by Carolina Mac
On the way out the door, she shrugged on her leather jacket, grabbed her keys and a pair of leather gloves.
Ross Harley Davidson. East Austin.
ANNIE parked at the back of the building close to the overhead doors and let herself in the side door with her key. She entered the security code in the panel by the back door and let out her breath when the green light came on. So silent inside without her boys working, it seemed a little eerie. The fridge in the lunchroom hummed and made the only sound.
She flicked on the light and threaded her way between bikes that were under repair, or stripped down to be repainted, to the workbench where Mack said the tag would be.
It was there with a note underneath it.
Be careful, Annie. We love you.
She shoved the tag and the note into her pocket, reset the alarm, turned off the lights and locked the door behind her.
Red’s Bar and Grille. East Austin.
GAGE swaggered back to their booth with another pitcher of Miller. They’d been hanging here at the bar across the road from the EZ-Rest since seven when they got hungry and came looking for burgers.
Hondo was drunk, his chin resting on his chest and he was snoring. The prospects were drunk too, but not drunk enough to shut the fuck up.
“How long we gonna wait for Santana?” asked Pig. “I got pressing business in El Paso.”
Gage filled his glass from the pitcher and gave the piece of filth the finger. “We’ll wait as long as I say. Shut up or I’ll cut your tongue out.”
Hondo’s cell was on the table. They’d been watching it all day and it never made a sound. When it beeped they all jumped, and Gage grabbed for it. He punched Hondo in the shoulder to wake him up. “Tracker is moving.”
Hondo tried to lift his head and couldn’t do it. “What?” He opened his eyes for a second then closed them again. Slobber rolled down his chin onto his vest.
Gage handed Hondo’s cell off to Walt. “You know what to do,” he snarled at them, “Y’all have talked about it enough. Let’s see what y’all are made of.” He followed the two prospects outside while they started their rides.
Walt had trouble. His Sportster didn’t want to start in the cold. Finally, he got it rumbling and kept it going with his hand on the throttle. Pig got his Fat Boy running and they were ready to go.
“Do the job, then meet us at the motel.”
Abandoned Building. Dead end. East Austin.
A FEW months ago, the president of The Rule MC had rented a cinderblock building near the airport thinking the club would expand their operation out of Nevada into Texas. Things changed for them suddenly and their Austin branch never became a reality.
Annie drove her dark blue Ram to the Rule’s empty rental unit. The empty shell sat alone at the edge of a vacant field down a dead-end street running east off Airport Road. A perfect location for a bike club, but not much else. She parked around the side of the building out of sight, jogged around to the front and placed the tracker on the window sill.
Using the maintenance ladder at the back of the building, she climbed to the roof with her rifle slung over her shoulder. The roof was flat and a little icy in places from the recent freak storm, so she took extra care as she crossed from the ladder to the front of the building. An eighteen-inch wall ran around the perimeter of the roof and provided a perfect resting place for her rifle.
She knelt down, slightly sheltered from the wind behind the wall. The sightlines were optimum. The wind was a little stiff out of the north east and she’d have to allow for it. She tightened the screws on the scope with her pocket screwdriver, then crouched down and waited.
The Varmints shouldn’t be too far away if they were hanging around the EZ-Rest—a bottom of the barrel dump where bikers were always welcome. The run-down motel was only five minutes from her position.
Annie heard the rumble before she saw the bikes. She peeked over the wall and saw two headlights coming down Airport Road. “Two?” The boss sent prospects to do the wet work while he smoked a joint.
Single file, the two bikes turned off Airport Road onto the dead-end street, then turned right into the parking area below her. Annie relaxed her breathing and waited for them to come to a full stop. They sat below her, engines running and talked to each other. She gently squeezed the trigger.
Once. Twice.
Two quick pops and she was finished.
She shone her phone light down at her feet, found her brass and shoved the empty cartridges into her pocket. She scrambled down from the roof, stashed her rifle in the back seat of her truck, then started the engine. She skirted around the downed bikes, stopped long enough to retrieve the tracker from the window, then pulled into the roadway.
