San Rafael Jacked

by Tom Ellis

  “A half-breed Apache who was a deputy sheriff in Cochise County once told me my spirit will always be in Arizona. If that is so, it is in the San Rafael Valley. I went back for a couple of years after I retired. I lived near Tombstone in Cochise County. I drove over to the San Rafael a few times. I wanted one of those big ranches when I was in the border patrol, and I wanted one then. And both times I couldn’t even afford to ask the price. There was a nice one for sale in 03. I spent hours looking at in on the internet. I forwarded the web information to my accountant and business manager with a what do you think about this message. I could have written a check for the place. But my accountant didn’t think it was a good idea at the time.

  “I overruled him and bought it. BLM and State grazing leases make up most of the holding. I had the airstrip improved and lengthened to 3500 feet. And I had a hanger built that looks a lot like a barn. Other than those improvements, I left things as they were. All the help or I should say hands as the westerners call them, stayed on. The ranch makes a profit and I put in a liberal profit sharing program for my employees. That was something else my accountant didn’t like. But considering I am his largest client, he goes along with me.”

  “Why didn’t you move out there? You obviously like the place.”

  “I considered it. That valley is nothing more than a small town. The idea that a holding company purchased that ranch and they were outsiders didn’t go over well with the locals. Rumor was rife with speculation the place was going to turn into a gated housing development. Ironically, one of the reasons I bought the place was to keep that from happening. At that point in my life, I didn’t feel like fighting the outside interloper image. So I set things up to run themselves. I visit from time to time and speak with my ranch manager weekly. And things were beginning to come together between Jolene and me. I wasn’t going to lose another woman over Arizona. That is the long answer, why do you ask?”

  “My wife grew up on one of those big ranches and her brother still, runs it. Or at least we hope he does. He is AWOL, and no one knows where he is. The local cops are stonewalling Lois. Lyon’s attorney says something is wrong and because the sheriff has stonewalled him. Lois is meeting with Jolene because she heard her speak years ago when we were at Kessler. She is asking Jolene to find her brother. She has no idea I know you.”

  “Or what all the guns I’ve built you cost,” Burns added. He didn’t mention the covert weapons the General commissioned from time to time.

  “Exactly I’m one of your confidential customers. And want to be one again. Only this time, I want you to get my brother in law’s ranch back. Lois talked to someone named Bradford on the phone, and he claimed he bought it. No way Lyon would sell it.”

  “So your brother in law would be Lyon Hamilton of the Rocking H Bar Ranch?”

  “Yes, do you know him?”

  “I know of him. He’s one of the top horsemen in southern Arizona. And one of the more vocal ranchers about a holding company buying the ranch next door.”

  “Would that affect your objectivity in going out there?”

  “No. I regret that I didn’t make the time to meet my neighbors when I bought my ranch. David Cromwell was giving me hell about buying the place. And the folks that worked it and called it home were not happiest people when the sale happened. I spent the time I had placating them. I would have liked to have met Lyon Hamilton.

  “General, the cop side of me has to ask, is there any possibility your brother in law sold the place, skipped out with a bag of cash and is living the high life somewhere?”

  “I’ve asked myself the same thing. The answer is no. Lyon did a Navy hitch and came home to the family ranch. Lois’ family has owned that ranch since the days of Spanish Land Grants before the Gadsden purchase. Lyon Hamilton is the American that we military men are pleased to serve. He is a keeper of the land. That church we attended in Biloxi, the one with the African American preacher named Cleckler. Rev Cleckler and his family spent a week out there a couple of years back. Lyon is not living on a beach somewhere. I believe he is dead. I checked Lyon’s passport. It hasn’t been used for the past seven months.

  “I want you to go to Arizona, find out what happened and get the ranch the back. Let Jolene keep my wife informed and out of the line of fire. I will put the weight of my resources behind you and pay whatever price you want. Once you get there and access the situation; I will put a black ops team on standby at Fort Huachuca to back you up.

  “I believe your owning a ranch there will make things easier.”

  “Not in the way you might think. CRM Holdings own’s the ranch. Nobody in the San Rafael, other than my hands, know that I own CRM Holdings. My old friend Buddy Russell doesn’t know I own that ranch. And that secret has worked well for over five years now.”

  “You would not still be considered the enemy out there?”

  “Probably not, putting a cell phone tower in Patagonia Mountains caused a bit of a stir. But it looks like a tall tree, few folks can find it. And they all liked it.

  “I don’t have anything going on in my shop right now. General, I will go out there, but not as a rancher and member of the community. It will work better that way. We are going to need some encrypted communications for us to stay in touch.”

  “I remember Lois saying Lyon was bitching about that cell phone tower at the same time he was saying how great it was. I had no idea you were behind it. And I’m in the intelligence business. I will get you an encrypted satellite phone. It will also allow you to stay in contact with Reid, my black operations team leader. Reid will be collecting reconnaissance information you will likely need.”

  “Can you keep the Homeland Security at bay if need be?”

  “They’re easy, and I can keep the other agencies out of your business as well.”

