by Tom Ellis
Lois Thornton sat silent for a few moments. “Jolene let me think about this, I will call David. Meanwhile, let’s have lunch. And I want you to tell what you think of the San Rafael Valley.”
It was another six months before the books officially closed on the Bad Apple’s Investigation. Ron Kroll got his retirement. The FBI Director presented him his retired credentials personally at the Tucson Field Office. The moment shared with his wife, Supervisory Special Agent Ivalou V. Kroll and their daughter Lupe Kroll. Havelee Harris SAC Tucson, Special Agents Desmond Taylor, Mickey Morris and Ernesto Smith watched the presentation. Not that it mattered that much to Ron. He struggled with images of that day he almost died. The cowboy who gave him water took on the status of an angel in Kroll’s memory. And angels were real. A certified letter arrived at the apartment he where he with Ivalou Vargas Kroll and Lupe. It was from a bank in the Bahamas. On deposit in an interest bearing account was five million US dollars. The necessary instructions of how to transfer these funds to another bank. Kroll and Ivalou purchased an off the grid adobe home near Patagonia that overlooked the San Rafael Valley.
At the behest of Lois Thornton, Tobias Rutledge moved back to the Rocking H Bar and ran the ranch. Lois made it clear the sale of the ranch was pending, and TR would always have a home and employment there. So would Havelee Harris-Rutledge and her adopted daughter Larcena Sells Harris-Rutledge. Pepe, Larcena’s tame mountain lion, roamed the ranch at will. And would come and go via a doggie door installed in a window. The cat slept in Larcena’s bedroom.
Buddy Russell returned to his real estate business. Ron and Ivalou Kroll were his clients. And of course, Lois Thornton. The private investigation business closed. Benito ‘Burrito’ Cruz returned to his used car lot in Nogales. The Governor appointed Cruz Sheriff of Santa Cruz County. Russell was trying and not very successfully either, to avoid being Burrito’s Undersheriff. Not that either one of them needed a job. Burrito and Russell both received certified letters from the bank in the Bahamas.
The sun was rising behind Citation November Eight Zero X-Ray as it streaked across Texas. Andrew Burns rode in the co-pilot’s seat. In the left seat, a clean-cut young man piloted the aircraft. Burns hired him to bring the jet back to Mobile along with the passengers, the General, his wife, and her daughters. Burns would drive back to Alabama in the motorhome. When the aircraft touched down in Nogales, it was nine months since it last flew out of that airport. A brand new Sundowner horse trailer sat next to the motorhome in the hanger. Burns hitched it to the RV. Everyone else left in rental vehicles. Burns drove the coach to the Double B casita.
Carson Bell got out of Jeep FC170 truck at casita’s corral. He got and walked over to the pipe fence. He leaned on the fence and watched Burns work Don Camron. The horse responded to Burns every cue. Lyon Hamilton would be smiling.
“How is he doing?” Bell asked when Andy rode the horse over to where he stood.
“Like I never left. Cam and Jazz were glad to see me.”
“Where’s your lady?”
“She declined to make this trip. There are a couple of fishing tournaments on her calendar.”
“Well, I think Havelee has the idea we didn’t tell her everything. But that little Indian gal changed her heart. All the adoption papers went through on both the girls. Larcena is officially Larcena Sells Harris-Rutledge.”
“Harris-Rutledge? She and TR tie the knot?”
“Yes, they were married at sunset on that ridge above the Rocking H Bar headquarters. They rode off on a pair of matched geldings. The Collazo’s provided the horses. Havelee’s family came out from Oklahoma. It was a good wedding.”
“Good I think both of them deserve that. So does the little girl.”
“Burns I understand you want to buy this old jeep truck.”
“Carson all you have to do is name your price. I’ll have it shipped back to Alabama.”
“TR, Butter Billy, Miguel and Estella all got an interesting letter from a bank in the Bahamas. You wouldn’t know anything about that would you?”
“You know, Half Breed Russell said he got a letter like that. I thought he smoked something funny in his peace pipe.”
“My doctor tells me I’m suffering from congestive heart failure. I could go anytime. I have updated my will. Lupe Kroll will inherit the Double B when she becomes of age. Miguel and Estella will be allowed to live out their lives here with a nice stipend. Butter Billy and his intended Bonita will be employed for life as well. Butter will run the ranch. Ron and Ivalou are happy with this. They bring Lupe by every few days. This casita and 180 acres around it are willed to you. So is the Jeep truck, I hate to see it leave this place. My daddy brought it new. The will stipulates it has to remain here. You made things right in this valley so you should be part of it. I hope Lois Thornton makes as good of arrangement for Rocking H Bar and Tobias. I understand she’s sold the place. I hope it didn’t go another holding company like the one that owns the CRM. But, the Ranch Manager over there and all the hands say the ranch has never been better.”
