Four Corners War

by Ted Clifton

  “No.” Ray shook his head. “He drove his own truck.”

  “If he’s looking for those tax files, it seems that would be a waste of time now, don’t you agree?”

  “Yeah, probably is. I don’t think the FBI ever needed those files, actually, and with Grimes being dead they’re not really relevant to anything. But of course, Trujillo may not know that, so he might still think they’re critical to making a case against Grimes.”

  “Well, still. It’s odd behavior for him just to take off and not let anyone know what he is doing. At any rate, I’d be careful about doing anything that could come back and bite us.”

  Ray and Tyee noticed how Travis seemed to have become more engaged in the matter. It was the first time either had heard him say anything like “us,” perhaps indicating he might be on their side. “I understand your concern,” Ray replied, “but I think if we don’t hear from him in another twenty-four hours, I will put out an alert. We’ll do it as an attempt to locate. It seems to me that if the acting sheriff disappears, we shouldn’t just ignore it. He could have enemies because of his duties, and his absence might not be related to the Grimes case at all.”

  Travis nodded. “I agree. Put the bulletin out tomorrow.” He cleared his throat and changed the subject. “You should know that I have talked to the governor.” He chuckled. “Or, more correctly, I have listened to the governor. He expressed deep concern about the continuity of the Grimes business enterprise. Now, I don’t believe that should be any concern of his, but he ignored my advice, of course. In a move that I’m sure exceeds his legal authority, he has authorized the New Mexico National Guard to send fifty troops here to guard the headquarters of the business.” He leveled his gaze at Ray and Tyee. “I know you work for this man. But I must tell you, I fear he may have lost his mind. During our conversation, he mentioned something about Colorado’s governor. And I may have misunderstood him. However, he sounded like he was declaring war against our neighboring state.”

  Tyee perked up. “He can’t do that. Can he?”

  “He’s got troops, and Graham has, too. Fuck, who knows what crazy people might do?” Ray’s greatest concern was for his friend—the wildly eccentric Governor Johnson.

  As soon as they stepped into the sheriff’s department, Sergeant Hoover came running. “Just got off the phone with Deputy Avery,” he announced, gasping for breath. “He was the one we had watching White. Said White went to the hospital and tried to strangle Bowles. The FBI broke it up. The deputy arrested White. He’s transporting him back here.”

  “Was Bowles hurt?” Tyee inquired.

  “Don’t think so. Avery said he was scared for sure. The nurses gave him something to calm him down. We think he’s okay, though.”

  “What the hell is that about? Has this whole town gone nuts?”

  Ray didn’t expect an answer, but the sergeant offered his opinion. “White was Grimes’s attorney before he became city attorney. And Bowles, he has to know everything. Maybe White didn’t want him talking to the FBI.”

  Ray shook his head. “That’s logical, in a sick kind of way. But to go to the hospital where the FBI are guarding the man and try and kill him—that’s just plain ol’ stupid.”

  Hoover nodded. “I used to arrest White and some of his pals when they were just kids, out smokin’ and drinkin’ and carryin’ on. That Mark White has one hell of a temper. Jake let him go more than once after fights all over town. If he and his family weren’t so well connected, he’d probably be in prison by now.”

  The receptionist came up. “They’re in the back with Mr. White. Where do you want him?”

  “Put him in interrogation room two.” He glanced at Ray hopefully. “You want to talk to him?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What the hell was that about?” Ray was in no mood for small talk. He and Tyee sat across from White.

  White slumped. “Gross stupidity. We got to talking, and it got heated, and I lost my temper. I wasn’t going to strangle him, no matter what the FBI guy says. I was just—just wringing his neck a little. Stupid. That’s what I should be arrested for—just being a dumbass.”

  Ray wasn’t buying. “Well, counselor, as I’m sure you know, being a dumbass is not a crime—at least not in this state. But assaulting someone with what appeared to be the intent of killing that person—that is. Still, my understanding is that Bowles says it was all just a misunderstanding, and he doesn’t want to bring charges. But the FBI can testify to your actions. That could still lead to a charge of assault. But,” he leaned forward, “for the time being, let’s just pretend this matter gets dropped. You walk out of here with no charges from what just happened with Bowles. How does that sound?”