Annie shivered once and turned up the heat as she headed for home. The wind had been chilly up on the roof.
Coulter-Ross Ranch. La Grange.
AS SHE crawled into bed she received the text.
“Job done?”
“Yes, sir.”
“That’s my girl.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Thursday, November 8th.
EZ-Rest Motel. East Austin.
HONDO woke with a huge headache. He staggered into the bathroom, fell to his knees and puked in the toilet. He retched until his gut hurt, then laid on the cold tiles next to the tub for he didn’t know how long. Finally, he opened his eyes, let out a moan and tried to pull himself together. Leaning on the toilet for support, he got to his feet, opened the bathroom door and stumbled back to bed.
That’s when he noticed Pig and Walt weren’t in the room. “Where the hell are they?” he hollered.
Gage woke up and glared at him. “What the hell are you yelling for?”
Hondo pointed at the empty bed. “Those assholes never came back.”
Gage sat on the side of the bed and lit up a smoke. “Don’t fuckin worry about it. They probably went out to celebrate. Phone them.”
“They’ve got my phone.”
Gage almost smiled. “Yeah, they do.”
“I told the jerks to come back here when the job was done.”
“Yeah, well they didn’t.”
Hondo sat down on the empty bed and let out a groan. “Go get me some coffee.”
“Fuck yourself up the ass.”
Coulter-Ross Ranch. La Grange.
ANNIE was loading the dishwasher after breakfast when Santana called. “I miss you, Annie.”
“Hey, I miss you too. How’s Bianca?”
“She was sitting up when I left her last night. She’s improving.”
I’m not telling him about the hit.
“Enjoy the weather down there. It’s freezing here in Texas. We had a freak snowstorm.”
Santana laughed. “Glad I missed it.”
Annie didn’t have much to tell Santana and the conversation was brief. She pressed end and Jesse was calling.
“Hey, cowboy.”
“Are you home, sweetheart?”
“Yes, Jackson and I came back yesterday. Bianca had a stroke and she’s in the hospital. Santana stayed with her.”
“I didn’t know George had a brother,” said Jesse.
“Me neither until I got the letter from Bianca asking me to find him.”
“And the two of you are… what? Friends? More than friends?”
Annie felt prickles up the back of her neck. Even if he was the one who left her, Jesse was still jealous and possessive. It was none of his business what she did any more, but still she bore the guilt. She pressed end before saying something she’d regret.
Blackmore Agency. Austin.
BLAINE refilled his coffee from the fresh pot on the warmer and sat down at the table. “Okay, Let’s get caught up. Yesterday was a busy one, a lot happened, and I don’t want anything to fall through the cracks.”
“I’ll start,” said Farrell. “This kind of caught me off guard. Pissed me off when it happened, but I’ll lay it out there and y’all can chew on it.”
“Sounds like
whatever it was annoyed you more than a little,” said Travis.
“Did too,” said Farrell. “When I went to get the Juanita Andrews warrant signed by Judge Campbell at the courthouse she offered me a job.”
Blaine’s eyes flashed. “She did what?”
“She asked me to come on over to the Capitol when she took power and head up her security team.”
“I’ll fuckin kill her,” said Blaine. He hopped off his chair and dashed into the foyer as he pressed her number.
“Hey, sweetie, nice to hear from you.”
“Don’t,” Blaine hollered. “Be at the Grille at noon. We’re having a serious discussion.”
“Can’t wait.”
Blaine’s face felt hot as he returned to the table. “I need space from her.” To Farrell: “Afterthought—you didn’t say yes to her, did you?”
Farrell snorted. “Nope.”
Blaine blew out a breath. “Okay, let’s keep going. Lil, start on the storage units. See if any have been rented in the one of the three names we have.”
“Yep.” Lil wrote it on her yellow pad.
“Farrell, go to the lab and to ballistics and see if we got anything from yesterday.”
