At Long Last; Book 4 of the Long Ranch Series

by Michel Prince

  She’d been a part of a few capital crime cases in the past. Harper wasn’t one to shy away from a challenge, but Hamilton’s requests were a few short of what was necessary.

  His pace quickened as he marched with determination to the courthouse. “And don’t cut corners. I’m going to prosecute this guy to the maximum allowable by state law. I’m not letting the office take on any more scandal.”

  Ashleigh cut her eyes at Hamilton who actually appeared focused as he stalked up the street. This was Harper’s brother-in-law he was talking about and possibly a killer. The officer blocking the street wasn’t too impressed by Hamilton. Not that Ashleigh was surprised. Mr. Connelly and Harper had a confidence that could probably get them past the Secret Service if they wanted to talk to the President. Hamilton was…well, Hamilton.

  “You think we haven’t been called?” Ashleigh spat as she pushed past the officer and gave Hamilton’s suit coat a tug. “Jesus Christ, half the city is in lockdown and they have the guys in custody. You know Mayor Quintana is the swift justice mayor.”

  The officer watched without protesting as they made their way through the emergency workers and into the courthouse. To the left was the county jail and Harper stood outside the double doors that led inside. She looked beautiful if not frazzled. A body hugging pale pink dress went to the floor. Since her back was to Ashleigh, she saw it was open and cut all the way down with a beautiful U shape exposing her light caramel colored skin.

  “Harp,” Ashleigh called and her friend spun around. Maybe she wasn’t as frazzled as Ash first thought. Although, her naturally tight curled hair was down, there were small diamond accents tucked away catching what little light was in the hallway.

  “Thank God, you’re here,” she said as she approached them. “Hamilton—”

  “Don’t start. I’m going to prosecute him to the highest level allowable. We can’t allow people like that to roam the streets.”

  “What did he do?” Harper challenged.

  Her question set Hamilton back a step.

  She nodded her head at him. “Exactly. Find out what is going on, then become the harbinger of justice.”

  “You can’t be involved.” Hamilton stuck out his chest like a cartoon superhero.

  “Let me know when we can bail them out,” Harper said, then gave Ashleigh’s arm a little squeeze.

  “See what happens when you don’t have me as your maid of honor?”

  “What was I thinking?” she replied with a half smirk.

  Ashleigh could see the tears pooling in Harper’s eyes. “You were thinking the last wedding was picture perfect and the marriage sucked. So, you flipped it.”

  Harper pulled Ashleigh into a strong hug that had the short paralegal buried in her chest. “Ash, I need him out. I’ve got all the documentation showing the conspiracy to take land at the ranch. After work, I need you to come by.”

  “I can’t today,” she said though she wasn’t sure Harper could hear her muffled voice.

  Harper released her.

  Ashleigh held her hand up to say she needed to catch her breath. Her sister, Sierra, had to know in advance if Ashleigh was going out of town. As much as Ashleigh seemed to be a carefree single girl with nothing to tie her down, her sister was the unseen force in her life.

  “Do you think Hamilton’s going to ask for remand?”

  “Probably.” Ashleigh looked over her shoulder and made sure Hamilton had found his way inside the booking area. “The only way I could get Hamilton to not be a douche was to drop the hint we need a new DA.”

  “Hamilton?” Harper balked, then sobered. “Oh shit, it probably would be him? I’m the next in line, but having brought the charges on Art, it would be seen as a coup.”

  “Think of me. Hamilton couldn’t pour piss out of a boot if the instructions were on the heel and he wants me to help him.”

  “But he’s easy to manipulate, right?”

  “Play Doh is harder to mold.”

  “Get them out on bail. Please?” Harper begged as they held hands. “You always help a girl in need and well…it’s my wedding night.”

  The pain on Harper’s face made Ashleigh’s stomach tighten and she knew the best she could do was pretend to be lighthearted. No matter what Hamilton tried, Ashleigh’s loyalties were to Harper. “Please bitch, you’re already pregnant, don’t play the I ain’t got some line. I’m the one with bats in the belfry.”

