by Carolina Mac
12:00 Noon.
The Blackmore Agency.
BLAINE blew into the house at noon, starving but having no time for a relaxing lunch with Carm and Casey. “Can you bring me something into the office, mi Corazon? I have to work until one o’clock.”
“Si,” said Carm.
“I need you to help me with something,” hollered Casey.
“Right after the interview, buddy,” Blaine hollered back. He closed the office door hoping for an hour’s peace to find a hidden clue in Dan Flaherty’s emails. If he didn’t get a thing from them, there was only one other possibility. He’d have to call New Orleans.
12:15 p.m.
Coulter-Ross Ranch. La Grange.
ANNIE made smoked meat sandwiches for her and Travis as they worked on pricing items purchased at the last auction for the antique store. “I need to go to a couple of auctions right away and buy more stock,” said Annie. “Maybe there will be one in Santa Fe at the place I used to go to. I got a lot of good quality items there.”
“Road trip?” asked Travis as he searched through the pricing book looking for a Moorcroft vase in the wisteria pattern.
“Air trip would be quicker.” Her cell rang and it was Tyler. “Hey, Ty, what happened with the offer?”
“It’s a done deal, Annie. Karen called the people and told them our price. They came to her office and talked about it and said the lowest they could go was three fifty. I said okay and they signed it.”
“Great. When does it close?”
“February first.”
“I’ll call Tony and see what his schedule is like for February.”
“Thanks, Annie.”
“Did y’all get the big house?” asked Travis.
“Tyler bought the property. Now we have to make it livable for Tyler’s customers. I’ll call Tony later.”
1:00 p.m.
The Blackmore Agency.
LIL knocked on the office door and introduced Rob Vicars.
“Come in, Rob and have a seat,” said Blaine. “I’m in the middle of searching for something, so just hold on for a sec.”
“Yeah, sure. No problem.”
“Want coffee, boss?” asked Lil.
“Please, and one for Rob. Thanks, Lil.”
“Happy to meet you, Ranger Blackmore,” said Rob. “I was hyped to see y’all had an opening here at the Agency.”
“Not often we hire,” said Blaine. “Small group and we work tightly together.” Blaine hated to leave Congressman’s Flaherty’s emails, but he had to. He took a minute and scanned Rob Vicar’s resume. “Your background is federal?”
“Yes, sir. ATF division for six years.”
“And you left the ATF because…?”
“Because I couldn’t take the bullshit no more. Everything we did was wrapped up in red tape until we were shitting it out our asses.”
“I feel you,” said Blaine. “I worked with an agent in Colombia. Granted he was DEA, but he was suffering all the same—for different reasons—but inexplicable complications spawned by the same source.”
“So, I took what vacation time I had and used it to look for another job. I couldn’t give my best to people who didn’t want it. The frustration wasn’t worth it.”
“Did you train at Glynco?”
“Uh huh. Georgia,” said Rob. “Didn’t mind the training.”
“But you’re a Texan?”
Rob grinned. Tanned and muscular, Rob Vicars loomed large in front of Blaine’s desk. Over two hundred pounds, dark haired with a small moustache and a couple day’s growth on his chin. “Born in Lubbock. But moved down here a year ago. Love Austin because I love the music scene. Go to everything I can get tickets for. I feed off it.”
“Uh huh,” said Blaine. “Me too. In fact, I’m trying to get tickets for the weekend for my girlfriend and me. We sometimes get so busy here, we don’t have much of a life outside the Agency.”
“I hear you.”
“Why don’t we test you at the range and if you qualify on your skills, I’ll give you a shot for three months and then we’ll do a re-eval mid-April.”
“Good enough. Thanks for the chance.” Rob stood up and shook Blaine’s hand.
“I’ll show you where Lil’s office is, and she’ll set you up as an employee. I’ll see you at eight o’clock, Monday morning for your orientation.”
Rob smiled and appeared genuinely pleased. “Thanks again, Ranger Blackmore.”