  “I’ll loop in my contacts out there and see what Jolene has to say. Jolene will report sanitized information to Lois. I will report operational info to you. It is important that nobody knows we’re out there and what we are doing. I’ll get in touch with the time share service my jet is leased to and find out its schedule. We should be on the ground out there within two to three weeks.”

  “I appreciate your accepting this mission.”

  “I will keep you informed.”

  Hadfield thought about the meeting while driving back to Burn’s place. As she pushed the remote button to open the gate, Jolene wondered if she would ever think of where she now lived, as anything but Burn’s place? When she moved in, Hadfield didn’t think it would be a good idea to try and change things in a house that wasn’t hers. Still, there was that woman thing about painting walls and hanging new curtains. Most of Burns’ house was a world class man cave. Everything else was institutional generic. Guest rooms were complete with white walls and blinds on the windows. The furnishings barely a bed and chest, cheap motels had more class.

  The master bedroom was different. The walls were a brown color. And surprisingly Andy had agreed to her buying draperies for the windows. He handed her an American Express card and told her to keep the drapes Southwestern and in the bedroom she called hers, do whatever she wanted. When she tried to give him the card back, he said, “keep it you are an authorized user.” His comment about the drapes she chose. “Nice choice” And her room, after she gave the furniture to a thrift store, repainted the room and bought new furniture. “Good work. You could have hired a painter if you’d wanted.”

  On her way to find Andy, Jolene walked through the large kitchen, which was functional but not modern. She wanted to redo the kitchen. Knowing when to ask Burns could be a problem.

  She found him in his knife shop looking at a piece of steel shaped like a blade. There were several hours work left before the project would be complete. Hadfield learned after the first few days spent with Burns, that there were times he could not stop what he was doing for a chat. He was tactful when he explained the need for her watch for a few minutes before speaking. She quietly stood looking at him. Other t
han the gray hair, Burns had not changed one bit since the night she knocked his front door. She was investigating a missing person, whose body turned up in Burns’ lake. Now, Burns would walk with her, hiking the fire lane inside the fence that surrounded his square mile of Baldwin County Alabama. Other times he was on horseback riding the property. She drew a breath; this was a good time to interrupt.

  “Got a minute?”

  “For you always.”

  She gave him a peck on the cheek. “Unless you are entering parameters on the lathe using the drill press making a precision cut on a wood stock hammering on a red hot piece of steel the list goes on and on.”

  “You learned well. How was lunch?”

  “Interesting. That is what I want to talk about.”

  “Good, let’s walk down to the pier.” Jolene followed him out the door. She picked up a rod and reel which rested against the patio wall. While they walked to the lake, she filled him in on the details she learned. Burns nodded as he listened. One thing was sure about their relationship; he always listened to what she had to say, whether or not he appeared to be listening. When Jolene wanted Andy Burns’ attention, all she had to do was ask. Just not when he was hammering on a red hot piece of steel!

  He continued onto the pier and sat down on the bench facing the water. She paused at the cleaning table and opened a drawer holding artificial lures and bait. After attaching a plastic worm to the weighted hook, she joined Burns on the pier. Jolene cast the bait into the lake and slowly reeled it back in. It was just seconds before a bass took the bait. He watched while she played the fish for a minute or so and reeled it in. Realizing she was still dressed for lunch in town, he smiled as she danced around holding the rod and the fish away from her body. Jolene got the fish close enough to Andy that he caught the line and removed the fish from the hook. He got up from the bench and released the bass saying. “I’ve never caught a fish on the first cast.”

  “That’s because you were usually throwing the fishing pole into the lake.”

  He ignored the comment. Jolene seldom missed the chance to point out fishing wasn’t in his skill set and that she knew his proclivity for throwing rods and reels into the water.

  “Your description makes the story Mrs. General told you to sound the lot the plot of a B-grade western movie. Some nefarious criminal has stolen the ranch.”

  “Her name is not Mrs. General; it’s Lois Thornton, and her brother is missing. She is worried sick. Something is wrong out there.”

  “The first problem is that is a border ranch. Santa Cruz is the next county west of Cochise County. Cochise is the county where the Sheriff complaints about our borders not being secured. And with the level of narcotics smuggling going on out there, having a ranch on the US side of the border would be advantageous to a crook.”

  Burns contemplated the lake. Jolene sat beside him on the bench. He glanced back at her for a moment then looked back at the lake. “If I wanted to get into major smuggling I would hijack a border ranch in the San Rafael.” Burns hesitated and looked back at Jolene.

  “If that ranch was jacked, Lois Thornton’s brother is probably in an unmarked grave somewhere on it. It’s always possible he took a bundle of cash and left the country, but given his background I doubt it. Someone needs to go out there and ask questions and be prepared to be ignored and stonewalled.’ Burns paused again, ‘or worse.

  “Hadfield, I expect Lois Thornton has already asked you to go out there and find out what happened to her brother. That is not the kind of place a retired police chief from Mississippi goes poking around asking questions without knowing the lay of the land. There are some serious problems that border right now. A stranger asking questions is not welcome. And, the answers might be as simple as knocking on the door of the next ranch.”

  “I got the impression from Lois that those ranches are far apart. Not like next door neighbors in a town.”

