# Car 54

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© 2005 / revised 2014
K Pelle

### Chapter 57:
Caution - Emergency Vehicle Access

Although I had minor trepidations about Jackie heading off to school in Edmonton in a few weeks, I certainly wasn't worried about her and Carissa taking Kristina to town for her three month medical checkup. In fact I was out raking the native hay crop when Maria came riding her horse across the field at a full gallop and skidded to halt next to my tractor.

"You're needed in town, right now," she screamed at me. "Carissa and Jackie are both badly hurt! Someone hit them with a truck as they were crossing the street."

"Both of them? What about the baby?"

"Kristina is okay. She's with her grandmother at Lucille's house now, but Mrs. Coulter is really upset, so Sandy wants you to drive her to town right away. That way you can both be there in case you're needed."

I didn't bother unhooking the tractor from the side-delivery rake I was pulling, I just lifted it, then turned the tractor toward the ranch buildings. Then I cut directly across all the swaths in my way, not caring about the mess I'd make, I could straighten that up another day. Sandy was already tossing a few bags into my old car, because I'd installed seat belts in it and she could use those to fasten Toby's car-seat in place.

"Wash up, and change your clothes, FAST!" she ordered after seeing how dusty and dirty I'd gotten in the field.

I think I had the fastest shower and change of clothes ever, then I raced out to the car to find Sandy and Toby all ready to leave. As we drove up the hill on the way into town, Sandy updated me on what she'd heard about what had happened. Carissa and Jackie had been crossing main street when they'd been struck by a hit-and-run driver who was driving a pickup truck with a full 'bush guard' front bumper. Jackie had been knocked down and might have been run over, while Carissa had been thrown several feet from the point of impact. Both were badly injured and had been rushed to the hospital, but that was all Sandy had heard about their condition. Wilma Coulter had been approaching the same intersection while pushing Kristina in her baby buggy, so she had seen the whole incident take place. Mrs. Coulter was insistent that she'd seen the driver of the truck and swore that it had been Jackie's father. That had upset her so badly that she was in the hospital as well, being treated for shock and emotional trauma. Lucille was looking after Kristina for the time being, but Sandy said that when Lucille had called she'd sounded close to the breaking point.

None of that was news I wanted to hear.

We had just turned onto the county road at the end of our access road when I heard the roar of a loud motor through my open window and happened to glance in the rear view mirror. Accelerating towards us from further up the county road was a full sized pickup truck with a huge brush guard front bumper. Since we were in my car, that pickup truck with its big pipe bumper looked HUGE and in no time he was so close that I could see he resembled Sandy's father, but more than that he looked stark, raving mad! I was accelerating, but he was within a few feet of my car and I could see from the way he was driving that he was planning to run us off the road. I suppose he'd recognised us by the car, since it was painted the same colours as Car 54 had been and my name had certainly been associated with those colours. I knew that we were in trouble, but I wasn't about to give up.

"Sandy, fasten your seat belt and hang on. I'm sure that's Jackie's father behind us and it looks like he wants to run us down," I barked.

Instead of reaching for her seat belt immediately, she leaned over, reached across me, grabbed my seat belt and clicked it into place even before she grabbed hers and locked it down.

"Toby is strapped into his seat and it's strapped down tight," she said quickly. "And, I looked back at the truck, that's definitely my uncle Bill. He must want to kill us all."

I heard her words, but she seemed to be speaking slowly and her words sounded distant. That meant my time compression phenomenon was back and everything seemed to slow, the same effect which had often hit me while I was on the track or at other times of danger. Only I wasn't in a stock car race, competing for some silly little trophy this time, instead I was racing for a far bigger prize - my family's lives.

"I know," I managed to answer Sandy, then I blocked out all distractions.

I was concentrating on racing a madman who might try anything, so I couldn't afford to let my attention wander. If I could gain some distance on his truck he'd be partially blinded by dust kicked up by my tires as we raced down the dirt road, so stirring up dust became my primary goal. I was doing my best to aim for the softest, driest parts of the road, attempting to throw up as much dust as I could, but still drive as fast as possible. I couldn't go any faster though. I was already going as fast as I dared, far faster than I'd ever travelled down that narrow road before. No matter how I tried however, I couldn't seem to gain any distance on the truck on that section of dirt road. Soon we'd have to navigate the portion of road we called the big bend though, a wicked S-bend at the bottom of a long, steep grade where the road crossed a huge erosion gully. Those sharp curves with the narrow bridge in the middle of the S-bend was the one place on this road where I might have a chance to gain some distance. I knew that pickup trucks didn't corner well at high speed, which meant he'd need to slow more than I would. On top of that I was certain he'd never intentionally thrown his truck into a four-wheel slide and I planned to show him I could do it with a normal car. If he wasn't an exceptionally skilled driver in a highly modified truck I'd gain distance on those curves, which was bound to be some advantage further down the road. If I could just hold him off until we reached the better maintained road that ran past my family's farm there would be no way in hell he'd ever catch me before I got to town and I knew I'd have help there.