“Uh huh.”
“Jesse has an appointment at headquarters at ten to question Marko Balboa with his attorney present.”
“What are you gonna be doing, boss?”
“Fletch and I are going to the hospital to see what kind of a mess Hammer is in and how long he’ll be off work, then I’ll catch up with the rest of y’all.”
Travis held up a hand. “I don’t know if Carm mentioned it, but Misty came to visit yesterday and brought me healing salve that she made. I tried it and it feels nice.”
Blaine shrugged. “She can make all the salve she wants, and I don’t mind her coming over to visit. It’s just that… sometimes she makes me crazy. Did she bring Hoodoo?”
“Uh huh. Lexi was happy. They played out back.”
Saint Michael’s Hospital. Austin.
BLAINE made a couple of inquiries at reception in the lobby and found Hammer in a room on the surgical floor. “Should have been here sooner, but things went to hell in a handbasket yesterday, Hammer. Sorry you got hurt on the job. I’m covered for everything, so there are no worries for you there.”
“Okay, thanks, boss. I was a bit worried about the cost.”
“Don’t be. You’ll get everything you need.”
“All I need is to get out of here.”
“Tell me exactly what went down at Fogarty’s. I got Lil’s version, but she was chasing the shooter at the time.”
“She’s strong,” said Hammer, “and she had my back. I was lying on the ground, but I watched her tackle the guy who shot me and take him down.”
“Black belt,” said Blaine. “Deadly.”
Fletcher raised an eyebrow.
Hammer gave his version of the story, then a lady came into the room to visit him and brought him a couple of paperbacks and a container of pecan tarts. “This is my Mother.” He introduced Blaine and Fletcher.
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Blackmore. I’ve seen you on TV.”
I hate it when they say that.
“See you later,” said Blaine. He stopped at the nurses’ station on the way out and made sure they had all the Agency information for billing.
I-Hop. Airport Road. East Austin.
“TRY them again,” said Hondo as the waitress filled his coffee mug for the third time. “They’ve gotta be somewhere close by.”
“Maybe they did the job and went back to camp,” said Gage.
Hondo shook his head. “They wouldn’t do that. I told them to come to the motel.”
Gage tried again and listened until it went to message. “They ain’t answering any of the phones. Not even yours.”
“I’ll kill them for this,” said Hondo. “Count on it.”
Ranger Headquarters. Austin.
FARRELL checked with ballistics and they hadn’t finished with any of the guns brought in the day before. The murder weapon could be the one Pedro shot at Blacky, the one Fletch found taped behind Pedro’s fridge, the one Marko Balboa shot at Hammer, one of Juanita’s that they hadn’t found, or… none of the above.
Sue, a tall brunette who headed up the forensics’ team flashed a big smile at Farrell as he came in the door. “Nice to see you in person, Farrell.”
“Dropped by to check on all our guns in ballistics and to see if you caught anything.”
“Not yet, but we have a lot to process from the apartments and also from the flea market booth. If we can pick up prints from the robbery victims on any of that stuff, we’d be a step closer.”
“Hope the gang of thieves didn’t have time to wipe it all down.”
JESSE entered room three where Marko Balboa waited with his attorney, Darius Westerly. A huge black man with an even bigger dose of attitude.
“Mr. Westerly, Mr. Balboa, good morning, are we ready to begin?”
“My client will answer only the questions that I advise him to answer, Ranger Quantrall.”
Jesse smiled. “How did I know that, sir?” Jesse pressed play on the small recorder and asked his first question. “Mr. Balboa, where were you on the night of October 29th?”
Balboa shrugged. “Don’t remember.”
“When you are in court defending yourself against felony murder,” said Jesse, “you will need to remember, sir. You will need a solid corroborated alibi, or you will be moving to death row at Huntsville.”
Balboa looked at his lawyer and Westerly held up a large hand to caution him.
