by Carolina Mac
“Don’t blame y’all. Mike’s cooking is the shits.”
Mike had wandered closer to their table and heard Kamps’ comment. “Fuck all of you. Don’t like it, go hang out somewhere else.”
“We like your coffee, Mike,” said Farrell. “Don’t get pissy on us.”
Kamps leaned in close and whispered, “I can’t find Roy.”
“What?” hollered Farrell. “Why didn’t you call me?”
Kamps shrugged. “I don’t ask for help from the cops.”
“When was the last time you saw him?” asked Farrell.
“Yesterday, around noon.”
“Where were you then? What part of the city?”
“He was standing outside one of the gay bars on Fourth with a couple of people, and that was the last time I saw him.”
“Think he’s in trouble?” asked Farrell.
Kamps shrugged. “Roy has a routine. He sleeps until about eleven, goes downtown between noon and one and hangs with his friends, then when the clubs get busy he works the gay bars.”
“We’ll look for him tonight,” said Farrell. “Where does he take his customers?”
“Not to a chain. He uses a mom and pop on Maple most of the time unless the customer is paying extra for an upgrade.”
“Okay,” said Farrell. “We’ll look for Roy. Now I need to ask you about the Cobras. Any rumors on who they’re supplying with the girls they’re grabbing?”
“I heard the snakes were trying for more revenue,” said Kamps, “and hooking up with some trafficking dudes.”
“Any names come to mind?”
“Let me think,” said Kamps, waiting to see how much Farrell was going to pay.
Farrell pulled his wallet out of his pocket and laid two Benjamin’s on the table. “This is really important.”
“Hey, I’m breaking my brain here.” Kamps screwed up his face and Carlos grinned. “Might be signing my ticket if I rat these fuckers out.” Kamps shook his bald head trying to make a decision. “Heavy hitters. Gotta be worth the risk.”
Farrell upped the ante. “Three.”
“Gimme your little book and I’ll write it down. I ain’t saying anything out loud.”
Farrell pulled his leather notebook out of his jacket pocket and pushed it across the table with a pen. He tried to read upside down as Kamps printed the names but couldn’t make them out.
2:00 a.m.
AFTER the meeting with Kamps, the Night Vipers cruised the downtown area and the east Austin area searching for Roy the Toy and saw no sign of him.
Before moving on to other business, Farrell wanted to check the motel on Maple. There was only the one on the entire street, probably built in the sixties. Long, low and stucco on the exterior, there were a dozen units with an office at the front. A red vacancy sign glowed in the window.
Farrell stepped inside the office and rang the night bell. An old man appeared from the back room, sleepy-eyed and disheveled. “You want a room?”
“No. I want to ask about Roy. Tall and slim with long silver hair. He comes here a lot. Is he here now?”
“He might have been here yesterday.” The guy waited and stared. “Or he might have checked out while I was sleeping last night. I don’t work twenty-four seven, you know.” They all wanted money for information.
“Didn’t anybody clean the room this morning?”
“Can’t remember.”
“Twenty bucks tells me which room he was in,” barked Farrell. He held the twenty in his hand until the man spewed out the number.
“Eight.”
Farrell slapped the bill on the counter. “Open number eight.”
“Fuck off. I ain’t disturbing the customers.”
Farrell pulled out his badge and smacked it on the counter. “Get the goddam key and march down to number eight and open it, or I’ll kick the fuckin door in.”
“No need to get nasty.” The old guy toddled over to the key rack, took the master key from its hook and shuffled out the door and along the cracked sidewalk.
The boys were sitting on their bikes in the parking lot trying to stay warm when Farrell came out with the manager. He motioned them to follow down the row to number eight.
The old guy stuck the key in the lock—they hadn’t upgraded to key cards at this establishment—and turned the knob. Farrell followed him into the musty smelling room and flicked on the light inside the door.
The room was sparsely furnished. One double bed, nightstand and an old dresser holding a box TV set. In the middle of the bed lay Roy. Unconscious and beaten. His face unrecognizable, blue and purple, swollen and encrusted with dried blood, but the hair was definitely Roy. Long and silver and spread out like wings under his bashed in head.
