by Carolina Mac
That got a rare half smile from Nate. “Good point.”
“Let’s stop by the Silver Spur before we leave. I want to check on Becca.”
Nate glared. “Why? Was Mason right? Are you messing with her?”
“No, but I’m thinking hard on it. Can’t stand the way Mason treats her and I guess that makes me guilty. She was having a rough time with one of her customers and needed a hand, that’s all it was. She’s only a small woman.”
“What kind of a rough time?”
“That crack head, Liz, wanted to make a buy and Becca was out of product. Liz didn’t believe her and went nutso.”
“Jesus,” said Nate, “so what did you do to help her?”
“Oh, I just helped her get the dogs back in the pen and shit like that,” said Harlan.
“Why in hell did she let the dogs out?” asked Nate. “Those hounds are vicious.”
“Umm… she was trying to scare Liz away, I guess.”
Nate frowned. “Doesn’t make a lick of sense to me.”
“Guess it was all Becca could think of.” Harlan shrugged, then winced when his head hurt. “But I’ll tell you one thing, Nate, I’m fed up with Mason beatin on her like he does. No call for it.”
“I’ll talk to him,” said Nate.
Austin.
THE NIGHT WAS HOT, but it didn’t matter to Mason. He’d left all his cares behind in the trailer park. The windows were down in the Camaro and the CD player blasted out one of his favorite songs by Luke Bryan. Mason sang along as Luke belted out, ‘hold my beer’, then he heard the siren behind him.
“Shit was I speeding?” He pulled over, stopped and dug out his license and the new registration for the Camaro. He handed it out the window to the Trooper before he even asked.
“Ninety in a seventy-five.” The Trooper handed him back his paperwork along with a ticket for a hundred bucks.
Mason glared at the ticket and choked back the words he wanted to say. “Thank you, sir.” Mason touched the brim of his Astro’s cap as the Trooper turned and walked back to his SUV.
Better watch my speed. Don’t even notice it in this baby.
He cruised through the west end of Austin and enjoyed his drive up into the hills. He found a parking spot down the road from the governor lady’s house, turned off the engine and lit up a smoke. He could see the front of her house perfectly from where he sat, but only the front. The light was on beside the front door. Looked like a big lantern and Mason liked it a lot. Maybe he’d get one like it for the trailer if it didn’t cost too much.
West Austin.
GINNY RODRIGUEZ was elated to have a night off. She’d been campaigning steadily for the past few months and it was wearing on her. She was only human and needed down time like everybody else.
The house was cool and the solitude restorative. She’d sent her housekeeper home early, then changed into shorts and a tank top before making dinner. A simple chicken salad with a glass of white wine was all she wanted. She read the paper while she ate, put her plate and fork in the dishwasher and headed upstairs to relax.
Thinking about what movie she wanted to watch, Ginny ambled across the bedroom she now slept in—a smaller room at the front of the house she’d redecorated in shades of blue after her husband died—pulled back the sheer curtain and peered down at the street. From this elevation, she could see most of the city, and at night Austin sparkled.
Only two or three cars were parked on the street and she knew who they belonged to, all but one. This neighborhood rarely attracted anyone other than the residents.
I don’t know who drives a red Camaro.
She focused on the car for a moment longer and realized someone was sitting in the driver’s seat. She could see the glow of his cigarette.
He’s looking up here at me.
A shiver ran up her spine and she closed the curtain quickly. After the threats made against her and the close calls she’d had earlier in the campaign, she wasn’t taking any chances.
Heart thumping out a rapid rhythm, she sat on the side of the bed and pressed his contact number.
He answered on the first ring. “Ginny, are you okay?”
“I need you, Travis.”
Marriott. Austin Airport.
HARLAN DROVE his truck through the rows of parked vehicles while Nate made his choice. “I’m glad we didn’t come on the bike tonight,” said Harlan, his head throbbing so bad he couldn’t stand to crank up the radio like he usually did.
