hiding place where he could enjoy some female company until things quieted down.
Â
Â
Chief Deputy Clayton Istee of the Lincoln County S.O. saturated his jurisdiction with every available resource in an attempt to find and capture Craig Larson. All sworn department personnel were called back to duty, including one deputy who willingly cut short his vacation in California and flew home to join the manhunt. All municipal and city police officers eagerly joined in, as did district state police personnel, game and fish officers, Forest Service and Bureau of Land Management officers, several New Mexico livestock inspectors, and dozens of local volunteers who were enraged about the murder of Janette Evans and the paralyzing injury to Paul Hewitt.
Even Sergeant Rudy Aldrich of the Lincoln County S.O., who was also the Republican Party candidate for sheriff in the November general election, had managed to set aside partisan politics for the time being and give his full attention to the manhunt.
Several area ranchers with private planes were flying aerial reconnaissance missions with volunteer spotters over the vast tracts of open range and the thousands of square miles of remote high country. Sheriffâs posse reserve officers were out on horseback riding into remote canyons, through large, dense cactus flats, and up dry arroyos and draws looking for any sign of recent foot or vehicle passage.
Clayton ran the manhunt from his unit. As time allowed, he knocked on doors in rural areas to ask if anyone had seen Janette Evansâs truck, backed up officers doing searches of abandoned or vacant properties, and spelled officers for breaks at the various roadblocks set up around the county. With each passing hour the odds of catching Larson decreased, and the continued massive effort to find him was based solely on a hope and a prayer that he might have gone to ground in Lincoln County.
An hour before dusk on the third day of the search, Clayton stopped at the diner on Capitanâs main drag, got a container of coffee to go, returned to his unit, and went over a computer printout that showed all the rural locations that had been canvassed so far. On the slight chance that a hint of Larsonâs whereabouts might have been missed during the first go-round, Clayton had ordered another heavy concentration of close patrols in areas with remote ranches, vacation cabins, or second homes, at all forest campgrounds, at mountain trailheads, and along river bottomland, especially near Fort Stanton, where there were caves that could be used to hide out.
Heâd divided the county into sectors to be covered, and assigned all but one to his deputies. He had taken the Fort Stanton area for himself, and had just spent the last four hours tromping along the Bonita River searching the caves.
Before driving home for dinnerâit would be the first meal with the family since Paul Hewitt had been shot and Janette Evans killedâhe decide to check the Twin Pines Adventure Bible Camp at the base of the Capitan Mountains. He finished his coffee, drove east on Highway 380 to the county road turnoff, and made his way along the rolling, juniper-studded rangeland to the Bible camp.
When Clayton had first joined the Lincoln County S.O. as a patrol deputy, heâd made it a point to introduce himself to as many rural residents as possible during his work shifts. After his initial visit to the Bible camp, heâd looked up the citation posted on the gate and found that it basically said that Jesus had suffered on the cross to give mankind the opportunity to live a righteous life healed from sin.
A nominal Christian like most Apaches, Clayton wasnât all that comfortable with the notion of a single, all-powerful deity. The traditional religion of the Mescalero was a personal, family, and tribal matter, not a theology to spread hither and yon.
The camp had been quite an eye-opener for Clayton. It operated year-round, but summer was
Â
Â
Chief Deputy Clayton Istee of the Lincoln County S.O. saturated his jurisdiction with every available resource in an attempt to find and capture Craig Larson. All sworn department personnel were called back to duty, including one deputy who willingly cut short his vacation in California and flew home to join the manhunt. All municipal and city police officers eagerly joined in, as did district state police personnel, game and fish officers, Forest Service and Bureau of Land Management officers, several New Mexico livestock inspectors, and dozens of local volunteers who were enraged about the murder of Janette Evans and the paralyzing injury to Paul Hewitt.
Even Sergeant Rudy Aldrich of the Lincoln County S.O., who was also the Republican Party candidate for sheriff in the November general election, had managed to set aside partisan politics for the time being and give his full attention to the manhunt.
Several area ranchers with private planes were flying aerial reconnaissance missions with volunteer spotters over the vast tracts of open range and the thousands of square miles of remote high country. Sheriffâs posse reserve officers were out on horseback riding into remote canyons, through large, dense cactus flats, and up dry arroyos and draws looking for any sign of recent foot or vehicle passage.
Clayton ran the manhunt from his unit. As time allowed, he knocked on doors in rural areas to ask if anyone had seen Janette Evansâs truck, backed up officers doing searches of abandoned or vacant properties, and spelled officers for breaks at the various roadblocks set up around the county. With each passing hour the odds of catching Larson decreased, and the continued massive effort to find him was based solely on a hope and a prayer that he might have gone to ground in Lincoln County.
An hour before dusk on the third day of the search, Clayton stopped at the diner on Capitanâs main drag, got a container of coffee to go, returned to his unit, and went over a computer printout that showed all the rural locations that had been canvassed so far. On the slight chance that a hint of Larsonâs whereabouts might have been missed during the first go-round, Clayton had ordered another heavy concentration of close patrols in areas with remote ranches, vacation cabins, or second homes, at all forest campgrounds, at mountain trailheads, and along river bottomland, especially near Fort Stanton, where there were caves that could be used to hide out.
Heâd divided the county into sectors to be covered, and assigned all but one to his deputies. He had taken the Fort Stanton area for himself, and had just spent the last four hours tromping along the Bonita River searching the caves.
Before driving home for dinnerâit would be the first meal with the family since Paul Hewitt had been shot and Janette Evans killedâhe decide to check the Twin Pines Adventure Bible Camp at the base of the Capitan Mountains. He finished his coffee, drove east on Highway 380 to the county road turnoff, and made his way along the rolling, juniper-studded rangeland to the Bible camp.
When Clayton had first joined the Lincoln County S.O. as a patrol deputy, heâd made it a point to introduce himself to as many rural residents as possible during his work shifts. After his initial visit to the Bible camp, heâd looked up the citation posted on the gate and found that it basically said that Jesus had suffered on the cross to give mankind the opportunity to live a righteous life healed from sin.
A nominal Christian like most Apaches, Clayton wasnât all that comfortable with the notion of a single, all-powerful deity. The traditional religion of the Mescalero was a personal, family, and tribal matter, not a theology to spread hither and yon.
The camp had been quite an eye-opener for Clayton. It operated year-round, but summer was
Similar Books