Farrell called 911, then turned to Carlos and said, “Send Cody and Billy across the street to that Dunkin Donuts for coffees and a dozen donuts. You and Mick come in here and get warm. We’re gonna be here for a while.”
Carlos nodded and went out while Farrell sat on the side of the bed feeling bad for Roy. “Who did this, buddy? I’ll kill the fucker when I catch him.”
The boys were back with the coffee and donuts a minute or so before the sirens announced the arrival of First Response. The paramedics were in the door and had Roy on a gurney in no time flat.
Farrell walked out to the ambulance as they were loading him and said, “Take my card and put him on Blackmore Agency medical. Call this number if there’s a problem and put him in a private room overnight. I’ll be along as soon as I’m done here.”
“Got it, Ranger Donovan. He’ll be at Saint Mike’s.”
The first officers on the scene took statements from all the boys and talked to the manager in the office. Farrell called Kamps on his cell.
“Found him at the motel beat to a freakin pulp. He’s at Saint Mike’s and I’ll head there next.”
“I owe you Donovan.”
That must have been hard for you to say.
4:30 a.m.
Saint Michael’s Hospital. Austin.
FARRELL sent the rest of the boys home and he and Carlos stopped in to check on Roy. According to the doc who’d treated Roy, they’d revived him in the Emergency room, given him fluids and sent him for X-rays. He had a couple of cracked ribs and would be black and blue all over for several days. Other than that, he would live.
Roy was on the third floor in a private room resting. Farrell and Carlos stepped into the darkened room and Farrell whispered, “Roy, are you awake?”
Roy moaned an unintelligible answer and Farrell edged closer to the bed.
“Sleep, buddy,” said Farrell. “I’ll be back tomorrow to get the name of the asshole who did this.”
5:30 a.m.
The Blackmore Agency. Austin.
BEFORE Farrell went upstairs to bed he left the names Kamps had given him on the alcove table for Blacky with a note of his own.
‘These are the guys the Cobras are supplying with girls.’
Vadim Sokolov
Alexi Lebedev
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Wednesday, January 18th.
6:00 a.m.
The Blackmore Agency. Austin.
Day Shift.
BLAINE shuffled downstairs to let Lexi out into the backyard. He had a quick smoke on the back porch and hurried back inside, it was so fuckin cold out and the forecast was for more of the same. One good thing had come out of the cold spell—he was smoking a helluva lot less.
The first thing he did was rinse the carafe and start a fresh pot of Panama blend. The second thing he did was plop down in his favorite spot at the little drop leaf table in the alcove.
That’s when he saw the note from Farrell. “Aces, bro. You are the best.” As soon as the coffee was ready, he poured a mugful and headed into his office.
7:00 a.m.
Coulter-Ross Ranch. La Grange.
ANNIE was showered, dressed and making coffee in the kitchen. Rosalie was buzzing around starting breakfast for the cowboys and Travis was sitting at the isl
and watching Annie and waiting on the coffee. “How’s your throat this morning, Annie-girl?”
Annie nodded and didn’t say anything.
“How are you going to talk to your lawyer if you can’t say anything?”
Annie shrugged and whispered, “I’ll work it out.”
“We going back to Santa Fe on the weekend to pick Jacks up and bring him home?”
Annie nodded. “Just the two of us.”
Travis smiled. “I’m for that.”
The front door opened, and a gust of wind blew in with Luc Lafontaine. With a face like a storm cloud, he crossed the kitchen and let go a barrage of Cajun French that the Rosetta Stone couldn’t decipher.
Annie understood and said, “I’m okay. Let it go.”
Luc flicked his long black hair in a defiant gesture. and he was gone as quickly as he’d come.
“Shit,” said Annie. “Now we’ve got trouble.”
“What did Luc say?” asked Travis. “I can never understand that guy, or his brother either.”
“He said Tyler was a dead man.”
“Great,” said Travis. He pulled his cell off his belt. “I’d better call Jesse.”
7:14 a.m.
Quantrall Ranch. Giddings.
