Night Vipers

by Carolina Mac

  She nodded her head and tried to speak but couldn’t.

  Blaine held up a hand. “Don’t try, Mom. Wait.”

  Farrell heard Blaine talking and pushed into the room. “You okay, Mom?”

  She nodded and smiled.

  “We’ve got a lot of work today,” said Blaine. “Stay in bed as long as you want. Dec will be here with you. Casey and Carm and of course, Travis won’t let you out of his sight.”

  8:00 a.m.

  9 Saint Gillian Street. New Orleans. Louisiana.

  MISTY’S big Bernese ran to the front door barking loudly and Misty wondered who could be at her door so early. She opened the door to the FedEx man and signed for the parcel. She wandered into the front parlor and sat down on the sofa to open it and see the items Jesse sent to her.

  Angelique came into the room with two cups of tea and sat down to watch. “Did those things belong to the dead man?”

  “Yes. I’ll start with the wallet because it was in his pocket when he died, Jesse told me.”

  “Don’t start until I fetch you some water,” said Angelique. She returned with a glass and set it on the end table, just in case Misty fainted like she sometimes did after having a vision.

  Misty held Congressman Flaherty’s brown leather billfold in both her hands pressed close to her body. She closed her eyes and waited.

  8:00 a.m.

  The Blackmore Agency. Austin. Texas.

  BLAINE started the meeting without his partner. Jesse had called and said he was on his way, but he had the farthest to come and was usually late.

  “First things first,” Blaine pointed at Rob Vicars. “Rob is our new hire. He’s starting this morning, so he’ll be with me and I’ll take care of his orientation and his swearing in.”

  Everybody said hello to Rob, shook hands with him and welcomed him.

  “Since it’s Monday and Farrell did sleep a reasonable amount of time, he can help Jesse with the interrogations at headquarters. We made a lot of arrests and a lot of angry customers are waiting their turn in the lockup to spill what they know.”

  He turned to Lily. “Lil will check on Dillon in the hospital and possibly give him a ride home if he is released.” Blaine’s cell rang, and he glanced at the screen thinking it could wait until after the meeting. “It’s Misty. Maybe she got something from the Congressman’s items.” Blaine walked over to the window alcove so he could hear better. “Anything?”

  “I could see huge amounts of money—like mountains,” said Misty. “And there was a man on top of the mountain and he’s evil.”

  “Any idea who the evil guy is?”

  “I’m only guessing at this,” said Misty, “but since the murdered man was in the government, the money guy may be in the government too. But he’s on top of the money mountain, so he’s high up.”

  “Any idea what he looks like?”

  “Yes. I got a good look at his face. What should I do?”

  “I’ll call New Orleans PD and set you up with a sketch artist then call you back with a time.”

  “Okay, thanks, Beb.”

  “Did you try all the items?”

  “Not yet. Only the wallet. I started with it.”

  “Fantastic. You always give me a place to start. Thanks, sweetheart. I love you.”

  I didn’t mean to say that. But I do love her.

  “I love you too.”

  Blaine walked back to the table and sat down. “Misty saw the guy involved in Dan Flaherty’s death. I’m setting her up with a sketch artist in New Orleans.”

  “Fantastic,” said Luke. “Any other clues?”

  “He’s high up on a money mountain,” said Blaine.

  “Treasury, IRS Agent,” said Luke, thinking out loud. “Maybe the Congressman stumbled on something and was working on it and it got him killed.”

  “I’ve got to go back over the emails,” said Blaine, “and pay more attention to any from those sources.”

  “While I’m at headquarters,” said Farrell, “Lukey and Fletch can tag the Cobra clubhouse and Georgie Deleon’s residence.”

  “How about his vehicle?” asked Fletch. “Does he have wheels besides his Harley?”

  “Don’t think so, but I’ll double check.”

  8:30 a.m.

  Quantrall Ranch. Giddings.

  BOBBY was sipping the last of his coffee when Tyler came into the dining room. “You missed Jesse at breakfast.”

  “I wanted to miss Jesse,” said Tyler. “He’d like to kill me right about now and I’m staying out of his way.”

