Poverty Hill
Copyright© 2026 by Asa Strong
Chapter 10
“This ought to be interestin’,” I thought to myself, as I took a seat at the bar.
Lucy had her back to me, watchin’ the television and pro’lly didn’t hear me come in.
“Hey, what’s an ol’ cowboy gotta do to get a beer around her?” I hollered.
Lucy jumped and then turned around.
“Amos, what the hell you doin’, yah scared the hell out of me.”
I chuckled, and then answered, “Hell, I need a beer worse ‘en you need to look at that broken down cowboy.”
“Hold your horses Amos, I wanna see this.” She said and then turned around to watch the TV.
The TV had by this time switched back to the news lady and she was explainin’ that I was assigned to the sheriff’s department by the court. Shortly, the next news item came on and Lucy drew me a draft and plopped it down in front of me.
“Here, now you gonna tell me what’s a goin’ on Amos?”
I took a long swig of the beer. Damn it tasted good too! I answered her.
“Lucy, I ain’t got no idea. Only thin’ I know is that Dave asked me to go out an take a look at where that fella was kilt. Next thin’ I know someone’s a shootin’ at me.”
“The news says you’re workin’ for the court. What’s that all about?”
“Well, seems like when I tole Dave I weren’t a goin’ out there unless I had some protection, the Judge signed me up to be some kind of court investigator. I still ain’t sure what that all means anyhow.”
I finally got Lucy off the subject of me and onto gettin’ me some dinner. I even talked her into lettin’ Miguel drive me home after I ate.
I was up early the next mornin’. Overnight it had started snowin’ again, but it weren’t very heavy, so we should be OK to make it to where Leg’s had been shot.
I’d just finished eatin’ breakfast when the CBI guys showed up. They were drivin’ two RV’s cartin’ big snowmobiles with ‘em. I picked up my rifle and handgun and we were off.
There was no problem reachin’ the ambush spot, and while the CBI folks were nosin’ around where Leg’s was down, I found my way up the side of the hill to where the shooter had positioned hisself. It weren’t hard to find out where the shooter had lain. I could see the depression in the snow, next to a big spruce tree. The light snow did however cover up any real detail. The faint trail where he’d ridden away on a snowmobile was still visible, headin’ east toward the highway. I checked around the area, hopin’ to find a spent shell casin’, but had no luck in findin’ one.
By the time I got back to where the CBI folks were at, they’d ‘bout finished whatever it was they was a doin. They had found the shooters M-16, still strapped on Leg’s. I managed to work the packsaddle off of the horse while the rest of ‘em went up to take a look at where the shooter had been. By the time they returned, I’d worked the saddle off, repacked the gear, and loaded it on one of the snowmobile trailers. We then headed back to where we’d parked the RV’s. When we reached my place, I remembered the damn shell casin’ I’d found and gave that to ‘em. Damn If’n I didn’t have to spend a half hour describin’ where I’d found it and other such nonsense afore they left.
I’d hopped for a peaceful afternoon, but it weren’t to be. I’d just finished cleanin’ out the barn and spreadin’ fresh hay for the horses when Lisa came drivin’ down my road.
She got out of her Bronco and came toward me and hollered, “Amos, I got a call from Dave on the radio. He says the Judge wants to see you in town.”
“Damn, this investigator business is becomin’ a pain in the ass,” I said to myself, as I put the pitchfork aside.
“Wait a minute, will yah. I need to get my guns outta the house.”
I retrieved my rifle and handgun from the house, and we left to see what the Judge wanted.
When we got to the courthouse in Steamboat Springs, Lisa stopped the car to let me out.
“You comin’ in?” I asked.
“Nope, Dave said the Judge wanted to talk to you alone.”
I nodded my head and got out of the Bronco.
After askin’ three or four people, I tracked the Judge down in his chambers.
The Judge was on the phone when I entered the room and motioned me to sit in the chair, aside his desk.
After the Judge finished his call, he turned to me, “Amos, I wanted to talk to you early this morning, but found out you were out with the CBI. Anyway, knowing you, you’re probably full of questions.”
“Yes sir, you might say that. For one, I noticed when we’re in the restaurant yesterday you kept remindin’ Dave that I were workin’ for you. What’s that all ‘bout?”
The Judge leaned back in his chair, then said, “Amos, don’t take this wrong, but I’m not sure who you can trust. It’s obvious; someone is leaking information from the sheriff’s office.”
I thought for a moment, and then said, “What makes you think that?”
“Amos, think a minute. How did the shooters know you and Deputy Santos were going to be following up on the investigation out there in the woods? Someone had to tell them. Also, why are they focusing on you? Not all that many people really know you. Especially down here in Steamboat.”
I’d been thinkin’ along those same lines myself.
“Judge, it makes sense. But, I’ve known Dave a long time. I don’t see him mixed up in this.”
The Judge shook his head, then turned and said, “Amos, were talking about drugs here. That means a lot of money. People do strange things when it comes to money. You can’t take for granted, just because you’ve known someone a long time, that they aren’t up to their ears in this mess.”
“So I guess what you’re sayin’ is not to trust anyone?”
The Judge got up from his chair and then walked towards the window. He looked out for a few moments, saying nothin’, and then turned to me.
“Amos, this is something big. The CBI has been investigating this for over a year and has found nothing. The only thing we know for sure is that large amounts of cocaine are showing up in Denver, and there is every indication that it’s coming from somewhere around here.
“To answer your question, no, you can’t trust anyone. There’s just too much money involved.”
I agreed with him, but somethin’ was naggin’ on my mind and I needed to get it out in the open.
“Judge, I hear what you’re sayin’, but why in the hell have you got me in the middle of this, I don’t have a clue.”
The Judge laughed and then walked back and sat down in his chair.
“Amos, I’ve known you since you were a kid. Your father and I were like brothers and the chip didn’t fall far from the block.”
He then put a serious look on his face and said, “I trust you because of who you are. I also know most of what you did in the Army. It took some prying and screaming and hollering, but I managed to get a pretty good description of what your activities were in South America.”
“The answers are out there,” He said, pointing north.
This brought to mind somethin’ I’d always wondered about.
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