2008-9-7 06:06:00
by Ted Dewey
It was eleven o'clock in the morning when the chopper set down at the airport in the city of Prescott. The trio rented a cab and were driven to Henry's ranch on Dry Creek.
Everything appeared to be just as he had left it. Henry fumbled for the keys and unlocked the doors on both buildings.
The inside of the house was clean except for the thin layer of dust that had accumulated. Henry produced a vacuum cleaner and some dust cloths. In a short tine everything was in order.
Henry removed some steaks from the freezer and put then in a big cast iron skillet to thaw. Soon dinner would be ready.
The old Ford was setting in the garage with two flat tires and a dead battery. Otherwise it was in running condition.
Henry was always prepared for such an emergency. A battery charger hooked to the power line from the ridge soon had the motor going. An air hose screwed into where he had removed a spark plug blew up the tires.
Rodney found a bucket and scooped up water from the almost dry creek and gave it a wash lob.
Julie cleaned the inside and washed the windows. "Sure don't look like Henry's old car anymore." she grinned. "That red mud has been on there for years!"
Henry defended himself. "I washed it quite often, but every time I did it rained and got the roads all muddy."
The steaks were finally ready for the pan. Julie fired up the gas stove and went to work. In a short time dinner was ready.
When the meal was over Henry and Rodney retreated to the living room. Julie began washing dishes.
It was Rodney that brought up the subject that was foremost on both their minds. "Have you come up with any bright ideas yet? What do you suggest we do now?"
Henry slowly shook his head. "No nothing new. I have been trying to figure out how we could find out just what he intends to do. So far I am a total blank. But before we do anything drastic we should snoop around a bit."
"We are sort of up against a stone wall." said Rodney. "We can't just walk up and ask him. So I think the first thing to do is locate his place, and see what kind of a set-up he has. Maybe we can learn something from that."
Henry nodded. "We will take it slow and easy until we decide just what to do. It is only a few miles to where he lives. What say we drive over there and take a look?"
Julie's voice came from the kitchen. "You had better get some new tags for the car. Those on there are over a year old."
Henry's face colored, "Right you are. We had better head straight for the courthouse. We don't want the law to pick us up and ask a lot of questions. We will go get the license and drive around by his place on the way back. How does that sound?"
"Fine," Rodney agreed. "Let's get going."
An hour later with a new license plate on the car they felt more secure. After a stop at a filling station for gas, they took off toward Granite Butte.
Henry was at the wheel. He had donned a large pair of dark eyeglasses. He had bought them several years ago when he had received a bad flash from his electric welder.
It had been a long time since lie had been to see a barber. With the dark glasses and long hair plus a clean shiny Ford it was unlikely that anyone would recognize him.
He drove out West Gurley to Warm Springs road then took another right. The big grey Granite Butte towered just ahead of them. "Do you have any idea where we go from here?" He asked Julie.
"We should be getting pretty close."
"He said that he had bought some land out by Granite Butte. There seems to be quite a few new buildings going up around here. Just look at the new houses! There should be a real estate office around here somewhere."
Scattered about in the scrub pine and big granite boulders were a number of new homes. Side roads took off in every direction winding their way through these obstructions. Rows of mail boxes mounted on posts were off to the side of the main traveled road.
"He should be around here somewhere." Henry muttered.
"Drive real slow." Julie told him. "We will keep our eyes on the mail boxes."
Henry dropped the Ford down into low range, "Watch for the name Ira Baker. Also Frank Poletti. He might be using his real name."
As their eyes scanned the mail boxes Julie kept muttering. "There sure should be a real estate office around here somewhere. This looks like a big project."
Suddenly her prediction came true. Just ahead and off to the right sitting in a grove of stunted pines was a double wide mobile home. A sign by the side of the road with an arrow pointing toward the building read: Granite Butte Realtors.
Henry brought the Ford to a stop and glanced over at Rodney. "What do you think?"
"It might save a lot of time."
Julie's eyes were shining. She turned to Rodney. "Open the door and let me out. I will run in and find out."
Rodney opened the door and stepped out. Julie slipped to the ground and took off on the run.
"Quite a woman you got there." Rodney remarked. "She doesn't give a person a chance to say no."
Henry nodded. "You are right there. Like when I told her we were coming down here. She didn't ask she just said she was going along."
Several minutes slipped by, then Julie came walking out of the place with a big white piece of paper in her hand. Rodney opened the door and she slid inside.
