Betrayal at the Buffalo Ranch

by Sara Sue Hoklotubbe

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  “They printed instead of signing their names.”

  “I guess we’re back to plan A, then,” Beanie said. “Only this time,

  we’re looking for signers for the Eugene Hawk Law office. Right?” She

  picked up the phone and dialed.

  Sadie raised her eyebrow. “I don’t want to get Lucy in trouble.”

  “No one has to know,” Beanie said. In a few seconds, she was ex-

  plaining to Lucy what she needed.

  Becky and Sadie listened quietly to the conversation.

  When Beanie hung up, she grinned. “Lucy said Cory will have it for

  you. All you have to do is go to her desk on the second floor and she’ll

  have a copy of the signature card for you in an envelope. Lucy’s got a

  line of customers this afternoon and she didn’t want to fax it because the fax machine keeps everything in memory.”

  Sadie grabbed her purse and ran out the door. When she got to the

  bank, she slid through the door and waited for two men in matching

  khaki pants and navy blazers to exit the elevator before entering and

  riding to the second floor. When the elevator doors opened and her

  sandaled feet sunk into the thick carpet, she felt like she’d landed in

  a completely different place of business. She remembered from her

  earlier days of working at the bank how the trust department catered

  to the money crowd and, in doing so, worked at projecting an image

  of privilege.

  The office looked empty except for Cory and a young college- aged

  receptionist. The receptionist smiled and started to speak, but Cory

  quickly rose and met Sadie.

  “Sadie, it’s so good to see you,” she said.

  Sadie took Cory’s hands in hers. “Cory, how have you been? How’s

  your mother?”

  The receptionist dismissed the two women and went back to stuff-

  ing envelopes.

  “We are all well,” she said. “Thanks for asking, Sadie. Please have a

  seat.” Cory guided Sadie to a chair next to her desk.

  “Where is everybody?” Sadie asked as she scanned the empty office.

  Cory looked at her watch. “Everyone leaves by four o’clock on

  Friday for happy hour at the Party Barn.”

  Sadie grimaced. “Isn’t that bar a little grimy for the three- piece- suit crowd?”

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  “You’d think so.” Cory rolled her eyes. “But, in my opinion, they’re all a little grimy beneath those silk ties. I can’t wait until I can get out of this place and find a real job.”

  “If I can ever help you, please let me know,” Sadie said.

  “Oh, I will. Beanie tells me all the time how great it is to work for

  you. Maybe someday I can sell Hawaiian vacations, too.”

  “Oh, I’d love that,” Sadie said and then raised her voice for the ben-

  efit of the receptionist. “So, do you have any brochures?”

  Cory smiled. “Of course.” She slipped an envelope across the desk

  toward Sadie. “I think you’ll find everything you need here.”

  Sadie took the envelope and slid it into her purse.

  “Is there anything else I can do for you, Sadie?”

  “No. I really appreciate this. Please stop by Playin’ in Paradise

  anytime.”

  “I will. Have a good day.”

  Sadie left the plush trust department behind and didn’t stop until she

  was safely inside the travel office again. She walked to her desk, pulled the envelope from her purse, ripped it open, and stared at it.

  “Bingo,” she said. “I believe we’re on our way to proving who forged

  those documents.”

  “Yay!” Beanie sang.

  Becky smiled and clapped.

  “I’ve got a question, Sadie,” Beanie said. “What if Virginia and the

  others find out you were lying about the trip to Maui?”

  “I didn’t lie,” Sadie said. “Go to the main website and look. They

  always have a sweepstakes going to win a free trip. In fact, it will be your job to get these three ladies signed up.” Sadie handed the legal pad to

  Beanie.

  Beanie laughed. “Wouldn’t it be hysterical if one of them actually

  won a free trip?”

  The three women laughed together.

  “Yes,” Sadie said. “I guess it would.”

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  Chapter 24

  The static on Lance’s radio disturbed his thoughts. He grabbed the trans-

  mitter and interrupted the white noise. “Go ahead,” he said.

  The voice of the dispatcher broke through. “We have a report of a

  man walking around at the sale barn carrying a rifle. No incident yet.”

  “On my way.” Lance made a U-turn in the middle of the highway

  and headed north on Highway 59 toward the Delaware County sale

  barn, which was located halfway between the small towns of Jay and

  Grove. It was the only sale barn in the county and, on sale day, drew

  hundreds of ranchers and farmers wanting to either buy or sell livestock.

  While it wasn’t unusual for country folks in northeastern Oklahoma to

  carry a firearm, brandishing one in a large crowd didn’t seem like a good idea to Lance.

  Lance pulled his truck off the highway and drove through the park-

  ing lot on two sides of the facility before parking near the front door. He got out, looked around, and entered the arena.

