The helicopter from the hospital landed and the medics ran over. They shoved Rawlins out of the way he got the rest of us back. After applying a compress they had to enlist two deputies to help lift Ned’s heavy body onto the stretcher. Once the helicopter lifted off with Ned on board everyone was milling around trying to find out what had happened. Slowly the vehicles were parked back by the tents and trailers. Some pickups that were owned by the most inebriated of the group just sat where they were for the rest of the night.
Chapter 19
Cops All Over
John, Frank and I were gathered outside our tent sitting on lawn chairs. John stirred up the fire and added a couple more logs. “We are going to be up for a while so we might as well have some fire. Besides I’ll feel better with more light in general. ”
“I think my adrenaline rush is wearing off.” Frank was reducing his adrenaline rush with several quick beers picked up from the entertainment tent as he assisted John and me in kicking out the drunks and locking up the booze. “You guys should have seen Sheriff Rawlins look at me when he showed me my knife. How the hell did my knife get out of my belt pouch and into Ned? You guys know I always carry that Buck knife on my belt. Sheriff showed me my knife with my name scrolled into the blade and I reached down to my scabbard and it was sure enough empty. And then he tells me I better stick around and not wander off too far. Shit you guys know I wouldn’t stick old Ned.” Lacking a response from us, “Right guys?”
Frank needed some support. “We know you didn’t stab Ned. But that knife of yours sticking out his chest makes things look bad for you. I can see why Sheriff Rawlins is suspicious of you.”
John chipped in with “At least he didn’t put you under arrest. If he was really thinking you did it you would be in one of those patrol vehicles headed for the jail at Deadwood.”
“I just hope Ned pulls through. He was still alive when the helicopter lifted off according to what I heard.” I pushed one of the logs further into the fire. “I don’t want to have Ned die for several reasons. First I liked the old fart but also I want less heat on you. If Ned pulls through he can tell the sheriff who did this.” I turned to Frank. “You better be saying some prayers for that old man.” Frank just nodded his head.
“I wish I could get a hold of Laurie and let her know what is going on. The damn cell phone doesn’t work up here. I thought that was a good thing – like a break from having to let people know where I am. Not so good now. She is going to hear some awful stuff about this before I get a chance to let her know what happened. Did anyone get to leave?”
John answered back, “The only ones I saw leave were some of the sheriff deputies. And then I saw more deputies pull in. I didn’t know the county had that many deputies.”
“Well it wasn’t all county police. There are quite a few state troopers mixed in out there.” I looked up as I said this and was confirmed in my statement. Two state patrol officers were walking into our camp area.
“We need a list of all the people in your tent with their addresses and contact information. Just fill out one of these forms for each of you.” Typical state troopers –no manners. Just tell you to do something and you better listen.
As I filled out the form I asked, “Any word on Ned Tanner? How is he doing? Did he make it to the hospital alive?”
“That’s not public information. Just fill out the form.” After we all completed forms and handed them back they firmly told us, “You stay in camp. No one can leave without our permission. We may be back to ask some questions.”
John was having some deep thoughts while the troopers moved onto the next tent. “You know I have defended a lot of people and sat while they were under questioning. I’ve never been questioned myself. This will be a unique experience.”
I asked John, “Shouldn’t you have gone with Frank when he was questioned? I mean he needs legal representation.”
“That’s right, John. I need an attorney. Why didn’t you come with me when I was questioned?” Frank sounded a little shocked and indignant.
John replied calmly, “I’m not a criminal defense attorney. I may be more of a hindrance than a help. If you think you need legal representation to answer some questions it may make you look guilty.”
“I never thought of that.” Frank searched in the cooler and brought a beer out of the ice water and shook it off and looked at the label. “Rawlins just kept asking me if I did it. And if I didn’t stick Ned, how did my knife get in his chest? And when was the last time I knew I had my knife?” Frank shook his head in e
xasperation. “Like you always know when something is on your belt and when it falls out. If I knew it fell out, I would have picked it up and not lost it in the first place. Damn I’m thirsty after that session answering questions. Thirsty enough to drink this strange brew whatever it is.” With that Frank popped the top and drained most of the beer in one long pull.