  Chapter Two

  “I’m calling off Melody’s wedding,” Henry, Miles’ father announced as they sat in the holding cell waiting to be formally charged.

  “I think mama and MeMaw will have a few issues with that choice. Mel might too,” Miles retorted.

  “How is Sunshine not in here with us right now?” his father reasoned. “If your uncle and I could move fast enough that young rodeo clown should have.”

  “From what I saw, he was protecting Mel and MeMaw,” Miles replied.

  “MeMaw got shot. Now, if Sunny would have taken a bullet for her, maybe I could understand him not catchin’ up to us. Monty had his new bride and baby to worry about, but Sunny should have been there.”

  “Awe, let up on the boy,” Uncle Clevon grumbled from the bench across from them. His salted hair exposed since their hats had all been taken before they were tossed in the cell. A few years older than Henry, Clevon showed it with his weathered skin and wrinkles around his eyes. The age came more from his wife’s passing from cancer than hard living. “Sunny ain’t done nothin’ but love your daughter. Shit, the boy is building her a house by hand.”

  “Cuz he can’t afford more. It’s going up piece by piece, like the damn Jamaicans do it. Who knows when he’ll have enough money to finish it?”

  “At least, he’s moving out, instead of trying to kick you out.” Uncle Clevon sighed. “Damn Walter thinks he owns my house. Shifting people here and there. Popping out kids and demanding another room.” He dusted off his smooth black jeans, formal wear and all. “Your kids are runnin’ for the hills. Bet you money, Monty’s gonna be building something, somewhere on the edge of the property. We’re gonna look like a damn commune soon. JT is my only boy who isn’t still sucking on the teat of the Long Ranch.”

  “You want us all gone?” Miles asked thinking they’d all been raised so they would never leave.

  “It’s not like when it was just Henry and I. Last thing we thought about when we started spittin’ out kids was the logistics of the whole thing. Shit, there ain’t never been more than two heirs to the Long Ranch when it came down to it. Guess you being locked up is a good thing. Hell, we got more kids than stock now.”

  “Tina heard back from Desert Electric Cooperative,” Miles said.

  “DEC? Have they been in business for more than five minutes?” Henry scoffed.

  The whole turn the ranch into a solar farm was going over great with these two. Not that Miles could blame them. He’d been raised a cowboy for almost thirty-four years, he could only imagine how shocking the switch was for the men with almost six decades of ranching. “We’ll bring the experience then,” Miles mediated.

  “Of what? Basking in the sun and working on my tan?” Clevon mocked and elbowed his brother.

  The two mahogany skinned men roared with laughter.

  “Killing two men sure puts you guys in good spirits,” a jailer said as he unsheathed a pair of handcuffs. “Miles Long.”

  Miles stood and came to the bars. There was a rectangular opening and the jailer held the handcuffs open on the other side like Miles did this so often, he knew he should put his arms through. Complying, the jailer locked his wrists together. Cold steel shocked his skin before pinching it. When he slid the bars open, Miles stepped out. He felt like he was abandoning his family, even though there was only two other men waiting in the cell and they didn’t look very intimidating, still they shouldn’t be in there alone.

  “Come on.” The jailer tugged him down the hallway where he was escorted into an interrogation room straight out of a co
p drama. Two way mirror, single table with a chair on either side made of airplane grade aluminum. A camera in the corner with a bright red light hummed… or maybe it was the florescent light in the ceiling. Either way, they could be on a Hollywood set.

  Miles assumed this would be the sweat it out part as the clock on the wall ticked loudly. Depravation tactics. How soon before he was counting each tick as if it were his own heart. Tell-Tale Heart maybe…would he go crazy like Poe? He didn’t know if his bullet was the fatal one or the ones his other family members shot, since two men were dead, but he did know there was no way they knew this soon.

  Tick, tick, tick… screech.

  The door opened and two men walked in.

  The first was straight from central casting. City detective, Hispanic since they were in New Mexico, wearing an outdated print tie and button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The tat on his inner forearm told that this side of the law hadn’t been his first path. Easily in his fifties, he had a few streaks of gray through his jet black hair. The other man was harder to place. He too, had darker hair, but it was slicked back and he wasn’t as at ease in the room as the detective.

