Hole in the Heart

by Carolina Mac

  Annie ran from the kitchen into the foyer to hug him. “Hey, baby boy. I’m just visiting with your family and having some tea with Misty.”

  Blaine beamed a smile. “I’m happy you came by.” He gave her another hug and kissed her again. Declan watched with interest then turned his gaze on Misty.

  She sipped her tea and smiled.

  “Isn’t Travis coming in?” asked Annie.

  “Not right now. They have work to do out by Lady Bird Lake.” Blaine waited for more and didn’t hear it. “Did you want him for… something?”

  Annie shook her head and smiled. “Nope. I’m good.”

  2:15 p.m.

  TRAVIS AND FLETCHER followed the GPS to John Hilder’s rented condo in one of the many complexes that had sprung up like mushrooms out in the west end of the city.

  “Jeeze,” said Fletcher, looking down the long row of similar units. “You wouldn’t want to come home drunk, you could end up in bed with your neighbor’s wife.”

  Travis chuckled. “Bet that happened already a time or two.”

  John Hilder lived in a row of connected dwellings built of cream colored brick with rust accents. Travis sized up the door, whipped out his lock wiz and they were standing inside in the tiny foyer seconds later.

  “Alarm system?” Fletcher checked the wall behind the door. “Yep.” He studied the panel for a couple of seconds, called on his security smarts and disabled the alarm before it deafened them.

  “Up or down?” asked Travis.

  “I’ll start upstairs and work my way down,” said Fletch. He ran up the flight of stairs in the foyer.

  “If he’s got an office,” Travis hollered up the stairs, “start there.”

  “Yep, I’m already there.”

  3:00 p.m.

  BLAINE kissed Annie goodbye and left for the address Lil had listed in John Hilder’s file as his next of kin. He had a brother named Jeremy who lived in Oak Hills. Not too far south.

  3:02 p.m.

  ANNIE LEFT the Agency compound wondering if she should cover Blaine with the gang thing going on, then she saw Rick follow her through the gate in the junk truck and knew he was covering her son.

  She drove back to the clubhouse hoping the window guys were gone and she could get in and out without too much trouble. They were finishing up as she drove by, loading their tools into their truck and making ready to leave. She drove around the block slowly and when she returned they were gone.

  She parked at the back of the square building and let herself in with her own magic lock tool she’d purchased on Amazon after she’d learned to use the one Travis had. Better if nobody knew she needed one.

  In and out in less than three minutes just like Travis taught her. Adrenaline pumped through her veins and charged her with energy as she jumped into her truck and drove home to make dinner.

  3:30 p.m.

  BLAINE knocked on the door of a split level house in Oak Hills. He’d called ahead and confirmed that Jeremy Hilder would be home when he got there. The door opened, and an older version of John Hilder stood in front of him. Older, longer hair and a few pounds heavier, John’s brother hadn’t been to the gym in a long while. Blaine held up his credentials and Jeremy Hilder motioned for him to come into the foyer.

  He pointed to the living room left of the foyer. “Can I make you a coffee, Ranger Blackmore?”

  “No, thanks. I’m fine.” He sat on the sofa and Jeremy Hilder leaned on the mantle of the brick fireplace.

  “I know this isn’t good news. They never send the top dog with good news. What happened to Johnny?”

  “His body was found this morning on a golf course. He’d been murdered.”

  “What?” Jeremy flopped down into the closest chair and clutched his chest. His breathing seemed to be rapid and Blaine jumped to his feet.

  “Can I get you a shot of bourbon, sir? You look pale.”

  “Over there.” Jeremy’s voice came out in a whisper.

  Blaine turned around and saw a bar set up on an old fashioned tea wagon. A beautiful piece that Annie would love. He poured three fingers into a crystal glass, crossed the room and held it out to Jeremy Hilder.

  Jeremy drank it down and breathed easier a few moments later. “Can you tell me what happened?”

  “No idea yet, sir. But as soon as we have something I won’t keep it from you.”

  “Where… where is my brother?”