John actually raised his voice at Frank. “Damn, Frank, that was special ale I was saving for Saturday night to go with the last night’s dinner.”
Frank made a face and said, “Well it tastes like someone threw some burnt log into the vat.”
“That is charcoal aging you beer mutt.” John stirred the fire and yawned. It was getting late.
I asked, “You think Ned is going to make it? He really didn’t look good and he never did come to at all.”
John could see I was worrying about the old fart. “He’s a tough old shit Mitch. But his weight and the cigarettes are against him. Frankly I’m surprised he was still alive when he left.”
I had to comment. “Ned is a tough old shit.” He’s tough in a lot of ways. “You know John – I’ve been thinking. Ned may die and if he dies that will be murder. That means someone here at the trail ride is a murderer. I mean one of the guys we’ve been drinking or playing cards with stuck a knife in Ned. He may not always be the easiest to get along with, but murder? What does someone have against Ned that they would murder him? Not for a minute do I think you did it Frank. You may have a temper but you don’t use guns and knives.”
It was chilling thought to me. The Black Hills is still very rural and low population. You hear about murder in large cities but not in rural South Dakota. I mean the largest city anywhere close was Rapid City at fifty thousand people. Serious violent crime is just not a normal occurrence. And with this group of mature professionals that are all somewhat vetted, a fist fight was unusual let alone a murder.
I looked at John and said, “The more important question is who did it? I have always been a believer in the trail ride rule of no guns allowed in camp. Right now I’m not so sure I like the thought of sleeping out here tonight with a possible murderer running loose. Sure we’ve got all these cops running around. But it’s not like we have a house that we can lock up with an alarm system. This tent won’t keep anybody out if they want to come in. You know John. I may have forgotten about that gun rule when I took off on this trip. There may be a Sig Sauer forty five under the front seat of my pickup. Just maybe I’ll mosey over to the pickup and check on that.”
John smiled and said, “Just maybe there is a Ruger thirty eight in my duffle bag that I forgot to take out before coming up here.”
As I came back from my pickup lugging my Sig Sauer I said, “Well if anybody stumbles into our tent tonight they better identify themselves first. “
John added a word of caution. “Let’s try not to shoot the troopers if they come back. That would be bad.” Like I always say John has a good head on his shoulders.
Frank whined, “And all I had was my toad sticker and now the cops have that as evidence. You guys be real careful with those pop guns. If I get up in the middle of the night to have another beverage or to get rid of some beverage, I don’t want to be full of holes.” I slept much better with that big forty-five under my pillow.
Chapter 20
Noise in the Night
I slept soundly for a short time before I started squirming and wiggling. The sounds that occasionally came from outside the tent didn’t help. Every rustle of leaves from the wind, every deer grazing within one hundred yards sounded like a murderer crouching outside the tent ready to spring.
After more tossing and turning I finally fell back to sleep. I was in the state where you aren’t fully asleep but can’t come awake and your mind wanders to everything you can’t control. Was Ned going to come through? Who attacked him? How was Louise holding up? Was Frank’s wife Laurie getting an earful of rumors about Frank’s knife being the assault weapon? How long were the cops going to keep the camp locked down? Was Dan okay down on the tie line? Who was going to haul Ernesto home for Ned? I think Ned drove that wreck of a pickup to the ride. Who was going to take that back to town? Was Frank actually involved? I can’t believe that but even if it is one of your best friends you still wonder. But Frank wasn’t that type. I knew that but in a semi-sleep state everything pops up and looks possible.
Who did it? Who would stab Ned and leave him for dead? It was someone in camp. A host of possible faces swam by my brain eye. But none of them seemed likely candidates. How well do I really know everyone on the ride? Some of them I don’t know at all. And even the locals that I do know I don’t know as well as Frank and I was even questioning him.
The more I drifted with all these thoughts the more uneasy I was becoming. Jumpy doesn’t even describe my state of mind and everyone in camp was probably on the same wave length. Well almost everyone – Frank was one of the night noises. He was snoring away without an apparent care in the world. How could he sleep? It was his knife found in Ned.
As I rolled over one more time I tried to move my forty-five under the pillow and the damn thing went off. The noise was huge. Damn I hope I didn’t shoot someone. I jumped up and ran into John who was up and stumbling around with his gun. I gasped out, “I didn’t mean to fire my gun!” As we both stood there in the dark of the tent jumping out of our skin there was another explosion outside our tent.
