by Carolina Mac
“Copy that.”
As soon as the building was empty, the fire department turned their hoses on it and put out the fire.
“Get out of here, Mom, before the TV people come,” said Farrell. “Show the boys the way to headquarters and leave them. You and Mick go home from there.”
“Okay.” Annie got the boys rounded up and escorted them to DPS to wait for Farrell.
Friday, January 13th.
3:00 a.m.
Ranger Headquarters. Austin.
ANNIE parked her bike at the back of the building. “Y’all go in the back door. Look for the lunch room and make a coffee while you wait for Farrell and the prisoners.”
Billy was hyped. “Never had so much fun in my whole life. My running could be better, though. Think I’ll start running a couple miles every morning.”
“I do,” said Annie. “Pays off when you’re on a job.”
Billy nodded approvingly. “You are in perfect shape, Annie. Can’t argue with that.”
“No, ma’am,” said Cody. “Perfect shape.”
Annie laughed. “Thanks for that. You boys get some sleep then come to the ranch at two. We’ll get a couple of hours practice in at the airstrip in the afternoon.”
“Yep. Two at the ranch,” said Cody.
3:00 a.m.
Draga Clubhouse. Austin.
MEDIA closed in on the narrow street as Carlos and Farrell helped the uniformed officers load the gangers into the bus for transport. Reporters yelled out questions, a couple of them stuffed a mic in Farrell’s face.
“What happened here? Is this another gang war? How many did you kill, Dead-Eye?”
“None. It’s was a gang fight and a little fire. Not even newsworthy. Go on home to bed. That’s where I’m going.” He walked away as the bus pulled away from the curb. Farrell hollered a warning over his shoulder. “And don’t block the goddam street.”
CHAPTER SIX
Friday, January 13th.
7:00 a.m.
The Blackmore Agency. Austin.
Day Shift.
BLAINE sat alone in his office with his first coffee of the day looking for a single clue into Congressman Flaherty’s murder.
Who killed him and why?
He made a list of everything that needed to be checked and he planned to go over it with Sue Jacobson later in the day. So far she’d found nothing on Flaherty’s computer, his phone, no fingerprints at the scene. Nada. A big fat zero.
How much time did Flaherty spend in Austin? Did the hit come from somewhere else? Did he piss off somebody in DC?
On the financial end of things, the Congressman had money in the bank. Not behind on any vehicle lease payments. The new wife, Isabel, was squeaky clean—at least on the surface—nothing there.
I’ll send Jesse back to talk to her and we’ll watch her for a week.
He texted Kim.
“Trying for tickets for tomorrow night.”
He stared at the phone waiting for a response and there wasn’t one. “Maybe she’s not up yet.” Blaine shuffled to the kitchen for more coffee. Thinking about seeing Kim cheered him, but not enough. He jotted down more words for the song he was working on and wished his guitar wasn’t upstairs in his bedroom.
7:15 a.m.
Quantrall Ranch. Giddings.
JESSE came out of the ensuite toweling off his hair and Marnie whizzed passed him, almost knocking him into the door frame. She made it in time, dropped to her knees and hurled into the toilet.
Jeeze, she’s so sick.
“Daddy, me,” hollered Charity from the next room. “Me, up.”
“Coming, sweetheart.” Jesse pulled on a clean pair of jeans and hurried next door to lift Charity out of her crib.
The baby stretched out a little arm towards the door. “Marn, Daddy.”
“Marn’s sick. Come in Daddy’s room until I get a shirt on.” He sat Charity on the bed while he buttoned up his shirt. He opened the bathroom door and stuck his head in. “You okay?”
“Uh huh.”
“I’ll take Charity down for breakfast and Molly can watch her until you feel better.”
“Uh huh.”
“What time is your appointment, sweetheart?”
“Ten-thirty.”
“Have Wendy take you. I won’t be back in time.”
“Okay.”
“And call me as soon as you’re done,” said Jesse. “I love you. Hope you feel better later.”
“Uh huh.”
8:00 a.m.
The Blackmore Agency. Austin.