  The smell of fresh dirt and manure hung in the air, and the coolness

  of the morning still clung to the inside of the concrete building. The

  sale always started early on Saturday morning so the livestock could be

  loaded and hauled away by early afternoon. By now, at nine thirty, most

  of the good buys had already been paraded through the arena while the

  auctioneer jabbered, trying to run up the price of each one. Lance could

  see young and old men alike anxiously making bids, all trying to appear

  nonchalant. He noticed one old man pull a roll of cash out of his bib

  overalls to make payment on the spot for his final bid for a red mare. No gun- toting going on that Lance could see.

  Lance walked to the cashier’s window, where an older woman

  with carrot- colored hair and unusually long nails flicked bills from one hand to the other before wrapping a rubber band around each stack and

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  dropping it in a drawer. She looked at Lance and smiled big. “May I help you?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I got a call that someone was walking around out here

  with a rifle. Do you know anything about it?”

  “No, but I heard Raymond talking about it.” She picked up another

  handful of bills and pointed with her head at a pudgy white man wear-

  ing a black cowboy shirt and a hat to match, standing near the edge of

  the arena. “Ask him,” she said. “He runs the place.”

  Lance thanked her and headed toward the man she’d indicated. He

  stood by the man for a minute, watching the crowd before he spoke. “Are

  you Raymond?” he asked.

  The auctioneer’s voice boomed throughout the building. “Take a

  look at this nice buckskin gelding. Who’ll start the bidding on this beautiful horse?”

  Raymond nodded, pointed at his ear, and started for the door. Lance

  followed.

  Once outside, Raymond spoke first. “If there’s going to be trouble

  between Roy Carter and Angus Clyborn, I don’t want it going on here

  at the sale barn.”

  “What kind of trouble?”

  “Roy C
arter’s herd has been quarantined. They’ve got Bang’s and

  he’s blaming Angus for bringing it in with his buffalo. Angus likes to

  hang out here on sale day. I don’t know why because he never buys

  anything, but Roy’s been walking around carrying his rifle looking for

  Angus. I’ve never seen Roy so mad. I think he’d shoot anything that got

  in his way.”

  “What’s going to happen to Carter’s cattle?” Lance asked.

  “They’ll be sold for slaughter.”

  “I thought you said they were diseased.”

  “They are, but the meat can be processed because cooking kills the

  bacteria.”

  Lance made a face. “Remind me never to eat another rare steak.”

  He looked away, scrutinizing the area. “He’d shoot a man over losing

  his cattle?”

  “Yes, sir.” Raymond pushed the brim of his hat up about an inch.

  “Roy’s been building up that herd for a few years and they’re damn near

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  like pets to him. The look in his eyes scared me, and quite frankly, I don’t scare that easily.”

  “How exactly does a man’s entire herd come down with Bang’s?”

  Lance asked.

  “It’s spread through the placenta when a cow has a calf. As I under-

  stand it, the other animals either aspirate or ingest it by sniffing at the afterbirth. It can spread through a herd like wildfire.”

  “I know, but aren’t ranchers required to vaccinate their cattle for that

  disease?”

  “Well, they’re supposed to, but it’s the rancher’s choice to vacci-

  nate. We document every animal that comes through this sale barn.”

  Raymond walked over to one of the pens and pointed. “See that black

  cow over there? She’s got an orange metal tag in her left ear. That means she’s been vaccinated for brucellosis. That’s Bang’s disease, you know.”

  Lance nodded. “But you’re saying cattle can come in from out of

  state and might not be vaccinated?”

  “They’re not supposed to, but you know how that goes. You can’t

  catch them all, especially if they truck them in on back roads at night.”

  “So what’s the chance Roy Carter’s right?” Lance asked. “Could

  Angus have brought brucellosis in to his game ranch and it spread from

  there?”

  “Oh, I suppose anything’s possible, but I don’t think so. Angus

  would have had to show proof that his animals had been tested before

  they crossed the state line.”

  Lance continued to scan the area. “Do you have any idea where

  Roy is now?”

  Raymond walked into the parking lot and pointed at the corner of

  the building. “He parked his truck over there, but it’s gone now. I’m hoping he cooled off and left.”

  “Ford Ranger?”

  “Yeah, it’s a white Ford.”

  Lance shook hands with Raymond. “Okay, I’ll take it from here.

  Thanks.”

  Raymond returned to the sale barn, and Lance began to walk the

  perimeter of the parking lot, circling the arena and the livestock pens.

  He asked several ranch hands if they’d seen a man with a rifle. Two

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  nodded and described Roy Carter. The other, a Hispanic man wearing worn leather chaps, shook his head and walked away.

  Lance spent another thirty minutes searching the area, inside and

  out, then got in his truck and headed toward Roy Carter’s ranch, hoping

  to find Roy and calm him down. He knew Roy assumed that brucellosis

  had spread to his ranch from Angus’s Buffalo Ranch, but that didn’t

  give Roy the right to be judge, jury, and executioner of Angus Clyborn.

  Lance thought if he could talk to Roy, explain the situation, it might save him some police work later on.

  He drove across the cattle guard, parked near the Carter house, and

  visually searched the area surrounding the nearby barn. He couldn’t see

  Roy’s truck, which wasn’t a good sign, but decided to see if anyone was

  at home anyway. Before he could exit the vehicle and approach the front

  porch, the door opened and a middle- aged woman appeared. She looked

  scared.