I'd grown accustomed to how my car handled through years of driving it and although it wasn't set up for racing, I knew just what to expect from that run-of-the-mill Ford sedan. The only non-stock items on that car were the tires, shocks, suspension and seat belts, which I'd beefed up because of my experience on the track, but that was all I'd done to modify it. Since the rest of the car was virtually stock, I'd certainly be driving that S-bend much slower than I would have done in Car 54. Still, I knew I'd be going faster than most people could and definitely faster than any pickup I'd ever seen. I glanced in the rearview mirror just before entering the first curve of the S-bend and saw that he'd already slowed slightly, that meant I'd already gained distance on him. That was all I needed to know. It meant I had a few seconds to brake, then swing a foot or two wide on the straight leading into the curve, that way I'd be in a better position to cut the corner as tight as possible. Once I was in the turn though I'd have to shave the inside of the corner extremely close in order to still have enough distance to regain control of the car before we crossed the bridge.

Just as I entered the first curve I cut the front wheels and tapped the brakes, just enough to throw the car into a flat skid. The instant I felt the wheels break free, I poured on the power. For a brief instant all four wheels were skidding, then I was in a powered slide and that was something I knew I could control. Even with the beefed up suspension the car leaned more than I felt comfortable with and it wanted to slide wide, but somehow I held her in place on the road's dirt surface. However we must have been doing about forty miles an hour and still recovering from that slide as we hit the deck of that narrow bridge, but I had to concentrate on swinging to the other side of the roadway to set up for the next curve. I was off the bridge and just about to accelerate so I could throw the car into another four wheel slide for the next curve when I heard Sandy gasp.

"Ohmigod!" she shouted, then an instant later. "He's going over!"

As suddenly as she spoke, she fell silent, then she gulped as if swallowing hard just as I powered into the curve, but I'd caught her words and wasn't forcing the car into a slide.

"You can ease up, Chris, Uncle Bill didn't make it," she continued after a second. "Don't you dare stop though. His truck is wrecked and down in the ravine, but he could still be dangerous. He always carries a rifle in his truck and he's the kind of guy who would lay there waiting for you to come help him, then shoot you, even if he was taking his last breath."

"But - what if he really is dying?" I asked as I slowed the car and glanced over my shoulder to see the dust rising from the accident.

"Don't be a damn fool!" she shouted. "He just tried to kill us, so to hell with him. Let the cops check the wreck to see if he's alive. It's not your job. Let's go to Uncle Tom's house and use the phone to call them. After what Lucille said he did in town I'll bet the cops are already looking for him though."

I didn't like the idea of leaving an accident, but I didn't feel safe about going back either. As well as that I didn't want to have an argument with Sandy, so I started to accelerate again, but planned to stop and call for help as soon as we could. We didn't get as far as Uncle Tom's though. We'd just come over a knoll on the lower end of the county road when we saw an RCMP car coming the other way. Immediately I pulled over to the side of the road to stop, then stepped out to flag down the cop car.

"Chris, have you heard anything about the problems in town?" Officer Davis asked as he pulled up and rolled down the window of the squad car. "We tried to call your house, but first the line was busy, then no one answered. We think Bill McAdam might be coming this way to try to ..."

"I've heard about Carissa and Jackie, but if you're looking for Bill McAdam, he's in a wreck about a half-mile up the road," I said sharply, interrupting him. "He came up behind us and tried to run us off the road, but he tried to go too fast around the curve. When the truck skidded, it flipped over and into the ravine on the S-bend right by the bridge. Sandy says he's a nutcase who always carries a rifle in his pickup though, so I didn't dare go back to find out if he's okay or not."

"Can you turn around and show me where the accident happened?"

"Accident hell, the bastard intentionally tried to kill us, but he might have killed himself instead. I can turn around, but I'm not going close to the son-of-a-bitch, not unless I know he's dead, or else in your handcuffs and stripped naked as a jay-bird. If you want I'll point out where his truck is from the top of the hill above the ravine, but that's it. I'm not going any closer until I know it's safe."

"That's all I want, Chris. Constable McDougall and I will handle the situation from there."

So I hopped back in the car and did a police turn, backing up rapidly, then turning the wheel so the rear end swung to the left. As the front end of the car whipped around to the right, I spun the steering wheel to use car's momentum to complete the turn and slapped the gearshift into drive, then hit the accelerator. The car spun to face the opposite direction and in only seconds we were moving down the road again, but now facing back the way we'd come only moments before.

"Dammit, why did you do that fancy turn crap?" Sandy complained. "Did you have to show off?"

"Sorry! I was in a hurry and that's the fastest way to turn around. Besides, I guess I'm still annoyed that anyone could do what that S-O-B did," I growled. "Actually, I hope the bastard is dead."

"Huh, so do I, even though he's my uncle. Don't you dare repeat that to anyone outside the family though, not what you said and not what I said."

"Oh come on now, I know that much," I grumbled quietly, my anger slowly defusing as I crested the hill overlooking the S-bend and the ravine, then pulled over and skidded to a stop.

The pickup was completely upside down and jammed crosswise in the ravine, but I could only say that because we could just barely see all four tires and the underbody of the truck. I wasn't about to go close enough to see anything more, not until I knew that bastard was no danger to me or anyone else.

The RCMP car pulled up beside us and the constable on our side of the car rolled down her window.

"Chris, did you say you thought he was armed?" Officer Davis asked, calling across his partner.

"Yes Officer Davis," Sandy called back. "He always has a rifle behind the seat in his truck. He's been in trouble for that before, but that doesn't stop him. He thinks the laws are for other people, not him."

