Courage To Follow (Cowboys of Courage 1)

by Charlene Bright

  She was back there in less than a minute searching the labels. “We’re going back ten years and seventeen years, right? So I need this drawer.” As she said it, she yanked open the cabinet drawer and started fingering through the tabs on the files. She stopped with her hand on one and turned to glance at him. “What month was the incident with your parents?” she asked softly.

  The muscle in his jaw twitched involuntarily. “May.”

  She tabbed through three more files and pulled out the next one. “That’s one down, and one to go. The original investigation started in February, so that’s the file I’ll pull.” She found that one even faster and jerked it out. Sidling back through the maze, she joined Garrett, who was on edge and anxious for the information.

  Garrett knew the payroll only came through twice a month, and that meant each of these folders would have two sets of payroll information. He grabbed a single sheet from the newer file while Shakota took one from the older file. “I’ve got six names here,” she told him as he stared at the four names in front of him. “I’d be willing to bet Hoyt’s the only one listed on both.”

  They compared the two, and Garrett was right. However, he noticed that Leland Maynard apparently came on board during the second half of May, right about the time his parents were killed. In fact, based on the payroll, it looked like he signed on the day after the incident. “That seems a little coincidental,” he mused.

  “What are you talking about?” Shakota asked. He explained it to her, and she took a moment to think about it before answering. “Wait, I think the more important thing is who disappeared at that time. Whoever it was is more suspicious than Leland Maynard.”

  She had a point, and he went back to the comparison. “Damn, I think whoever it was left the month before.”

  Shakota just smiled and wound her way back to the cabinet. Garrett would have stopped her, but he really needed to know. He’d just have to find a very special way to thank her later. “Aha!” she called, running her finger down the list of names in the file she withdrew. “In the second half of April, one Deputy Arnold Renner received only his vacation accrual pay, which means he either quit or got fired before the incident.”

  Garrett perused the list from the first infraction and smiled. “There’s our connection. He worked here at least as far back as the original charges that were nearly filed and got Hoyt thrown in his own jail. So, for some reason, he got to thinking and decided he was about to be outed for this, and Hoyt had played dead to try to save his own life.” But how did that involve Garrett?

  “Well, if you came in as sheriff after him, you would have found the file he hid, and that would have made you curious about your parents’ deaths, and you would link the two and get him thrown behind bars for a very long time,” Shakota told him. She was, of course, completely right about that, but it still didn’t make all that much sense. It seemed like he missed the point, and whether it was because he was just too close to the screen to see the full picture or because he was too tense to use any muscles above the neck, such as his brain, didn’t matter. He couldn’t see himself as a threat to Hoyt, no matter what. Obviously, no one had been around to connect the events, and Garrett wouldn’t have bothered to dig that deep.

  Then again, maybe the idea had been to turn Leland against Garrett. It looked like Leland had found the old file and may have been suspicious, and Hoyt wanted to make a quick getaway while also assuring that Leland and Garrett didn’t team up against him and discover the truth.

  “Let’s get out of here,” he said, still lost in thought. “We’re bringing these with us. I want you to get the name of the guy who went to prison for the guns and see if you can figure out where he’s from and how he and Hoyt know each other.”

  She swept up the files and papers and followed him out of the station. As Garrett got behind the wheel and slammed the door, she told him, “I need your phone. Mine’s ready with GPS.”

  He handed it to her, and as he pulled out of the parking place, she was already running searches. Getting out of town was maddeningly slow; the speed limit was twenty-five for a mile each way out of the main strip, and knowing Leland would be on the road at any moment, he didn’t dare speed. It would be just his luck to get pulled over and have Leland pull some stunt that landed him in the clink.