Burns got off Don Cameron and removed his gloves; he extended his hand to Bell.
“Carson, I appreciate your bequest. I hope it is a long time coming. Lyon Hamilton would be pleased with the arrangement made for the Rocking H Bar. Lois is going to tell TR this evening.”
“I hope so. I have the urn with Lyon’s ashes. Lois asked me to bring it to you. I need to get back to the house so; I can get ready for this celebration she calls it. I think it is sad myself.”
The San Rafael Valley was resplendent in the sunlight that afternoon. All the ranchers’ wranglers’ cowboys and cowgirls of the valley gathered at the Rocking H Bar, as were businesspeople from Nogales, Patagonia, Sierra Vista and other parts of Santa Cruz County. Horsemen from all parts of Southern Arizona were there. Arrangements were in place for a large ranch style lunch and gathering. Buddy Russell and Burrito Cruz hung close to each other. Ernie Smith was with the Collazo family. Havelee graciously suffered being introduced to all of them. Ron and Ivalou Kroll watched Lupe and Larcena play.
Lois Thornton struck the iron triangle hanging on the front porch.
“My brother Lyon would appreciate all of you being here today. I have asked a friend to scatter Lyon’s ashes.”
A bagpipe began to play Amazing Grace. The Piper, in full kilt, slowly marched from the side of the ranch house and past the crowd. He marched up the ranch road toward the ridge.
When he heard the pipes playing Andy Burns rode Don Cameron from the south to the crest of the ridge. He paused where those in attendance could not see him. Burns took his hat off and bowed his head for a moment. He replaced his hat and removed the lid from the urn. The sound of pipes was beginning to fade as the Piper reached the crest of the ridge.
Andy put his spurs to Don Cameron’s flanks. The horse bolted forward with the dog in pursuit. Burns leaned forward and at the instant the horse crossed the ridge where the crowd could see them. Andy emptied the urn behind him. The gray cloud of ash took to the wind. It was at the spot where Lyon Hamilton liked to sit astride Don Cameron every evening and contemplate the day. Burns turned the horse out of sight and let him gallop north leaving the ranch that was once his home.
Burns was finished putting up Don Cameron when Lois Hamilton arrived at the Casita. She hugged Andy and went over to the horse and stroked his neck.
“There wasn’t a dry eye in that crowd when you came across that ridge scattering those ashes. Everyone recognized Don Cameron and Jazz.”
“There wasn’t a dry eye on that horse either. I sure would have like to have known your brother. Don Cameron is the best horse I’ve ever ridden.”
“There is still plenty of food. If you change your mind about coming over. TR and Havelee were overwhelmed when they learned the Rocking H Bar has been purchased by CRM Holdings and deeded to Larcena when she turns twenty-five. I understand that company has an educational fund for her and Lupe Kroll. That is most generous of them.”
> Lois Thornton handed Andy an envelope. “These documents have been properly executed. You are now the owner of Don Cameron of Lochiel and his sidekick Jazzman of Lochiel. These animals are my gift to you for your efforts on behalf of my brother, Lyon Hamilton. And Jolene said I could hug you.”
Andy Burns enjoyed a peaceful night in the San Rafael watching the stars and listening to the ghosts of the past. He loaded Don Cameron and Jazz into the trailer at first light. Everything was hooked up and ready when two ATV’s pulled up to the casita barn followed by the Jeep truck. TR, Butter Billy got out of one ATV, Russell, and Cruz the other. Miguel, Estella, and Carson Bell got out of the Jeep. They carried a couple of thermoses full of coffee. And a basket full of food.
“One goes with you on the road the other we drink now,” TR said.
They all stood around the picnic table, and Burns handed each man a sheathed knife. The knife blades were etched with their name and the Burns Maker logo. Butter Billy reacted first. He grabbed Andy in a bear hug lifting him off the ground.
“THANKS, MAN I NEVER HAD ANYBODY GIVE ME ANYTHING LIKE THIS!”
Burns recovered when the big cowboy sat him back on the ground and said, “You’re welcome.”
“What kind of steel Cowboy?” Russell asked.
“Made them out of an old rifle barrel Half Breed.”
“Andy I hope you make your way back to this valley sometime. I think you belong here.” TR said.