"Thank you, Sandy. I'll take that as a warning," he nodded to her, then looked directly into my eyes. "Chris, I'd appreciate it if you'd back up as soon as possible, at least until you're out of rifle range. We'll take it from here and I'll catch up with you to get your statement later. Actually right now, you're both needed in town more than here, so get your butt in gear, but please drive safely!"

"Thanks Don," I nodded, then restarted the car and quickly backed up the hill before I turned and headed for town again.

"Oh my, I feel like I was run over by a steam roller," Sandy said a moment later as she slumped in her seat.

"That's because you're going through an adrenaline dump, but I'm going through it too," I snorted. "I was worried until I saw how he was driving, then I just became angry. I was still extremely alarmed though, so I'm feeling the same effects your are."

"I was scared back there, but I'm very thankful that you used to drive a stock car. I couldn't have driven like that," she sighed. "I don't get it though, Toby slept through the whole thing. I expected him to start crying when he was being thrown from side to side, but he never even seemed to notice."

"Maybe he just likes riding in a car," I mumbled.

Both of us fell silent then and we drove the rest of the way to town without speaking. We went straight to Lucille and Jerry's, where Lucille met us at the door, holding Kristina in one arm and Jenny in the other. Both of the babies were crying and Lucille looked as if she'd been crying too. Since Sandy was holding Toby, I reached out and took Kristina, who opened her eyes and saw who it was, then snuggled close and stopped crying in seconds. Almost instantly Jenny settled down as well.

"Thank God!" Lucille whispered emphatically. "Kristina hasn't stopped crying since she was brought here and I think Jenny was crying in sympathy."

"Umm, I should go to the hospital, shouldn't I?" I frowned, knowing I couldn't take Kristina with me.

"Don't bother, Chris. Neither of the girls made it," Lucille broke into tears again. "Not only that, but Corinna and Mrs. Coulter were almost inconsolable, so they've both been sedated. Aunt Liz, Aunt Alice and Jennifer Dolens are there, so if anything is needed they can take care of it. If you really feel you have to go somewhere and do something, then go down to Frank's garage. He's been trying to organize people to hunt for Bill McAdam and his sons. You could probably help with that if you have to get involved."

"Frank can call off the search for old man McAdam," I stated flatly. "By now that jackass is either in police custody, or in a body bag. I imagine Franks knows that though, because I think the police are going to need the tow truck to find out if McAdam is alive or not."

"What do you mean?"

"Uncle Bill tried to run us off the road. He missed us and ended up in that big gully at the bottom of the big hill, the one on the county road going up to the ranch, where the road zig-zags," Sandy reached out and touched my arm with one hand. "Chris drove through the curve just like he was on the track and in Car 54. Uncle Bill was chasing us, but was going too fast to keep his truck on the road. He didn't make the corner so he skidded off the road, then his truck flipped over and landed upside down. I think he was probably crushed, because the cab of the truck was flattened when it hit the bottom of the wash."

"That's enough, Sandy," I growled. "We should give Officer Davis a full report before we say anything more to anyone. He might not want us to tell other people everything."

"He was trying to catch you - following your car - in a pickup truck - and on a dirt road? The man had to be crazy as a friggin' loon to even try that!" Lucille stared at me, then shook her head. "Sorry, I guess we knew that already, especially after all the other crap he's done."

"Are you implying he did more than we've heard about?"

"Well, his wife was killed in Calgary, shot at point blank range and they think he did it. Their next door neighbours called the police because the dog was constantly howling for a couple days. They found Mrs. McAdam when they entered the house and they think she must have been dead for at least two or three days. On top of that Mark and Luke were attacked sometime yesterday afternoon. Clarence found them early this morning when he went out to the job site. He managed to get them into his truck and rushed them to the hospital in Innisfail. Charlie Engels is looking for Matt and John too, but they don't seem to be on the job. The backhoe and the cat are there, shot all to hell, but the last I'd heard he hadn't found the guys."

"Holy cow!" Sandy stared at Lucille. "That's almost the whole family. Are Jess and Jean okay? Has anyone talked to them?"

"They're fine," Lucille grasped Sandy's hand. "They've been camping out with young Tom, working on the fences somewhere out on the lease land. Uncle Willard called them on the CB and they're headed back to the farm now. Actually by this time they may be on the way here."

"Oh, thank goodness!" Sandy sighed at that, but then so did I.

We remained at Lucille's so Don Davis could find us to take our statements, but we soon learned that there wouldn't be any problem for me over the incident on our road. According to the RCMP investigation, Bill McAdam's truck had definitely been behind our car when we entered the curve and Officer Davis had photographic evidence of the tire tracks to prove it. McAdam had simply lost control and skidded across the road into the ravine. The truck had entered the ravine nose first, but that big front bumper had dug in part way down the bank, then the truck had flipped end for end, landing upside down. When the bumper dug in it had instantly stopped the truck's forward motion, then since McAdam wasn't wearing a seat belt, he was thrown into the steering wheel. We learned later that the coroner at his inquest said his head smashed into the windshield and the steering wheel post smashed through his sternum, rupturing his heart. Both injuries caused massive trauma and either one would probably have killed him almost instantly. I didn't feel the least bit of sympathy for the bastard, in fact I felt he got off easily. Maybe I'm a vindictive S-O-B, but I almost wish he'd have lasted longer, especially if you considered all the pain and trauma he had caused others.

