Dog

by Carolina Mac

  The bathroom door opened, a cloud of steam seeped into the room and the Dog came limping out wrapped in a towel. “You should take a shower.”

  “What for? I don’t have any clean clothes.”

  “Makes you feel better.”

  “Bullshit,” hollered Neil. “I won’t feel better until I get away from you and get home.”

  The Dog grinned. “You don’t like my company? Your beautiful mama likes it. Want to hear some of the details?”

  “No. Uncuff me. My arm hurts.”

  “Shut up. You can sit there until I’m ready to go. Won’t be long now.”

  Bastrop. Texas.

  BLAINE AND FLETCH were on their way to Bastrop to the campground when the Chief called. “Yes, sir. What’s up?”

  “DPS is wondering about the BOLO on Bart’s truck. They’re saying it’s still parked at the blue barn. Never moved since they last called it in.”

  “Shit, okay,” said Blaine. “As soon as we eyeball the campers, we’ll go straight to the barn and check on Bart.”

  Saint Michael’s Hospital. Austin.

  JESSE received the call from Lily right after breakfast and headed into the city. He had an appointment with his new doctor at one o’clock anyway, so stopping off at Saint Mike’s wasn’t a problem.

  He inquired at the reception desk in the lobby and asked for the room number of a Mr. Alec Friedman, the name Lil had given him.

  “Mr. Friedman is on the third floor, sir,” said the volunteer in the pale green uniform. “the elevators are right down that hallway.”

  Jesse knew where the elevators were, he’d been in that hospital so many times for countless reasons, but he thanked her anyway.

  On the third floor, he passed the nurses’ station and had almost reached the door of Mr. Friedman’s room when a woman came out of the room sobbing. A nurse was escorting her somewhere down the hall.

  Jesse stuck his head in the room and saw a doctor talking to another nurse. A blanket was pulled up over the head of the patient. Mr. Friedman was dead.

  Jesse retreated to the coffee shop on the main floor, sat at a table and called Blacky. “Mr. Friedman died just as I got here.”

  “Jesus Murphy,” hollered Blaine. “That’s another one.”

  “Where are you now?” asked Jesse.

  “Crossing the bridge in Bastrop. I’m gonna see if the East Enders are the ones in the RV. If they are, I’m organizing a takedown.”

  “Let me know. I want to be there.”

  Bastrop Campground.

  BLAINE TURNED off the highway on the other side of the river where the sign pointed into the campground.

  “Do they know your truck, boss?” asked Fletcher. “Should we… like park a little way back and sneak up on ‘em?”

  “Uh huh. Might be a better plan. They do know my truck.”

  “How do we know which spot they’re in?”

  Blaine stopped at the office just inside the gate. “We’ll find out.”

  The man behind the counter looked up when Blaine and Fletch came through the door. “Full up. No spots. Sorry.” He went back to doing his crossword.

  Blaine slapped his creds on the counter and said, “I’d like some information, please, Mr.…?”

  “Wardle, Carl Wardle.”

  “Mr. Wardle, I’d like you to tell me if you have a campsite rented to a man who looks like this.” Blaine pushed the eight by ten of Kyle Teckford across the counter. “He has an RV and he’d have a bunch of kids with him.”

  Wardle stared at Teckford’s mug shot for about thirty seconds. “Don’t think so.”

  “Look again. It would be in your best interest to get this person out of your park. He could endanger other campers.”

  Wardle shrugged. Blaine could tell the man was lying, but why? Had Teckford threatened him?

  “An obstruction charge and a fine will cost more than Teckford is paying you, sir,” said Blaine. “Think about it.”

  Wardle had clammed up and was saying no more.

  “Let’s go,” said Blaine.

  “I think he was lying,” said Fletch as he jumped into the truck. “Why would he protect a killer?”

  “Teckford might have bribed him… or threatened him,” said Blaine. “Some people are easily scared off.” He drove slowly along the narrow dirt trail that wound through all of the sites. “Keep your eyes open.”

  Fletcher had his window down and concentrated on his side of the road. Some of the vehicles, truck campers, tents and soft top trailers were hard to spot, they were buried so deep in the trees. “I see a huge RV down near the river. Think that’s it?”