She spread the paper out in her lap. It was a complete map of the new subdivision!
Julie was pointing with her finger. "Look there! It says 'Ira Baker,' and it is just a little ways down this road. " Her finger moved down to where there was an 'X' on the paper. "And right here is where we are now."
Henry started the motor. "Looks like we got a mile or so to go." He stepped on the gas.
Minutes later they rounded a curve in the road and up just ahead was a row of mail boxes. A mail carrier driving a jeep was just pulling away. Off to the right was a dirt road winding through the trees and bushes.
Evidently the mail carrier was finished, he stepped on the gas and moved on.
There were four mailboxes in the row. Three standard sized ones and one extra large. On it was printed the name, Ira Baker.
Rodney pointed with his finger. "There it is. Stop:" He turned to Henry. "I got a hunch. Something tells me..." There was a strange look on his face as he slid out the door, "that I should take a look at Mister Baker's mail.
He opened the door and took out a hand full of letters and papers. One quick look told him that most of it was junk mail -- advertising from the local stores.
But there was one letter that was not. It was addressed to Frank Poletti, in care of Ira Baker, including the box and route number.
The sound of a motor car coming up the winding road through the bushes spurred Rodney into action. He jammed the junk mail back into the box and shut the door. A few quick strides of his long legs and he was beside the car. Julie held the door open as he slipped inside.
"Get going Henry."
Henry got a quick glance at the mailboxes in the rear view mirror. A black late model Ford had pulled up and stopped. Someone was standing in front of the big mailbox looking through the papers.
"Do you think you got something my friend?" Henry asked.
"I don't know, but we were grasping at straws. I just got a sudden urge to take a look at his mail. This letter might lead us to something."
Henry grinned. "I guess you know that it is a Federal offense to steal U.S. Mail."
"Rodney nodded. "Yes I know. But there is an old saying... 'All is fair in love and war.' And this is war. If there is nothing in the letter that concerns us we will put it back in the morning. It will be a day late, and no damage will be done."
"We can steam it open," Julie suggested.
Rodney turned the letter over. "It has no return address and it has a Chicago post mark."
Henry was all smiles as he stepped down hard on the gas. In a few minutes they were back at the ranch. Julie put the tea kettle on the gas burner. In a few minutes steam was coming out the pouring spout. With the aid of a small round pencil the flap came open. She drew out the letter and handed it to Rodney.
He opened the folded sheet and spread it out on the table. Six eager eyes stared down at it. In bold handwriting was the following:
"Got your letter yesterday. I accept your offer. Thanks for the advance. Me and the boys will arrive in Phoenix at 2 P.M., June 10. Will be on flight 47 Eastern Airlines.
"Meet us at the airport. Make sure you have plenty of ammo and hardware."
Rodney whistled. "Looks like we hit the jackpot!"
Henry nodded. "Sound's like he's getting his gang together to help him out."
Julie's eyes were big and round "Thank God that you looked in that mail box. You must have been inspired."
"Are you some sort of a seer?" Henry grinned. "One that can see into the future?"
Rodney shook his head. "Just a lucky break I guess. 'Lady Luck' has given us a bad time lately. Maybe the law of averages has something to do with it."
Tears formed in Julie's eyes. "And maybe it was an answer to my prayers."
Henry picked up the letter and stared at it for a moment.
"This," he said, "can mean only one thing. This guy is out to get us and he is bringing in help from the outside. I wonder how many will be on that plane?"
Rodney shook his head. "That is hard to tell but we must find out. Most of those gangs that hang out around the city are composed of about half a dozen people. What would be your guess. Henry?"
"I don't know much about gangs in the city, but I think you are pretty close."
"Lots of times they are all in one family."
"So I hear."
"So now we can start making plans."
Henry nodded. "And thank God we got down here when we did. It must of been Him today that whispered in you ear and told you to take a peek in that mail box."
Julie was staring at the empty envelope that she was still holding in her hand. "What will we do with this?"
Rodney picked up the letter from the table and handed it to her. "Better put this back and glue down the flap. So tonight when it is good and dark we will return it to the mail box."
"Mister Baker -- alias Frank Poletti -- should get this letter tomorrow. Don't you think so Henry?"
"By all means."
Rodney took a calendar card from his pocket and stared down at it.
"According to this we have just three days to form a welcoming committee."
Henry nodded. "We will give them a reception like they have never had before!"
-- End Of Chapter Twenty-Seven --
Copyright © 2008 by J.J. Dewey, All Rights Reserved