  “He’s at our morgue.” Blaine handed Jeremy a card. “There will be an autopsy, but perhaps not until Monday. If you wish to formally identify the body, I can arrange that.”

  “I’m sure you identified him correctly, Ranger Blackmore. You know John. He worked for you for a short time, and he was beyond happy when you hired him. He said it was the best job in Texas and perfect for him. I couldn’t understand how a dependable guy like him could get himself fired so quickly. When I asked him about it, he wouldn’t share the details with me.”

  “I’ll share this one confidence with you, sir, if you keep it strictly to yourself.”

  “I’m not given to gossip, Ranger Blackmore. It just didn’t make sense to me. Johnny was the poster boy for discipline, an army ranger, and I thought he’d be a great addition to y’all’s team.”

  “I thought so too,” said Blaine. “And his exemplary military record had a lot to do with me hiring him. I need men who can follow an order without question and get the job done.”

  “Exactly. And I’d been to the range a few times with Johnny just for recreation. He was a keen shooter.”

  Blaine nodded. “All notable assets and I was sorry to see him go, but I had no choice. I fired John because he stepped over a line. We work closely with Governor Campbell fighting crime all over Texas and John crossed a line that cannot be crossed.”

  Jeremy raised an eyebrow. “I’m hearing you, Ranger Blackmore, and I find that scenario almost impossible to fathom. John was such a shy, withdrawn guy. I can’t picture him getting involved with a lady in that position. I can’t picture it happening.”

  Blaine shrugged. “It happened, and I’ve just come from her residence. I’m sorry for your loss.” He stood up. “If there’s any information you need, call my cell.”

  Jeremy shook his hand and saw him out.

  4:00 p.m.

  Sonora. Texas.

  FARRELL packed the clothes he’d been wearing for the last few days into the Walmart bag they came in, tossed in the toiletries he’d bought to survive, and he was ready to leave. Luke had even less to gather up.

  They checked out of the hotel and as Farrell hopped into his truck for the drive home a huge surge of guilt washed over him. “I feel like I’m abandoning her, Luke. Throwing her to the wolves or some damned thing.”

  “Nothing we can do until we get a sighting. We can’t drive to every camping spot in Texas ourselves. It’s fuckin impossible.”

  “But that’s what I feel I should be doing,” said Farrell.

  “Maybe the boss will have some insight when we get home.”

  “I sure hope so. We spent all that time running him down and the fucker is still loose.”

  “One out of three,” said Luke. “According to both statements, the father was the number one creep and was calling the shots.”

  “I’m glad I put one in his head,” said Farrell. “Real glad.”

  6:00 p.m.

  Austin.

  AT SIX, Travis and Fletcher returned from Hilder’s condo to the Agency with a box of what they deemed important.

  “Bring the box into the dining room and let’s see what y’all came up with,” said Blaine.

  “His office was as bare as the rest of the house,” said Fletcher. “He only had this one file set up. One client. One file.”

  Blaine opened the folder and there was an eight by ten color photo of a teenage kid. The label on the folder read ‘Robert Santos & Robert Santos Junior.’

  “Okay, tomorrow, I’ll talk to Robert Santos Senior, and Monday morning, you guys can go hard on Hilder’
s murder.”

  “You giving us Sunday off, boss?” asked Fletcher.

  Blaine winked at him. “Let’s say y’all are ‘on call.”

  “Long as I’m not totally off,” said Fletch with a wide grin, “I can deal.”

  7:30

  JESSE arrived after dinner. Misty was enjoying a second cup of Earl Grey tea and Blaine was filling his mug with coffee for the third time.

  “Glad you could make it,” said Blaine as he greeted Jesse in the foyer. Farrell will be home any minute and we badly need a sit down meeting to get organized.”

  “I agree,” said Jesse. “A lot happened out in Sonora that I need to catch up on, plus the Hilder thing. At least the gangs are quiet for the moment.”

  Blaine held up crossed fingers.