What followed was a volley of shots coming from all over camp. The shooting rolled from one edge of camp to the other and back again. For a short while it sounded like a war zone. After a small lull in the firing two more quick shots came from close by. My brain finally kicked in and I hollered, “Get down!” to John as I dropped to the floor. If someone is out there shooting in the dark there was no telling where the shots were going. Quiet followed the gunfire as the whole camp waited to hear what was next.
Several different voices swearing all at once came from the direction of the last shots. John and I hugged the ground and crawled to the flap opening to peek out. As we made it outside there was more light than in the tent. A half-moon was setting and throwing light over the camp. There was a huddle of campers at the next tent over. One man was waiving a huge revolver in the air and shouting, “I swear there was something out there.” Apparently John and I were not the only ones to have accidentally brought our guns along. For a while it sounded like half the camp had brought along guns.
Within a few seconds a fleet of flashlights were headed our direction. From the voices behind the flashlights it was apparent most of them belonged to cops. The man with the gun was tackled and immobilized in a flash. He hollered out, “What are you grabbing me for? Get out in the woods and get that son of a bitch I heard outside the tent!”
The state trooper setting on his back said, “That son of a bitch you were shooting at was me going by on patrol. Let’s hope you didn’t shoot anybody accidentally.”
Chapter 21
Questions Before Coffee
When breakfast time rolled around John and I were both groggy from lack of sleep. Between nervousness and all the night time activity I slept very little. From John’s puffy eyes and lethargic movements he had fared no better. Frank was ready, dressed, shaved and moving. “Come on you guys. You’re going to miss breakfast if you don’t get moving.” How did he roll out with that much energy? “You know when I was out washing up somebody told me there was some shooting going on in camp. And it sounded like it was a tent right near us. I can’t imagine we slept right through that. I thought we weren’t supposed to bring guns along on the ride.”
I gasped, “You mean you slept through it? While the bullets were flying John and I were trying to protect our tent and you snored through the whole thing.”
“Yah, Laurie says I could sleep through a tornado. Well, see you guys in a bit at chow, I’m going to go check on the horses.” And with that Frank headed off to the tie line.
I turned to ask John something but stopped when I saw him fing
ering a hole in the tent’s wall. The hole was about a foot above the height of our bunks. “I think it’s a good thing we hugged the ground last night. We almost had a second fatality.”
“John, we don’t know that hole wasn’t there before.”
“Mitch, this is a brand new tent. There weren’t any holes in it when I set this up. That son of a bitch next door about blew us away.” I’m not sure about John but the hair on the back of my neck was standing at attention. “One thing you said I don’t agree with.” John looked over to me while he kept his finger in the hole. “You said another fatality. We don’t know yet about Ned.”
My stomach was talking to me. “Let’s go grab some breakfast and see if there is any update on Ned.”
“Okay. But do you know how much that tent cost? And now it has two holes in it.”
“Two?” I asked.
“Well that bullet didn’t stop to visit.” John pointed to a hole in the opposite wall.
It was a beautiful sunny summer morning. The air was still night cool but with the sunshine it would start climbing quickly. Too bad such a beautiful day was going to be wasted with a crime scene investigation. This was the atypical day for which the Trail Ride was created. Some nearby camper had already started a fire or maybe it burned all night. The tree sap was crackling and the pine aroma curled by our tent. As we stepped out of the tent deputy Buckmire appeared. “Sheriff Rawlins wants to see you both.”
“But we haven’t had breakfast.” I whined.
“I don’t think the sheriff cares. He’s in a bad mood after losing at poker and having his trail ride interrupted. Plus he has a crime scene investigator from the state troopers that is ragging on him about how messed up the crime scene is.”
Bucky dropped us off at the entertainment tent. Ducking inside we saw Sheriff Rawlins sitting at one of the picnic tables with one of his other deputies. He started in before we even got sat down across from him. Rawlins took a sip of a large coffee mug. The aroma wafted over to us and we both lighted up until we looked around and noticed there wasn’t a pot handy for us. “Oh – you want some coffee. Too bad. Cookie brought this over special just for me.”