  “See any kids?”

  “Yep. Four of them sitting outside at the picnic table.”

  Blaine parked. “Let’s go talk to them.”

  La Quinta Hotel. Blythe. California.

  ANNIE sat on a wrought iron bench under a tree directly across from the hotel entrance. It was a small garden area that belonged to the hotel for use by guests wanting to read or relax outside. Anyone coming out the front door couldn’t miss seeing her.

  Travis watched the rear entrance and they’d double checked to make sure there were only the two exits.

  Farrell was hidden from sight, perched on a tree branch above Annie’s head, directly across from the front doors.

  The day was cloudy and cool. There would be no reflections to worry about.

  They were ready.

  NEIL WATCHED the Dog tug his boots on and almost felt sorry for the asshole. His leg was worse. Neil knew the Dog had been walking on it way too much and he was no doctor, but anybody could tell by the Dog’s face how much pain he was in.

  Once the Dog was dressed, he limped over and uncuffed Neil from the air conditioner and cuffed him to his own thick wrist. He grinned as he clicked the cuff shut. “You’re with me kid. For better or worse. If they try to double-cross me, they’ll kill you too.” The Dog had a chuckle over that one.

  “Aren’t you using the crutches?” asked Neil.

  “Can’t risk it. Getting all tangled up in those things might get me killed.”

  “Okay. I see your point.” Neil had to walk alongside the Dog and a little in front. Choices were limited with them chained together.

  The Dog stuck his head out the door of the room and waited until there was no one in the hallway on their floor before venturing out and heading for the elevator. Standing close together the cuffs weren’t too obvious unless Neil chose to make them that way.

  I’ll go along for the ride because the ride will soon be over.

  The Dog limped off the elevator when the doors opened at ground level and Neil tried to keep in step, so the chain wouldn’t pull on his wrist and the gun wouldn’t poke him anymore than it was already doing. One redeeming factor, the crippled Dog walked slow—turtle slow.

  “Why are you so fuckin quiet?” asked the Dog.

  “What good would hollering and assholing around do? You’ve got a gun in my ribs and it might go off.”

  “So true.” The Dog grinned as they passed through the lobby.

  Neil opened the inner glass door and tried not to register the relief he felt when he saw Annie sitting on the bench across from the entrance.

  DOUGIE SUCKED in a breath when he saw Annie sitting on the bench but tried not to show his surprise. “Hey, there’s my beautiful woman,” said the Dog. “She couldn’t wait to see me at the hospital parking lot, so she tracked me down. She’s a smart one.”

  “Yeah, she is,” said Neil. “That’s probably your money in the duffel bag beside her.”

  “Wouldn’t count on it, kid. She’s a tricky one.”

  Neil opened the second door with his free hand and Dougie pressed the barrel of the Beretta harder into the kid’s ribs. If he was going down, he was taking Annie’s kid with him. Just the way it was.

  There was no sun in the sky as they stepped outside, but the day was warm. Annie stood up with a big smile on her face.

  NEIL KNEW it was coming, yet
when it came he was startled. Neil knew Farrell better than he knew himself. They’d been together all their lives looking after each other. Neil knew the drill. How many times had Farrell made him practice?

  Even after they got lucky and Annie took them off the streets of San Angelo, they practiced. Neil protested every time that he didn’t need to practice any more and still Farrell made him do it.

  What to do if?

  Kidnapping was a possibility. Annie was rich. It had happened to Jackson. It had happened to Blacky. It had never happened to Farrell or Neil. Not until now.

  Annie was in position and Neil knew they were set. He had to do his part.

  He pulled the door open and the Dog prodded him forward with the gun pressed tightly into his ribs.

  Annie smiled, and Neil dropped to the pavement. The same nanosecond Neil dropped, he heard the shot.

  Without making a sound, the Dog crashed down beside him. Still attached by the wrist—but dead. No time to pull the trigger and kill Neil. Farrell was too fast for the Dog. A bullet in the middle of the Dog’s forehead.

  Dead Dog.