BLAINE took a good look at Jesse’s face when he sat down at the table for the morning meeting. “You’re pushing it too hard. You have no color and I can see the stress lines in your face. I want you to see Isabel Flaherty this morning and make sure we can hear what’s going on in the life of the new merry widow, then go home. Hear me?”
Jesse nodded. “Marnie’s sick and she hasn’t been sleeping.”
Blaine pointed a finger. “You know how to take care of yourself. Don’t be a backslider.”
Jesse grinned. “I won’t, boss. I swear it.”
Lexi jumped up from where she lay next to Blaine’s chair and booked it into the foyer. “The boys are here,” said Lil. “Dillon should be sworn in today if we’re keeping him.”
“Yeah, that’s true,” said Blaine. “I’ll take him with me when I go talk to Sue in the lab.”
“And Rob Vicars is coming at one o’clock,” said Lil. “He’s the last of the interviews… until we need more.”
“Okay, I’ll cover that,” said Blaine. “I’ll be back by one o’clock.”
Dillon Herriot stood in the kitchen doorway not knowing what he was supposed to do on his first day as an employee of the Agency. Dillon was over six feet tall, thirty-five years old, dark hair and brown eyes, a bit of scruff left on his face. Blaine had given him a thumbs up because of his military MP training, but like all the new recruits, he was beginning a three month probationary period.
Lil took him in hand. “Dillon, the coffee is over there. Pour yourself a mug and take a seat here at the table. We have a short briefing before we start the day.”
“Okay, thanks.”
Luke and Fletcher took seats next to Jesse and waited for orders.
Dillon brought his mug to the table and sat down. He’d been introduced to everyone, but he looked less than comfortable.
“Seems funny without Farrell here shooting off his mouth,” said Blaine, “but the night guys have their meeting at eleven before they hit the streets.”
Jesse chuckled. “We’ll see how that shakes out.”
“Okay,” said Blaine, “for this morning, Jesse will call on Mrs. Flaherty to see how she’s doing. Fletch and Luke take the unit and follow Jesse. When he’s done at the Flaherty residence you guys are up. A day or two and we’ll be able to tell if anything is going on with the widow.”
“Any other suspects in that one, boss?” asked Luke. “Any names we should be listening for?”
“Not a fuckin one,” said Blaine. “I’m nowhere and it’s making me nuts.”
“Shit,” said Luke. “Hope we pick something up to get us pointed in the right direction.”
Blaine turned to the new guy. “Dillon, you’re with me at headquarters.”
9:00 a.m.
Coulter-Ross Ranch. La Grange.
ANNIE answered the knock on the front door and her soon to be ex, Tyler Quantrall, was standing there looking back at her. “Tyler, this is a surprise.”
“Umm… I was on my way to the real estate office to talk to Karen about the offer on the building and I thought maybe you could help me get ready for what I was supposed to do.”
“Okay, sure. Come in and I’ll get you a coffee.”
Travis appeared behind Annie and glared at the visitor. “Morning, Tyler.”
“Travis.” Tyler touched the brim of his cowboy hat and brushed by the big ex-marine.
An icy standoff.
Annie poured cof
fee into mugs and the three of them sat at the harvest table in the dining end of the kitchen. Annie had a notepad in front of her and a pen in her hand. “So… the asking price for the house was three seventy-five?”
Tyler nodded. “What I wondered was, if I should just write a check for that amount or offer something else. I’ve never done this before.”
“I thought we touched on this at her office.”
“Uh huh, but I didn’t sign anything. I wanted to talk to Bobby first. He’s kind of helping me.”
“Bobby will be a great help,” said Annie, “and you can depend on his advice. Considering the amount you’ll be spending on renovations, I think you should offer less than the asking price. Why don’t you start at three forty, specify that your offer is subject to an inspection for potential structural problems and give the vendors twenty-four hours to get back to you. They may come back with a counter offer sooner than that.”
“Okay, great.” Tyler blew out a breath. “I had no clue where to start.” He tipped up his coffee and finished it. “One other thing before I go, do you have a woman in mind to fix up the interior?”