Sandy and I were still at Lucille's when word came through that Matt and John had been found and that they were badly injured, but alive. They'd both been shot, Matt in the chest and John in the abdomen, then they'd been rolled into one of the trenches on the site where they'd been working. The wounds were so serious that Charlie and one of the local doctors had loaded them into Charlie's plane to fly them to the University Hospital in Edmonton. An hour later we were told that the other two boys were being flown to Edmonton as well, so although we didn't know any specifics, we knew they were all in extremely serious condition.

That left us with a major conundrum since we felt that a family representative should be with them. The only surviving members of the whole McAdam family were Sandy, Jess and Jean. Only Sandy was nursing Toby and now had Kristina to care for as well, while Jess and Jean were not yet eighteen so they couldn't make any legal decisions. That meant the job fell on my shoulders simply because I was legally married into the family. However, I still had a ranch to run and a staggering amount of work to do at that time of year. I called a meeting of the Crawford-Bender family at that point, which was easy because all of us were in town. We decided that as soon as he was back in town, I'd hire Charlie Engels and fly to Edmonton, along with Mom, Jess and Jean, while Beth would look after the house for Mom. Meanwhile Tom would go to Mile High Ranch to help Juan, Conseula and Maria. That really stretched our workforce thin, especially since Wil was spending a lot of time supporting Corinna, but it would work for a few days.

Mom, Jess, Jean and I flew out early the next morning and rented a car at the airport to drive to the hospital. Of course the red tape had to be satisfied before we could get any information about the McAdams. When we arrived at the hospital's registration desk, I actually had to show the nurse my marriage license before we were told anything. At that time both Mark and John were conscious and in recovery, but still in a drug induced stupor, but Matt and Luke were in the operating room for a second time. I was the only one allowed to speak to a doctor at that time, I don't know why and I didn't ask, but at least I was given the information we all wanted to know. Then I had to convince the hospital that Mom, Jess and Jean were related to the boys, but Mom had to prove she had been Jackie's 'foster mother' before they were allowed to see the boys.

Mark had been struck in the chest and lower abdomen by two bullets, so he'd already had an operation to repair internal damages, but the operation included a peritoneal lavage, and some minor reconstructive surgery on his right hip joint. He'd have to undergo further reconstructive surgery, however at the moment he was considered to be stable, but under mild anaesthesia.

John had also been hit by two bullets and grazed by a third, but all of his wounds were in the fatty or muscular tissue of the lower abdomen. The slugs had all passed through soft tissue, but didn't seem to have entered or affected the peritoneum, however he was being closely monitored just in case. At the moment he was considered stable and would probably be able to speak to us within hours. Even then only one of us would be allowed in his room at any time and then only for a short period.

Matt had only been shot once, but the bullet had passed within a millimetre of his heart, then had shattered a vertebrae in his spine. While he seemed to be in relatively stable condition, he would likely have major complications because of the spinal injury. However, since he was in surgery at the moment the doctor was unwilling to give me any further information at that time.

Luke had been shot in the right shoulder and in the upper left cheek, just in front of his ear. The shoulder wound had only been a puncture, passing through nothing but soft tissue, so it was minor. The second bullet had done far more damage, passing into his cheek, through his inner ear, then out through the skull again, but removing a small piece of his skull above and behind his left ear. His injuries were consider to be the most serious of the four brothers at that time because his inner ear had been damaged and there might be brain damage. Since it involved brain surgery, his present operation was extremely complex, so I was told that all we could do was wait, hope and pray for the best.

Since we couldn't get in to see any of the guys for a while, we had some lunch, and rented a room at the closest motel, a suite for Mom and the girls, and a single room right across the hall for me. After that I returned to the hospital while Mom took the girls out to do some shopping, but all I could do was sit and wait. After about three hours of sitting on my butt, worrying about what was going to happen to everyone, I was finally able to get in to see Mark and John.

John seemed fully conscious, while Mark seemed only semi-aware of the situation, Actually John was furious about what his father had done and ranted about that until I told him that Bill McAdam had died in an accident while trying to run Sandy and me off the road. Unfortunately neither of them had known that Jackie and Carissa had been killed, but they'd suspected that had been their old man's intention. In fact he had stood over John and Matt after they'd both been shot and rolled into a ditch, raving that he was going to kill their whole family and all of my family as well. Both John and Mark were relieved that he hadn't survived the rollover, but both of them seemed to feel guilty that they'd brought trouble to my family. I had a hard time convincing them that they had no reason to feel any blame, instead all of the blame should rest squarely on the shoulders of their father.

I was only able to spend one night in Edmonton, then I had to hurry back home, because Tom had been injured when he was squeezed against a fence by one of my bulls. For some reason that bull had been overly friendly even as a yearling and had often rubbed up against anyone who cared for him. He was a little rougher with Tom though, actually bruising him badly, so Tom had to be taken in to see the doctor for a checkup to be certain that he didn't have cracked ribs. Unfortunately that was going to leave our family in an even tougher situation, because it meant Tom was unable to do any heavy work for a week or two.