  “Please tell me you’re not delivering bad news,” she said.

  Lance stopped at the bottom of the steps. “No, ma’am. I’m looking

  for Roy. Is he around?”

  The woman looked relieved. “No, I’m sorry, he’s not here.” She

  shoved her hands into the pockets of her jeans. “May I ask what this is

  about?”

  “Are you Mrs. Carter?”

  “Yes, forgive my manners.” She seemed to relax, smiled, and took

  her hands out of her pockets. “I’m Marci Carter.”

  Lance acknowledged her with a nod. “I understand you lost your

  herd to Bang’s,” he said.

  “I don’t know exactly what happened. All I know is Roy had the vet

  out and then the next thing I knew he was loading up all the cattle and

  hauling them off. He was pretty mad when he left here this morning.”

  “Do you know where he might be?”

  “Not really.” She crossed her arms. “What did he do?”

  “Nothing serious, yet,” Lance said, and then added, “I hope.”

  He took a business card from his shirt pocket and handed it to Marci.

  “When he comes home, would you mind asking him to call me?”

  Marci took the card and nodded. “Will do,” she said, turned, and

  disappeared into the house.

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  Lance drove away from the Carter’s ranch and headed back toward town. He hoped the rifle- toting Roy Carter didn’t end up creating yet

  another problem for him.

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  Chapter 25

  The Monday morning sunshine disappeared and storm clouds began

  to gather, threatening to bring more showers to the Eucha area. Not

  wanting to wake Becky, Sadie quietly climbed out of bed and stum-

  bled to the kitchen, where she hit the button on the coffee maker. She

  needed caffeine. While she waited for the first cup of energy to drip

  into the pot, she raised the aluminum foil on the pan of leftover brown-

  ies and helped herself to one. She didn’t know what was better— coffee

  or chocolate.

  After taking the last bite of the brownie, she licked her fingers and

  then moved to the sink to wash her hands. She gazed out the window

  that gave her a view of the upper pasture behind her house, the same

  place where Kenny Wayne Sanders had been found dead. A thin veil of

  fog clung to the treetops, giving the entire hillside an eerie look.

  She turned her attention to the coffeepot, filled her favorite mug

  with freshly brewed coffee, added sugar and cream, and then returned to

  the window. As she sipped coffee, she contemplated the murdered man

  and recent events. She knew they had to be related, and not being able

  to figure it out frustrated her. She knew Sanders and Angus had known

  each other in the past, but she also realized that proved nothing. She

  wished she could be more like Lance. He took everything in stride. Part

  of being a lawman, she supposed.

  The mysterious change in ownership and forged deeds of so much

  land and the empire Angus seemed hell- bent on amassing— all for kill-

  ing animals for fun— made her stomach turn. Lance wasn’t going to like

  the way she’d accumulated that inf
ormation, but he’d get over it. She

  couldn’t let Angus get away with stealing land.

  Reflecting on a long conversation she’d had the night before with

  Becky, who now wanted to bring rape charges against Angus, Sadie

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  couldn’t help but think it would be an uphill battle. At least Becky had agreed to the rape test when she was in the hospital, meaning they had

  physical evidence. But, Angus was slicker than a mud- covered pig slid-

  ing his way through life, doing whatever he pleased, regardless of how it affected other people, and never paying for any of the wrongs he’d committed. The man had no conscience, and she hoped it wouldn’t cause

  more pain for Becky.

  Movement at the top of the hill caught her eye, and she strained to

  see through the fog. Probably a deer, she thought. Then she saw it again.

  She almost spilled her coffee when she realized it was a buffalo. Was it

  on her side of the fence? Or the other side of the fence? Had the workers already finished installing the new fence?

  She put her coffee cup down and rummaged in the hall closet for

  her binoculars. By the time she returned to the window, the fog had

  thickened, obscuring her view even more. Through the strong lenses,

  she searched for the animal, and then she thought she saw a calf. The

  contrast between the brown mother buffalo and the cream color of the

  calf took her breath away.

  Hurriedly, she dressed and left a note for Becky. She snatched her

  raincoat off a nail by the back door and ran to the barn. In only a few

  minutes, she had bridled Joe, climbed onto his bare back, and rode him

  out of the corral toward the upper pasture. As light rain began to fall,

  she whistled and Sonny appeared, obviously eager for an outing, raining

  or not.

  The rain fell harder as they headed up the hill to the top of the ridge

  where she’d seen the buffalo. Joe trudged slowly and Sadie remained

  alert, suddenly aware of a feeling of being watched. Then she remem-

  bered her dream, and it gave her a chill.

  Joe reared . . . Sonny growled and attacked . . . horse came running toward them at full speed . . . she ran to Sonny’s lifeless body just as Joe began to fight with another horse . . . the stallions screamed and bit at each other . . . hoofs pounding . . .

  It was just a dream, she told herself as she shook off the memory

  and called to Sonny.