JESSE and Tyler were at the barn with Paul doing morning chores when Jesse got the call from Travis. “Hey, Travis. What’s up so early in the morning?”
“Luc Lafontaine just got home from the bayou where he was finishing the work on his mother’s house and the boys in the barn told him about Annie. He stormed out of here and he might be on his way to Quantrall. Not sure, but a strong possibility.”
“Okay, thanks for the heads-up,” said Jesse. “I’ll watch for him.”
“What?” asked Tyler as he pitched a bale of straw into a stall.
“Luc Lafontaine might be on his way over. He just came home from his mother’s house and found out about Annie.”
“That big mother will want to kill me,” said Tyler.
“If he comes here, stay in the office and I’ll deal with him,” said Jesse. “Paulie will help me.”
“Then I’ll feel like a fuckin coward, hiding while my brothers fight my battles.”
“Better than getting dead,” said Paulie.
“You think I can’t take Luc?” asked Tyler.
“Don’t matter if you can take him or not. We don’t need any more fighting. If the cops are called, that’s one more strike against you if you go to trial, Tyler. Don’t do it.”
“Yeah, I heard what the lawyer said.” Tyler punched the side of the stall. “Really don’t matter what I do from here on in, I’m doing a big chunk of time and it’s all Annie’s fault.”
“Jesus, you’re not serious,” said Paul. “If you do time, bro, it’s all on you. Annie was way too lenient on you.”
Tyler snarled. “She ruined my life just like Brian said she would and I’m going to jail because of her.”
“You’re talking stupid, Ty,” said Jesse. “Finish your chores and go wash up for breakfast.”
“Don’t tell me what to do, Jesse. I ain’t listening to nobody anymore. From here on out, I do whatever Tyler wants.” He stood his straw fork up against the wall and stomped towards the doors.
The door opened and Luc Lafontaine strode in like he had a single purpose. He pointed a finger and hollered at Tyler in Cajun, then didn’t hesitate for a second. He hauled off and punched Tyler right square in the face. Tyler went down and Jesse and Paul ran the length of the stalls to help their brother.
“Don’t, Luc,” hollered Jesse. “Leave him alone.”
Paul bent down and tried to pull Luc off Tyler. The big Cajun was pounding Tyler over and over in the face and Tyler’s face was one huge smear of blood.
A couple of the hired hands heard the ruckus and ran to help. It took Paul and two of the hands to get Luc pried off Tyler. Red in the face and furious, Luc was wild and had the added strength of adrenaline on his side. Jamie, the ranch foreman, and one of the helpers shoved Luc out the barn door and locked it from the inside.
Jesse stared down at his brother. “Jesus, Ty, look at the mess he made of you.”
Tyler moaned once and it was lights out.
8:00 a.m.
The Blackmore Agency. Austin.
BLAINE checked his watch for the third time and Jesse still hadn’t arrived. Interviews to do and Jesse was the man for the job, but he hadn’t shown up. Maybe there was a problem. “Hang on for a sec, guys. I want to check on Jesse.” He walked over to the window and called.
“Oh, Blacky, shit. I forgot to call and say I’d go straight to DPS when I finished with Tyler.”
“What’s going on?”
“We’re waiting in Emergency. Luc Lafontaine showed up at the barn this morning and beat the living crap out of Tyler.”
“Oh, shit. Okay, just go to headquarters when you can, and we’ll talk there.”
“Copy that, partner.”
“Jesse okay?” asked Lil as Blaine returned to the table.
Blaine nodded. “He’ll meet me at DPS. He’s okay.” Blaine checked his notes. “Luke and Fletch are on Deleon. Y’all know what you’re specifically listening for there.”
“We do, boss,” said Luke.
“Rob and Lil are on Theriault’s arraignment. Stay right on his ass because as soon as I talk to Jason Goodall, we’re arresting Theriault again.”
“Even if Goodall ain’t saying anything, boss?” asked Fletch.
“Theriault won’t know that, will he?” asked Blaine.
“Nope.”
“After that we’ll regroup. Farrell got us a lead on where the grabbed girls are being sent. We have a couple of addresses to check out and I’m working on more in-depth research into who these guys are.”
9:00 a.m.