  “How would you feel about seeing somebody about your recent behavior?” asked Bobby. “You’ve been acting a little irrational lately, don’t you think?”

  “You mean like a shrink?”

  “I’m thinking an evaluation.”

  “You and Jesse think I’m nuts?” asked Tyler with a curl to his lip.

  “Of course, we don’t.”

  “Don’t have time, Bobby. I need a lawyer more than a shrink, and that’s what I’m doing today. Getting me a crackerjack lawyer.”

  9:00 a.m.

  Ranger Headquarters. Austin.

  FARRELL figured he’d start at the top with Georgie Deleon, king of the Cobras and work his way down the ranks. Might not get a thing out of the big boss, but there was always a chance he’d let something slip—especially if Farrell made him mad enough.

  He got two Cokes out of the vending machine at the end of the hall and put one on the table in the interrogation room where Georgie was going to sit. He set up the interview and waited for Perkins to bring his customer from the lockup.

  Farrell grinned when Ranger Perkins brought Georgie in and cuffed him to the table. The guy was a mess and looked like he hadn’t slept all weekend. “Hey, Georgie, how was your weekend?”

  “Fuck off Donovan. You can’t keep me here. I got rights.”

  “Maybe you got a couple left. A lot of your rights got flushed down the shitter when you sent your punks to grab those girls. How many did you grab before those three?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Donovan. You cops all talk shit and I don’t understand nothing.”

  “Duh. Yeah, play the dumb card, Georgie. That should be easy for you.”

  “You sayin I’m stupid?”

  “Yell, yeah,” hollered Farrell. “Dumber than dirt.”

  “You reading me wrong. I’m a thinker.”

  “Think on this, Georgie Deleon. Blacky shot Sal and he put a Parabellum in Petey’s forehead. Think hard where that leaves you and your little band of merry assholes.”

  “Super will pay for what he done,” said Georgie. “He can’t just shoot people.”

  “He can shoot anybody he likes if they’ve got a weapon in their hand and they intend to use it. It’s called self-defense.”

  “Fuck that bullshit. All cops are liars.”

  Farrell ignored the insult. “Tell me about the girls y’all are working, Georgie. Where you got them stashed?”

  “Enough questions, Donovan. I need one of them free lawyers. If I ask for one, you gotta get him for me, right?”

  “That’s one of your rights, Georgie. You want a lawyer; I’ll go get you one. When he gets here, Perkins will get you from your cell and take you to a room where you can tell your legal counsel your deepest darkest secrets.”

  “Okay, get me one.”

  Farrell chuckled. “Won’t matter a damn whether you have a lawyer or not once Jesse leans hard on your shot guys in the infirmary. They’ll be singing like robins in spring.”

  “Never happen, Donovan. Those boys took vows. They know the rules.”

  STILL upset from Tyler’s Santa Fe episode, Jesse found it hard to focus on work. He headed downstairs with the names of the Cobras Annie had wounded at the outlet mall. After their leg wounds were treated, they’d been transferred from Saint Michael’s to the lockup infirmary.

  He started with Cesar Mendez in bed one. Jesse pulled up a chair and sat beside the bed. “Morning
, Cesar. How’s the leg?”

  “What do you care?”

  “I care about you getting hurt following Georgie’s orders. Know why?”

  “No, and I don’t give a shit why.”

  Jesse smiled. “I’m gonna tell you anyway. Because next time you follow one of your boss’s stupid orders it’s gonna get you killed. Another kid dead before he can legally drink.”

  “Won’t happen. My boss ain’t stupid.”

  “That’s a question open for debate,” mumbled Jesse. “Why were you snatching girls at the mall, Cesar?”

  “None of your business.”

  “I’m making it my business,” said Jesse. “We’re all over the Cobras like flies on shit now that we know y’all are in the girl grabbing business.”

  “Good luck, cop. Y’all are gonna need it.”

  “I won’t need luck,” said Jesse. “I’ve got a secret weapon.”

  Wish I did.

  Jesse moved three beds down the row to Ben Jimenez. He read the note Blaine had written beside Ben’s name.