  Finally able to speed up a little as he neared the highway, Garrett felt some relief, but his rage was still so strong he wanted to put a fist through his windshield or a wall somewhere. “So, the guy they took down for the black market weapons sales is Travis Baker, who was thirty-four at the time and had several misdemeanor charges for illegal carrying, petty theft, drug possession, and the like. Most of it was in a neighboring county, but he had a charge here that he got parole for and it was transferred to the other county.” Garrett struggled to listen to what Shakota told him, and he slowly caught up as she paused, apparently running another search of some kind.

  Eventually, she continued, “The official ruling gave him twenty-four years, with eligibility for parole in eight years. From what I see here, it looks like he wasn’t very well behaved and got a couple extensions to his sentence for fighting. He was released two years ago with seven years of parole ahead of him. He had his parole transferred again, and you’ll never guess where.”

  Garrett snorted. “Don’t tell me he’s in Thermopolis.”

  “Bingo. I mean, he’s confined to Hot Springs County, but when you look that up, Thermopolis is the county seat and the largest town in the county. It’s all a very similar setup to Courage.”

  Garrett nodded, suddenly eager to get to their destination. “I have a feeling we can get that store clerk to identify this Baker guy, so he’ll go away on parole violation, if nothing else.”

  Shakota nodded and sat up straighter, still messing with his phone. “Most definitely. And I have an address right here for Travis Baker.” She clicked something, then turned off the phone screen and twisted in her seat to look at him. “I won’t guarantee we’re going to catch them at the shallow end of the pond like that, but if we get to Baker’s place, I can track them from there.”

  Though he didn’t know how she could do that, Garrett believed her when she said it. “I’m counting on it, then.”

  Chapter 17

  Feeling confident and anxious to bring this to an end, Shakota nearly bounced in her seat as they passed a sign telling them Thermopolis was a mere twelve miles away. The banter they’d shared on the drive had been lighthearted for the most part, and despite their lack of sleep, she was in a good mood, and Garrett seemed to have let go of some of his anger.

  Of course, she knew it would come back to the surface when he faced the man who’d tried to ruin his life. But she would be there to help calm him and keep him from doing anything stupid.

  They’d also had some serious conversation, talking back and forth about experiencing loss and losing hope. She finally understood why he felt so betrayed by his older brother. Alex had agreed to be Garrett’s legal guardian, and yet, he’d hardly spoken to Garrett for the better part of the next two years, all the while going out with friends and partying it up on the weekends. Then, about the time he’d started to build a real relationship with Garrett--they spent a year building the cabin and the ranch together and sold their parents’ old house--Alex had taken half the money from the sale and run off to Oregon. It was like he couldn’t stand to be around Garrett, and they’d hardly spoken since.

  She broke down and told him about how her brother and sister betrayed her, and she shared the fear of losing the feel of her father’s spirit if she followed her heart and left the reservation. She’d never told anyone about that, not even her mother, and it felt good to share, especially with someone who seemed to understand the spirit bond.

  Garrett had been solemn in his response. “No one can tell you what to do except you, Shakota. But I will say that, with the way you talk about the spirit, if your father’s spirit is determined to look out for you, I think he’d follow you to wher
e you belong. He wouldn’t want to hold you in a place your spirit didn’t want to be.”

  It had given her new perspective, and though it left her more uncertain about where she belonged, at least she thought she had a choice now. It was almost overwhelming to find that freedom.

  “Are you ready for this?” Garrett asked as the speed limit slowed, the highway reaching the outskirts of vague civilization. It drew her out of her thoughts, which was probably a good thing, since she needed to focus now.

  Nodding vigorously, she told him, “Let’s end this, Garrett. You should never have had to worry about any of this, and you have more important things to do with your time than hunt down someone who pretends to uphold the law while breaking it and betraying the people who believe in him most.” She didn’t come out and say it, but she wanted them both to spend some quality time together that didn’t involve desperation. To this point, they’d been desperate for each other and desperate to clear Garrett. It would be nice—and necessary—to have a few days to themselves to explore each other more intimately in all aspects, not just physically.

