At Long Last; Book 4 of the Long Ranch Series

by Michel Prince

  “Hey Miles,” Sheriff Rust greeted as he approached. “Any chance I could talk you into dropping that weapon?”

  “Probably,” Miles said. “You wanna tell me where Andy is at this fine mornin’?” Bertrum Rust had been a friend of their family since they were in grade school. Didn’t matter right now. His family had been promised protection.

  “I was hopin’ you knew that. Found his squad car a few miles down the road. Didn’t look like he drove it into the ditch.”

  “How’s that?”

  “The seat was set for a much smaller driver.”

  Stupidly, Miles used his gun to point in a few directions then realized his mistake as the officers behind Sheriff Rust all drew their weapons. Holstering his back up weapon at his hip, he held his hands up in mock surrender. “I’d check the fields around here, but we got a few problems here.”

  “Only a few,” Rust quipped and turned to his deputies to have them lower their weapons.

  “Handful at most.” Miles let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “Sunny thinks there’s a body on the road by his house.”

  “That’s one.”

  “There is a body under Clevon’s truck.”

  “Any chance that ambulance might want to look at it?”

  Miles turned back to the scene and shook his head.

  “Alright, I’m gonna ask your Uncle to not move his truck.”

  “About that, we have to be in Las Cruces by nine or our bail could be revoked. More importantly, our ranch would be in trouble.”

  “How about you use someone else’s truck?”

  “That’s the problem. All our tires are slashed. Right now, Clay and Sunny are barricaded at their house—”

  “And Monty’s got Harper and your mother right?”

  “Yep.” Miles nodded. “At any moment, Tina is going to come back to the world.”

  “Right, well let’s hope that these guys took their crisis training classes serious.” Sheriff Rust turned around and went to talk to his deputies.

  Miles returned to his family. “They’re coming on the land. They need to find Andy,” he explained. “And Unc, they don’t want you to move your truck.”

  His uncle looked down at the man under his wheels. “I don’t believe he’s dead,” he stated plainly. “He is, but these monsters—I can’t—this is my home. My mama raised me there. I raised my children in there. My grandbabies…” Wiping at tears, his Uncle had probably never shed in his life, he pointed to Walt’s home. “This can’t be right. We shouldn’t have to live like this.”

  “They’re going for the property,” Miles said. “We don’t get to that judge in time, our bail is revoked and they take the land. The land we’ve already started building a solar farm on.”

  “We took out a half a billion dollar loan on those.”

  “And the land would be theirs. We need to get to the courthouse.”

  “MeMaw’s is the only vehicle we have left.” He looked at his watch only to notice it wasn’t there.

  They were all standing in pajamas and cowboy boots.

  “It’s quarter to eight,” Rust called. “You don’t have to be pretty you just have to be there. My deputies will take care of your family. Get in. I’ve called in state patrol to help settle it all down here. The Longs built Tender Root, no way in hell Tender Root isn’t going to protect you and yours.”

  * * * *

  Jason Whitmore sat at the defendants table with his phone glued to his ear when Ashleigh tapped his shoulder. “Are they all right?”

  “Who?” he asked as he put his phone down.

  “Where are your clients?”

  “Um, I’m sorry which side are you on again?”

  “Yours now. I turned in my two week’s notice.”

  “That doesn’t mean you’re on my side.” He waved his hand toward the prosecution table where Hamilton was lining up his legal pad and pens as if he had some severe form of OCD. “Scoot paraslave.”

  “Look, I just saw…” Ashleigh turned back to see Mr. Truman who stood with his arms crossed at the back of the courtroom by the door. In the far corner, Sam Trunket sat with a satisfied grin on his face as he checked his watch. Ashleigh looked at the clock in the courtroom and knew the judge would be out in few minutes. “Have you heard from them today?”

  “What did you see?”

  “I knew it,” Hamilton let out howl. “You have been sharing strategies with him. Well, let me tell you something Jason, she’s useless to you whatever she told you, I’ve already changed.”

