Betrayal at the Buffalo Ranch

by Sara Sue Hoklotubbe

  Sadie let out a long breath.

  “Don’t wait so long to come back,” he added. “Okay?”

  Becky appeared to be holding back tears as she nodded. Sadie shook

  Grover’s hand and thanked him for the tea. “You’ve got some nice horses

  there, Grover. Do you still ride?”

  Grover grinned and his eyes came alive as he gazed at the corral.

  “Oh, every once in a while,” he said.

  Sadie and Becky climbed into Sadie’s car and headed back toward

  the travel office.

  “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Sadie asked.

  “His health is failing, Sadie.” Becky’s voice broke. “I may have

  waited too long to come back home. I don’t think he’s going to last much

  longer.”

  They rode in silence, Sadie lost in her own thoughts as Becky stared

  aimlessly out the window.

  ★

  Sadie parked her car in front of the travel office and turned to Becky.

  “Would you mind coming to the courthouse with me? There’s some-

  thing I want you to see.”

  “Sure.”

  Sadie checked on Beanie and, confident everything was okay, she

  and Becky walked down the block toward the county building. Once

  inside, Sadie directed Becky to the county clerk’s office. Renny, the same young girl with the oversized glasses who had helped Sadie before, recognized her and walked to the counter.

  “Oh, Renny, I’m so glad you’re here,” Sadie said. “I have more

  questions about the area I was looking at before. Can you help me?”

  “Of course. Follow me.”

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  Sadie and Becky followed Renny through the maze of shelves to the table with three computers clustered on it. On the wall behind the

  computers hung the large map Sadie had seen before.

  “I’m sorry to be such a pest,” Sadie said, “but can you show me

  again how to look up the ownership of the land that is adjacent to mine?”

  “No problem. I’m glad to have something to do.”

  Renny sat in front of one of the computers and her fingers flew

  across the keyboard. “Walela, is that right?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Sadie said. “Can you show me the property directly

  behind mine first?” She stepped to the map and pointed at the area.

  “Oh, okay.” In a few short minutes Renny had brought up the legal

  description of the property. “Same as I told you before. The owner is

  Anton Clyborn.”

  “That can’t be,” Becky said. “That’s my father’s land. It’s in the

  name of Chuculate. Grover Chuculate.”

  Renny’s large brown eyes shifted to Becky. “Are you sure he didn’t

  sell it? I think it changed ownership a few months ago.” She began to

  type again. “Just a minute, and I’ll show you a copy of the deed that’s

  on file.”

  A few seconds later a document appeared on the computer screen.

  “See? Grover Chuculate deeded it to Anton Clyborn on February

  twenty- fourth.”

  Becky looked stunned. “I don’t believe it,” she said. “That’s wrong.”

  “Hold on and I’ll print a copy for you.” Then she stopped and

  looked at Becky. “It’ll cost a dollar a page.”

  “That’s okay,” Sadie spoke up. “Print away.” She pointed at the map

  again. “And, while you’re at it, can you also print copies of the deeds to these surrounding properties?”

  “No problem. Just give me a minute. If you want to wait up front,

  I’ll bring them to you.”

  Sadie and Becky quietly filed into the waiting area and sat down,

  Becky staring into space as if she were in shock. In a few short minutes, Renny appeared with several printed pages and spread them across the

  counter.

  “Here they are, in date order,” she said. “It looks like most of them

  were notarized in the last six months or so. And, interestingly enough,”

  she added, “they were all notarized by the same notary.”

  134

  “Let’s see.” Sadie turned the pages toward her. “Do you happen to know this notary, Renny?”

  “Virginia Blackburn. I’m pretty sure she works for Eugene Hawk.

  You know, the tribal councilor?”

  Sadie blinked twice. “Some of this property changed ownership

  through the process of quiet title?”

  Renny nodded her head. “It looks like it.”

  “What are these documents from the Bureau of Indian Affairs?”

  Becky asked.

  “When Indian land, or land originally allotted to tribal citizens, is

  transferred to non- Indians,” explained Renny, “the BIA has to sign off

  on it.”

  “Can we take these copies with us, Renny?” Sadie asked.

  “They’re all yours as soon as you give me sixteen dollars.”

  Sadie rummaged in her purse and pulled out a twenty- dollar bill.

  “Keep the change, Renny. You’ve been very helpful.”

  “Gee, thanks.” Renny smiled. “Come back anytime.”

  As they walked out into the hall, Becky grabbed Sadie’s arm. “Wait,”

  she said, stopping Sadie in mid- stride.

  They moved out of the way of several men in suits passing in the

  hallway. “Don’t worry, Becky. We’ll get to the bottom of this.”

  Anger flashed across Becky’s face. “I’ve decided to file charges

  against Angus for raping me and for stealing my land. If that bastard

  thinks he can take whatever he wants from my family and me, and get

  away with it, well, he’s wrong. Dead wrong.”

  ★

  Hawk ended the call, dropped his cell phone in his shirt pocket, and

  cursed. He was beginning to hate John Henry Greenleaf. It had been

  the chief ’s idea to steal a few buffalo from the free shipment being sent to the Cherokee Nation. They would hide the bison, he’d said, and then

  secretly sell them to a ranch in North Dakota and split the money.