  The “Entering Thermopolis” sign came into view, and Shakota’s heart pounded. The GPS, which she’d reset for Travis Baker’s address, said they were only 1.7 miles away, and she glanced at Garrett, whose jaw was clenched hard enough for the muscle that twitched when he was upset to be jumping madly. His eyes darkened with his focus, and she knew it was going to be a task to hold him back from strangling both men with his bare hands.

  He shook his head. “There’s a shotgun in the back of the Bronco, but I’m not taking it in. It’s for emergency use only.” His eyes shifted sideways to look at her briefly. “Do you not trust me?”

  She smirked. “Honestly, if I were in your position, I wouldn’t trust me. I just know how irrational I’d be facing a man who pretended to be like a father and then turned around and betrayed me not once but twice.” Shakota completely considered providing a gun to a man who killed Garrett’s parents a betrayal, probably one even larger than framing him for murder. She understood that the man was practically worshiped by the entire county. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have lasted as sheriff for thirty years. But that didn’t excuse him from his actions. He was a dirtbag who should spend the rest of his life behind bars.

  Thermopolis certainly was a small town, and it practically echoed Courage, though it was probably twice the size and twice the population. Shakota noticed instantly how rural it was. And as they turned right, per the GPS, onto a blacktop road, she saw scattered farmhouses and, in the distance, a small apartment complex on one side of the road with a trailer park on the other.

  She glanced down at the map on the phone and scowled. It looked like Travis Baker lived in one of the trailers. She would have preferred a farmhouse or even one of the apartments. This particular park looked a little shady, and the trailers were far too close together. If Baker or Sheriff Brooks had a gun and pulled it, there was a strong possibility of someone innocent being hurt. “Hey, Garrett, I think we need to be really careful and not confrontational.”

  He nodded, his eyes on the road. “I was just thinking that. Let’s figure out which trailer it is and park out of view. We’ll circle back, find out how many ways out there are, and try to cover them.”

  Shakota felt better with that plan in place, but she still wasn’t comfortable. “Chances are Baker will answer or that no one will be home. I think I should knock and make up some story about why I’m there. You find any other entrance or way to see inside and try to pinpoint if your sheriff is there.”

  “I don’t like it,” he replied instantly. “It puts you in too much danger. What if one or both of them have a weapon?”

  She shrugged. “Neither one of them is going to recognize me. They have no reason to suspect anything of me. And I’m a woman. If they want to attack, they won’t feel the need to use weapons.” She beamed. “I’ve taken down fully trained warriors with my bare hands. I have a few tricks up my sleeve. Besides, there’s no insulation in these places. You’ll hear if anything goes down.” Mainly, she wanted to keep the entire process as quiet as possible, and she wanted to hold Garrett back from entering until she was certain she had control of the situation. It would go a long way in keeping everyone calm.

  She could tell Garrett still wasn’t pleased, but he grudgingly nodded. “Open the glove box.” Shakota frowned at him but did as he said. Instantly, she saw why. “Take that with you, just in case.”

  She pulled out the Bowie knife, carefully removing the sheath and inspecting the deadly sharp blade. The hilt was a bit large for her hand, but she’d handled enough different blades in her time to be able to wield it if needed. She held it up to him with a determined look. “I’ll shove it in my boot, but I don’t intend to use it. Am I clear on that?”

  He smiled ruefully. “Crystal.”

  The last half mile took forever, and her anxiety hit a high note as they turned into the trailer park. She shoved it down, counting on her training and determination to get them through this. They found the trailer, which was really just a camper with peeling paint and decals sitting unevenly on the lot, and Garrett drove down another six lots to a guest parking area, where he pulled in and shut off the engine. “Are you ready?” he asked, and Shakota finally saw the cop training in him. He was almost frightening--emotionless and obviously driven.

  She nodded. “Let’s take care of business.” He got out and opened the back door, and Shakota almost protested, thinking he was going for the shotgun. Instead, he pulled out two pairs of handcuffs, and she smiled. “Good thinking.”