I didn't fly home though, instead I drove back in a year old station wagon that had never left the sales lot, probably because it was an extremely ugly colour. Actually it was something I called 'shit-brindle' brown - which is slightly uglier than 'baby diaper' brown. And I'll admit I used that colour as a club to drive the price of that car down so low I'm not sure the dealer made a buck on the ugly looking thing. I was honest though, I told him, the first chance I had I was going to have it repainted and that was going to cost me money - money which I was deducting from the amount I was willing to pay him. However, I had decided that Sandy needed a new car since she was going to be looking after two kids now and when I called him, even Frank Dolens told me I should buy the car at the price I'd negotiated. When I got behind the wheel to drive home, that car had only had forty-two kilometres on the odometer and I'd probably put on twenty of those while I was testing it out. I will admit that thing cruised down the highway like a limousine and I could pass almost anything on the road except a gas station, but I visited a couple of those on the trip back to the ranch.

I arrived home to find a madhouse in the town of Mountview. Unfortunately the news vultures from all over western Canada had decided that four deaths and four shootings in one fell swoop was big news. as a result it was only a few hours before our little town was inundated by those scavengers. Any members of our family were accosted the moment they tried to walk down the street, but John Coulter, Sandy and I were the main targets of their attempts to pry into the tragedy. I grew extremely tired of having a news camera shoved in my face whenever I went to town, but I tried to ignore those prying scandalmongers. However, when one of the morons tried to force his way into Lucille's house and drove Sandy to tears, I bowled the asshole back out through the door while Lucille called the cops. By the time the RCMP arrived Jerry and I were standing on Lucille and Jerry's front lawn surrounded by five of the damned idiots. Two of the imbecilic cameramen and a reporter were arrested right then and there. I was so angry that I went to see Cyrus, who filed a lawsuit against the three reporters and two cameramen, as well as the news agencies they worked for, suing them all for breaking and entry, invasion of privacy and common assault. It was no surprise that the five blockheads were rushed out of town or that the news agencies quickly offered us an out-of-court cash settlement. Cyrus accepted on our behalf, but we insisted that the money was to be anonymously donated to the local hospital, which defeated the news agencies' attempt to use that donation as a way to get 'a toe in the door' and get an interview.

However after word of what had happened to us was spread around by the local rumour mill, the people of the town of Mountview decided enough was enough and got into the act. Cameramen were 'accidentally' bumped or jostled and if they 'happened' to drop their cameras, the cameras were 'unfortunately' stepped on, kicked flying or tripped over. One cameraman was 'accidentally' knocked down, then his huge camera just happened to get bumped and skidded out into traffic - right in front of the wheels of a passing truck. Any parked cars with a logo from a news agency on the door or a press pass in the window seemed to 'spontaneously' develop flat tires and their windshields were often mysteriously covered in mud or plastered with rotten eggs. Surprisingly no one seemed to witness those acts of vandalism. One obnoxious individual left his car door open when he chased John Coulter into the hospital, but he was blocked at the entrance by the hospital matron. When he returned to his car he discovered that an irate skunk had somehow found its way inside and had taken possession of the front seat. Of course the skunk took offence to his attempts to evict it - with predictable results. Several 'luckier' members of the press found themselves surrounded by crowds of people, all waving notepads in one hand and pencils in the other, with each person asking a variety of inane questions. Thankfully even multiple deaths are only newsworthy for a few days, so within a week our little town was back to relative normality.

With all of the McAdam brothers in the hospital, it fell on Sandy's and my shoulders to arrange a funeral for Jackie, but then John and Wilma Coulter approached us. They thought we should have a very small private service for each of the two girls, then a few days later we'd have a public memorial service for them both. So that's what we planned and eventually what we did. There were only about twenty-five people at the funeral, but there were over a thousand at the memorial, which was held at the race track that Carissa's father and uncle had donated to the town.

Because he knew that the McAdam brothers would have attended if they could, Frank Dolens arranged to have one of Jackie's classmates from high school record both services with his home movie camera. Once the home movie was developed, John Coulter took it to Edmonton to show to the McAdams so they could grieve for Jackie and Carissa. All of us felt very sympathetic toward the guys, but unfortunately there was little we could do to help them right then.

Matt's spinal cord had been severed, so he was paralysed from the chest down by the damage the bullet had done, and the doctors had told him that he'd never be able to walk again. Mark was eventually able to walk with the help of a cane, but he was lucky to have survived the peritonitis that had developed from being gut shot. Luke developed a skewed sense of balance from a fragment of metal that had destroyed his inner ear, then lodged deep in his brain and was inoperable. Initially the McAdam boys were all listed as extremely critical, but were expected to survive, then John developed complications, suffered cardiac arrest and passed away in the hospital. At least Matt, Mark and Luke all survived being shot by their father, but their lives would never be the same.

So eventually there were five deaths from that episode of insanity. Mrs. McAdam had been shot and killed in her home in Calgary. Neither Carissa nor Jackie had survived to reach the hospital. Bill McAdam had died in the accident, with his forehead smashed in and his chest pierced by the steering column of his truck. Then John had died in the hospital in Edmonton the same week his sister was buried.

The night John died, Luke called me to let me know about it, then asked me to perform what I first thought to be a relatively simple request, but it rapidly deteriorated into something else. He wanted me to arrange to have both his mother and John buried in a very simple service, the simplest, most economical service possible. He also asked me to be certain that their service was totally devoid of any overt religious overtones. Then he went on to request that I have his father's body cremated and have his ashes placed in a very cheap clay urn.