  “Sounds like you’re offering a deal. What do you want me to do?”

  “Just tell us the truth.” Ray was pretty sure that this offer would not be agreed to by the DA or the FBI. But at this point he didn’t give a shit. He needed facts.

  White didn’t bite. “No reason I should trust you.”

  “No reason at all. Just say no, and we will proceed with the charges.”

  “Fuck.” White wilted. “I knew about the money—the tax money Grimes was stealing. Jeez, you’ve got to understand, I was not the only one. He’d get drunk and brag about it. He was a rich old fool who thought he was a goddamn genius. But he wasn’t.”

  “Who else knew?”

  “Well, of course, Bowles knew. Martin, his drinking buddy, knew. Although, I don’t think he understood the amounts involved. He wasn’t the brightest guy. The sheriff knew.”

  “You mean Jake Jackson?”

  “No—fuck, no. Jackson didn’t know shit. He was half nuts. I mean Thad Trujillo knew. Vickie knew, of course. She told Trujillo. Barbara Jackson knew. And his honor the mayor knew.”

  Tyee spoke up. “My god, who didn’t know? How could this have gone on so long without someone doing something?”

  “Everybody was afraid of Grimes. He was a crazy man. He always carried a gun. He talked about all the times he’d killed people—and I, for one, believed him. He had money, power—it was just too risky.”

  “Did anyone else get any of that money?” Ray asked, peering at White.

  “I sure didn’t. I think Bowles did, but I don’t know. If he gave anyone money, it was probably like a gift. You know—an envelope with a few thousand in it; that sort of thing.”

  “What did you mean the mayor knew? How was he involved?”

  “I don’t know. He called me once and asked if I knew anything about Grimes stealing money from the Navajos. At that time, I had no idea what he was talking about. That’s what I told him.”

  “Do you know who killed Martin?”

  “Martin came to me and said he was done with Grimes. Said he hated him and that he should be in jail or an insane asylum. I had never seen him that angry and vocal; he was always so subdued. He told me Barbara had brought him files that showed how Grimes was collecting the tax revenues and using bogus reservation sales numbers to cover it all. He took the files to Jackson, and he said Jackson told him he was going to arrest Grimes. Of course, Jake hated Grimes because of the affair with his wife, so it was easy to believe he might do that. Martin said he was letting me know because we’d been friends for so long, and he was worried I might be involved. We’d known each other since grade school, like a lot of people in this town. There is a lot of history.” He looked depressed.

  “I’d think Jackson also hated Martin because of an affair with his wife, wouldn’t you?”

  White shook his head quickly. “I never believed that. Just a silly rumor. That wasn’t Tom.”

  “What did you do after Martin told you that?” Ray asked.

  “I made a big mistake. I went to Grimes and told him. He went ballistic. He said he’d get those files from the dumbass sheriff, and nobody was going to talk to anyone or they’d all end up dead. He was obviously mad—a complete lunatic. I didn’t tell anybody. I just laid low. Pretty soon, in just in a few days,
Barbara, Tom, and Jake were all dead.”

  “But Grimes didn’t kill all of them.” Ray was a little confused about what White was saying.

  “All I know is he said they’d die, and they did. I’m sure he killed Tom. The way it happened; it was Grimes. I’m sure of it.”

  Ray leaned back. “Let’s be clear. Sheriff Jackson confessed to me that he killed his wife in a fit of anger. And I was on that mountain when he killed himself. Grimes wasn’t. But you’re probably right that he killed Martin.”

  He stopped to wonder what to do with this horrible man who was too much of a coward to save a lifelong friend’s life. Just let him go? No. “You know something, Mr. White? I believe you need a good attorney. You’re under arrest for aiding and abetting the theft of millions of dollars from the state and the federal government, and for obstruction of justice.” Ray opened the door. “Sergeant.”

  Hoover leaned in. “Yes, sir.”

  “Arrest this man and throw him in a cell—literally, if you wish.”

