part0036

JED Lomax had parked his truck next to a blue Chevy Tahoe in the yard, got out and walked up on to the porch and rang the bell. Jed was always the first of Rod’s employees to arrive for work, and always made his presence known by ringing the bell, to usually be invited in for a cup of coffee by Ruth, and to be told by Rod what the first job of the day on the list was to get started in on.

Logan had fucked-up bigtime. As an ex-homicide detective, he should have been aware that a great many cops carried a back-up piece, usually in an ankle holster, because he had. But time had for some reason dulled his senses, and he had overlooked the fact that the detective curled up on the floor could still be armed and dangerous.

The double distraction was all that Fess needed. He reached down, drew a .22 Sig-Sauer, pointed it at Ruth and said to Rod and Logan, “What happens next is up to you two. If you don’t get rid of the guns, I’ll shoot the lady in the head.”

“If you do that, then you’ll be dead a second later,” Rod said, keeping the barrel of the Glock aimed at the cop.

“You’re bluffing,” Fess said. “I’m pretty sure that she’s your wife, and that you wouldn’t want to see her die in front of you.”

The seconds ticked by, and the only sound to be heard was of boiling beef fat bubbling and spitting in a skillet on the stove, as the tension in the kitchen built up with nerve-shredding pressure.

Jed walked around the side of the house to the rear, to rap on one of the six glass panes set into the top half of the laundry room door.

Logan made his move. Ruth was standing next to him at the open door into the hallway. He shouldered her sideways, hard, out of sight and harm’s way, and then dropped down on to one knee and reached for the gun in the waistband of his pants.

The main threat to Fess at that second in time was the guy sitting at the table pointing his own gun at him. He swung his backup around and loosed off a shot, but the slug went wide, to plow into the wall behind Rod, who did not hesitate in returning fire, putting two bullets into the cop; one in his upper right arm and the other into his chest, to then keep the barrel leveled at him, even after the weapon had slipped from the wounded man’s hand. Jesus! He wished that Logan had never turned up at his door, bringing so much trouble in his wake. But what was done was done. Rod went over to the body, searched for a pulse, and found a faint one, but the danger was passed.

“Get the door,” Logan said to Rod as he stood up. “But don’t let anyone in, and leave the gun on the counter next to you.”

Logan watched as the crooked police lieutenant’s lifeblood leaked out through his clothing, to pool on the floorboards and find gaps between them to drip down into the underfloor space. Bright red and frothy blood seeped from the dying man’s mouth, and Logan knew that one of the bullets had ripped through a lung and probably exited out of his back.

“Are you OK, boss?” Jed said as Rod unlocked the door and opened it. “I just heard what sounded like gunshots.”

“No, you didn’t,” Rod said to the thirty-year old man who had worked for him for more than a decade, and who he now thought of as almost a second son. “Everything is just fine and dandy. I want you to go over to the barn, take one of the quads and check out the fencing in the west pasture.”

Ruth was in a mild state of shock, and being knocked on to the floor in the hallway had taken the wind out of her, and her left shoulder ached from the impact with the carpet. Will helped her to her feet, and they both waited until Logan appeared at the kitchen doorway and told them to relax, that everything was OK, and asked them to go back into the living room for the time being.

“Is it really over and done with, now?” Will said.

“I reckon it is,” Logan said.

“Now what?” Rod said to Logan as he walked back into the kitchen and closed the door. “I just gunned down a cop.”

“He was a lone wolf, and would have murdered us all for the money. We need to get rid of the body and put all that’s happened behind us. Do you have any problem with that?”

Rod shook his head and said, “No, he was going to shoot Ruth, so he got what he deserved. I did what had to be done.”

Logan drove the pickup around to the rear of the house, and between them they placed Fess Anders body in the back and covered it with the tarp. Rod also fetched a chain and padlock from the barn, so that when Logan dumped the cop’s body down the mineshaft, he could lock the gates behind him on the way out.

Logan made a short detour to the banks of the Verde River, to throw the wiped weapons and the cell phone out as far as he could. He then smashed the SIM card he’d removed from cell and flicked it into the water. As far as he was concerned, the episode was now over; a done deal. He drove to the mine, dumped the bent cop’s body down the shaft to join the others, and then locked up the gates and headed back to the ranch. He was certain that the XT4 and the bodies would not be discovered, and decided that even if they were, what the hell, there was no possible way to tie them to him or the Big Apple ranch. He had once again become involved in trouble that he had not courted, and which had resulted in multiple deaths. His conscience was clear, though, because those that had died had been all too eager to kill for the sake of money.