  “That is right. My next door neighbor is just across the fence. But it is close to a mile and half by road to get to that neighbor’s house. Out there the ranch headquarters are more than any mile and a half apart. What works in our favor is that valley is worse than a small town neighborhood where everybody knows and minds everybody else’s business.”

  “Burns, how do you know so much about the San Rafael Valley?”

  “Short answer is I worked that Valley when I was in the Border Patrol.”

  “Do I want to know the long answer?”

  “You need to hear it. Whether or not you want to know it.”

  “Do tell.”

  “In 2003 CRM Holdings purchased a ranch in the San Rafael Valley.”

  “I suppose as the owner of CRM Holdings you were behind the purchase?”

  “Yes, and David Cromwell wasn’t happy with it either.”

  “Why?”

  “He didn’t believe it was a wise business decision. He thought I was thinking with my cowboy side.”

  “Was it a good decision?”

  “As far as the profit David expects from one of our ventures, it was not. However, it does not lose money. It turns a modest profit, and it keeps a pristine piece of God’s creation doing what He created it to do.”

  “OK, usually you tell me when CRM Holdings buys something else to hold. Why didn’t you mention buying a ranch?”

  “You knew my emotional attachment to Arizona. I didn’t want you thinking I was planning on moving back out there.”

  “Why would you not want to move back there? No, don’t answer, that is not a fair question.”

  “Arizona, cost me one wife, and one other woman. I saw the lowest years of my life there. Buddy Russell says my spirit will always be there. That may be so, but I’m not going to lose another good woman to Arizona.”

  Burns reached over and squeezed Jolene’s hand.

  She smiled and kissed him.

  “Burns is your ranch near Lyon Hamilton’s?”

  “I couldn’t tell you without looking at a property map of Hamilton’s ranch.”

  “How big is your ranch?”

  “Just under twelve thousand acres.” He answered sheepishly.

  “Twelve thousand acres! Burns that is huge!”

  “As far as western ranches go it is kind of small.”

  “If twelve thousand acres is small, I would hate to see big. Are we going to stay on your ranch when we go out there?”

  “No.”

  “Why?”

  “When CRM Holdings purchased the ranch. It was not popular with the community. The ranchers in the valley feared a big company buying the ranch meant the end of the valley as they knew. They worried about subdivisions and other encroachments on their way of life. I wasn’t even popular with my ranch hands, at least until after closing. Then they found out the only thing that was changing was the name, the equipment, and their paychecks. The equipment and the paychecks improved. The only real change I made on the ranch was improving the airstrip and building a hanger.

  “I made a mistake of not taking the time to go meet the neighbors. But I didn’t want any conflict. So I figured leaving it alone was for the best. I am an absentee owner, out of sight and out of mind. Other than my ranch hands nobody in that valley knows me. That’s why we’re not going to stay on the CRM.

  “Is CRM the name of your ranch?”

  “Yes.”

  “OK, what do you purpose doing now?”

  “In the interest of full disclosure, Lois Thornton’s husband, the General, came to see me while you went to meet her. His request was simple he wants us to go out there find out what happened to Lyon Hamilton and get the ranch back.”

  “I take it the General is one of your discreet customers whom you do not mention.”

  “He is that, and he authorizes work that falls under the protection of my security clearance.”

  “Of which I don’t have a need to know.”

  “Correct.”

  “I advised her to consider hiring your friend Buddy Russell, the private investigator,
to help her out.”

  “Good advice, that is what I told the General we would do. I need information before we go.”

  “So you have decided we are going to Arizona?”

  “Yes, with planning. You will report to Lois Hamilton. I will report as needed to the General. He will also provide me with clandestine support should the need arise.”

  “Define clandestine support.”

  “A black ops commando team.”

  “Oh, so the law and the Constitution have been suspended?”

  “Only when necessary to complete the mission.”

  “Now I’m being to understand Lois’s comment about the General's retirement not being what it seems.”

  “At times and always behind his back, the man is referred to as General Clout. He can probably get the President on the phone.”

  “So I’m expected to report the nice, polite sanitized version, and you tell the General what’s happening.”

  “Correct, because getting the ranch back from the bad guys won’t be as simple as it was in black and white TV westerns. And will take more than thirty minutes to do.”

  “You know, there are laws that cover that sort thing. I’m sure Arizona has them.”

  “They do. And we have the General.”

  “I would hate to tell Lois that her brother is in the south pacific living it up on the sale proceeds from the family ranch.”

  “It beats having to tell her he is dead or that he is alive well and in cahoots with the people who jacked his ranch.”

  Jolene thought about that for a moment before saying, “yeah.”

  “I also expect that Lois Thornton will need to file a missing person report with the Santa Cruz Sheriff. If they stonewall her on that, Rabun might be able can help. County Sheriffs have a national organization. They network with each other.”

  “It’s hard to believe our Deputy Sundae is now Sheriff Sundae. Do you think he will ever look like a sheriff?”

  “In the Hollywood sense of what a sheriff looks like, no. A sheriff looks like a guy who either fooled or convinced the voters into thinking he or she is the best person for the job. Bob Rabun didn’t have to fool any voters.”