I remember his exact words; "We want the bastard cremated and if he died with his boots on, we want you to take them off so the son-of-a-bitch leaves this world in his bare feet. In fact have his body stripped naked and dumped into a cardboard box to be cremated. Afterward we'd like to have his ashes put into the cheapest clay urn you can get your hands on. Then please bring the urn, his clothing, his briefcase and those fucking boots to the hospital for Matt, Mark and me to dispose of. Oh and no prayers, no ceremony, no spectators, nothing, just burn him, then maybe he'll have an idea of what hell is like before he even gets there."

After that he asked me if I would see if I could bring any possessions his father had in the truck with him on the day he died as well. Of course I was certain that I'd have to jump through hoops to get possession that old idiot's property, but I told Luke I'd do my best. First I checked with Cyrus to see how I could do that legally, then I approached Officer Davis to see if he would release Bill McAdam's possessions that had been in his pickup truck. Luckily as far as Don was concerned the whole lot was property he would gladly have me take away since he trusted me to return it to the rightful owners. I was given an old, blued-tin suitcase, a small briefcase filled with real-estate papers and newspaper clippings as well as a ratty looking wallet, but wasn't surprised that everything looked as if it had been checked over by someone. I wasn't given Bill McAdam's rifle, the hunting knife he'd had on his belt or the two sticks of dynamite he'd had in a box under the seat of his truck. Of course I didn't think the guys wanted any of the weaponry anyway. At the mortuary where I'd had him cremated I was given a plastic bag that held a ratty looking pair of cowboy boots and all his carefully folded clothing as well as a cheap clay urn containing the dirty bastard's ashes. I'd never even met the man, but just touching any of his crap gave me the willies.

Before I left for Edmonton with all Bill McAdam's belongings, I had a conversation with Sandy about him and learned more than I really wanted to know. I knew previously that he had been a real-estate agent, but I didn't know he'd also been a real-estate speculator. As well as that, Sandy told me her uncle was suspicious, irritable, depressed, obstinate, jealous, selfish, antisocial and bitter, but on top of that he didn't have a great hold on reality. I was convinced that he'd been paranoid and had trusted no one. Actually he might have been a paranoid schizophrenic, but I'm not a psychologist, so I can't say one way or another.

As if to assure me that he was strange, she added that when he was trying to sell a house or convincing someone to agree with him, he became very slick and smooth, even courteous. She said it happened in the blink of an eye, as if he threw a switch and became a different person - from that point on it seemed he could sell almost any object or concept to almost anyone. In her opinion, Bill McAdam could have been an extremely rich man, had it not been for his less pleasant personality quirks.

To be honest the more I had to do with anything concerning the man, the more I wanted to be finished with the whole episode. I was convinced that the guy was a total nutcase and at the moment I wasn't too certain of his three sons' sanity either. I was even more convinced that they were all as loopy as bed bugs the next day when I delivered Bill McAdam's possessions and ashes to them at the hospital.

When I gave the guys the suitcase, briefcase, boots and urn, they opened the briefcase and glanced through the papers, then opened the suitcase and pulled out all the clothing, throwing it in a pile on the floor. The briefcase, boots and urn were put in the suitcase, then the clothing was glanced through before being stuffed into a plastic garbage bag, but once they'd done that it was all set aside. The only thing they saved out of the clothing I'd gotten from the mortuary was a second wallet they found in a hidden pocket inside his shirt, but it wasn't opened, it was just casually thrown in the suitcase with everything else they'd saved.

Then it seemed as if they wanted to pretend that nothing had happened and their father's possessions simply didn't exist. They asked questions about Sandy and the babies. They asked about what we were doing at the ranch. They asked about Charlie Engels and about Clarence Walker. They asked about Mom and Dad, Wil and Corinna, Beth and George, then Tom, Jess and Jean. They didn't ask about their house, the town, the funerals or anything else that might have brought up any tender subjects. It was almost as if they were trying to ignore the whole tragedy.

As a result I didn't make a big deal out of the fact that I'd had problems following their wishes concerning the funeral and burial of their mother. In actual fact when I went to arrange to have Mrs. McAdam's body shipped to Mountview, so she and John could be buried near Sam and Ann McAdam, I was blocked at every turn, at least until I got the police and my lawyer involved. Eventually I had to have Cyrus provide legal proof that I was a relative of the deceased in order to get her body out of the mortuary in Calgary where Bill McAdam's compatriots had stashed her. Then since the crew of wierdos had mounted a guard at the mortuary, we actually had to spirit the body out of the place, using a restored hearse that was owned by a friend of Frank Dolens. We drove into the mortuary as if we were delivering a corpse to be readied for burial, but we really had a blowup doll under the cloth cover we'd draped over an old ambulance gurney that we wheeled inside. Then while members of the wierd vigilante group had gone back to watching for intruders at front entrance of the mortuary, we rolled the coffin out on the same gurney, slid it into the ambulance and quietly drove away.

We followed Matt and his brothers wishes for the burial, so Sandy, Jess, Jean and I had been the only people who were there to see Mrs. McAdam and John buried and there were no religious overtones in the simple ceremony.