  But it had been up to Hawk to forge a relationship with Angus to

  hide the animals on the Buffalo Ranch. Now, he hated the day he’d first

  shook hands with Angus Clyborn. Angus had demanded to keep a few

  of the bison for the hunting ranch, along with a cut of the money for

  135

  hiding the buffalo. Then he’d taken over the operation by hiring Kenny Sanders to facilitate the transfer of the bison from Yellowstone to

  Oklahoma through an outfit in Wyoming called Travers Bison Ranch.

  They were to deliver most of the herd to the Cherokee Nation and then

  drop off a few extra at the Buffalo Ranch for Angus, Greenleaf, and

  Hawk. No one would think anything about buffalo arriving at Clyborn’s

  ranch, and then Hawk would doctor the original documentation so the

  animals couldn’t be traced. Not even the employees at the tribe would

  know.

  Now Chief Greenleaf was waffling, wanting to know how he could

  get some of the buffalo transferred back to the Cherokee Nation. Hawk

  didn’t know if the chief was getting cold feet or was just stupid; at the moment, he thought the latter seemed more accurate.

  He couldn’t believe the Cherokee people had fallen for Greenleaf ’s

  lies and reelected him to a second term. Greenleaf was ruthless, and

  Hawk knew that if any of this came unraveled the chief would throw

  him to the wolves without a second thought, along with anyone else

  who got in the way.

  He hadn’
t mentioned the white calf to Greenleaf. No telling what

  the money- grubbing chief would do with that information. He’d proba-

  bly put the animal in a pen and sell tickets to his own Cherokee people

  to see it— even sadder, thought Hawk, they would probably go for it.

  No, the white calf was a problem he had taken on his own shoulders

  and now he had no idea what to do about it. All he knew was he couldn’t

  let Angus put it up for the highest bidder to be hunted down and stuffed.

  He could secretly move it back to the Cherokee Nation’s herd and let

  them deal with it, but if he was going to do that, he was going to have

  to hurry. The calf was growing every day, and it wouldn’t take a wizard

  to tell that it wasn’t exactly a newborn anymore. How was he going to

  explain its magical appearance?

  He guided Pepper into the trailer for another ride north to check on

  the buffalo cow and calf. He’d decided this time he would leave Pepper

  there. He was getting tired of transporting the horse back and forth, and Pepper could keep the cow and calf company. Then all he’d have to do is

  keep delivering food to the animals until he could come up with a solu-

  tion to his mounting problems, and at the top of that list was the biggest problem of all— Angus Clyborn.

  136

  Chapter 23

  Sadie folded the copies Renny had given her and shoved them into her

  purse. Her mind churned. She hated Angus Clyborn. He’d never been a

  part of the local community; he looked down at everyone and exuded

  such arrogance she wished he’d go back to wherever he’d come from.

  She had felt in her gut something was wrong with Angus’s land grabbing

  from the beginning, and she was right.

  “What are we going to do, Sadie?” Becky hurried to keep up with

  Sadie’s quick steps. “He can’t get away with this, can he?”

  “We’re going to expose the old goat for the criminal he is, that’s

  what we’re going to do.”

  Sadie pushed through the front door of Paradise Travel and strode

  to her desk. “Pull up a seat, Becky.”

  Beanie looked up from her computer screen. “Everything okay,

  Sadie?”

  “It will be,” Sadie said. “It will be.”

  Beanie answered the phone and Sadie began her computer search.

  Becky pulled her chair next to Sadie and watched.

  “First, we’re going to see if we can locate the other property owners

  listed on these deeds. Call them off to me.”

  One by one, the women searched for names. All but two, Becky’s

  father and the man Sadie had recently seen on the courthouse steps,

  brought up obituaries.

  “Damn, he’s been forging dead people’s names.” Becky sounded

  exasperated.

  “Every one of these obituaries list survivors,” Sadie said, pushing

  her seat away from her desk. “And it looks like they all live out of state.

  They would have no idea what’s going on with their ancestors’ land.”

  Becky smoothed her hair behind her ears. “So, what do we do now?”

  137

  Sadie shuffled through the copies of documents again. “Look at this, Becky. Not only is the notary the same on all of these, but it looks like the signatures of the landowners have a striking resemblance.”

  “I think the same person forged all of these names, don’t you?”

  Becky stared at the pages. “Why didn’t somebody catch this?”

  “I doubt either the county clerk or the BIA would question signa-

  tures that had been notarized, and unless the documents came across

  the same person’s desk at the same time, no one would notice the simi-

  larities.” Sadie turned to Beanie. “Beanie, do you know someone named

  Virginia Blackburn? I think she may work in Eugene Hawk’s office.”

  “Yes, Virginia Blackburn was in my graduating class. I’ve heard of

  Eugene Hawk, but I don’t know him personally.”

  “How well do you know Virginia?”

  “Not very,” Beanie said. “I remember she got in trouble for turning

  in a paper she got off the Internet. She got suspended and almost didn’t

  graduate.”

  “Sounds like a fine, upstanding woman,” Becky interjected.