  White sat, shocked. “I thought we had a deal.”

  “We did. No charges for strangling Bowles. Everything else I can think of though; you will be charged. Lock him up!”

  Thad Trujillo stood in the lobby of the sheriff’s department—his sheriff’s department. The receptionist kept her eyes on him, noticing how he looked like he was waiting on something. He hadn’t said anything.

  She notified Sergeant Hoover, who bustled in and confronted him. “What the fuck, man? Where in the hell have you been? Do you know what’s been going on around here?” No reaction. “My god, say something.”

  Ray walked up. “Let’s take this to the conference room.” It was not a request. Tyee, Ray, and the sergeant all squeezed in to face the subdued Trujillo. “Okay,” Ray began, “let’s do this with some order. First, do you know who killed Martin?”

  “Don’t you want to know where I’ve been?”

  “I want answers,” Ray shot back, struggling to control his temper. “Do you know who killed Martin?”

  “No. I suspected Grimes. I don’t know why anyone else would kill him. He was a threat only to Grimes.”

  “You have no evidence against Grimes?”

  “No.”

  “Do you know who shot Grimes?”

  Trujillo’s jaw dropped. “Grimes has been shot? Is he dead? Did Vickie shoot him?”

  No one answered, all frowning. “You didn’t know?” Tyee asked.

  “How could I know? I’ve been gone.”

  Hoover repeated his earlier question. “Where the hell did you go?”

  Trujillo waved his hands. “Look—I know I should have told someone about this. But it was such a long shot, I thought it was best for me just to go and see. I knew Jackson had files from Grimes’s CFO that proved he was stealing the gas tax money. But he also had photos and tapes of meetings between Grimes and Begay. I don’t know how long he’d been working on it, but he told me he had all the evidence he needed to put both of them away. After he went nuts and left with his little army, I thought I might find it all here, but I didn’t. So, I decided he must have taken it with him. That’s why I went to Colorado, to look for it. And I found it, all of it—everything. Files, pictures, videos, audio recordings—it was all in some old, rusted-out tank.”

  Ray looked confused. “Video? Tapes? I thought it was all paper stuff that Barbara gave to Martin. Never heard about videos or tapes. How would she get those?”

  “No idea. But I found them, all labeled as surveillance of Grimes, with dates. And there are lots of them.”

  “Do you have these things with you?”

  “They’re outside, in my truck.”

  “Your keys,” Ray demanded. “Sergeant, go retrieve those items. Let’s set things up in the media room and see what we have.”

  Hoover hustled away to Trujillo’s truck. Ray and Tyee stepped outside for coffee.

  “What do you think?” Tyee asked.

  “If this checks out, it’ll lock down the case against Grimes and Begay. I’d be real surprised if there’s anything related to Martin’s murder, though. One thing it does for sure is to put Navajo Nation Police Captain Joshua Watchman on our list of people to talk to.”

  The sergeant set up the videos, which were so clear everyone could tell they were shot on high-quality equipment. Even ones taken in low light showed everything and everyone—mainly Grimes and Begay—with unmistakable clarity. Several captured Grimes handing packages to Begay. One showed Begay opening a package and fanning a bundle of cash. They also watched videos of Grimes talking with Martin and White. They switched to the audiotapes, each referenced to tie in with videos. Again, the evidence was damning.

  But the main suspect was dead, and the other was beyond the county’s jurisdiction. Ray shrugged. “Looks like we’d be arresting Grimes today, if he wasn’t dead. I’ll get hold of the FBI and BIA and let them know. They’ll have to deal with Begay. Sergeant, please lock all this up in the evidence room.”

  The receptionist leaned into the room to say, “Mr. Pacheco, you have a call from the governor.”

  Ray took a deep breath and went to Trujillo’s office to take the call. “Governor.”

  Johnson sounded strained. “Ray,” he said, “I’m old and tired. And now my fuckin’ doctor says I’ve got cancer. What an asshole. But it looks pretty bad. I’m going to fight it. Who knows? I’ve won long shots before. But I didn’t call to get any fuckin’ sympathy. Just wanted to find out if you’ll be able to wrap things up pretty soon. What do you say?”