  “I’m Detective Eilal Najera.” The Hispanic detective sat across from Miles. “This is ADA Hamilton Boyle. Now, the arresting officers said you confessed to killing both men.”

  Miles stared at the detective then looked over to the prosecutor.

  “We just need you to sign your confession.”

  “That it? Then I go to jail for what, ten years?” Miles asked tamping down his nerves as he played a chess match he wasn’t ready for.

  “Not quite,” the ADA said. “This is a capital offense.”

  The door swung open again, as another suited and booted man came in.

  The ADA tried to stay strong, but Miles could read his nerves across the room.

  “Talking to a Mirandized suspect without his attorney,” the man stated.

  Detective Najera shifted in his seat.

  “Wait… you did Mirandize him right?”

  “We were getting there,” Detective Najera said. “It’s a bit crazy out there.”

  “I know the DA’s office is in a bit of turmoil right now Hamilton, but that’s day one of criminal law. How about you give him the spiel, then step out.” He pointed to the corner. “And let’s go ahead and shut that off too.”

  Miles turned to see a small box with a red light glowing. How had he missed the standard room decorations? Guess he needed to read a few more recent detective novels instead of Holmes. Detective Najera gave Miles his Miranda rights, then exited, but were caught by his attorney. “Oh, Eilal, that confession, you might as well shred that and save the taxpayers my motion to suppress. And don’t forget to stop by the holding cell and repeat yourself to the other Longs in custody.”

  Miles sat silently as the attorney opened his briefcase and settled in with a notepad and pen across from him. “I’m Jason Whitmore, your sister-in-law retained my services for you.” Jason was about Miles’ age with straw colored hair fanned back. Unlike ADA Boyle who might have been creating diamonds in his ass crack, Jason was cool and relaxed in his linen suit. “I’ve known Harper for years, good to see she finally found a man who could keep up with her. Now, why were you being shot at?”

  “You don’t care if I did it or not?”

  “I know you did. Your dumb ass confessed on the courthouse steps. Can’t get rid of that.”

  “But you said—”

  “ADA Boyle is a moron and not one for capital cases, he might actually destroy the confession. This is chess not checkers. I know what I’m doing and who I’m dealing with. If it were Harper out there I’d be groveling for mercy. Instead, we have a man who’s trying to prove something. My only hope is to out think him. Deck’s stacked in my favor at least.”

  “How much has Harper told you?” Miles asked.

  “Very little, but I know about her being run off the road and being intimidated.”

  “Same people, actually it might be one of the men involved.”

  “Yahir Acosta was identified as one of the victims.”

  “How is he a victim when we were being shot at?”

  “Good point and one I’ll raise at trial. Right now, I just need to get you released. Since it’s almost five, you’ll have to spend at least one night in jail. Nothing I can do about that. They’ll take you down after I’m done talking to you, your father and uncle.” He tapped his pen on his notepad. “Tell me all about the wedding.”

  Miles recounted the last few months at the Long Ranch, Harper’s investigation that led to the arrests earlier that day and how they’d been standing on the steps of the courthouse taking pictures when he heard the pops. His stomach clenched as he saw the faces of his family, some recognizing the noise, others stood unsure about what was happening. Monty had asked him to bring his gun. It’s not like his father didn’t keep a piece on him at all times when not on the ranch, so he wouldn’t be alone checking his gun at the front door of the courthouse. He’d barely gotten it tucked away when they left and he heard the first pops.

  Nessa, his baby cousin, was the first face he’d seen. Only four-years-old in her flower girl dress, the white lace spinning as she impatiently waited her turn. Her carob eyes widened and she froze. His cousin, Walt pulled her to the ground and her face blanched then she exploded with tears and screams.

  Then Miles didn’t think at all when he took off after the four-door sedan. He’d seen the flashes from their windows. Adrenaline rushed through his body and he didn’t even feel his legs as he rushed through the city. “I don’t know how far I was from the courthouse when I saw them slow down because a truck had been backing out. I just shot.”