  “Congratulations,” Jason said with droll enthusiasm. “Any chance you want to try to decipher what the moron is trying to say?”

  Ashleigh tried to not laugh, but her nerves were shot. Something wasn’t right. She could tell her universe was off in some sense. It being three minutes to nine without a Long in sight wasn’t helping her calm down. “Moron’s mad because I turned in my resignation and said I couldn’t be his paralegal for this case.”

  “Should I know the reason?”

  “I’m in love with one of the defendants.”

  “Is love really a conflict?” he asked with a laugh. “Doesn’t matter, it makes my case better. The brain was just removed from the prosecution. Now what can you tell me without going into privileged info?”

  “A person that I happen to know works for Federated Gas in some way was in our office this morning asking about helping the Longs out and buying their land.”

  “All rise,” the bailiff called and Jason turned his focus from her to stand up, buttoning his jacket as he stood. “The Court of the fifth district of New Mexico is now in session, the Honorable Judge Carlos Padilla presiding.”

  Ashleigh’s stomach dropped, as she feared what would be next. Miles and his family weren’t here. Not one. Jason’s phone was sitting stagnant on his desk not vibrating from a frantic call from any member of the family. With her phone in hand, she started to text Harper and Miles—anyone that could tell her what was going on.

  “Good morning councilors,” Judge Padilla said as he sat and banged his gavel three times to have court come to session. “May I ask Mr. Whitmore where is clients might be at this time?”

  “I was working with Ms. Wood to get that all sorted out. It appears something has happened to them.”

  “Ms. Wood, would you mind explaining where the defendants might be?” Judge Padilla asked. “Because anywhere but here is in direct violation of their bail and a warrant will be issued.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” Ashleigh assured him.

  “I have a jury sequestered, at some point they need to come out.”

  “I understand your honor.”

  “This is outrageous, this woman up until an hour ago worked for my office,” Hamilton bemoaned. “Now, she’s sitting next to the defense council. I have no idea what privileged information she may have passed on to the defense. At this time—”

  “I’m going to stop you right there councilor. Denied.”

  “But I didn’t—”

  “Ask for a continuance. I understand this is your first real trial, but we all have to pop our cherry at some point. The court has no time or patience for your review of Ms. Wood’s improprieties and since I’ve had Mr. Whitmore in my courtroom more than once, I can honestly say he already knows your plan.”

  Jason dropped his head to hide his laugh.

  “Now, Mr. Whitmore where are your clients?”

  The pain from a lump burning in Ashleigh’s throat might as well been molten glass. She’d just walked away from her job for Miles. Her life was going to be turned on its ear and she would be starting over from the bottom. Knitting her fingers together, she wished she could squelch the dread that this was more than just a little traffic delay. Deep in her soul, she knew something bad had happened.

  “At this time we are currently unable to locate them.”

  “Then I have no choice then to revoke bail and—”

  With a gust of air from the door, Miles, He
nry and Clevon rushed through the door with Sheriff Rust hot on their trail. The three Longs went to the defendant’s table and stood next to Jason.

  “Well, officer you’ve got the fastest response time ever,” Judge Padilla said with his gavel still at the ready. “Seeing as I hadn’t finished my order. Gentlemen, this is not California and you are not the King of Pop. Can you please explain why you’ve disrespected my courtroom by not being properly attired?”

  Henry and Clevon were both in pajamas with a button down top and cowboy boots. Miles had a pair of lounge pajama bottoms and a t-shirt which must’ve been from high school as it clung to his hard muscles. It was tattered around the seams and said Tender Root Scorpions. He too, had cowboy boots.

  Ashleigh saw the bulge from their ankle bracelets, proving he was right when he said they don’t fit with ankle bracelets well.

  “Your Honor, may I approach?” Sheriff Rust asked as all six-foot-three of himself stood in the gallery.

  “Will you be answering my questions this morning?” the judge asked.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Well then, by all means, let us delay further and hear from officer…”

  “Sheriff Rust out of Tender Root.”