However two days later there were cars with Calgary license plates driving all over town and asking where they could find any members of the McAdam family. Needless to say after what had gone on during the paparazzi blitz, people in Mountview had taken enough crap from outsiders and were somewhat less than cooperative. Some of them just called the RCMP and registered complaints when they grew annoyed with the new batch of intruders, but others took things into their own hands. A local roofer, who'd been repairing a tar and gravel roof, 'accidentally' dropped a bucket of hot tar onto one visitor's car from about fifteen feet up, virtually destroying the roof and interior of a year old Buick convertible. When the RCMP investigated the owners claim that the damage was intentional, they pointed out the car was was illegally parked in a construction zone and said it was an industrial accident. Then John Coulter was called in as the local insurance agent and voided the car owners claim because of the same reason. In another incident a little old lady, working out in her garden, chased two men off her property by waving an electric hedge trimmer in their faces. Her neighbour called the RCMP because poor old Mabel Erskine was being attacked by ruffians in her own garden. Mabel had them charged with trespass and the neighbour was a willing witness who said they'd grabbed Mabel's shoulder, so the police added on a charge of assault and battery as they arrested the pair. Young Jeremy Deevers gave another pair confusing directions that led them down a road which dead ended in a swamp. Then the driver got so badly mired in the mud when he tried to turn back that it took one of Charlie Engels' bulldozers to pull the car out of the mire.

It wasn't long before the RCMP discovered that all of the men were members of the same church as Bill McAdam and what they were after was Bill McAdam's body, but even more than that they wanted his possessions. When an RCMP Officer told them that his body had been turned over to his family so that he could be cremated, the RCMP almost had a riot on their hands. It seems cremation was against their church's basic doctrine, which is probably why Matt and the boys were so adamant that their father's body had to be disposed of in that manner. Then when Officer Davis advised them that all of Bill McAdam's possessions had been turned over to the family as well, a second ruckus had broken out. That's when Davis learned that Bill McAdam had been the treasurer of their church and they suspected that he'd had important financial papers belonging to their church in his possession at the time of his death. Davis just laughed at that, because he'd gone through all of the dead man's possessions and had seen nothing of that sort. I never looked through those papers closely, but I'd only noticed a few real-estate listings, some newspaper clippings and things of that sort, so I had a no idea why any of those papers could have been important. Besides, by that time the briefcase and those papers had been turned over to the McAdams, which I felt was the legal and moral thing to do.

Eventually the McAdam brothers told me they had flushed their father's ashes down the hospital toilet, then smashed the urn into tiny pieces and threw the pieces into the rubbish bin, right along with all of their old man's shredded clothing. I never did find out what they did with that old briefcase, but then I never found out why they wanted their dad's worn-out cowboy boots so badly either, and for some reason I didn't really want to know. After all, you can't be incriminated for your guesses, wishes, day-dreams or suspicions, and I intended to leave things that way. For some reason I had a hunch that ignoring my wild speculations was safer for everyone involved.

The McAdams weren't the only people who suffered from Bill McAdam's killing spree however. The complications of those attacks and all those deaths and injuries were long lasting and wide reaching, affecting the whole local community, not just individuals. The most powerful effects were on the McAdam and Coulter families, but my family was greatly affected as well since all of us had been very close. If anything it drew most of us closer, but it also drove some of us apart.

Wilma Coulter suffered from emotional problems for years after seeing Carissa and Jackie run down and she was never quite the same spirited person as before. Corinna came within a hair of having a miscarriage from the shock, but if anything, Carissa's death brought her and Wil closer together. Sandy and I had to deal with the loss of several friends, and that was complicated by the fact that we suddenly had another child in our home.

Kristina wasn't a happy kid right then either, because even though she was only three months old, Kristina missed her mother. While Sandy was an acceptable substitute to care for her for a short period of time, or to tuck her in for a short nap during the day, I was the only person who could get her to settle down for a night's sleep. Sandy wasn't the only person Kristina rejected as a bed-time cuddler though. At various times Mom tried tucking her in, Beth tried, Wilma tried, Maria tried, Conseula tried, even Corinna tried, but Kristina wanted me to tuck her in every night. If I wasn't there to tuck her in, she'd lay there and fuss, but if I didn't show up to tuck her in fairly soon she'd make louder noises, then even louder sounds, until eventually she was screaming at the top of her lungs. Yet I'd lean over her crib, pick her up and give her a hug and a kiss on the cheek, then tuck her in, she'd mumble a bit then, but a moment or two later she'd be sound asleep. The strange thing was that I had never tucked her into bed before Carissa died.

John and Wilma Coulter both knew about Carissa's wishes and about her will, so they didn't even raise an eyebrow about Sandy and I having custody of Kristina. In fact a few months after Carissa's death they astonished us when they suggested we adopt her, so we did, but in actual fact the Coulters seem to have adopted us. They treated Sandy almost like she was their daughter, and surprisingly that had the effect of drawing Corinna far closer to Sandy than she had been before. Actually I think that tragedy drew most of our family and friends closer together, but it was a heavy price to pay for that small gain in harmony.