  Petey, the enforcer, was Ben’s brother.

  “Sorry about your loss, Ben. Too bad you’re not at home with your mother. She must be sad with one of her sons dead and the other one in jail.”

  Ben turned his dark head and stared at Jesse. “What are you sayin?”

  “Says here Petey is dead. Didn’t you know?”

  “That’s a lie. Petey ain’t dead.”

  “Is that why you joined the Cobras? Because of your big brother?”

  “Shut up.”

  “I guess you’ll be in jail for Petey’s funeral.”

  “I said shut up,” Ben roared and pulled against the chain attaching him to the bed rail. The nurse took a few steps closer to see what was going on.

  “Tell me about the girls you were grabbing at the mall,” said Jesse. “Where were you taking them?”

  Ben turned his head and wouldn’t look at Jesse.

  “Hey, Benny, if you’re looking for a way out of here to be with your mother for the funeral n’all, I can help with that,” said Jesse. “I’ll leave my card here on your table and you think hard on what you want to do. When you decide, you tell the nurse to call me.”

  I’m not telling him his mother is in a cell of her own. Not yet. I’ll save that.

  BLAINE set Starbuck’s coffee containers on the Chief’s desk and introduced the Agency’s newest hire, Rob Vicars.

  Rob shook the Chief’s hand. “Nice to meet you, sir.”

  “You too,” said the Chief. “I had a chance to glance at your resume and it’s impressive.”

  “Thanks.”

  The Chief turned to Blaine. “Give me an update on the Congressman.”

  “You getting pressure?”

  “It’s increasing.”

  “It was a pro hit and I have nothing. Zero. Zip. I had to look elsewhere. Misty is working on it. I sent her a package.”

  “Something positive?”

  “Possibly. She’s at New Orleans PD right now working with their sketch artist.”

  The Chief raised an eyebrow. “That’s progress. Can’t wait to see what she comes up with.”

  “She never lets us down, Chief.”

  “I’m glad she’s still willing to help you.”

  “Me too.”

  9:30

  ACROSS the hall in interrogation room four, Farrell sat down across from Sal Lara and started the interview. “How’s your accommodation, Sal?”

  “Don’t call me that. Only my friends call me Sal.”

  “Okay, got it,” said Farrell. “I’ll just call you jerkwad. What are you doing with the girls y’all are grabbing, jerkwad? Who are you supplying?”

  “No idea what you’re talking about. Cobras ain’t into that stuff.”

  “No? A lot of them got shot at the outlet mall, and that’s exactly what they were into. Explain that.”

  “Can’t. Must have been acting on their own. Nothing to do with the club.”

  “Those punks don’t make a move without an order. You and I know that. I was raised in a fuckin club in San Angelo. I know the streets and I know what goes down. You can’t bullshit another ganger.”

  “I’m tired of sitting around here. I want me one of those free legal guys. Go get me one.”

  “Yeah, I’m all over that, Sal. You’re gonna need one. Right this minute my boss is downstairs in the infirmary turning those guys who got shot following your orders.” Farrell stood up and smiled. “Ever been to Huntsville?”

  10:00 a.m.

  The Blackmore Agency. Austin.

  ANNIE sat at the little table in the window alcove with a cup of chicken soup that Carm had made her. She was hungry but couldn’t bear to swallow. Even water hurt to go down. The boys had been texting her from headquarters, they were so worried about her. She loved them so much.

  Her phone signaled another text and she smiled thinking it was from Farrell or Blaine. It wasn’t.

  “Sorry, Annie. Didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  Tears burned behind her eyes. She loved Tyler and trusted him. What had gone wrong?

  10:30 a.m.

  Southeast Austin.

  FLETCHER parked his truck down the road from the Cobra’s clubhouse in case any of the snakes were lurking around in their pit. He and Luke strolled down the street and walked past the building taking a look-see.

  “Two bikes at the back,” said Luke. “We can’t go in right now. Let’s go do the boss’s house and come back.”

  “Yep, good plan.”

  3:00 p.m.