  FARRELL JUMPED down out of the tree and ran across the hotel driveway to help Neil up. His brother was still chained by his wrist to the Dog. “You okay, bro?”

  Neil nodded. “A little winded. The Dog is heavy, but I’m fine.” He managed a smile for Farrell. “Better than I’ve been since I left the ranch.” He glanced at his shirt and his arms and his jeans, “Well, except for the blood.”

  Farrell knelt down and searched the pockets of the Dog’s jeans and pulled out the key to the cuffs. He unlocked Neil’s cuff and winced at the gouge deep in the skin of his brother’s wrist. The cuffs had dug in real good when Neil dove onto the pavement.

  “We’ll get that fixed up, said Farrell. “Soon as we get clear of the locals, we’re out of here.”

  Annie sobbed as she held Neil in her arms. “I’m so sorry, baby. This was a mistake on my part.” She glared down at the dead Dog lying at their feet. “Not my regular job and I botched it up good. Won’t happen again.”

  Bastrop Campground. Texas.

  BLAINE AND FLETCH strolled casually towards the picnic table where the young boys were playing cards. “Hey, guys, how’s your day going?”

  “Cops,” hollered one of the kids and they scattered in all directions.

  “Shit,” said Blaine. He grabbed the closest one and cuffed him as he hollered, “Catch any that you can, Fletch.”

  “What’s going on out here?” Teckford was at the door with a shotgun in his hand. “My boys haven’t done nothin. You best be getting off our campsite.”

  Mr. Hick’s shotgun.

  “Mr. Teckford, you’re under arrest on suspicion of murder,” hollered Blaine. He aimed his Beretta at Teckford’s head. “Put down the gun.”

  Teckford laughed. “That won’t be happening, kid cop.” He ducked inside and slammed the door.

  Blaine called it in. He needed more people.

  Fletch came back with another kid. “Only caught one.”

  “Cuff him to the water tap with this one,” said Blaine. “Teckford’s inside. I called for backup.”

  Blaine edged towards the back of the RV staying low in front of the windows. He was almost ready to round the back corner when Teckford blasted out the back door on the run.

  “Stop or I’ll shoot,” Blaine gave the warning as Teckford ran towards a thicket of bushes. Teckford never slowed down. Blaine pulled the trigger three times in succession.

  With a loud grunt, Teckford fell on his face in the grass. One of the kids ran back and helped him up and they ran towards the river.

  Sirens sounded on the road and Blaine had to go back. On the run he phoned Jesse. “Need the dogs at the campground in Bastrop. Teckford’s on the run. I hit him. I’m pretty sure.”

  “Hope you hit him good,” said Jesse.

  “Not good enough.”

  La Quinta Hotel. Blythe. California.

  SIRENS WAILED INTO the drive-through area at the front of the hotel. The local sheriff arrived on the scene with two backup units. Curious guests of the hotel had surged through the front doors moments after the shot, wanting to be among the first to be horrified by the sight of the dead Dog on the pavement.

  “What happened? Is there a murderer loose?” Questions they shouted while making a video of the half-headed Dog for YouTube or their Facebook page.

  Farrell blocked the entrance and herded them back inside with a warning. “Y’all stay inside until the crime scene people are done out front. Hear me?”

  “What if we need to go out to the parking lot?”

  He hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “Use the other exit.”

  The manager on duty stuck her head out and Farrell had to repeat himself. “Make the other exit available for the guests,” he said. “This will take a couple of hours.”

  Sheriff Bob Dunsmore was six feet tall, bald and close to three hundred pounds. Might not have passed a physical in the past few months. He stood beside his squad, stared at the big Dog’s corpse with half a head missing and said, “Somebody explain this to me.”

  Farrell showed his creds and the Sheriff nodded. “Okay Ranger Donovan, you’re up.”

  Farrell gave a capsule version of the Dog kidnapping Neil, and how they had ended up in Blythe. Then Annie, Neil and Travis gave statements pertaining only to the shooting on Sheriff Dunsmore’s turf. The Medical Examiner arrived and hauled the corpse off to the morgue, and all that was left of Dougie the Dog Robertson was a nasty stain on the pavement.