“We have your gun from yesterday, Mr. Balboa. The one you shot an officer with at the flea market. Is that gun going to match the bullet that killed Mrs. Melanchuck? If it is, you better get your affairs in order. You are headed straight for the needle.”
“You can’t threaten my client like you’re doing, Ranger Quantrall. He has rights.”
“I’m not threatening Mr. Balboa, sir. I’m simply telling him what will happen to him in the near future. He has his attorney present to advise him, Mr. Westerly. His rights are being recognized.”
Westerly scribbled on his yellow pad.
Jesse continued. “Was it you who killed Mrs. Melanchuck when she woke up and came down the stairs and surprised y’all? Or was it one of the others on your team?”
Westerly held up a meaty hand.
Marko stared at Jesse and didn’t waiver. “I want out of here.” He turned to his lawyer. “Can’t you get me out of here?”
“Besides suspicion of murdering Mrs. Melanchuck, Mr. Balboa is being held on an attempted murder charge. He shot a member of the Violent Crime Squad yesterday. There will be no bail.”
“We’ll see about that,” said Westerly.
AFTER the visit to Hammer in the hospital, Blaine and Fletcher stopped by headquarters. Jesse stood in the hall outside the interrogation rooms talking to Chief Calhoun.
“Anything?” asked Blaine.
Jesse shook his head.
“I’m going to talk to Pedro for a minute,” said Blaine.
Jesse chuckled. “He’s not that fond of you.”
“Why? Because I shot him?”
Downstairs, Blaine knocked on the infirmary door and waited for entry. He and Fletch walked past two other patients and stood beside Pedro Vasquez’ bed.
“I ain’t talking to no Latino ganger,” said Pedro, “so y’all can piss right off and vacate my space.”
“You sure?” asked Blaine. “Nothing you want to tell me that would get your ass out of here?”
Pedro smiled. “The bed’s nice and the food ain’t half bad. I’m starting to like it here.”
The Capitol Grille. Downtown Austin.
MR. BLACKMORE, good afternoon. Can I get you a table?”
“I’m meeting Judge Campbell. Is she here yet?”
Kim, the longtime hostess at the Grille flashed a smile. “Our lovely new Governor? Yes, she is here. Let me show you where she
’s sitting.”
Blaine took a breath before he sat down opposite Cat, hoping he wouldn’t lose it in a public place. He leaned across the table and whispered, “You betrayed me and tried to undermine my organization.”
She smiled. “Oh, come on, sugar. It wasn’t that serious.”
“Fuck you, Campbell. You mess with my family and you’re dead to me.”
Her face flushed pink and she pointed a fork at him. “You can’t speak to me like that.”
“I won’t speak to you at all.”
He got up and left.
BLAINE sat in his truck in the parking lot behind the Grille. Still fuming, his heart thumping in his chest, he lit a smoke and tried to remember when he’d ever been so furious. His cell rang, and he felt like letting it ring and go to message. If it was her, he’d let it do just that. He glanced at the screen. Lieutenant Lopez from Austin homicide.
“Loot, nice to hear your voice.”
“Don’t bullshit me, Blacky.”
Blaine chuckled and released some of his tension. “What’s up?”
“Something weird happened and this is my story. One of the runway guys at the airport saw a pack of coyotes running across the tarmac, howling and yipping, with a destination in mind. He followed them and found them chewing on a couple of dead bikers.”
“Shit. Where were they?”
“That’s where it gets interesting and ticks one of your boxes. They were at a building leased by The Rule.”
“Were they wearing cuts?”
“Yep, and this is another weird part. They were Varmints. A nothing club from out by El Paso. What the hell are they doing in Austin?”
I know exactly what they’re doing.
“Want me to take a look at the scene?”
“If you don’t mind, kid. Two less corpses for me to worry about.”
“I’m heading out there now. I’m downtown, so twenty minutes.”
“I’ll put the world on hold for you.”
Blaine called Farrell’s cell. “Meet me at the building The Rule rented a while ago and bring Fletcher with you.”