“No, but I have a man in mind to do it,” said Annie. “The designer I use for all my big projects is from Santa Fe, Tony Bardelli.”
“Is he the guy who designed the Mill?” asked Tyler.
“Yes, he is,” said Annie. “I think he’s the best around.”
“But he’s not even in Texas,” said Tyler. “How could he do it?”
“He can stay with me while he works on it. He stayed here when he worked on the safe-house.”
“Do you think he’d do that? Come down here for a small job like this?”
“As soon as you have a building for him to look at, I’ll call him,” said Annie.
“Okay, thanks,” said Tyler. “I love the way the Mill in Santa Fe looks. I can tell the guy is good.”
Annie walked Tyler to the door and watched her husband get into his truck. She turned away and wiped the tears from her eyes.
Travis was right there and pulled her into a hug. “No crying, Annie-girl.” He held her close and stroked her long mane of black hair. “You can’t go back there,” he whispered. “That’s a dangerous hurting place for you.”
9:30 a.m.
Lady Bird Lake Area. Austin.
JESSE arrived at the Flaherty residence right on time. He’d called ahead and Isabel Flaherty said she could spare him a few minutes but only if he came right away. She had a full day ahead of her with her attorney, trying to straighten out her husband’s affairs.
Wonder if Blacky could get a copy of the will?
“Come in Ranger Quantrall.” Isabel showed him into the sitting room next to the kitchen and offered him coffee. He accepted her offer to give him a moment alone in the room.
She returned and sat in a pale blue velvet wing chair next to the dark blue sofa. “What can I help you with today?”
“We seem to be at a dead end in our investigation,” said Jesse, “and I wondered if you could recall anything that was upsetting your husband the week before he died?”
“Things were always upsetting Dan at the Capitol, but that was normal, and that’s just the way a political life goes. It’s hard to sway others to your viewpoint more often than not. Everyday he’d tell me about arguments he had over trivial matters.”
“I suppose that’s true,” said Jesse. “Did your husband have a permanent residence in DC?”
“We talked about it, but this being Dan’s first term, we hadn’t done anything. He stayed at the Marriott last time he had to be there for meetings.”
“Are you managing all right by yourself?” asked Jesse.
“It’s hard,” said Isabel, “but Dan’s children have been wonderful to me. They both miss their father so much.”
Jesse left another card on the coffee table and walked down the driveway to his Range Rover thinking it wasn’t her who killed the Congressman. She seemed like a genuine caring person. His thoughts about Isabel Flaherty were interrupted by his ringing cell.
“Marnie, how did the appointment go?”
“Fine. I’m at the lab now doing some tests, then I’m going home.”
“I’m finished for the day, sweetheart,” said Jesse. “I’ll meet you at the ranch and we’ll have lunch together.”
“Thanks, Jesse. I love you.”
9:30 a.m.
Ranger Headquarters. Austin.
BLAINE set the Starbucks container down on the Chief’s desk and introduced Dillon Herriot.
“Welcome, sir.” The Chief offered a large hand across the desk. “I see by the resume Blaine sent me that you were an MP for a considerable length of time.”
“Yes, sir. Four years.”
“Good training,” said the Chief. “Let’s get you sworn in and then you’ll be a cop again.”
Dillon smiled. “Official or unofficial, I’m always a cop.”
“That’s true isn’t it? It’s a way of life and it’s in your blood.”
After Dillon was sworn in, Blaine showed him around headquarters, then walked him downstairs to the lab and introduced him to Sue Jacobson in the forensics lab.
“Nice to meet you, Dillon. The Agency has a great team.”
Dillon nodded. He was a quiet guy.
“Anything turn up on Congressman Flaherty’s emails?” asked Blaine.
“Nothing jumped out at Paul,” said Sue, “and he’s tuned in for the inuendo or the hint of something.”
“Yeah, he is,” said Blaine. “If he’s finished with the laptop, can I have a go at it? I’m grasping at straws, here, Sue. We have nothing. Not a clue.”
