by Carolina Mac
At the first sight of the kids, anger and adrenaline pumped through his veins. Bart reached for the night vision scope on the floor beside his boot. The power was cranked up and when he peered through the lens it seemed like he was only a foot away from them.
The kids were hooting and laughing as the bunch of them scrambled into the big ugly guy’s truck. Something was going down. Big boss plus four kids—all he could fit in the truck at one time. Others stood on the wonky porch waving and grinning.
Bart watched the truck head down the two-track towards the back way into the abandoned park—the same way Bart had come in. He was hidden well back in the dense forest of trees and it was pitch black at midnight. They’d drive right by him and not even notice.
As they passed not twenty feet from him, Bart got a good look at the boss’s truck. Gray Ford with rust spots patched with goo and sanded by hand into an ugly mess. Through the scope he read the plate and scribbled it with a ballpoint on his hand. He’d phone it into the black-haired ranger in case the kid needed it. Herman liked the kid and said so more than once, so Bart knew he was okay.
As soon as the gang was out of earshot, Bart started his truck and followed them along a dirt path through a swampy area. He stayed behind them for about twenty minutes, never losing sight of their tail lights. The truck turned right on the county road that went all the way out to route ninety-five and Bart followed.
At the stop sign, where the county road intersected with the highway, there was a small mom and pop gas station on the corner with a convenience store attached. The neon sign flashed big blue letters. ‘Cookie’s Convenience.’
Bart dropped back and watched. He let the gangers pull into the station first, then he drove in and parked at the pumps like a regular customer. While he watched them, he checked the gas gauge and decided he could use a few gallons.
The bald headed gang boss parked close to the door of the convenience store and as soon as the truck came to a stop, the kids jumped out and ran inside. The boss stayed in the truck with the engine running and from where Bart stood with his hand on the pump hose handle, he saw the boss light up a smoke and blow smoke out the truck window like he was king of the world.
I’ll kill that fucker for Herman.
Another customer drove in, parked and went inside the store. Seconds after that happened, the kids ran out carrying loads of stuff and jumped in the truck. Boss was grinning as he took off like a bat out of hell.
Bart jumped in his own truck and followed close behind as the truck in front of him headed back the same way they’d come. As soon as the truck left route ninety-five, Bart reached into the back seat, grabbed hold of his Remington semi-auto and cranked a shell into the chamber. He leaned out the window and let go three shotgun blasts at the boss’s truck.
He hit both back tires by chance, not because he was a good shot. The boss lost control and the truck slewed off the road into the ditch.
Bart jammed his truck into park and jumped out onto the road while the kids scrambled out of the ditched truck and ran like scared rabbits into the field. He could barely see them as they ran through dead grass out of range of the truck’s headlights. No matter, he could hear them yelling. He kept firing and laid down a shitload of buckshot in their general direction.
“Hope I shot them all in the ass,” he said to Biscuit as he slid behind the wheel. “Let’s go home and eat.” Biscuit wagged his tail.
“We’ll give ‘em hell again tomorrow.”
The Blackmore Agency. Austin.
BLAINE grabbed for his cell and wondered how long he’d been asleep. Seemed like ten fuckin minutes. Who? He checked the screen in the dark and it was DPS.
“Ranger B. this call came in to robbery, but I think it might be your gang of kids. Want to check it out?”
“Sure do, Rocky. You there now?”
“Yeah, ninety-five and county out near Elgin. Cookie’s Convenience.”
“Anybody dead?”
“Old lady stabbed. Ambulance took her.”
“Fuck that.”
Blaine rolled out of bed and before hitting the shower, he opened the door of the room next to his and woke Farrell up. “We’re up, bro. Kyle’s kids stabbed an old lady.”
“Fuck that.”
Cookie’s Convenience. Elgin.
A HALF HOUR later, Blaine and Farrell arrived at the store on the far side of Austin. Ranger Rockford—Rocky—met them at the door and told them the couple who owned the business, Mr. and Mrs. Costello, were in their late sixties and were almost ready to retire.