  Ray hesitated, dumbstruck. The governor, odd and troublesome as he was, had become a friend and, in a strange way, a man he admired. “Sorry to hear about your, uh, your health, governor. If anyone can beat it, it would be you.” There were a few ticks of silence. Ray told the governor about the piles of evidence they had found that would nail down any doubt that Grimes was stealing money in collaboration with Begay. “What’s still an open question is who shot Grimes. I think we’ve got a strong circumstantial case that Grimes killed Martin, most likely because Martin was working with Sheriff Jackson to prove he was stealing tax dollars. With both Grimes and Martin dead, it may be pointless to push that matter any further.”

  “How about Trujillo? Does he get a thumbs-up or down?”

  “He’s made some big mistakes. He’s apparently in the gossip loop of the town, which means he’s been aware of some of the whispered secrets, but I’m not sure that should disqualify him. His biggest mistake was his romantic involvement with Grimes’s wife. That might be a dumb enough move that he shouldn’t be sheriff, but the choices are slim for a replacement. When it comes down to it, I think he’s a decent lawman. Let the voters decide if he’s a decent man.”

  “Always the philosopher. I agree. What do you have left to do?”

  “Need to find Grimes’s killer, and I have some ideas. Probably a little housekeeping with the Navajos, FBI, and BIA, too—but I can do that from T or C, and it’s not really our concern. I’ll give it a couple more days of digging, and if we can’t point to someone as the killer, we’ll go home.”

  “One favor while you’re still there. I don’t want Grimes’s business to collapse, if it can be avoided. That’s a few thousand employees and a major supplier of gasoline, especially in small markets. Letting it die would be very disruptive. Any idea who will inherit it?”

  Ray bit his lip, sorry to listen to Jeremiah Johnson not being his usual loud, in-your-face self. Even at that, he felt impressed by how concerned he was about the people who worked for Grimes. “It’s possible, of course, that everything will end up with his wife. I wouldn’t describe her as a businesswoman. But, hell—who knows? Maybe she’s smarter than the dumb blonde girl character she plays. And even if there’s a clear path to a new owner, the business is facing massive fines. It’s possible that it can’t be saved.”

  “Get involved a little,” Johnson urged. “Let me know what you think can be done. Ray,” he added, “I’m thinkin’ about resi
gning. It’s not fair to the state for me to be in a hospital, unable to do the job. The lieutenant governor’s a complete idiot, but he’s got a good heart. He’ll try his best, and that might not be worth much. But it’s better than me being half dead and hangin’ on. Think that announcement’s gonna come in about a week. Now, if you could come up with some way to salvage that business for those good folks before then, I’d greatly appreciate it. Keep me posted. Good luck, Ray.” The governor hung up.

  Ray just stood holding the phone. He felt old and tired, too, but he wasn’t dying. Still, he felt sorry for the governor, and for himself, if for a somewhat different reason. Shit. What could he do about a complicated business matter in just a few days? With or without a will, the business was almost certainly doomed. Nobody would want to touch a business stuck in the middle of an epic legal battle with the state and the feds, let alone rescue it. That was a losing proposition. Hundreds of convenience stores and gas stations would have to be shuttered all over the state and on the reservation. And the whole mess traced to the egomania of Lewis Grimes. The moment was far too late for a white knight.

  Or was it? He pondered, still holding the buzzing receiver. A deal could be struck with the state. And the feds were likely most interested in punishing Grimes and Begay, so shutting down the business might not be a priority for them, either. Ray was aware of the inkling of an idea taking shape in his mind.

  Tyee and Trujillo were still talking when Ray returned to the main office area.

  “Going to be around for a few more days,” he announced, and turned to put his eyes on Trujillo’s. “At this point I want to hand the reins of the department back to you. You should know I just now gave a lukewarm recommendation to the governor to appoint you sheriff until an election, whenever that might be. Lukewarm or not, it was a recommendation and I expect him to take it. Don’t screw up anymore—at least, not while I’m still in town. Okay?”