“Not a good idea with your head bashed in, and it’s good to change up our vehicles anyway,” said Nate. “People see the same thing a couple times and we’re made.”
“Yeah, that’s right.”
“Stop here,” said Nate, “I’ll try that Beemer. Circle around once.”
Harlan drove all the way down the row, made the turn and cruised up the next aisle of parked cars. When he got back to Nate he jammed the brakes on, reached behind the seat for the tire iron, and jumped out to help his brother.
CHAPTER THREE
Thursday, August 9th.
Hilton Hotel. Abilene.
BLAINE CHECKED OUT of the Hilton after he and Jack finished breakfast in the dining room.
Jack loaded their cases into the back of the truck. “You nervous about seeing your old house, boss?”
“A little, I guess,” said Blaine, “I always wonder in situations like this whether I’ll remember something, but I never have yet. Probably never will.”
“Don’t say never,” said Jack as he started up the big diesel. “Might surprise yourself.”
Blaine programmed the address into the GPS. “Shouldn’t take us more than ten minutes to get there.”
Jack parked out front and Blaine didn’t move. Just sat and stared out the window at the house where he grew up. A neat, white bungalow in a middle-class neighborhood, older houses on large lots, nothing out of the ordinary.
If they were in witness protection, this is exactly the type of street they would live on to blend in.
“Anything?”
Blaine shook his head. “Like I never saw this house before in my life. Annoying, that’s what it is.”
“Let’s go in,” said Jack. “The lady is expecting us?”
“Yep. Let’s do it.”
Blaine knocked, and Millie Hampton opened the door wearing a big smile. “I can’t believe I’m finally getting to meet you, young man. Please come in.”
“Thank you for seeing me, Mrs. Hampton. This is Jack Prima, my… assistant.”
Mrs. Hampton watched Blaine carefully as he stepped into the narrow front hall. “Are you all right, dear? It looks like it hurts you to walk.”
“I have a couple of cracked ribs, and I’m taped up pretty tight,” said Blaine. “I’m okay.”
She pointed to a room off the foyer. “Have a seat in here and I’ll get us some coffee.”
“Coffee would be fantastic,” said Blaine. He drank in the details of the tiny living room, hoping for any kind of a spark. Pale green walls, hardwood floors, a tiny fireplace against the outside wall with a hearth tiled in pale green. He stared at the tiles thinking something felt familiar about them, but nothing came. The furniture belonged to the Hampton’s—beige sofa and matching chairs. Nothing.
Mrs. Hampton returned with a tray and set it on the coffee table. A tiny woman, the tray looked too heavy for her. She filled three cups and let the men fix their coffee the way they liked it. “Have a muffin. They just came out of the oven.”
Jack took one and bit into it. “Mmm… still warm.”
Blaine couldn’t eat. He wasn’t sure he could swallow. “What I wanted to talk to you about, Mrs. Hampton, was personal items. When you took possession of the house, was there anything left behind or was the place totally cleaned out?”
“I see, dear. You’re looking for family items. Mementos of your parents.” She pulled her yellow apron up and dabbed at her eyes. “I wish I had something for you.”
“So there was nothing?”
“Nothing that I saw. Whoever cleaned the house before we moved in—I seem to remember it was a company hired by the real estate broker—they had done a stellar job. The house was spotless.”
“Closets… basement… everything?”
Mrs. Hampton stared at her hands for a moment then tilted her gray head to one side. “You know, dear, in all the years Carl and I have lived here, we’ve never been in the attic. One of those awkward pull-down things to get to it. We didn’t need the storage, and I’m afraid of bats, so I never bothered.”
Blaine felt his breath leave his body. “Would you mind if I went up there and looked?”
Mrs. Hampton held up a hand. “What if you found something and it made you sad?”
“That could happen, but I’m willing to chance it if I find something… anything that belonged to my parents.”
“If you’re sure you can handle it, why don’t you go ahead, then. I’ll show you. The access is in the hall.”
