Chapter 9: Tricky Business

The next two months seemed to fly by. The Wishart project went quicker and easier than I expected and he was very pleased that it cost a lot less than he expected. I put a lot of effort into making sure it went well and that he would be satisfied with my efforts. That paid off in one way; I had a satisfied customer. In another way, I think I undervalued my services. When I calculated my actual hours and divided them into my fee, I was really working for twenty dollars an hour. Not as much as I was hoping for. I'd have to be more careful in the future.

The good news was that I received the contract for Mountain Building Supplies and I contacted Stuart Fielder right away. He was excited to join me on the project and turned in his notice at the computer shop. Darren made it clear that he was counting on Stuart's ability to manage the system once it was up and running. I made no promises about his training ability. After all, he was very young and inexperienced.

We (Stuart and I) had chosen the Praxis system for the software after much discussion. We then handed out tender applications for hardware to several of the computer suppliers in Pueblo, and of course, Valley Computers in Trinidad. I wanted David Tanner to know I was grateful for his initial referral. I was hoping it would pay dividends in the future.

One of our potential hardware suppliers recommended a man for training that they thought would be ideal. He was a retired teacher who had a good working knowledge of computers. Stuart and I interviewed him and decided he would be good at what we needed. Very even-tempered, used to teaching older students, and patient.

By the middle of August, the project was well underway and I was very pleased with Stuart's input and effort. Since it was all in the family, Darren was equally happy that things were going well. As it turned out, we weren't going to be breaking the bank with this implementation. Our bid was easily the lowest of the five bidders, and the only one that included the development of a system administrator who just happened to be the boss's nephew.

I had been commuting to Pueblo almost daily to stay on top of the project. I made a trip to Cheyenne with Stuart to set up the first satellite station, then looked after the Santa Fe installation myself. Stuart would do the Colby installation and training. The system was that simple that we produced a laminated card with operating instructions for each of the satellites. We made several to make sure they didn't accidentally disappear.

Our instructor/trainer, Edward Meehan, was just what the doctor ordered. He was calm, easygoing, didn't ruffle any feathers, and seemed to get along with everyone. Most importantly, he was getting the message across to the people who were using the system. We patted ourselves on the back for being smart enough to hire him. I would keep him in mind for future jobs if the need arose.

It was a Wednesday evening when I pulled up to the ranch house after a long, tiring day in Pueblo. I wouldn't miss that trip when the project was completed. I was getting to know every inch of I-25 between the two cities. When I walked into the house, I couldn't hear anything going on in the kitchen. That was unusual. Perhaps someone had decided to use the barbeque tonight.

I walked out on the back deck and found Marion, Angus, and Rance all sitting around the circular table, nursing a drink. There wasn't any conversation going on.

"Hi, everybody," I said in greeting.

"Hi, Julie," Marion replied quietly. Rance and Angus just sat and stared at their drinks. That was definitely not normal.

"So ... what's happening?"

"We had a phone call from Melvin Crenshaw, our bank manager," Rance rumbled. "He's decided we aren't a good credit risk any more and is callin' in our line of credit. We have until our next payment to clean it off his books."

"Oh ... oh my. When is the next payment due?"

"Four days from now. Three if you're countin' bankin' days," Angus snarled.

"What can we do? What will happen if we don't make the payment?" I asked.

"Crenshaw made it plain that if we were in default, he would take action against the ranch. There's a grace period, but he could make our life very difficult and make it hard for us to get another line of credit at another bank," Marion explained.

"That son-of-a-bitch Prentice put him up to this," Angus swore. "It's got his fingerprints all over it. It's his way of pressurin' us to sell him the rights to the coal-gas."

"You want to bet the price he's willin' to give us for those rights has dropped a whole hell-of-a-lot?" Rance suggested. "This is a classic squeeze play, and I'll be damned if I'm goin' to let him get away with it."

"What can we do?" I asked, worried that this looked very bad.

"I've got an ace up my sleeve that Dexter doesn't know anythin' about," Rance replied. "I'm just wonderin' whether to play it."

"What are you thinking, Rance," I asked again.

"We need about forty thousand dollars to get us through to the sales," Angus said. "That will pay off the outstandin' line-of-credit and look after our expenses until we get paid for our cattle. In the meantime, we can get ourselves set up with another bank and hopefully establish a line of credit with them."

"So, where do we find the forty-thousand?" I asked. "I've got more than ten thousand in my savings, plus my 401K. I can help."

"Sweetheart, that's wonderful and I'm grateful that you want to help, but I can't let you do that even if we can't find the whole amount," Rance said kindly. "I've got another idea that I'm reluctant to use, but we may just have to."

"Spit it out, Son," Angus said.

"Tim is now a multi-millionaire. I'm pretty sure he'd loan us some money on the promise that we'd pay it back in a month or two. I hate to do it, but I can't let that bastard Prentice mess with us like this. If Crenshaw badmouths us around the town, we could have a hell of a time gettin' a new line of credit."

"Let's deal with Crenshaw and Prentice after we get this loan thing looked after," Marion said. She got a nod from both men almost immediately.

Thursday morning Rance called Tim on his private line. He explained what was happening and how it could affect the future of the ranch. I could only hear one side of the conversation, but I got the impression Tim was very unhappy with how his friend was being treated.

"I appreciate your being willin' to help, Tim," Rance said. "You know I'm good for it as soon as the cattle are sold."

I heard the sound of Tim's voice on the phone, but couldn't make out what he was saying until Rance put him on speakerphone.

"You there, Julie?" I heard the familiar voice.

"Yes, Tim."

"You still have the same bank account as when you worked here?"