The major exception to that harmony appeared in the relationship between Tom and Sandy's sisters, Jean and Jess. Somehow the twins seemed to withdraw from everyone within months of the tragedy and immersed themselves in their studies, essentially splitting from Tom and the whole family. I never did uncover the cause for the breakup, but I do know that Tom could be quite stubborn and so could the twins. Since all three of them were involved in studies in Calgary at the time, we didn't hear much about their lives, only what they chose to tell us. The information we gained from those discussions was exceptionally sparse though. The three of them actively avoided each other for months, but in the long run the twins completed their training and became nurses. Then, only a few years after they'd finished their training, both twins got married. Jean married a dentist who had a practise in Red Deer and Jess married a doctor who worked in the hospital in Innisfail.

Even Sandy's relationship with her sisters deteriorated after they married. Of course Sandy was extremely busy with our kids, while Jess and Jean seemed to be totally absorbed in their studies, then with their jobs and their marriages. They did talk on the phone, but if the twins took time off from their jobs, they headed off to have holidays in distant places. I'm uncertain if the fact that the twins never had any children has any bearing on the subject, but it may well have had something to do with their reaction to our growing family. The few times the twins and their hubbies came to Mountview or we went to visit them were uncomfortable and stilted, so visits between us slowly diminished. Before long we didn't have much interaction with Jess and Jean or their husbands except for best wishes and small gifts on birthdays and holidays.

Tom finished his diesel mechanics course, but as far as I know he didn't date anyone for a year or two after he broke up with the twins. Since he was an exceptionally good diesel mechanic, Charlie Engels and Alan Jeffries hired him to work on their heavy equipment in the winter months when he had less to do on the farm. Eventually Tom married Janis Barker after a very short engagement, and considering the Mountview rumour mill, their engagement and marriage came as astonishing news. That marriage certainly took our family by surprise, because for a time he'd acted as though he had completely sworn off all women. We hadn't even heard any rumours that Tom was dating Janis, but Janice was Emily Jeffries' cousin, so he probably met her while working for Charlie and Allan.

Talking about rumours, I certainly never expected the rumours that surfaced concerning 'Devil' Bill McAdam's death. At least one of those rumours had me using my stock car driving experience to force that asshole off the road and into the ravine. It didn't seem to matter to the rumour mongers that our vehicles had never made contact with each other, or that my car didn't have a scratch on it. I will admit that driving Car 54 taught me to negotiate curves well enough to avoid and escape his attack, but I had nothing more to do with his death. Strangely, people weren't upset about their belief that I'd caused his death though, instead they seemed to be bragging about me, implying in some way that I was some sort of heroic vigilante or something. According to their tales I had avenged the deaths of Jackie and Carissa, as well as the attacks on the McAdam boys.

I couldn't get it across to those people that I was only speeding to get away from him in order to save my family's lives or that Bill McAdam had died because he had reacted with his emotions and ignored common sense. He had tried to do the impossible and physics had bitten him in the butt. He'd ignored the fact that his pickup was more unstable when cornering at high speeds than my car was, so it was physically impossible for his truck to round that curve as fast as my car could. In my opinion Bill McAdam had virtually committed suicide and the RCMP investigation agreed with me. Officer Davis just laughed at the rumours and offered to show the accident investigation pictures to anyone who wanted to see them. Those pictures clearly showed that my car's tire marks had been overlayed by Bill McAdam's tire marks, so he had to be following my car. In other words there was no possible way I could have run him off the road. It didn't seem to matter what those pictures showed though, the facts were ignored and the rumours persisted.

One other complication that I hadn't counted on was the fact that I ended up with two unoccupied ten acre leases on my land, complete with mini-farms. In Carissa and Jackie's case, I was deeded their buildings in their wills, and by then I had offered to cancel both leases and buy out the McAdam brother's investment in buildings and improvements if and when they decided to move away. Still I was surprised at the number of people who approached me about either buying or renting those two mini-farms once people realized that they were now untenanted. However, I told any of those who approached me that I was going to think long and hard about whoever moved in there. I wanted people living there who could afford to lease the properties and at the same time would keep them in good shape. With that in mind, my primary criteria was that they had to have decent funding as well as some farming or ranching experience, but actually I had other requirements in mind as well. More than anything else though I felt I needed people I could trust living on those two hobby farms. However until the McAdam brothers decided what they were going to do with their lease and John Coulter made up his mind what he was going to do with the stock on the other lease, there wasn't much I could do.

By that time I'd made a good start on turning most of the 'Frenchmen's' half into two large hay fields and I'd planted hedges to stop drifting snow along our access road. At the same time the county had planted two rows of caragana hedging with a four foot spacing between the rows and positioned about fifty yards back from the road in order to create a living snow fence. Once those hedges had a few years to thickened up, no one would be able to drive through them easily, so the only easy way into Mile High Ranch would be by way of the gate on our access road. In effect the people living in those two houses would become my gatekeepers and could warn me if anyone dangerous was coming my way. Perhaps I was being paranoid about the idea of being threatened, but after being under attack by both of Sam and Bill McAdam, I was a bit concerned what their associates might do.

I wasn't about to lose any sleep over it or anything, but it was one of those niggling little thoughts that crept into my mind at odd times. However I couldn't afford to waste a lot of time on that sort of thing, so I'd consciously set it aside. I felt I had too many other things to worry about to waste time on that sort of speculation, after all what could those men gain by attacking us? On that score, I was an optimist and doubted that Bill McAdam had all that much influence on the other members of the strange creed they followed.

### Chapter 58