  Farrell arrived home a few minutes later and came in alone. Luke had picked up his truck and gone to the ranch. Farrell hugged Carm and shook Jesse’s hand before getting himself a beer. “Is this my welcoming committee?”

  “We missed you,” said Blaine, “and I know you’ve been going through some stuff. Misty was concerned about you.” He pointed at the table. “Have you had dinner?”

  “Nope, I drove straight through and I could use something if there are any leftovers.”

  Carm nodded and fixed him a plate. While he waited, Farrell launched into the story about the missing mobile home.

  “Don’t they remove the wheels once the units are set up in a permanent spot?” asked Jesse. “I think they did with mine, but I can’t be sure.”

  “No clue, boss,” Farrell sounded beat. “Drove up to the Bluebonnet Trailer Park and I couldn’t believe it when the fuckin thing was gonners.”

  “You’ve got all the alerts in place?” asked Jesse. “I’m sure you have, or Luke would. One thing I’ve noticed about that young man is his thoroughness. He must have been a damn good cop in Baton Rouge.”

  “Luke is good,” said Farrell. “He doesn’t look smart, but he is sharp… and calm—the guy has veins of ice water.”

  Blaine smiled. Farrell could have been describing himself.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Sunday, May 10th.

  C-4 Clubhouse. Austin.

  TRAVIS picked Annie up at midnight and drove her to Austin to the clubhouse. The Aryan boys had brand new glass in their windows and they were back in business. Tonight, they’d be voting on who was going to move up and call the shots and it looked like a pretty good turnout. Two long row of bikes and three or four SUV’s. Thirty or forty of them all packed into that little brick building.

  They’d lost seven of their top bald-headed bullies and should be floundering for a good long while. After tonight they might be floundering permanently. Someone was hoping for that.

  Annie climbed a tree across the street and down the block a way—what Travis estimated was a safe distance. She tightened her scope, checked the yardage and drew a bead on the front door of the club. Travis spoke into the earwig and startled her. Would she ever get used to that thing?

  “All set?”

  “Yep, I’m ready. Go for it.”

  Travis pushed the button on his phone and the clubhouse blew up with a deafening blast. Bricks and pieces of concrete flew high into the air, then rained down like giant chunks of hail.

  Annie watched the big light show from the safety of her tree hoping she wouldn’t get clocked by any of the flying debris. She waited, peering through her scope, thinking survivors would come running out the door so she could finish them off. No one did.

  Travis ran to her location and stood under the tree. “Come down, girl. I’ll catch you. I think we’re finished here.”

  “Should we wait a little longer to be sure?” she asked.

  “No,” said Travis, “the fire department will be here any minute and we have to leave. If there are any survivors, we’ll get them later.”

  Annie handed down her rifle first, then slid down into Travis’ outstretched arms.

  “Did you leave the marker this afternoon?” he asked.

  “Uh huh.”

  Travis drove her back home to the ranch and she sent a text.

  “All done.”

  “That’s my girl. Did you leave the marker?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The Blackmore Agency. Austin.

  BLAINE heard the ringing in his sleep and thought it was a dream. A horrible dream. Another disaster in the middle of the fuckin night. He groped the nightstand and felt his cell. The screen light nearly blinded him when he turned the phone over to face him.

  Shit, I’m tired.

  “Yeah, Chief. Who did what?”

  “Somebody blew up C-4’s clubhouse. Big meeting going on inside and they’re all dead.”

  “How many?”

  “No way to tell yet.”

  “Okay, I’m up.”

  Blaine opened Farrell’s door, happy that his brother was home. “Hey, bro. Somebody just blew up Frobisher’s gang.”

  Farrell sounded groggy. “How many?”

  “Multiple.”

  Farrell threw back the duvet and sat on the side of the bed. “I’m a mess, bro. Hope I can keep it together.”

  “Did you sleep?” asked Blaine.

  “The past hour, I guess.”

  “I can run the scene alone if you want to sleep. We’ve got a full day.”

  “Nope. I’m coming.”