  Annie rallied the boys and took them to the local barbeque establishment for some nourishment. “We’ll have a good lunch, a couple of beers, then plan the fastest way home.”

  “I’ve got to get back,” said Farrell, “and so does Trav. Blacky’s in the middle of something big and he’s way short on manpower.”

  Annie ordered a round of draft, then said to Farrell, “I think you and Travis should fly home today and help Blaine. Neil and I will drive your truck home. Give Neil a chance to unwind and give me two days to say I’m sorry.”

  “Mom, you already said ‘sorry’ a dozen times. And you didn’t know the Dog was gonna go off the trolley. How could you?”

  “I know bikers, and what liars they are and always have been. I should have guessed.”

  The server came to take their order and the boys were all up for steak, ribs and potato wedges.

  “Think we can get a flight out of Blythe?” asked Travis.

  “Take a charter, and if you can’t, I’ll have my jet come from Powell Corp. and pick you up. Won’t take long for them to get here from San Antonio.”

  “Sometimes I forget we have like a big mega corporation and a plane, Mom,” said Neil. “Lot’s of times I forget we’re rich.”

  “Not something to dwell on, honey. Doesn’t make us better people.” Annie shrugged. “It just happened. We’re ordinary people who happen to have a few extra dollars. That’s what I’d call it.”

  Travis smiled at her. “Queen of understatement.”

  Medical Building. Downtown Austin.

  JESSE sat in front of Doctor Wagner’s desk after his examination and marveled at how relaxed and stress free he felt. Was it her, or the supplements, or the regimen of rest and exercise she held him to?

  A beautiful woman with short platinum hair and green eyes, he wondered how old she was. Did it matter?

  “Tell me about your daughter. Are you lifting her now with less stress on your breathing?”

  Jesse nodded. “She’s growing and getting heavier all the time, but I have to admit it seems easier to pick her up.”

  Dr. Wagner laughed. “Why would you not want to admit it?”

  Jesse grinned. “I’m thinking I wouldn’t want to admit it at the dinner table in front of my brother.”

  “Doctor Quantrall, the surgeon?”

  Jesse nodded. “He has his own ideas about what I should be doing to regain my health.”

  “Regai
n in your case is not possible unless you rebuild first. We talked about the reasons for that.”

  “We did.”

  Jesse’s phone was on vibrate and he felt it in his pocket. “Could you give me a minute to listen to this message?”

  She nodded and watched him as he listened.

  “I need the dogs at the park, Jesse. Teckford is running and I think I hit him.”

  Jesse nodded and stood up. “I have a situation.” He called Blacky back and paced across the room to the window wall. “I’m in the city, I’ll get Ty to run them down to y’all.”

  “Even better,” said Blaine. “Stay in town. I sent two more kids to headquarters. Print them and see what you can get out of them.”

  “Yep, I’m on my way there now,” said Jesse. “Chief know the kids are coming?”

  “Haven’t had time to call.”

  “I’ll do it.”

  The doctor smiled when Jesse put his phone back in his pocket and apologized.

  “I’m sure you have a lot of situations. You didn’t get in the physical shape you’re in by lying in a hammock and drinking mojitos.”

  Jesse grinned and realized how much he enjoyed her company and her sense of humor. “This is an ongoing case, so I can’t talk about it, but we’re close to bringing down the East Enders.”

  “Oh, that gang of kids. Is that your case, Ranger Quantrall? I’ve read about it in Mary Polito’s column.”

  He nodded. “You can call me Jesse.”

  “Thank you, Jesse. Let me walk you out.”

  Jesse walked to the Range Rover with a brown bag full of supplements under his arm and called Tyler. “Hey, bro, can you do me a huge favor?”

  “Okay, just finishing lunch.”

  “Take the dogs to the campground by the river in Bastrop. Blacky needs them.”

  “You meeting me there?”

  “Am not. I have to do interviews at DPS, but the boys are there waiting for you.”

  Blythe Airport. California.

  AT A PRIVATE air strip outside of Blythe, Annie chartered a plane to fly Travis and Farrell back to Texas. They’d be tired, but back to help Blaine by late afternoon or early evening.