Mr. Costello sat in his office at the back of the store, his head in his hands, his face tear-stained. The door was open, but Blaine knocked anyway.
“Mr. Costello, I’m Blaine Blackmore from the violent crime unit, and I’d like you to tell me exactly what happened.”
He pointed and said, “I told Ranger Rockford already.”
Blaine turned on the recorder and placed it on the corner of the desk. “Tell me again, if you don’t mind.”
Mr. Costello nodded. “I was here in the office doing the daily receipts and getting ready to close up when I heard my wife scream. I ran down the hallway and saw the kid with the knife stab her over and over while the others grabbed handfuls of stuff off the shelves. I wasn’t watching them and didn’t care what they took. I ran to Cookie and made a grab for the kid with the knife, but he knocked me down and took off out the door…” Mr. Costello stopped and took a couple of deep breaths, then rubbed his chest. “Cookie was lying by the sandwich cooler covered in blood and my heart almost stopped beating. I was calling 911 on the phone by the cash when another customer came in and as soon as the kids saw him, they ran.”
“Did the witness stay to help you?”
Mr. Costello shook his head. “When he saw it was a robbery in progress, he beat it.”
“Did you know him?”
“Nope. Never saw him before.”
“Anything else you can think of?” asked Blaine.
“After I called 911, I ran back to Cookie—I didn’t know what in hell to do for her—and she had passed out or fainted. I ran to the door to watch for the ambulance and that’s when I heard the shots.”
Blaine raised an eyebrow. “Gunshots? Could you tell which direction the shots were coming from?”
Mr. Costello pointed. “Down the road that way, and not too far either. Maybe on the county road. Sounded like a shotgun to me.”
“Shotgun.” Blaine nodded. “Hang on for a second, Mr. Costello.” He stepped into the hall and hollered for Farrell. “Mr. Costello heard gunshots maybe as close as the next road over that way. You and Rocky check it out.”
“Roger that, boss.”
Blaine came back and found Mr. Costello wiping his eyes.
“Was there a customer at the pumps when you looked for the ambulance?”
“Didn’t see anybody, but there might have been earlier. I was in the back until Margaret—I call her ‘Cookie’ screamed.”
“Do you have security cameras, sir?”
He nodded. “One that rotates inside and one outside facing the gas pumps.”
“Would you mind if forensics borrowed the tapes?”
“Nope. I want to catch the little bastards.”
“Would you like a ride to the hospital to see your wife, sir?” asked Blaine. “I can have a squad car take you.”
“Yes, please. Will you fellows lock up?”
“The techs will be here soon, and they won’t be done for hours. The store will be secure. You can count on it.”
FARRELL drove to the first side line with Rocky in the passenger seat. He made a right and a hundred yards down the road his headlights shone on a truck in the ditch.
After a quick examination, Rocky said, “Lot of buckshot in the truck, Donovan. Maybe there’s some in the kids too.”
“Hope so. They’ll have to come out of their hole then, won’t they?”
“Either that, or bleed to death,” said Rocky. “One or the ot
her.”
Farrell called the forensic garage for a tow and provided them with directions. Then he took his Maglite and searched the field the kids had run through. They were long gone, but the dogs might pick up a trail—if he had the dogs. He’d call Jesse first thing and work the field.
The Blackmore Agency. Austin.
BLAINE BARELY closed his eyes and his cell rang on the dresser. He woke and realized he was lying on top of the duvet in his clothes. He hadn’t even taken his boots off. “Shit, I can’t reach my phone from here.”
He sat up, grunted and walked the two steps to the dresser. “Cat, spill it.”
“Were you sleeping?”
“Out all night, and no, I wasn’t having fun.”
“Sorry, sweetie, didn’t mean to wake you. I was wondering about the deposition today at one. Are you picking me up?”
“Shit, I forgot about it and no, I can’t. I’m up to my ass in stuff. Get Gene to drive to Coulter-Ross and I’ll meet you there. Jesse is meeting us there too. Annie knows we’re coming, and Mr. Robertson will be ready.”