2:00 p.m.
Coulter-Ross Ranch. La Grange.
THE night squad boys were at the gate on their Harley’s at ten to two. Annie heard the rumble and peeked out the kitchen window.
“They here?” asked Travis.
“Uh huh, right on time.”
“I don’t like the way that Billy guy looks at you,” said Travis. “He’s hard for you and he’s gonna make a move. I can feel it.”
“He can look,” said Annie. “They all look. Means nothing.”
“No, it doesn’t mean nothing, Annie-girl. It means something is going on in his blond surfer head and I don’t like it. Not a bit.”
“Keep your eye on him then.”
“I intend to.”
Annie smiled as she opened the door to let them in. She shivered as the cold north wind blew in with the boys. “I heard snow was coming.”
“Fuck snow,” said Billy. “We have to ride our bikes.”
“Not today,” said Annie. “I thought today, we’d work on our non-dominant hand before we tried shooting from the wrong side of our Harleys.”
Cody laughed. “Jesus, I’m having nightmares already without going the wrong way and shooting with my left fuckin hand.”
“When I finish with you, Cody, your left will be just as good as your right.”
“I want to believe you, Annie,” said Cody. “Honest, I do.”
“I won’t be satisfied until I’m as good as Annie,” said Billy, and showed her his best sexy smile.
Travis glared.
5:00 p.m.
The Blackmore Agency. Austin.
FRUSTRATED, and tired of looking, Blaine hadn’t found anything in Congressman Flaherty’s emails, and he was about to give up. Paul Sinclair in the lab was meticulous and didn’t miss much.
Ready to try his last hope, Blaine picked up his cell and called Misty.
“Hey, Beb. I was thinking about you today. Maybe I thought you were going to call.”
“I was thinking about you too, Mist.
“How are things going for you and Kim?”
“Fine when I get a chance to see her. That hasn’t been too often.”
“Can I help with something? Is that why you’re calling?”
“Yes, please. I’m nowhere on Congressman Flaherty’s murder. If I couriered items to you, could you see if there’s anything?”
“Sure. Send me a package.”
“Thanks, sweetheart.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Friday the 13th.
11:00 p.m.
The Blackmore Agency. Austin.
Night Shift.
BLAINE was too tired to join Farrell on the night ride, but he stayed up long enough to greet the team when they arrived for the pre-ride meeting.
“It’s already snowing,” said Billy, shaking flakes off his blond head. “Getting slippery out there.”
“Bad night for the bikes,” said Farrell. “Maybe we should take the trucks to be safe.”
Annie, Mickey and Travis came in covered in white frosting. Annie took her bandana off, shook out her long hair and shivered.
“Mom, take my truck and if the roads are bad when y’all come back, you and Mick sleep here,” said Blaine. “I don’t want you on seventy-one on your bike if it’s snowing.”
“Okay, sugar pop.”
Farrell peered out the front window. “Tonight, might be a quiet night on the streets because of the weather and if nothing is happening, we’ll clock out early. It’s Friday night and y’all might have plans.”
“Do yo
u have a plan, bro?” asked Blaine.
“No, but Quinn might.” Farrell smirked. “I guess I’d know if I called her like I should.”
“Casey and I are going to finish writing his essay on serial rapists,” said Blaine, “then I’m hitting the sack.”
“I’ll call if anything shakes out,” said Farrell.
“Better be important if you’re waking me up,” said Blaine.
Midnight.
East Austin.
THE streets were pretty much devoid of traffic due to the late hour and the steadily falling snow. Farrell chose the east end of the city for the tour and for the first hour the city seemed to be sleeping peacefully.
He led the way through the parking lot of the huge outlet mall north of the airport looking for anything out of the norm and glimpsed activity a couple rows over.
As he drove closer he heard screaming and stepped on the gas. He stuck his arm out the window and waved Annie to go the other way and block the end of the row. Tires spun, the thin coating of snow on the asphalt making it slick, and the rear end of the Silverado fishtailed.