"Yes, I do."

"Good. Here's what I'm going to do. I'm going to wire fifty thousand dollars to that account this morning. I want you to get a certified check for exactly what the outstanding is on the line of credit and march into that assholes office and slam it on his desk. Then, close out all the accounts in that branch. I'll get on the phone and find you someone you can trust. Now ... are there any questions."

The tone of his voice suggested there shouldn't be any.

"Thank you, Tim," Rance said softly. I'll make sure you don't regret this. But fifty thousand is more than we need. We just need forty."

"Always good to have a contingency, Rance. Besides, if they want that lease that bad, I suspect they know more than they're telling about what's at stake. Hang tough, my friend."

"I will, Tim. And thank you from my whole family. This means a lot to us."

"I know that, man. I'm just happy that you came to me for help. I feel good about that."

"Yeah ... well ... thanks again. I'll keep in touch."

We hung up shortly after that.

I was trembling in anticipation when Rance pushed Angus into the Central Bank of Trinidad on Friday morning. Marion and I accompanied them, of course. This was a family affair, even if I wasn't yet family. I wasn't prepared for what happened next as we marched up to the reception desk.

"Angus Cameron to see Melvin Crenshaw," he announced loudly.

"I'm sorry sir, Mr. Crenshaw is busy. Do you have an appointment?"

"Now you listen to me, young lady," Angus continued in a voice that couldn't possibly go unheard in the bank. "You get that fat-assed president of yours out here now. I've got a check for him and once he has it in his slimy little hands, I'm going to close out every account we have in this bank and never do business here again. Do I make myself clear?" He was almost shouting at the end of his tirade.

The young woman was trembling as she picked up the phone and called Crenshaw's office.

"Mr. Crenshaw, there's a Mr. Cameron out here with a check for you. He insists on giving it to you personally."

I had to admire the young woman. She hadn't lost her cool and gave Crenshaw a reason to want to come out and face the Camerons. In less than a minute, a very fat man in an ill-fitting three piece suit emerged from the corner office and strode red-faced toward us.

"What do you want, Angus? I told you what was going to happen. Your credit is no good here any more," he blustered.

"Here's your god-damned check for the outstandin' amount on our line of credit," Angus shouted back at him. "Now, I want every trace that me and my family ever did business in this bank erased, so I'm closing out our other accounts and taking them elsewhere."

"Where did you get this money?" the fat man stammered.

"None of your god-damned business, Crenshaw. That's a certified check drawn on the Wells Fargo Bank. Are you goin' to accept that and clear out our accounts?"

Crenshaw looked at the check, then at us, then back at the check. "I'll have to confirm that this is the correct amount," he grumbled, turning and walking back to a desk in the rear of the building. I saw the man he talked to look something up on his computer, look at the check, then nod at Crenshaw. The fat man was turning redder by the moment.

"Very well, Cameron. We're though with you it seems. Don't come back here looking for credit any time in the future."

"Let me give you a word of warnin', Mr. Crenshaw," Rance said in a low voice that spoke of deadly peril. "Don't you dare badmouth my family to anyone in this town or anywhere else ... or I'll come lookin' for you. Do you understand me?"

"You can't threaten me," he attempted in a pathetic version of bluster.

"It's a warnin', fat man. And tell your pal Dexter, that his plan didn't work. I'll be lookin' for him too if anythin' untoward happens. Make sure you understand that."

I'd never heard quite the menace in a man's voice like the words that Rance spoke. It gave me chills. I began to understand how the Stoneman came about. When I looked around, I could see several people staring at us, and the bank seemed unusually quiet. I was happy to follow Angus, Rance, and Marion out of the bank. I almost expected to hear shots as we left.

We sat in the truck, catching our breath. Angus was now able to bend his leg and sit up front. Marion and I were in the back.

"I felt like I was in some kind of movie," I said at length.

"I'm sorry about the language," Angus said quietly. "I pretty much lost my temper in there. I'm not proud of that."

"Well ... I didn't do any better," Rance admitted.

I could hear something rumbling beside me and it was Marion. She was making a vain attempt to stop from laughing, and when it came, it came big-time. I thought she was going to have a fit laughing as hard as she was. Tears streamed down her face as she struggled to control herself.

"What's so damned funny?" Angus snarled.

"You," Marion finally managed. "You and your son. You sounded like somethin' out of a bad movie. That poor little man didn't know what to do or say when you went all macho on him." She was wiping her face with her hands as she tried to get ahold of herself.

I saw the grin on Rance's face, then the same on Angus. I knew then that they'd put on an act for the poor man, but I couldn't blame them. He was just a pawn in Prentice's scheme, and he'd been caught. Better than that, it had been a public humiliation that brought him down. It couldn't have been any better, I thought.

We headed down to the local steak house to celebrate our vanquishing of The Central Bank of Trinidad. Rance phoned Tim to tell him how it went down and how much the whole family had enjoyed the experience. I began to recognize the sense of relief that the three of them felt. The ranch had been at risk and they couldn't allow it to be taken from them. I was marrying into a way of life that I was only just beginning to understand.

Just before lunch Monday morning, Tim called Rance back and they spoke for several minutes. Rance was making some notes, so I assumed it was about where we would arrange the future financing of the ranch. I heard Rance chuckle a couple of times, so I knew there wasn't any more bad news coming. When he hung up, we walked into the kitchen.

"That was Tim. He's sayin' we can get the financin' we need at Valley Savings and Loan. They are small, but well financed and a FDIC member. We don't need to worry about them bein' around for the long haul. He's contacted the principals and told them to expect a call from us."