  New Orleans PD. Louisiana.

  IT took most of the day, but Misty knew it would. She’d done sketches before and it took a long time to get them right. Trying to match the face in her vision to what the artist drew on her electronic sketch pad was a challenge, but when they finished Misty thought she had everything correct on the man’s face, down to the last detail.

  “Good job, Madam LeJeune,” said the sketch artist, a young girl named Mary Louise Collins. She was talented. “Shall we see if facial recognition has anybody like this in the data base?”

  “Yes, please,” said Misty. “Ranger Blackmore will want to know that right away.”

  Mary Louise took the finished sketch to the person who could search the system, then fixed coffees for herself and Misty while they waited for the results.

  6:30 p.m.

  The Blackmore Agency. Austin.

  CARM set the dining room table for dinner because Annie, Declan and Travis were there. Annie had helped prepare dinner, but she wasn’t able to say a word while she buzzed around in the kitchen making biscuits and her green bean casserole.

  They were just about to sit down and eat when Blaine’s cell rang, and he cursed in Spanish. “Damn it. This happens every time.” He checked and it was Misty.

  “How did the sketch go, sweetheart?”

  “It went well. It came up on that facial recognition thing as a man named Arlie Theriault and he works in the Texas State Comptroller’s office in the LBJ Building.”

  “Fantastic,” said Blaine. “There’s no other word for it or for you. You are my amazing girl, Mist. I’ll bring him in first thing in the morning. Thank you for taking the time to do that, sweetheart. You can bill the Agency for your time. It’s only right.”

  Misty giggled. “Watch the mail for my bill.”

  “I’m serious,” said Blaine.

  I’ll send her a gift.

  11:00 p.m.

  Night shift.

  FARRELL’S meeting started about ten minutes before the hour when the boys all arrived on their Harleys. “Hey, guys, enjoy y’all’s time off?”

  “Not really,” said Carlos. “I’m not much of a leisure suit guy.”

  Farrell shook his head.

  “It was okay,” said Billy. “Glad to get back to work. Annie not riding with us tonight?”

  “Nope, she’s injured and she’s upstairs sleeping.”

  “Oh, sorry,” said Billy. “Hope s
he’s okay.”

  “She will be,” said Farrell. Thinking about what Tyler did to Annie tossed him right into revenge mode and he couldn’t work in that state of mind. He had to shake it off, concentrate only on work and save payback for later.

  He took a couple of deep breaths and talked to the crew. “Okay, tonight we’ll concentrate on the malls. We’ll start in the area of the Cobra clubhouse and work our way out in a circle. Just cruising through the bigger malls, keeping our eyes open for activity. Might be too soon. The Cobras might be lying low for a few days after the big bust we made, but we’ll see if there’s any movement.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Tuesday, January 17th.

  8:00 a.m.

  Quantrall Ranch. Giddings.

  Day Shift.

  BOBBY set down his glass of juice and cast a look across the table at Tyler. “What time are you and Jesse leaving for Dallas?”

  “Half an hour,” said Jesse. “His appointment is at ten.”

  “Your divorce lawyer recommended this guy?” asked Bobby.

  Tyler nodded. “He works for the same firm as Lazzaro and he’s supposed to be the best there is in the courtroom.”

  “He has a rep,” said Jesse. “Never lost a trial case.”

  “Never?” asked Bobby. “That’s impressive.”

  Marnie sat silently next to Charity helping her with her breakfast.

  “You skipping breakfast again, sweetheart?”

  “It’s my worst meal of the day,” said Marnie. “By lunch I’m usually feeling better.”

  “Did you get any results back yet?” asked Bobby.

  “No, I’m going to get them this morning. Molly volunteered to watch Charity for an hour.”

  “I should be going with you,” said Jesse.

  “No need,” said Marnie. “It’s only test results and I’m only going to Giddings. I’ll text you when I get them.”

  Jesse smiled. “Can’t wait.”

  “Guess I’ll never be a father,” mumbled Tyler.

  “You were a father,” Jesse snapped at his brother, “and you threw all that away, along with your wife and the rest of your life.”