Farrell gained control, sped two rows over and parked sideways blocking the exit path for the whole row. Annie was blocking the other end with Blaine’s big diesel. “Let’s go guys. Grab these fuckers and cuff them.”
They spilled out of the truck and ran towards the screaming girls. “Let go of the girls. Down on your knees. Hands on your heads.”
One ganger let go of the girl he was dragging towards a black SUV, and she dropped onto the pavement. He pulled out his gun, turned to fire at Farrell and with a loud pop, his head exploded. He dropped to the pavement as Annie ran up the row towards them, her Beretta in her hand.
“Thanks, Annie,” said Farrell.
When they saw their buddy drop dead, the other five guys let go of the two girls they held onto and zig-zagged between cars trying to get away. “Grab them,” hollered Farrell.
Annie and Travis ran one way and Mick the other. Billy and Cody were on the heels of two of the runners.
“Get in my truck, girls,” said Farrell. “It’s warm and I want to talk to you in a minute.” The girls were hysterical, clutching shopping bags and crying and screaming about what happened. Farrell wanted to hear their story, but he didn’t have time to listen right then.
“Carlos, get the girls settled in the truck and calm them down. Call for an ambulance—no… make it two. Annie’s here.”
“Copy that, boss.”
ANNIE squatted between the rows of parked cars with Travis beside her and waited while Billy and Cody ran the gangers down. She could hear them running and hollering to each other, dodging in and out of the rows.
“Mick will turn them,” said Annie in a low voice. And a couple minutes later, two of the punks came running right back towards her and Travis.
They didn’t see her below eye level. She heard them getting close, jumped to her feet and fired.
Bang.
Bang.
Two knee shots. Those boys weren’t going anywhere.
Sirens sounded and the first ambulance was on its way.
“How many more?” hollered Travis.
“Should be three,” Farrell hollered back. “Hold on, Billy and Cody have one. Two more.”
Annie jumped up into the load bed of Blaine’s truck and peered through the night scope on her Remington. “Over by the dumpster in the northwest corner,” she yelled. “I’ve got a shot.”
Bang.
Bang.
“That should be it, sugar pop.”
Travis helped her down and gave her a hug. “Nice shooting, Annie-girl.”
Saturday, January 14th.
1:30 a.m.
Outlet Mall. Austin.
FARRELL sat in his truck with the three girls and tried to calm them enough to get their statements. Carlos hadn’t had much luck.
“The mall is having a midnight madness sale and we thought it would be fun to come and shop.”
“And we did have fun shopping and trying on shoes,” said a different girl.
“Then when we came outside it was snowing and a lot colder,” said the third girl. “We ran down the rows trying to find our car because Bettes couldn’t remember where she parked.”
“We were on the wrong row. Bettes was pushing the fob to see if her lights would come on and we couldn’t find it. That’s when those guys grabbed us.”
“Can you remember what they said?” asked Farrell.
“All I heard the one guy say was—a little old, but they’ll do—something like that.”
Sex trafficking?
“Carlos, get their contact details, then help them find their car,” said Farrell.
“Yep.”
Farrell hopped out and checked on the two ambulances. They had the knee shots on gurneys ready to transport and the Medical Examiner had arrived for the dead guy.
“Anybody see their cuts?” asked Farrell.
“The live one is in the back of Blacky’s truck,” said Mick. “He’s wearing one.”
“Right,” said Farrell, “Billy and Cody caught one that Mom didn’t shoot. We can brace him at headquarters.”
4:00 a.m.
Ranger Headquarters. Austin.
FARRELL sent Billy and Cody, one in each ambulance, to the hospital to secure the shot gangers, and he sent Annie, Mick and Travis back to the Agency to sleep while he and Carlos took the one unhurt ganger to booking.
Prints came up in the system right away. A known ganger called Joey Iglesias from the Cobras. After he was booked, Farrell took him upstairs to interrogation room one and secured him to the metal table. He left Joey there while he went to the lunchroom and made himself and Carlos a coffee.