  “My apologies, Sheriff, will this be on the record?”

  Sheriff Rust turned his head to look at Hamilton then to Jason and the Longs. “I’m not sure if it should be, but hey, what the heck?”

  “Alright, should the jury hear this?”

  “I believe that would be your choice, I don’t mind repeating my answers.”

  “Okay, can you tell me why these men are dressed this way?”

  “I believe it’s how they sleep.”

  “Did the alarms go off late this morning?”

  “I have no idea your honor,” Sheriff Rust replied. “They weren’t woken by an alarm that I know of.”

  “You were there?”

  “No sir, but I wish I would have been. See these men live on a large acreage—”

  “Excuse me,” Sam interjected as he stood. “Has their bail been revoked?”

  “I’m sorry, is there a sign on the door that says this is a free for all court?” the judge asked as he stared at Sam Trunket who had moved closer to the door as if he intended to run. “Let me guess, you’re the bondsman for these three?”

  “No sir, I just—I’m an interested party.”

  “Every person in this courtroom is interested with the exception of Bailiff McMurphy who could care less what happens as long as it’s in order. See how the vein is starting to pop a little on his forehead. I think that one has your name on it.”

  The bailiff stood still with amusement on his face. Even if Sam wanted to run, Mr. Truman now stood in front of the doors. The whole room stared at Sam who lost the slick charisma he usually had.

  “Cat got your tongue?” Judge Padilla asked.

  “I’m sorry I needed to know if I had to follow up with the bailsmen for these men.”

  “Not yet, now may the Sheriff continue?”

  “Yes, your honor, I apologize.” Sam tried to leave but the new DA, Mr. Truman stood with his arms crossed and he got the message he needed to take a seat.

  “Your little brother?” Judge Padilla asked Bailiff McMurphy as he pointed to Mr. Truman.

  “No your honor.” His voice sounded deeper than Ashleigh had expected as he explained. “I believe that is the new District Attorney.”

  “Oh, yes I did get that memo. Alright, Sheriff Rust, let’s continue.”

  “Yes sir,” he said as he settled himself. “Right, they live on a large acreage that was attacked this morning. I would have called to advise the court I was escorting the defendants, but I had to stay in contact with my officers who are securing the scene along with the State Patrol.”

  “Attacked?”

  “Windows shot out, tires cut on all their vehicles, hence my escorting duties. As far as their outfits, they had been woken from sleep. Although, they were able to communicate with each other through radios, Henry and Miles had to run over a mile to get to the front main house and gate.”

  A chill ran down Ashleigh’s spine as she gripped the wooden half wall separating the gallery from the court. Bad…yeah, something bad had happened. She cut her eyes at Sam whose lips were pursed as he kept turning to see Mr. Truman hadn’t moved. Until that moment, she hadn’t noticed that her new DA was quite a formidable man when he wanted to be. Barely six foot, with broad shoulders and a thick neck, that unlike his predecessor wasn’t from a third donut in the morning. When she returned her focus to the court, Miles had his head held high and a little twitch in his jaw. A ferociousness rolled off him she wouldn’t have ever imagined from the man who’d sung softly in her ear. The song now hit her. They may not have a tomorrow. He could have been killed this morning. Tears pinpricked her eyes and her stomach clenched.

  “And Clevon?”

  “He was woken by the radio calls for distress and drove over to protect his grandchildren, son and his wife that were under attack. I believe he really didn’t care what he wore to save their lives.”

  “Were there any casualties?”

  “Two that we know of,” Sheriff Rust said then turned to look at Sam before continuing, “We are still workin’ on identifying the assailants.”

  “So the Longs were not the ones injured.”

  “Killed, your honor. Two men were killed while they were shooting at the family.”

  “Guess this family doesn’t miss.”

  “Rarely, although I do wonder if those who go after them were once Storm Troopers.”

  The judge let out a small laugh at that.