“Okay, I’ll see you there. Sorry I woke you.”
“Don’t be. I have to get up.”
FARRELL MET Blaine in the hallway as he headed for the stairs. “I’m gonna phone Jesse and ask him to bring the dogs to Coulter-Ross, then Travis and I can work the field near the convenience store while you’re Dogging it.”
“I’m too tired to laugh, but yeah, good idea. Do it.”
Coulter-Ross Ranch. La Grange.
DOUGIE sat naked on the marble bench in Annie’s shower while she washed him and shampooed his thick dark mop of hair. She’d covered his right thigh in plastic, so the bandages wouldn’t get soaked.
“I feel a hundred times better,” said the Dog while she dried his hair. “Being naked in your shower has certain rewards of its own.”
Annie leaned down and kissed him. “You’re the center of attention today, and I want you to look good. The Governor’s a bit of a ho and she’ll be salivating when she sees you. Your tight abs and all those bulging muscles are going to be a big turn on for her.”
Dougie grinned and shook his head. “You’re shitting me. The Governor? Can’t see that happening.”
“Fifty,” said Annie. “Fifty bucks she makes a remark, winks at you, or says she needs your number.”
Dougie snorted. “You’re killing me, girl. Never happen, but sure, I’ll go for the easy fifty.”
“They’re arriving at one. Jesse will be here before that because he’s bringing Charity and he’ll want to get her settled before we start.”
“Be best if he didn’t see me in your bathroom.”
Annie smiled. “He moved out of my bathroom as well as my bedroom, so what can he say?”
“Plenty. He’s a fuckin Texas Ranger. He must be tough.”
“Always in dust-ups at Boots. He’s a scrapper.”
“Think I could take him?” asked the Dog.
“You kidding me? You’re the Dog. You can take anybody. But at this point in time, not just you but anybody could take Jesse. He hasn’t regained his strength after his last heart attack, but he’s going to a new doctor and he’s working through it. He’s better than he’s been in a while.”
“He’s gonna want you back,” said the Dog. “As soon as he’s… up and running again.”
“Nope. One too many rounds for me and I can’t take any more heartache. We’re done.”
“You sure?”
“Positive.”
JESSE parked in front of the garage at Coulter-Ross and let Red and Bluebelle out of the Range Rover. Farrell was picking them up later. He knocked on Annie’s door at twelve forty-five with Charity in his arms. “Hey, Ace, you all set up for us?”
Annie reached for the baby and kissed her face. “Yep, coffee’s on, pecan tarts are baked, and the office is clean.”
“Your house is always clean,” said Jesse. “I’m a bit nervous because Catherine’s coming.”
“Catherine?” Annie smirked. “You getting it on with the red-head?”
“Fuck no.” Jesse made a face and Annie giggled.
“I’ll give Charity to Sarah. Dougie is in the office already if you want to have a preliminary chat with him.”
“Yeah, I do,” said Jesse. “I’ll get started.”
The Dog sat in a leather chair in the seating area, his leg propped up on an ottoman.
Jesse came through the open door and sat down on the sofa next to Dougie’s chair. “How’s the leg?”
“Ain’t worth a flying fuck,” growled the Dog.
Jesse eyed the crutches leaning against the wall and said, “Those things are a pain in the ass too.”
Dougie nodded.
“Governor Campbell will be here soon. Before she was elected Governor of Texas, she was on the bench. She’s a judge and before that an attorney. She’ll make an excellent witness.”
The Dog tilted his head. “You hard for her?”
Jesse’s lip curled a little. “That will never happen.”
The Dog’s eyes narrowed as he turned to face Jesse. “You lied when you told me Annie was your wife. How can I trust you when I know you’re a liar?”
Shit. This guy is going to give me a hard time.
“She was my wife. I divorced her in a fit of anger and maybe I made a mistake. I still think of her as my wife because we may get back together.”
“Not what she says.”
