Page 5 of Final Ride

Chapter Two

Monday, July 22nd.

Wild Stallion Ranch. Montana.

After chores, me and Virge ran in for breakfast and we had a million questions for Travis about his idea for our future. He said he’d tell us when he was sober, and he’d sobered up overnight. He must have.

He set plates of bacon and fried eggs in front of us and turned back to the counter to pop down more toast.

“You’re stone-cold sober now, Dad, and we want to know about the idea we’re gonna do on our new ranch in Texas,” said Virgie. “Me and Harlan can’t figure out what exactly you’re thinking of for our future.”

“Well, boys, this is it.” Travis sat down at the head of the table and leaned back in his chair. “I figure I’ve been catching the bad guys long enough and while I’m retired I’m gonna concentrate more on preventing crimes—and I’m gonna start where it usually starts—with teens who go the wrong way.”

“Okay,” said Billy. “I understand that thought, and it’s a damned good one, Travis. How you gonna put that thought into action? Obviously you’ve got a plan in mind.”

“Tell us the plan, Dad,” said Virge.

“I’m gonna run a rehab ranch for juvies. Get them paroled into my custody—selected carefully—the ones who still have a chance. The ones I can work with and change their direction.”

Billy listened as he sipped his coffee.

“But it won’t be an easy job. The boys will be messed up and it will take work—a lot of work to get through to them.”

“Messed up like we were,” I said, and Virge stared at me.

“Exactly,” said Travis. “I’ll have to get the support of the State of Texas and help from a lot of other agencies. Annie will help me a ton because she knows the ropes. She already did this with the young bikers she rescued.”

“It’s a great idea, Travis,” said Billy.

“I’m not sure we want a bunch of juvies living on our new ranch, Dad,” said Virge. “I lived in juvie for months on end, and those guys can cause a helluva lot of trouble.”

Travis laughed. “The boys we try to help will be a lot like the two of you when I first got hold of y’all. Ever think of that?”

“Nope,” said Virge. “I’ve got to ponder this a helluva lot more.”

“You do that, Virgil. “Let me know when you’re ready for a discussion.” Dad turned to me. “You too, Harlan. Think about it and talk to your brother.”

“Will do, Dad.”

Sheriff’s Office. Coyote Creek. Montana.

Travis sat in the break room with a mug of coffee in front of him and a big stack of reports that needed his signature. There was a mountain of paperwork he had to finish before he left the sheriff’s position at the end of the month.

His cell rang and he wasn’t prepared for the call. “Sheriff Frost.”

“I hope I have the right person,” the caller said. “Sheriff Frost, do you have a daughter named Tammy Traynor or Tammy Bristol?”

“I do. My adopted daughter. Did you find Tammy? Where are you calling from?”

“This is the Oxbow Country Sheriff’s Office in North Carolina calling, sir. Your daughter’s belongings and personal effects were found at an accident scene in our jurisdiction, but yourdaughter was not found in the vehicle or in the vicinity. Her body wasn’t there either, and I’m only sayingbodybecause a life-threatening amount of her blood was present in the wrecked truck.”

“I see. Could you send me copies of the accident reports, Sheriff? I’ll give you the email for our station.”

“Happy to do that, Sheriff Frost. I’m sure you’re aware of your daughter’s legal status. She’s listed as a parole violator and a wanted fugitive. Armed and dangerous, but I’m sure you know all of that.”

“I’m well aware, sir. If I knew where Tammy was, I’d pick her up and incarcerate her myself. She was paroled into my custody, and I’m responsible. I need to find her.”

“I hope the reports help you, Sheriff, but there’s not much evidence there. We still haven’t found the driver of the truck. It’s been days and he must have wandered off from the crash and died in the woods. The truck was found in a heavily treed area of the mountains.”

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