“Hate when that happens,” said Sue, “but the crime scene and the victim’s house gave up nothing. Hang on a minute, Blaine, and I’ll get the laptop for you. You can sign for it on that sheet over there on the clipboard.”
“Thanks, Sue.” Blaine signed the sheet and Sue was back with the laptop inside a fitted leather case.
“Hope you find something Paul missed.”
I doubt it. The guy doesn’t miss much.
10:00 a.m.
Lady Bird Lake. Austin.
LUKE and Fletcher were parked down the street from Congressman Flaherty’s condo and they watched Jesse emerge and jump into his Range Rover.
“Okay, boss is out of there,” said Fletcher. “Let’s get in the unit and see if we’re set to hear what the widow has to say for herself.”
“We’ll be set,” said Luke. “Jesse never misses with a tag.”
Jesse drove past them and gave them a smile and a little wave.
“Let’s do it. We’ve got to get something. The boss is stressing over it.”
10:30 a.m.
The Capitol. Austin.
BLAINE and Dillon piled into the truck at headquarters and his cell rang before he could turn the key. Blaine glanced at the screen before he answered and wasn’t happy to see the black cat. “Cat, que pasa?”
“I’m getting a lot of pressure from the media on Dan’s murder. I know you’re working on it, but do you have anything I can tell them?”
“Not a damned thing. I can’t even find a fuckin thread to pull on, Cat. It’s driving me fuckin bonkers.”
“Can you come for a coffee and help me make something out of nothing? I have to get words on paper.”
“What about your fancy ass speech writer?”
“He didn’t work out and I’m looking for a new one.”
“Dandy. I haven’t got much time. Coming right now.”
“Thanks, sweetie.”
Blaine started the truck and pulled onto the road. “Cat’s got a problem. We’ll go help her out for a few minutes.”
“Sure,” said Dillon. “Okay by me.”
Blaine parked in the reserved spot and showed Dillon the way to the Governor’s office.
Dillon stared the architecture and at the ceiling in the rotunda and said, “I’ve never been in here before. You could get lost.”
“Get used to
it. Cat calls for all kinds of reasons and you might have to run over here and give her a hand.”
“Who is this Cat woman?”
“Governor Campbell. We are her ace in the hole against crime, at least that’s what she calls us.”
“We’re going to see the Governor like right this minute?”
“Yep.” Blaine opened the door of the outer office and spoke to Mrs. Warburton. “Morning, ma’am. She in there?”
“Thank goodness you’re here, Ranger Blackmore. Things have been stressful today.”
“Friday the thirteenth,” said Blaine. “Anything can happen.”
Penny Warburton laughed. “Don’t say that.”
“This is Dillon Herriot, a new member of my staff.”
“Nice to meet you, sir.” She jotted his name down. Nothing got by Penny Warburton.
Blaine tapped twice and opened the door. He strode straight across the thickly carpeted office and poured two mugs of coffee. “Any pastries? I’m fuckin starved.”
Dillon raised an eyebrow.
Cat giggled. “I’ll tell Penny to call down for some.” She ordered snacks then said, “Who’s the good looking new guy?”
“Oh, sorry,” said Blaine. “This is Dillon. Governor Catherine Campbell.”
“Hey, Dillon, have a seat over there. I’m going to make myself a coffee and see if I can squeeze a speech out of the short fuse.”
“We’ll write something up quick,” said Blaine. Then he was on his cell. “Mary, can you fit Cat in this afternoon? She needs to say something about Congressman Flaherty’s untimely demise.”
“One thirty?”
Blaine turned to Catherine. “How’s one thirty look to you?”
Catherine walked over to her desk and checked the day’s schedule. She shook her head. “Nope. Only four fifteen.”
“Four fifteen, Mary. Can you do it?”
“Uh huh. Does she want pictures?”
To Cat: “Do you want a photographer?”
“No thanks. I look like shit.”
Dillon smiled and sipped his coffee.
“Okay, all set. Blaine refilled his cup and sat down. “Now let’s see what we’re going to say to calm the savages.” He winked at Dillon.