“Thanks, TR, this place is never too far from my mind.’ Burns handed TR an old book. ‘It is your job to ensure that Larcena knows the legacy of this valley. I suggest you start by teaching her story of the first Larcena to live here. This book is her story.” The book: With Their Own Blood: A Saga of Southwestern Pioneers.
Burns got a man hug from TR. The Cowboys went on their way leaving Russell and Cruz behind.
“How long before you get back traveling with the horse?” Cruz asked.
“Three maybe four days. I’m not in a hurry. I have corral reservations in several places. I won’t keep Cam in the trailer over ten hours a day.”
“I’ve got a question,” Russell said.
“Ask.”
“The holding company that purchased the Rocking H Bar, CRM Holdings. What does CRM stand for?”
“Charlie Raifield’s Money.”
“And what do you have to do with it?”
“That’s two questions Half Breed.”
“I’m an Indian what do you expect?”
Burns smiled. “I own it.”
Burns prediction of four days was right. It was late afternoon when he pulled through the gate at his place. Jolene walked with Burns as he led Don Cameron to the pasture where Major’s grave was. He opened the gate and let the horse go inside. Andy removed the halter and leaned against the gate. Jolene stood on the other side. Don Cameron looked around at his new surroundings. Jazz sat next to him scoping out the same things. The horse leaned down and cropped a mouth full of grass. He took a few more steps and took another bite or two. He lifted his head and shook like a dog and bolted off in the pasture.
He galloped to the far end and gracefully turned and thundered down the fence line toward Burns. Don Cameron made a sliding stop butt down mane and tail flying. He nuzzled Burns' arm and craned his neck across the fence and touched Jolene’s cheek with his nose. He turned and cantered to the gravesite. The horse stopped and sniffed the ground then walked reverently around it. He whinnied loudly and trotted back to Burns. Andy stroked his head and neck for a few minutes and then led him back to the barn. After putting him in a stall, Burns left some hay for the horse and made sure his water bucket was full. Jazz got water and feed as well.
Jolene and Andy walked back to the house holding hands. “Burns I need to tell you something.”
“What’s that?”
“I redecorated the kitchen.”
“It’s about time.”
“Burns!”
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About the Author
Tom Ellis is a retired police sergeant. As former contributing editor for Law Enforcement Technology Magazine he authored numerous articles on firearms, equipment, and training. He was a member of the Alabama Police High Power and Small Bore Rifle Teams, participating in the International Law Enforcement Games in Sydney Australia, Edmonton Alberta Canada, and Washington DC, USA. He lives in Saint Clair County, Alabama with his dog and two cats.
Biloxi Lights
When the CEO of a local casino is fished out of a lake by former police officer Andy Burns, it sours his otherwise peaceful retirement. Something about the murder weapon, a custom-made knife jutting inches above the late CEO's silk tie, sticks in Andy's mind. He's seen this blade before and Andy is not happy about the implications his admission will mean for an old friend.
Sergeant Jolene Hadfield is assigned the case, and despite rampant racism, sexism and nasty inept department politics that hamper her investigation, she comes to suspect an unlikely motive for revenge may be the reason for the murder. Her boss on the other hand, insists she button the case up, and pin the whole thing on a too convenient suspect—compelling evidence to the contrary or not. For Hadfield solving the crime might become secondary to keeping her job.
Burns and Hadfield might make an unlikely team, but together they have a shot at finding the real killer, even if it's going to make them rather unpopular in this part of Mississippi. This is not a fight either of them were looking for, but it's not one they plan on backing down from.
-- Also available in paperback --
Wrestling with Pigs
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A Tale of Bayou drug smuggling
The mystery begins when a barge and tug appear one morning, seemingly abandoned, at a remote shipyard on a South Louisiana bayou. Oddly, there are three national flags on board, but its owner and crew have vanished. The suspense builds when Louisiana State Police narcotics agents find fifteen tons of oil and water soaked marijuana in the hold. They quickly learn it is just the damaged dregs of the single largest importation of drugs in the history of the United States.
Wrestling with Pigs is a novel about smugglers, cops and corruption on the Cajun coast. Based on real events, this authentic story provides humorous, and sometimes graphic insight into police life complete with complex and flawed characters. It gives a gritty, and in-the-trenches look at the lucrative Central American-originating drug smuggling operations of the 80's and how U.S. law enforcement struggled to combat it. Political insights revealed may just change the reader's perception of organizational leadership inside police agencies and their bureaucracies.
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