  “We still haven’t found my deputy who had been watching the ranch.”

  Sobering, Judge Padilla lowered his head. “Why did you have deputy watching their ranch?”

  “This isn’t the first time the ranch had been attacked. Probably won’t be the last. All I know is the Longs are being attacked for doing the right thing. They are the foundation for Tender Root and when they had to let their hands go because of what was done to their land, they worked until they could find a way to hire them back. Your honor, I know the state has its case, but it’s bull—this family did nothing more than defend themselves. Last time I checked, that wasn’t against the law. Just like this morning. I ain’t arresting anyone at the Long Ranch and that’s sad because I sure as hell would like to know the cowards that did this. These men should be comforting their women and cleaning up the mess…” Sheriff Rust shook his head. “Their first thought was that they have to get to court so they don’t lose their ranch. We all know who ordered this. We can sit here and not say the name to avoid defamation charges, but what they have done to this family and their land should be a hanging charge.”

  Judge Padilla sat forward and pushed up his black robes to rest his arms on his desk. “The prosecution has the right to present their case.” Turning his eyes to Hamilton, with the stern face of a few decades of legal practice, he seemed to be trying to hold back his annoyance. Sheriff Rust’s opinions were his and not from the media blitz Jason had made sure to hit at just the right times. “Mr. Boyle, I will ask do you have a solid case?”

  “Yes, your honor.”

  “I’d hate to make these men have to pay for a defense lawyer to sit in the courtroom, only to have me throw it out before he even gets to speak.”

  Hamilton rocked from one foot to the other. “I wouldn’t bring a case I couldn’t prove. The District Attorney’s office has more important things to deal with than a case we can’t win.”

  “And you,” Judge Padilla called to the back of the courtroom. “Why were you so interested in the Long’s bail status? Is there something else I should know?”

  “No sir, I’m interested in the law and how it works.”

  “Lying to a judge makes us a bit trigger happy ourselves. Who are you and who do you work for?”

  “I don’t see how—”

  “Sam Trunket,” Mr. Truman interjected. �
��And although he said he worked for a different company, I’ve recently learned he works for a subsidiary of Federated Gas.”

  “Thank you District Attorney Truman,” the judge said. “So this man lied to you recently?”

  “About an hour ago, your honor. He presented himself as someone who was interested in the well being of the Longs, he offered to help pay for their defense fund.”

  “Well, if that’s the case Mr. Trunket, I see no reason to not bring the jury in to join us and start this little party. I am going to instruct the jury to take into consideration what happened at the Long Ranch this morning as to why the defendants are dressed the way they are.”

  “Objection,” Hamilton called.

  Ashleigh dropped her head into her hands. He must have reopened his law dictionary.

  “That would prejudice the jury.”

  “And their attire wouldn’t? Either I instruct the jury or we reconvene this afternoon. You did want a continuance.”

  Hamilton fumbled and fussed, even glancing at Mr. Truman as if he were going to save him. “This afternoon would be fine. The last thing these three men should be considered as is being victims themselves. They are far from that and in my opening, I hope to prove my point.”

  “Very well, Bailiff McMurphy please advise the jury they will be held until after lunch. Also, detain Mr. Trunket for questioning by Sheriff Rust. I believe he might have a few questions for him concerning matters in his jurisdiction.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Miles let out a breath as the judge’s gavel dropped. Once the judge had left the room, he turned around and pulled Ashleigh into his arms. Even with the divider at their waists, he had found a connection he never wanted to break.

  “I knew something was wrong,” she cried and he felt the wetness of her cheeks against his neck. “When Sam casually said something about a bad morning, I knew. I just knew.”

  “It’s all good now Ash. We’re all shaken, but safe.” He released her and wiped the tears that were streaking down her cheeks. “The babies are good. MeMaw’s only fussing because she couldn’t shoot someone. She said, I wish a man would come and shoot at my windows. It took Uncle Clevon longer to get her to sit than it did to get to Walt’s place.”