me that a white feather means ‘peace.’ I think whoever left the arrow is
sending a message that they mean no harm.”
Lance raised his right eyebrow. “Oh, yeah?”
“Well, what do you think it means?”
Lance walked with the arrow toward his truck. “I think it means
we have a very unpredictable archer who has killed one person so
far.” He stored the arrow in the back seat of his vehicle and locked
the door. “And he killed that person pretty close by. Don’t be so naïve,
Sadie.”
“Okay, you win,” she said, as they entered through the kitchen door.
“Dinner’s ready. Let’s eat.”
Lance slipped off his gun belt and sat down at Sadie’s table in front
of a plate heaped with meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and fresh green beans.
“I’m starved,” he said, as he began to eat. “And it was nice of Becky
to give us an evening alone for a change.”
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“I know. She’s a nice girl, but I hope she figures out what she’s going to do soon.”
“I swear, Sadie, you’d take in a lost frog if you thought it needed a
new pond.” Lance took a bite of meatloaf. “This is really good, Sadie,”
he said, taking a long drink of Pepsi. “By the way, where is your froggy
roommate?”
“She went to check on her dad.”
“He’s a nice man.”
“She said she was going to call you. She wants to file rape charges
against Angus.”
“Oh?” Lance looked surprised. “Why’d she change her mind?”
“That’s not all she wants to file charges for.”
Lance laid his fork on his plate and looked questioningly at Sadie.
“I’m waiting.”
“He stole her grandfather’s land.”
A curious look crossed his face. “How’d he do that?”
“Angus is a jerk, and he can’t get away with his criminal behavior
forever. It’s about to catch up to his arrogant white ass regardless of how many politicians he has in whatever pocket.”
Lance took another bite of meatloaf. “And you’re going to see to
that, right?”
“Yes.” Sadie reached for a pile of papers at the edge of the table.
“I was going to wait until after dinner to talk to you about this, but we might as well start now. Angus has been acquiring land illegally, including the land adjacent to mine that belonged to Becky’s grandfather. Look
at this list. Angus has taken all of this land either by quiet title or forged deeds.”
“What’s quiet title?”
“It’s a process used when someone wants to claim property, usually
because it’s next to theirs, the original owners are deceased, it’s been
unoccupied for a long time, and no one knows who or where the de-
scendants are. An attorney draws up legal papers and runs an ad in the
local paper, which will never be seen by the descendants if they live
somewhere out of state, which is usually the case. If no one protests
in a stated amount of time, about three weeks, the title is ‘quieted’ and ownership is transferred. The whole thing only takes about six weeks.”
“And that’s legal?”
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“It is if you have a good lawyer doing it— like Eugene Hawk.”
Lance leaned back in his chair. “That sounds kind of like stealing
land to me.”
Sadie nodded. “Yeah, it kind of is.”
“But Grover Chuculate is alive and well,” Lance said. “Wouldn’t
he find out when the property taxes came due and he didn’t get a bill?”
“There is no tax bill on Indian land, remember?”
Lance nodded.
Sadie continued. “But that property was taken with a forged deed.”
“How does someone forge a dead man’s signature? George
Washington Chuculate is dead and has been for a while.”
“You backdate the deed to when he was still alive and then you
wait to file it until a later date. It’s called a ‘dresser drawer’ deed. People around here do it all the time. They think it saves them the cost of pro-bating an estate. And, like I said, if you have a good lawyer . . . and
Angus probably knows Grover is in bad health. We would have never
known if we hadn’t started snooping around at the county clerk’s office.”
“I really hate to ask what ‘snooping’ means.”
Lance’s cell phone rang. He looked at the number and dropped his
fork. “Sorry, hon, I’ve got to take this. They know I’m off duty; it must be an emergency.”
“Smith here,” he said, and then listened for only a few moments
before replying. “I’m on my way.” He hung up and dropped the phone
into his shirt pocket.
“I’m sorry, Sadie, I’ve got to run. There’s an emergency at the
Clyborn ranch.”
“Oh, good grief,” she said. “Angus Clyborn is always in crisis mode.
Can’t you at least finish your meal?”
Lance had already stood, buckled his gun belt in place, and attached
his badge. “I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he said, as he shoveled one last big bite of food into his mouth. He pushed his hat down on his head and
hurried out the door.
★
Lance sped the short distance from Sadie’s house to the Buffalo Ranch
and arrived to an emergency vehicle’s flashing lights. Lance parked
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between the house and the barn next to the ambulance, got out, and flipped on his flashlight. He disliked working a homicide in the dark,
if that’s what it was, but with dusk falling rapidly he had no choice.
Being the first one from the sheriff ’s office to arrive, he immediately took charge of the scene.
The anxious ambulance driver, a young Cherokee everyone called
Big John, approached Lance. “Glad you’re here,” he said. “I think this
guy’s been dead for a while.” Big John then led Lance to the body, still
propped against the side of the barn. “Once we determined he was dead,
I didn’t think we should move the body until you checked it out.”