Ranger Headquarters. Austin.
THE minute Blaine arrived at DPS he headed to the lab to see if Sue had anything on Theriault from the search of Jason Goodall’s residence in San Antone. He needed a link—desperately.
Sue smiled when he walked through the door. “I rushed everything through for you, Blaine. I know the arraignment is this morning.”
“You look happy, like you found something solid.”
Sue nodded her head. “Theriault’s prints are on the envelope we found at Goodall’s place in San Antonio. You can prove the transfer of funds.”
“Almost prove it,” said Blaine. “The envelope was empty, but I’ll get the documentation I need. This is enough to charge him and go to the DA.” Blaine gave Sue a thumbs up. “You’re the best, Sue.”
She giggled. “Don’t I know it?”
Blaine tore up the stairs and called Lil from the Chief’s office.
“Hey, boss, we’re just getting to the courthouse.”
“Theriault’s prints are on the envelope we found at Goodall’s house. Arrest him and bring him in. Premeditated murder.”
“Copy that, boss.”
9:30 a.m.
JESSE arrived just as Blaine was going into interrogation room two to question Jason Goodall. “I’m here, partner. Sorry about the delay. Tyler is a head case and he’s taking up a lot of my time.”
“Did he stay in the hospital?”
“No, Paulie waited there to bring him home and I left.”
“I better give Annie a heads-up. She might want to speak to Luc.”
“The guy was a raging bull this morning,” said Jesse. “Took Jamie, Paul and a couple of hands to get him off Ty.”
“Jeeze,” said Blaine. “I’ll tell Annie to cool him out and keep him away from your ranch.”
“Ty brought this on himself,” said Jesse, “and no one feels worse about what he did to Annie than I do. I still can’t make myself believe my brother would do something like that.”
“Not your fault, partner, and you can’t take the blame.”
Jesse opened the door and went into room two where Jason Goodall waited. “Morning, Jason.”
“It ain’t a good morni
ng for me.” He jerked against the wrist that was attached to the table and the cuff made a clanking sound. “Who are you?”
“Ranger Jesse Quantrall.” Jesse sat down, set up the interview and opened his briefcase. “Okay, it’s been a helluva morning for me too. Tell me all about your little deal with Arlie Theriault. We know he paid you to kill Congressman Dan Flaherty and we can prove it. Theriault is being arrested and brought in right now.”
“Don’t know him. Never heard of him.”
Jesse blew out a breath and tried to calm himself. He was still way too hyped over the fight at the barn. “Okay, let’s say you don’t know Arlie Theriault. He’s a stranger. Tell me how an envelope with Theriault’s prints on it ended up in your house in San Antonio?”
Goodall shrugged. “Somebody’s trying to frame me, that’s how.”
Jesse smiled. “Frame you? That’s a good one. The lab found a large quantity of illegal substances lying around your place—enough to put you away for a few even without the murder charge.”
“Enough of this bullshit. I want a lawyer.”
“Uh huh,” said Jesse. “That’s your right. Maybe after you talk to a lawyer, you’ll see the value in giving up Theriault.”
“Yeah, and maybe I won’t.”
Jesse smiled. “Fifty-fifty.”
9:45 a.m.
Coulter-Ross Ranch. La Grange.
ANNIE was about to leave for the store when Blaine called. “Hey, sugar pop.”
“Hi, Mom. Jesse just arrived here at DPS and told me Luc came to Quantrall this morning and beat Ty up at the barn.”
“He did? Luc is upset but I knew nothing about that. Thanks for telling me, honey.”
“I thought maybe you could cool him out a little. Jesse is coping with a lot right now.”
“Tyler is behaving badly,” said Annie.
“Behaving badly, Mom? You can’t excuse what he’s done even if he is your husband. The asshole tried to kill you.”
“That would upset Jesse,” said Annie. “He still loves me.”
“Of course, he does.”
“Uh huh. For sure, I’ll talk to Luc right away.”
“Thanks, Mom. Love you.”
Annie set her cell on the counter. Travis was watching her closely and giving her the stink-eye. “What’s happening? You’ve got a weird look on your face.”