  “And your father, where was he?”

  “He must have been by me because I heard the pops on either side of me. I had tunnel vision.”

  “How good of a shot are you?”

  “I’m not gonna split a fly’s ass hairs from fifty feet, but at twenty five, I might.”

  “How far away was the car?”

  Miles tried to remember, but he couldn’t. The weight of the gun in his hand he registered. The kick from the recoil. His ears rushed as he closed his eyes and tried to go back to that place and time. Tires squealed as they took a corner too quick, followed by a woman’s scream, the sound of the rim hitting the curb and popping off the tire. Air was fresh once he got through the smoke left from the bullets leaving the gun. He had pulled the trigger. His shoulder was still sore from shooting one handed. There was no stopping his motion as he ran toward the vehicle.

  Yahir had stared at him. Shaved head with tattoos covering his neck and crawling up the side of his face until his black eyes went from menacing to closed, his body flew back toward the driver. Was it from the puff of smoke at the end of his revolver? “I don’t know. It happened really fast.”

  “Okay, let me review everything and we’re set to appear before the judge at ten tomorrow morning, until then you’ll be in county custody. I’m going to be talking with the press to make sure they spin it our way.”

  “What’s our way?”

  “You’re a hero. Vigilante justice that only had the attackers as victims.” Jason tossed his pad and files into his briefcase then closed it. “You’re heroes doing what the cops couldn’t. They were a turn away from being on the interstate while the police were still scrambling. You saved an ADA’s life. You and their shooting skills that are one level below a storm trooper, but we’re going with you.”

  “What about my dad and uncle?”

  “Really, it comes down to the ballistics. They’re doing the autopsy right now and we’ll see what they pull out of him.” Jason extended his hand.

  Suddenly, Miles was brought back to his reality quickly as he shook Jason’s hand with two of his because he was still handcuffed. “What are the chances I’ll have to spend the rest of my life in jail?”

  “Not the rest of your life. Manslaughter is the highest charge
I can see them charging you with. With good behavior, you’d be out in five years.”

  Why did that not comfort Miles in the slightest? One night, maybe two sure, but five years? Naw, he couldn’t do that. He’d been defending his family that had to count for something.

  “Timing is everything. The elected DA has been indicted on charges and is out, so he won’t be making any big decisions.”

  Jason left and the cordial jailer returned with a hard tug to Miles’ handcuffs.

  * * * *

  Ashleigh was torn.

  Hamilton stormed in the lieutenant’s office. Furious that his confession would be thrown out. “Get me the case law to keep it in,” he barked at Ashleigh who had to wipe away the spittle that sprinkled her. “Why didn’t your officers Mirandize him the moment he was thrown in cuffs?”

  “Look, it was a crazy scene, their first inclination was to get it under control,” the lieutenant retorted. “The last thing they expected was a confession.”

  “Ashleigh,” Hamilton began.

  Now, she had to give up her loyalty for Harper.

  “No judge is going to throw it out. It was an excited utterance. The police were transporting Miles Long, not interrogating him. Now whatever was said in the room with Detective Najera is another story.”

  “He didn’t say anything in there.”

  “Good,” Ashleigh replied. “Because then, you’d be the reason it wasn’t admitted. You know, since you were in the room.” She hopped off of the lieutenant’s desk and headed for the door. “I’ll see if Jason is done with Miles and give him the bad news. That being said, we’ll need to interview him at some point with Jason and get his side of things.”

  “I know that,” Hamilton griped. “I went to law school, not community college.”

  Ashleigh cut her eyes at him. Had she not just figured out in two seconds that Jason Whitmore was bluffing and that Hamilton was a moron? Law school had only been out of the question because of Sierra and still, she might be able to go now that they have online classes. God knows, she could pass the bar now without question. “I’m going to let you have that one, Hamilton.” She glanced over at the Lieutenant who looked happy to not be on Hamilton’s hit list, although she wondered why. Harper could take him out in two seconds. “Harper will need an update.”