Lance joined the other paramedic, who was standing several feet
away from the body as if he didn’t want to get too close. Shining his flashlight on the corpse, Lance barked into his handheld radio. “Dispatch.
Call the medical examiner and get him to the Angus Clyborn ranch as
soon as possible.”
Big John backed away, looking relieved that Lance had taken over.
Lance surveyed the area carefully. Angus’s cigar had fallen next to his
body and thankfully burnt out. It could have easily caused a fire in the dry grass, taking Angus and the entire structure with it. Lance returned his
attention to the body. The single bullet wound, at first glance, appeared to have entered Angus’s chest from the front, and when Lance leaned the
body forward, he could see no exit wound, indicating the bullet must still be inside the body. If they were lucky, they’d be able to retrieve it, which would give them more information about the murder weapon. Lance used
his flashlight to search the siding of the barn but could see no evidence of any additional bullets. He would be able to tell more in the daylight.
Lance motioned for Big John, who was leaning against the front of
the ambulance. “Did you see anyone else around?”
Big John nodded toward the house. “The wife called it in. She’s
inside.”
“Let me know when the ME gets here.”
; Lance turned and headed for the back door as Big John waved
an acknowledgment. The door behind the screen stood ajar, so Lance
knocked on the doorjamb.
A woman’s voice came from inside. “It’s open,” she said.
Lance entered and waited by the door, allowing his eyes to adjust
to the darkness. “Ma’am,” he said. “Do you mind if I turn on a light?”
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“Suit yourself.”
Lance found the light switch beside the door and flipped it on. A
light above the kitchen work area radiated from the ceiling. Camilla sat
at a table in the adjoining dining room, smoking a cigarette and sipping
on what he imagined to be a strong drink.
“Are you alone, ma’am?”
“It’s just me.” Her voice sounded indifferent.
“May I come in?” he asked.
“Sure. Make yourself at home.” She sat with her elbows on the ta-
ble, holding her head with her left hand.
Lance joined her at the table. “Mrs. Clyborn?”
“The one and only,” she said, taking a long drag from her cigarette
and a gulp of her drink. Her smudged red lipstick had bled into the lines radiating from her lips, and her blonde hair fell like straw around her
face.
“Do you know what happened to Angus?” he asked.
“It looks to me like someone got fed up with his bullshit and killed
him.” She stared straight ahead. “Serves him right,” she added.
Lance tried to hide his surprise. “Do you know who might have
wanted to kill him?”
Camilla grunted and turned her bloodshot eyes toward him. “Are
you kidding me? I can’t think of anyone who won’t be delighted to hear
the bastard’s dead. He’s been stealing land right and left, so any one of those landowners could have done it.”
“Stealing land?” Sadie was always right, he thought.
“Yeah, he’d find a piece of land he wanted and then intimidate the
people into selling it to him for next to nothing. If it was vacant, he’d have some papers drawn up and change the title, or if that didn’t work,
he’d just forge the deeds. A lot of land around here is just sitting there ripe for picking, and then no one seems to notice what’s happened to it
until it’s over and he’s taken title. I’ve been waiting for someone to strangle him barehanded.”
Lance pulled a notebook out of his shirt pocket and began to make
notes.
“Then there’re the hunts.” She returned her attention to her ciga-
rette and took another drink. “One of those COWA people from Tulsa
threatened to kill him to his face. I don’t know what her name is. And
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then there’s that damned white buffalo calf. I heard Eugene Hawk warn him about that, but Angus ignored him. Now the damned thing is missing. I think someone stole it. Maybe they came back and killed Angus.
Anybody could’ve done it.”
Lance made no comment, waiting for her to continue.
Camilla leaned back in her chair. “Quite frankly, I’ve thought about
killing him myself. He’s been trying to force me to sign over my interest in this place so he can put it into a trust. He wanted to make sure when
he died that neither Lucy nor I would end up with ownership in any of
it. He’s already screwed Lucy out of her place. She thinks it’s hers free and clear, but he never filed the deed. He’s so stupid. He doesn’t think I know any of this.”
“But you wouldn’t really consider killing your husband, would
you?”
“After being married to that son of a bitch as long as I have? Yes, sir.
Considered it many times.”
Lance thought the liquor was talking, but he had to ask. “Did you?”
he said, apologetically. “Did you murder Angus?”
“No, someone beat me to it,” she said, looking down at her hands.
“Is there anyone else you can think of who might have wanted him
dead?”
“His business- partner- in- crime, Hawk. I wouldn’t trust that Indian
as far as I could throw him.”
“You mean the tribal councilor, Eugene Hawk?” Lance clarified.