“Want to interrogate him?” asked Farrell. “I’m not good at it like Jesse. “Why don’t you give it a shot?”
Carlos grinned. “Okay. Let me see what I can do.”
Inside the room, Carlos set up the interview while Farrell leaned on the door, sipped his coffee and watched.
“Okay, Joey,” said Carlos, “why don’t you tell me why you and your buddies were grabbing girls at the mall?”
“I ain’t telling you nothing.”
“You already told me something important, Joey,” said Carlos.
“Did not.”
“Yeah, you did. You got caught grabbing girls at the mall and that told me the Cobras are into human trafficking. Bet your boss will be pissed you told me that.” Carlos chuckled.
Joey stared at the cuffs on his wrists.
“Who’s the boss of the Cobras?”
“Don’t know.”
Carlos laughed. “Think I can’t find that out in two fucking seconds, kid? I’m gonna go straight to your boss and tell him what a fuck-up you are—and you’re the one who got off lucky. All the rest of your dumb-ass pals are shot. We’re not fooling around here, Joey. You’re gonna do some heavy time for what you did.” Carlos pointed a finger. “That’s only if you live long enough to go to trial and the boss doesn’t off you first.”
“Won’t happen. Boss will get me a lawyer.”
“Cheaper to kill you, Joey. Think your boss cares about you and your legal problems? Nope. Doesn’t give a shit what happens to you. You’re just one of his sheep following orders. Lawyer ain’t gonna help you either. At least eight or nine witnesses saw what you were doing. You were abducting those girls. Where were you taking them?”
“None of your fuckin business.” Joey spit at Carlos and he laughed.
“You’re lucky you can still spit, Joey. Your jackass buds are all in the hospital with their knees shot out. Know what that means?” Carlos didn’t wait for an answer. “Means, they can’t run. From now on they limp when they walk, dragging that stiff leg behind them. And do you know what else? They can’t ride their Harleys worth shit with a stiff fuckin leg.” Carlos gave the table a whack with his fist and Joey jumped.
“I ain’t talking to cops.”
“You can go to the lockup and think a
bout what happened to your punk friends cause tomorrow one of the big guns is coming to talk to you and you’ll spill everything you know. I guarantee it.”
“Fuck you.”
“You too,” said Carlos as he stood up and turned off the recorder.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Saturday, January 14th.
7:00 a.m.
The Blackmore Agency. Austin.
Day Shift.
ANNIE and Carm were drinking coffee at the table in the alcove when Blaine stumbled into the kitchen half asleep. He took a mug from the cupboard and filled it at the center island. “Mom, did you sleep over?”
“Uh huh. It was snowing hard when we got back, but I have to get home as soon as Mickey and Travis are ready.”
“Anything interesting turn up?” asked Blaine.
“I’ll let Farrell tell you, sugar, but yes, we rounded up a gang trying to get three girls into their SUV.”
“Gangers. They grabbing girls for themselves or for something else? Sex trafficking? Sometimes they work them. Sometimes they sell them.”
“Farrell thought they were on a mission, but he’ll talk to you about it when he wakes up.”
“Anybody get shot?”
Annie smiled and Blaine raised a wary black brow.
“Mom… how many?”
“One tried to kill Farrell.”
“And he’s dead?”
Annie nodded. “And four or five ran. Billy and Cody caught one and cuffed him. I think he’s in the lockup at headquarters.”
“And the others?”
“I knocked four down.”
“Jeeze, Mom. Wish I’d been there. What gang was it?”
“Cobras.”
“Cobras. Uh huh. I’ll find out the name of the leader and the top three and have the boys bring them in for questioning. Farrell will want to talk to them when he gets up.”
7:30 a.m.
Quantrall Ranch. Giddings.
JESSE and Marnie sat at the breakfast table with Bobby waiting for Tyler to come in from the barn. Marnie sipped her juice, stared at the platter of ham and eggs in the center of the table and didn’t put anything on her plate.