Driving back to the ranch, a lone coyote loped out into the middle of the highway, to stop and watch his approach. He braked, and the canine seemed to stare at him through the windshield, unblinking and without fear, before trotting off the blacktop into sunbaked undergrowth and disappear. Logan smiled. The animal reminded him of himself. It was a loner that got by on instinct, with no thought of what the future may hold. He admired that quality. He always let his tomorrows unfold with no expectation or ambition to be anything more than he was; a free spirit who had no vast eternal plan, other than to follow his nose and make the most of every new day that dawned.

“Is that it?” Rod said, when Logan arrived back at the ranch.

“Yeah.” Logan said. “I reckon we can relax now, put it behind us and get on with getting on. People are going to be missed, but not found. We ended up with a win-win situation, so can get on with our lives.”

“What will you do now, Joe?”

“Move on in a couple of days. Just hit the road and head north. I’ll take fifty grand out of the duffel bag and leave the rest with you.”

“No buts, Rod. There’s no way that we can hand it over to the police, and money isn’t clean or dirty, it’s just paper. The robbers that stole it are dead; same as the guys from the casino, and the cop.”

Rod knew that it was pointless to argue. He would use the money sparingly, when he had the need to, and not in large amounts that would arouse suspicion.

There were tears in Will’s eyes on the morning that Logan dumped his backpack on the rear seat of the Chevy, before giving Ruth a hug and a kiss on the cheek, shaking Rod’s hand firmly, and then embracing Will and telling him to make the most of a new start at the ranch.

“I’d like it if you kept in touch,” Will said. “I’m going to miss being in your company.”

“I’ll give you a call now and then,” Logan said as he climbed into the car and drove away without waving or looking back. He was on the road again, and in no hurry to get anywhere too soon. It was mid afternoon when he drove into the lot of a Days Inn on West Route 66 in Flagstaff, to register in his real name, shower, dress in clean clothes and then stroll to a nearby hamburger restaurant that the girl behind the desk in reception had recommended. The food was fine, and the coffee was strong and black with a rich aroma.

Back in the motel room, now in possession of a large and sturdy cardboard box that he had purchased at Mail Box Plus on W Riordan Road, Logan packed the fifty thousand bucks he had taken from the duffel bag into it, scribbled a note to go inside, sealed it, and wrote a name and address on the front. He set the package on the nightstand, undressed, watched a news channel for a while, and then treated himself to ten hours sleep. After what had gone down since he had unwittingly driven along the mountain road, where a rockfall had all but demolished an SUV, he felt dog-tired and needed to recharge his batteries.

At nine a.m. the following morning, Logan walked to the Mail Box Plus, posted the money, and had breakfast in a Denny’s before returning to the motel and checking out. He drove north from Flagstaff, knowing that he was heading for Colorado with the intention of looking up Kate Donner in Carson Creek, because he needed to see her again. Sometimes the heart overruled the head, which disconcerted him.

Over two weeks later, after stopping off for a day or two at each of five small towns along the way, he reached Denver, the Mile-High City, to check into a motel, dump his backpack in a closet, and sit on the bed and make a phone call.

Kate answered after six rings.

“How’re you doing?” Logan said. “And how’s the mutt?”

“I’m OK, Logan, and so is Bama. He’s slowed down a lot over the past couple years and is a little grayer around the muzzle, but is still a force to be reckoned with. Where are you?”

“I’m in Denver. I thought it would be nice to meet up again. What do you think?”

“That you’re pain in the ass, and don’t know what you want from life.”

“Is that a yes or a no?”

“It’s a yes with reservation. I’ve moved. I’m now in a duplex on Quincy Road; number 35.”

“I plan on being in the Creek the day after tomorrow. Is that OK?”

“I guess it is,” Kate said. “But don’t expect to just jump my bones and then take off into the great blue yonder. I don’t need or want a one-night stand, Logan.”

“See you soon,” Logan said, and terminated the call. Kate had sounded friendly but a little reticent. She knew him for what he was, and he wasn’t a keeper. He was more than a little scared of commitment, and she knew it. It was an ingrained trait that he had lived with all his adult life, and he didn’t know if he had what it took to open his heart and mind to being in a long-term relationship. He needed to resolve the problem, though it was difficult to envisage being capable of doing so. He had always been of the opinion that if he had nothing or no one that he really deeply cared about, then he had nothing worth shit to lose.

After grabbing a shower and then taking a long walk, Logan finally entered a small family run deli, on W Colfax Ave, ordered coffee and thought things through. Perhaps arranging to visit Kate was a big mistake. He was usually a good decision maker, but this was a leap into the dark; one that he knew could turn out to be life-changing. He didn’t just care a lot for Kate, on some unfathomable level he loved the woman, but didn’t believe that he had the qualities to be worthy of her. He was just an ex-cop with itchy feet and an almost morbid fear of permanence. He had a day’s grace to think it over, to then call her again and take a rain check and maybe head west through Utah and Nevada with a yen to visit Frisco and see the ocean.