“Yes. I’ve never met a more crooked man. I don’t know how those
Cherokees could be so stupid to elect such a corrupt man to run the
tribe’s business. He’s not even a wolf in sheep’s clothing. He’s a snake.”
“What did he do to make you come to that conclusion, ma’am?”
“He’s the one who helped Angus find all this vacant Indian land
and then drew up the paperwork and had it forged. It was all his idea.”
“Why would he do that, ma’am?”
Camilla snorted and pushed her drink aside. “Why do you think?
Greed. Money. Eugene Hawk is the greediest bastard I’ve ever met.”
She took another long drag from her cigarette. “Next to Angus, that is.”
Lance exhaled slowly. “I’m going to need you to sign a statement.
We’ll send a car out for you tomorrow. Is there someone I can call for
you? How about Lucy? Is she at home? You shouldn’t be alone.”
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“No, leave her alone. I haven’t seen her in days. She’s probably gone home crying to her momma.”
“What about another relative?”
“There’s no one to call.” She let out a puff of smoke and extin-
guished her cigarette in the ashtray. “It doesn’t matter, anyway. I’ve been living alone ever since I married that man.”
Lance left Camilla sitting alone and returned outside. The medical
examiner arrived and Lance watched while he examined the body. In no
time at all, he motioned for the paramedics to zip Angus up in a body
bag. “I’ll meet you at my office,” the ME said. Then he turned his atten-
tion to Lance. “Getting a little carried away with murders on this road
aren’t you, Smith?” he said. “We’ve got an entry wound with no exit, so
if we’re lucky, we should be able to come up with a cartridge for you.”
Lance nodded. “Call me when you have something.”
“Will do.”
As the ME followed the ambulance out of the Buffalo Ranch, Lance
went to his truck and pulled out a roll of yellow crime- scene tape. Then he picked up the radio. “Sheriff, I’m going to need someone to secure
this crime scene until daylight. I’ll wait till they get here.” Lance dropped the radio on the seat of his vehicle and began to mark off a large area
around where they’d found Angus, including the barn. He would string
some across the entry when he left, to keep people out. He returned to
his truck and waited for whoever the sheriff was going to send to relieve him. While he waited, he made some more notes in his notebook.
A connection to the man killed earlier at the edge of Sadie’s prop-
erty seemed evident. If he had to guess, Angus had murdered him. But
proving that was going to be hard, especially now that Angus was dead,
too. Where did Eugene Hawk fit in? How was he making money off of
Angus? Maybe Angus and Hawk got in an argument and Hawk killed
him. That didn’t make much sense if Angus was greasing Hawk’s hand
with money.
The sound of a garage door opening caught his attention. He got
out of his truck and saw Camilla back a Cadillac out of the garage on
the other side of the house and tear off into the night.
“Stop!” he shouted. “You’re too drunk to be behind the wheel!” He
&n
bsp; stood next to his truck, hands on hips, watching the car speed away. “So
much for the grieving wife,” he said, reaching for his radio.
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“Dispatch,” Lance barked into the transmitter. “Notify Oklahoma Highway Patrol we’ve got a possible suspect fleeing the murder scene
at the Buffalo Ranch, female, possibly intoxicated, in a dark Cadillac
sedan, driving northeast on Eucha Road, most likely headed toward
Highway 20.”
“Ten- four,” the dispatcher responded. “Is the suspect armed?”
“Unknown,” Lance responded.
The sheriff ’s booming voice cut in. “Jennings left twenty minutes
ago to relieve you at the crime scene.”
“Ten- four.” Lance said, as he dropped the mic on the seat and cursed
into the still night air.
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Chapter 28
When Lance left Camilla alone in the house, her mind had begun to
race. She felt like a character in the Twilight Zone. Who killed Angus?
If it was Eugene Hawk he could easily return after everyone left and do
her in, too. Maybe he wanted the ranch. Maybe he’d fixed it up so he’d
get some money if Angus died, being his business partner and all. No,
that was crazy.
She ran her fingers through her hair, took another drag from a
freshly lit cigarette, and gulped straight whiskey from her glass. Why did she tell that deputy she wanted to kill Angus? It was the truth, but not
necessarily something she should have shared with law enforcement at
a murder scene.
She could never kill anyone. Her vision blurred, then she gagged
and placed her hand over her mouth to keep from throwing up.
Standing, she nearly tripped over her chair. The alcohol had im-
paired her muscle control, but not enough to quiet her mind. The room
shrank around her and claustrophobia overtook her. She looked out
the back door and could see the deputy nosing around the barn where
Angus had died. With a little luck, she could get halfway to Tulsa before he even knew she was gone. Clutching her purse, she dug for her keys
and ran into the attached garage. The garage door opener rumbled to
life when she hit the control, and as soon as the car cleared the door, she slammed the accelerator to the floorboard as hard as she could.
She didn’t even hit the brakes as she approached the entryway into
Betrayal at the Buffalo Ranch Page 21