Jack and Blaine followed her into the hallway, and at the end, near the entrance to the two bedrooms, she pointed up.
“I won’t be able to do it, Jack,” said Blaine. He reached one arm up as high as he could and winced in pain.
“Would you mind if I stood on a chair to reach the latch?” asked Jack.
“There’s a step-stool in the kitchen, dear.”
Jack returned with the stool. He placed it under the trimmed-out square in the ceiling and flipped the two steps of the stool down. Balancing on the top step, he easily reached the release and pulled the ladder down. A small cloud of fine dust descended like a mist onto the floor of the hallway.
“We’re making a mess,” said Blaine, “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it,” said Mrs. Hampton. “I have a broom. I want you to do this. I can see how important it is to you.”
Jack moved the stool out of the way and clambered up the ladder.
Blaine gave him a minute and then called up, “Anything?”
“Nothing up here but three dusty boxes with your name on them, boss.”
Ranger Headquarters. Austin.
FARRELL SET a Starbuck’s container in front of the Chief and sat down on the other side of the desk.
“Where’s Major Bristol?” asked the Chief. He sometimes referred to Travis by his former military title.
“Emergency,” said Farrell. “Ginny, I mean, Doctor Rodriguez needed to see him on an urgent matter.”
The chief raised an auburn eyebrow. “How urgent?”
“Don’t know yet. Guess we’ll hear about it soon enough.”
“He’s not following his dick and quitting again, is he?”
“Better not be,” said Farrell, “I’m the only one of our crew working, and I’m not supposed to be.” He eyed the Chief. “Whoops, shouldn’t have mentioned that.”
“Farrell, what the hell are you not telling me? What’s the status of your wound?”
“Hey, Chief, I’m good to go as long as I don’t have to move too quick.”
“Jesus, have we got anybody that’s healthy on our team?”
“Only Travis, and he’s got other things on his mind.”
“Shit,” said the Chief. “That boy needs to get his focus back. Never mind, let’s get down to it.”
“You said the beating at the airport last night might be related to our case?”
“Might be. The guy was unconscious and bleeding from the head when the uniforms found him. I want you to go to the hospital and see what you can find out.”
“Was his car gone?”
A nod from the Chief as he read from the report. “Beemer, silver gray. There’s a BOLO out on it.”
“They’re targeting high end cars, but then all car thieves do that,” said Farrell. His personal knowledge of boosting cars was all too fresh in his head. “Better for quick resale.” He stood up and picked up his copy of the reports. “Break for us, Chief. The guy ain’t dead. At least, not yet.”
Cherokee Trailer Park.
MASON WOKE early, feeling excited and more alive than he’d felt in months. He left Becca sleeping for the moment, although the sight of her lying there all peaceful-like, made him want to pound out some answers about her and Harlan. They were getting it on. He could feel it, but he had more important things on his mind. He’d deal with the two of them later.
Mason strode to the kitchen in his boxers to make coffee and forgot about Becca and his brother. Nothing would ruin today for him. A new path stretched in front of him. A new romance unfolding—the Mason and Virginia love story, just like on TV—and he couldn’t wait to get started.
Wonder what time she gets up in the morning?
A smile spread across his face thinking about Virginia getting up in the morning and walking around naked. He could almost see her in the kitchen fetching his coffee without a stitch on.
Soon. That will be soon.
BECCA HEARD MASON rattling around in the kitchen and even though she was exhausted from working late the night before, she forced herself to get out of bed. She didn’t know what was going on with him, but for sure something was. This big change in his routine and his personality was making her nervous and she needed to find out what was up.
She poured herself a coffee from the fresh pot, sat down opposite him at the table and lit up a smoke. “Hey, barely saw you yesterday. You been busy?”
“Uh huh. We’re super busy at the shop. Things are going great.”
Becca nodded and took a long hard look at him. “You shaved everything off your face?”
There was a flicker in his dark eyes and then it was gone. “Needed a change,” he mumbled, then changed the subject. “What was Harlan doing out here so long yesterday? He coming on to you?”