  He grunted. “I don’t want either one of them causing any problems on the drive home. I’m locking them down.”

  Shakota wanted to suggest they call local police to escort them back, but she thought it might be a better idea to wait till they had both men in cuffs to take away that thought of being in complete control. She led the way around the backside of the row of trailers, stopping behind the neighbors and glancing around from a position pressed up against the trailer to assure the coast was clear.

  With a quick nod and wave to Garrett to follow her, she darted to the back of the camper, finding a double door opening off the back in addition to the small single door on the right side she’d already noted. She inspected the left side and found nothing except a window. While that could pose a problem, Garrett should be able to take up a position where he could watch both the back door and the window.

  He motioned to both with a nod and stepped back, leaving her confident he had them covered. She circled back around the neighbor to approach the door from the front, in case they were on the lookout for any reason, and taking a deep breath, she knocked.

  She heard some shuffling and braced to look into the eyes of a man who sold illegal weapons, knowing very well he probably kept a stash on hand. But as the door creaked open, she cursed silently, finding only a shriveled older woman with no teeth and tufts of white hair sticking up in at least twelve different directions. She gave a gummy smile, her muumuu hanging loosely over her gaunt body, and said, “Hello, my dear. Can I help you?”

  Her voice was gravelly, a telltale sign she’d been a long-time smoker, and from the odor coming out of the open camper, she still was. Shakota put on her best smile and manners. “Hello, ma’am. I was looking for Travis Baker. Is he here?”

  The woman chuckled, but it faded into a rattling cough. She probably had emphysema. “No, but he should be back any minute. I’m Louise. I’m his mother. He just ran to the store to buy a few things. Would you like to come in and wait?”

  Shakota debated, but the invitation would put her in a prime position. She could see if Brooks was already there, and she could surprise Baker when he returned, with Garrett coming in behind him to make sure he was trapped. “I’d love to,” she answered.

  “I’m sorry about the mess,” Louise told her as she ascended the steps into the cramped space. “We’ve had company for a few days, and it’s a small space.”

>   Small didn’t begin to cover it. The single twin bed was behind the door, which crashed into it when open, and there was only a curtain separating it from the rest of the camper. The kitchen had a single gas-powered burner next to a half-sized sink, with a small bench across from it that left about a two-foot-wide walking space and was made up as a bed. The enclosure she assumed was the bathroom with a toilet and shower couldn’t have left room for anyone to stand inside, and in what should have been the storage space for luggage and fishing or hunting gear contained a tall metal cabinet with a single door and a pile of bedding.

  She had no doubt left in her mind that Hoyt Brooks was staying here. “It’s all right, Ms. Baker. I’ll just have a seat here.” She perched on the edge of the bench-bed, and the old woman sidled past her, settling herself in the space left on the bench and leaning back with a huff.

  “You know, I’m glad to have my Travis back. He was gone for so long I thought I might never see him again. But he takes good care of me, and his trips only last a few days at most now. I’m not in the best of health, and he doesn’t want to stay away too long in case something bad happens to me,” Louise told her.

  Shakota smiled at her sympathetically. “I understand. I worry about my mother, too. I live very close to her, and I see her almost every day, unless I’m traveling like I am now.”

  “You must be a good girl, and your mother must be proud of you.”

  The door rattled, and Shakota froze, resting her hand on her leg so that, if she did need the knife for any reason, she was poised and ready to draw it. The door creaked open, and with heavy footfalls, a short, chubby man with a salt and pepper beard in need of a trim and receding hairline stepped up, wearing a plain white t-shirt and generic jeans with a pair of steel-toed boots. He carried a small bag, presumably the things he’d purchased, and he set it in the sink, not even looking in Shakota’s direction.

  When he looked up and saw her, he frowned, and the door bumped his arm. He jerked it away. “Watch it!” he snapped, and strode past both Shakota and Louise, stopping to kiss the latter on the cheek. Yes, this was definitely Travis Baker, though he’d aged roughly since his mug shot.