Jesse felt heat prickling the back of his neck. “Why does my marital status matter to you, Mr. Robertson?”
As if I don’t know.
“It matters.”
Blaine came through the door with Governor Campbell, her Security Agent, Gene Wyman, followed by Annie with the coffee tray.
Annie set the tray on the coffee table in front of the leather sofa, closed the office door and took a seat behind her desk, leaving the seating area to the others.
Blaine made the introductions. “Dougie, this is Governor Campbell, and Special Agent Gene Wyman, her security detail.”
Dougie nodded and shook hands with Cat.
“I Googled you, Mr. Robertson, and you have quite a reputation,” said Catherine. She sat down beside Jesse and crossed her legs. She wore her red hair long and loose today and it brushed her shoulders when she moved. Her suit of the day was black Versace.
“I earned it,” growled the Dog.
Blaine opened his briefcase and took the chair at the opposite end of the table. He poured himself a coffee and added cream. “I have a list of questions that were given to me and I’ll record Dougie’s answers, and that will be it. Governor Campbell is the official witness.”
“After I answer these questions my life won’t be worth a flying fuck,” said the Dog. “Not that it’s worth too much anyway.”
“The deal you made,” said Jesse, “was to answer the questions—any that you could—in return for immunity from the ATF.”
“I know what the deal was,” the Dog’s lip curled in a snarl. “I’m not fuckin brain dead.”
“Let’s get started,” said Blaine. “I’ve got teenage murderers to catch.”
For the next hour, Dougie answered dozens of questions about border crossings. How the club got the drugs and guns across. Which crossing points were vulnerable and why. Which customs officials were on the cartel’s payroll, and on and on. After the border questions, Blaine moved on to questions directly related to the cartels. Top people in each of the cartels that the B team dealt with, contact numbers if he had them—he didn’t—they had taken his phone when they took his weapons.
Blaine finished and turned off the recorder. He stood up and shook Dougie’s hand. “Thank you for cooperating, sir, that was good information.”
Dougie let out the breath he was holding. “I’m glad it’s over.”
AFTER Governor Campbell left with Gene Wyman, Blaine sat at the island in Annie’s kitchen and called Hammer’s cell. “Did you find her yet?”
“Hell, no, boss. But
I’m looking hard. Checking all the decent hotels. I’m working from a list. Any idea of her favorites or anything?”
“Shit no, I’m sorry. I should know, but I don’t.”
“I’ll keep looking,” said Hammer. “Later.”
Blaine tried Misty’s cell again and she didn’t answer. He was cursing silently at himself when an unknown number came on his screen.
“I have your card, Ranger Blackmore from yesterday. This is Elizabeth Betteridge.” Her voice was high-pitched like she might be on verge of hysteria.
“How can I help you, ma’am?”
“My son, Elliott, called. He doesn’t know where he is, but he’s been shot and a man he called his boss won’t take him to the hospital. He stole a phone to call me and he can’t get away from wherever he is.” Mrs. Betteridge stifled a sob. “Other kids are shot too.”
“Call him back and try to get more information. We have to find them.”
Now, he’s calling his mother. She’s a last resort.
“He said they were moving soon,” said Mrs. Betteridge, “How will we ever find him?”
“We’re searching, Mrs. Betteridge. We have dogs on them now. I’ll call you.”
Blaine pressed end and ran out to his truck.
Field near Cookie’s Convenience. Elgin.
FARRELL AND TRAVIS let Red and Bluebelle out of Farrell’s Silverado at the edge of the field where Kyle Teckford’s truck had gone into the ditch. It had been towed to the impound yard, but the spot where it had been stuck was clearly visible—a mass of ruts, mud and matted grass.
“How do you want to do this?” asked Travis.
“Let’s just let them relax and sniff around where the kids bailed out of the truck and hope they pick up a scent,” said Farrell.
“Got evidence bags on you in case we find something?” asked Travis.
Farrell nodded. He stood at the edge of the ditch while Red poked his nose into the long grass. February, so most of the grass was brown and dry.