“Nope, he wasn’t. I had a problem with Liz and he helped me when I couldn’t get hold of you.”
“You expect me to believe that was all there was to it?”
“Believe what you want, Mason. You will anyway.”
“What’s what supposed to mean?”
“You make up a lie about me and then you believe it and tell it to all your friends like it’s the truth. You’ve done it more than once. There’s something seriously wrong with your head.”
Mason jumped up and was rounding the table when there was a loud pounding on the door.
“We’ll settle this later.” He jogged to the door and ripped it open. “Liz, what the hell do you want?”
“Butch disappeared. He’s been gone since yesterday and I want you to help me look for him.”
“What?”
Liz was sobbing and screaming at the same time. “Butch is gone, and I got no money for a hit. I need him back so bad.”
“Go on home, Liz. We ain’t seen Butch, have we Becca?”
“Nope. Maybe he’s gone hunting.”
“Yeah,” said Mason. “He’s gone hunting.”
Still wailing, Liz turned and limped down the steps.
Mason strode back to the kitchen. “See that, Becca. Liz was no problem today. That is one sick scrawny woman. She ain’t got an ounce of strength in her strung-out body. Sure as hell you and Harlan are lying about yesterday.” He pounded the table. “You tell me right now what really happened.”
“Or what?”
Mason started laughing. “Do you want to find out?” He jumped up and tipped the table over, knocking Becca backwards off her chair. Dishes, coffee mugs, beer cans, and ashtrays full of butts clattered to the floor.
Becca screamed as hot coffee from her mug burned her as she fell. She scrambled and tried to get out from under the table before Mason got to her. He grabbed her arm and dragged her across the kitchen. Then he let go.
Nate had come through the door, grabbed hold of Mason’s shirt and knocked him down. “Stop beating on Becca,” Nate hollered as he gave Mason two good ones to the face, his biker rings cutting through the skin. “Tell me you’re gonna stop or I’ll kill you, I swear it.” Nate twisted the neck of Mason’s shirt in his fist and
smashed his brother’s head into the tile floor over and over. “Say it. Say you’re done.”
“Okay, I’m done,” said Mason in no more than a whisper. Blood seeped out the side of his mouth. “I’m done.”
Nate let go, walked over and helped Becca to her feet. “Pack some stuff, I’m taking you to Harlan’s place in town until we decide what to do with this asshole.” Nate turned and spit on the floor beside Mason. “You ain’t my brother no more.”
West Austin.
TRAVIS ARRIVED at Ginny’s house at nine-thirty. He stood on the wide flagstone steps leading to the front door, the August sun beating down on him and making him sweat through his shirt, while he waited for the housekeeper to let him in.
A large older lady in a gray uniform, Isabel had worked for Ginny for years. Travis liked her. They’d met before, and she had a friendly smile for him as she showed him into the sitting room to the right of the foyer. “I’ll tell Doctor Rodriguez that you’re here, Deputy Bristol.”
“Thank you, Isabel.” Travis glanced around the sitting room he’d been in once before and nothing had changed. Ginny liked cool pale colors and this room was painted a light silver gray, the sofa and chairs were a darker gray leather. The only bright colors he’d seen were her clothes. Gold and red and emerald green looked amazing against her Latino complexion.
It was only a couple of minutes before Ginny came down stairs dressed in a beige linen suit. Travis stood, not knowing how formal the meeting was going to be after the way they had parted weeks before, but Ginny walked straight into his arms. He held her close and stroked her long black hair. “Do you want to tell me what happened?”
She nodded, then sat beside him on the sofa. “I want to apologize for the way things turned out for us, Travis. You expected more, and I take full responsibility for that. I thought I was ready for a new relationship, I led you to believe I was ready, and then I wasn’t.”
“It’s okay. I managed.”
She shook her head. “It’s not okay. I don’t treat people like that. Especially not people I care a great deal for.”