  FARRELL’S TRUCK was parked behind Blaine’s in the double driveway, so they took the red Silverado. Farrell drove south to the clubhouse keeping his eyes open for a Starbucks or Dunkin’ Donuts, or anybody who was wider awake than they were and able to brew coffee.

  “There.” Blaine pointed. “Next block, I see one.”

  “Thank you, baby Jesus. I’m so fuckin tired I could sleep standing up.”

  “Get a half dozen donuts.” Blaine handed him a twenty across the console. “We might be there a while.”

  With two walnut crullers sitting in his gut like sugar-coated lead grenades and fortified with hot coffee, Farrell turned down the street where the Aryan’s clubhouse used to be and stopped. “Goddam fucking media,” he hollered, “we can’t even get to the fuckin scene.”

  “Turn on the siren,” said Blaine, “and if they don’t move, crash into the motherfuckers.”

  “I’d love to bash the hell out of them, but I might damage my grill. I’d do it in a minute if we had your truck with the push bar on it.” Farrell inched along as a couple of reporters ran back and moved their vans. “Another block to go.”

  “Close enough,” said Blaine, “Look at all the fire trucks. Must have been a goddam inferno.”

  “Who are you betting on?” asked Farrell.

  “Thirteen’s. Carlos called it. He won the last pool.”

  “When’s he coming back to work?” Farrell locked the truck and they started walking.

  “Tomorrow.”

  “He’s too good to lose,” said Farrell and Blaine nodded.

  Media swarmed around them shouting out questions and blinding them with lights as they walked down the block.

  Blaine held his arm up over his eyes and hollered, “Turn off that shit or I’ll have every one of you jailed for obstruction. And get your goddam trucks off this block. I’m warning all of you.”

  The reporter with the mic smiled at the camera and said, “You heard it here, folks, Ranger Blackmore is a little testy today on his way to the bombing.”

  Before Blaine could react, Farrell grabbed the mic out of the guy’s hand and fired it across the road into the bushes. He gave the reporter a healthy shove and landed him on his ass. “Pack up all of you and back off. Don’t fuck with me.”

  Blaine kept walking, but he couldn’t hide the smile on his face.

  The scene was cordoned off, but the fire fighters had it under control. Still too hot to approach. Just a stinking, smoldering pile of rubble.

  The Fire Marshall came towards Blaine with something in his gloved hand. “One of the boys found this, Ranger B. Might help y’all
out.”

  “Sure will, thanks Franko.”

  Farrell pulled an evidence bag out of his back pocket and bagged it.

  BOTH BLAINE and Farrell were dragging their assess at breakfast. They’d managed to get another couple of hours of sleep before it was time to get up again, but it wasn’t enough.

  Carm was busy at the stove whipping up Farrell’s favorite breakfast tacos when she called out something in Spanish. She was pointing to the little TV on the counter as she watched the morning news.

  Blaine strode over to see and sure enough one of the local stations was running the film of Farrell giving the reporter a push. They ran it about four times in a row and the asshole fell on his butt every time.

  “Shit,” said Blaine,” I’m probably gonna get sued.”

  Carm giggled and pointed at Farrell. “Bandito.”

  “He sure is.”

  Declan brought Misty downstairs as Farrell was finishing his third taco. She sat next to Farrell and wrote on her little notepad.

  “Do you have anything of hers?”

  Farrell read the note. “I don’t think so, but I’ll check the truck.” Farrell tore outside to look at the same moment Blaine’s cell rang.

  “Morning, Governor. Are you feeling better this morning?”

  “A little, thanks to you, sweetie. I was wondering about your meeting with John’s brother. Did he say anything about a service?”

  “No, but he seemed nice. You could call him.”

  “Does he know about me?”

  “In a discreet way.”

  “Would you mind terribly telling him that I’m going to call. Lots of times I call, and people ask me if it’s a joke.”

  “Hey, they say the same thing to me,” said Blaine. “Yep, I’ll call him right now and then you’ll be clear for later.”

  “Thanks. And on another subject, am I saying anything about the overnight bombing?”

  “Let me think about that. I’m calling Mary and maybe we’ll work something out together.”