  “Would you know her handwriting?” Sadie asked.

  “No.” Beanie shook her head.

  Sadie stood and began to pace, and then stopped mid- stride. “Beanie,

  does Lucy have access to signature cards at the bank?”

  Beanie smiled. “She sure does. You want me to see if Virginia is a

  customer?”

  “No, I don’t want to get anyone in trouble.”

  “Not a problem.” Beanie picked up her cell phone, but Sadie

  stopped her.

  “Wait. I need to think this through,” Sadie said.

  Beanie placed her phone next to the computer and watched as Sadie

  paced in front of her desk.

  “It’s not Virginia’s signature we need to see,” Sadie said. “We need

  to figure out who forged the signatures that Virginia notarized.” She

  dropped into one of the empty chairs facing Beanie and chewed on

  her lip before speaking again. “If Eugene Hawk is working the legal,

  or maybe I should say illegal, end to acquire these parcels of restricted land, then he’s going to need someone he trusts to actually forge the signatures.” Sadie looked at Becky and then back at Beanie. “Wonder who

  else works in Eugene Hawk’s office?”

  138

  “I have no idea. I’ve never been in that office,” Beanie said.

  Sadie stood and walked to the front glass door of the travel agency

  and pointed with her head. “It’s right there next to the drugstore,

  right?”

  Beanie nodded, and Becky sat quietly staring into space.

  “I’ve got an idea.” Sadie walked to her desk, opened an empty ma-

  nila folder, and began to fill it with travel brochures, business cards, and a yellow legal pad. Next, she pulled out her purse, applied some fresh

  lipstick, and ran a brush through her hair.

  “What are you going to do, Sadie?” Beanie asked.

  Sadie headed through the front door with the folder under her left

  arm. “Punt,” she said.

  ★

  Sadie strode up the sidewalk, crossed the street, and arrived in front of an antique- looking door with the words “Robert Eugene Hawk, Attorney

  at Law” emblazoned in ornate lettering on the glass. She took a deep

  breath and entered.

  A young woman sat behind a metal desk talking on the phone.

  When she saw Sadie, she hung up. “May I help you?” she asked.

  Sadie smiled. “Oh, I hope so. Ann, is it?” she said, nodding toward

  the nameplate sitting on the corner of the woman’s desk.

  The woman nodded. “Yes.”

  “I manage the Playin’ in Paradise Travel office down the street.”

  She extracted a business card from her folder and handed it to the young

  woman. “My company is giving away a trip to Maui, and I’m trying to

  get everyone signed up. Have you ever been to Hawai‘i?”

  Ann’s face lit up. “Oh, I’d love to win a trip to Hawai‘i,” she said,

  and then she frowned. “What’s the catch?”

  “No catch,” Sadie’s heart began to pound. “All you have to do is

  write down your name, address, and phone number, then I’ll enter your

  name in the cont
est— when you win we’ll give you a call.”

  “Really? That’s it?”

  Sadie pushed the legal pad in front of her. “Just sign right there at

  the top of the page.”

  Ann began to write.

  139

  Sadie looked for other employees, but all she could see was an empty hallway. “Is there anyone else in the office you think might want

  to enter?” she asked.

  “Ginny and Dot. Hold on.” Ann picked up the phone. “Ginny, can

  you and Dot come up front for a moment?”

  An Indian woman, her long black braid draped in front of her left

  shoulder, appeared and stood next to Ann’s desk. “Dot’s on the line

  with John Henry, uh, I mean, Chief Greenleaf,” she said. “She’ll be

  here in a minute.” She turned to Sadie and offered her hand. “Hi, I’m

  Virginia.”

  Sadie immediately recognized Virginia, or Ginny as Ann had re-

  ferred to her, as one of the women who had been with Chief Greenleaf

  at Jason Clyborn’s funeral.

  “Hello.” Sadie introduced herself, gave her a business card, and ex-

  plained the contest to win a trip to Maui.

  An older Indian woman appeared and stood next to Virginia.

  “What’s this I hear about a trip to Hawai‘i?”

  “You must be Dot,” Sadie said.

  “Dorothy,” the woman said as they shook hands.

  Sadie repeated her sales pitch, explaining how everyone should go

  to Maui at least once and how this was the opportunity of a lifetime.

  Each woman took their turn adding their name, address, and phone

  number to Sadie’s makeshift prize entry form.

  “Do you mind if I leave some brochures here for your customers?”

  “I’ll take them,” Dorothy said, extending her hand. “I’ll have to run

  it by Mr. Hawk first.”

  “Great.” Sadie handed a stack of promotional material to her, con-

  cluding that, as the oldest of the three, Dorothy, or Dot as her cowork-

  ers addressed her, seemed to be in charge. “Thank you and good luck,”

  Sadie said.

  She left the law office and retraced her steps back to Playin’ in

  Paradise. Beanie and Becky stood waiting at the front door.

  “What happened?” Becky asked.

  “Yeah, what did you do?” Beanie added.

  Sadie produced her legal pad. “I have three women’s handwriting,

  but there’s a problem.”

  Becky took the pad from her. “What is it?”