by Carolina Mac
“Okay, I can do that.”
“Another reason you might have infection.” The doc pointed and finger. “Not enough rest. You have to give your body time to heal. No work for a week.”
Blaine nodded and tried to figure how that one was possible.
“I’ll write the script and have Lena come in and give you a fresh bandage.”
Ranger Headquarters. Austin.
FARRELL drew the short straw and got to question Damien Longbow, the more aggressive and belligerent of the two brothers. They looked alike, but Damien was younger by a couple of years, shorter, a stockier build, and had more than his share of attitude.
Starting off polite and intending to keep his cool, Farrell asked, “Would you like a coffee before we start?”
“Fuck coffee,” Damien leaned forward over the metal table, “and fuck you too, Ranger Dickwad. I want out of here. I ain’t done nothing and you can’t hold me in y’all’s cowboy tank.”
Farrell smiled and pushed back in his chair. “That’s where you went a bit astray in your thinking, bud. You helped a murderer escape and you and your bro are going to jail for that.”
“No, I ain’t.” He jerked against the cuffs that were attached to the metal table. “That was all Mike’s doing. I didn’t say they could come to the river. That’s my private residence and I don’t let anybody come there. Nobody. They just fuckin showed up on Mike’s bike. Uninvited. Nothing to do with me. I was pissed when they came through the door and I told them they couldn’t stay there. No room and I like my privacy. Know what I mean?”
“Sure,” said Farrell. Damien’s story had a ring of truth to it, and Farrell could hear the anger in his voice. “Help me out, Damien, and clarify one point for me. If you were pissed at your brother for bringing Lovell to your place, why did you give him your boat?”
Damien tried to jump off his chair and the cuffs held him back with a clank—metal on metal. He winced as the cuff cut through the skin on his right wrist and a trickle of blood appeared. He sucked in a breath and settled on his chair. “I didn’t give him my goddam boat. That asshole Lovell fuckin stole it. Know how much that boat cost me? I’m gonna kill that prick myself if I don’t get my boat back in perfect condition.” Damien lowered his voice. “I’ll save the state some time and money.”
“Yep,” Farrell nodded his head and prodded Damien along. “Don’t blame you for that. Didn’t even ask if he could use it?”
“Hell no? I heard the knocking on the door when you guys came, and Lovell booked it out through the back. Then I hear my fuckin Merc start up and I say to myself, don’t’ do it. Thought I was gonna shit myself right there on the spot.”
Misty’s Bungalow. Austin.
ANNIE parked in Misty’s driveway behind the blue car she rarely drove. “Want me to wait out here?” she asked Blaine.
“I won’t be more than five minutes, Mom, but I have to say something to her. I can’t leave things hanging the way they are.”
“Take your time, sugar. I’ve got calls to make.”
Blaine knocked on the side door and Hoodoo barked and whined inside. He tried the knob and it was unlocked. “Misty, it’s me. Can we talk for a minute?”
She stood in the hallway at the top of the three steps leading up to the main level dressed in shorts and a paint-streaked t-shirt, a paint roller in her hand. “I don’t think there’s anything left to say.”
Blaine stomped up the steps and stood close enough to smell her shampoo. “There’s plenty left to say.” He waved his good arm towards the disaster in the front room. “I had Lily and Rick working on fixing that mess for you.”
“I don’t need help, Blaine. I’m fine on my own.”
“You needed my help in the past,” he shouted, “time after time, or have you forgotten about that?”
“Brad’s dead now. I don’t need protection.”
“You realize the baby idea took me by surprise,” said Blaine, “We just got back together and we’re not solid enough for a step that big.”
“I thought we were.”
“We’re not.”
“Okeydokey.” She gave him a little wave and walked down the hall.
Blaine shook his head. “Okay, if that’s the way you want it.” He left and closed the door behind him.
“How did it go?” asked Annie as he slid into the passenger seat of her truck.
“Didn’t. She doesn’t want to talk. Says she’s fine on her own.”
“That might be true now that her crazy husband is dead.”
“Yeah, might be.”
Blackmore Agency. Austin.
ANNIE dropped Blaine off and headed downtown to pick Jesse up from DPS. Blaine poured himself a coffee in the kitchen and trudged into his office with his new prescription. He felt like dead meat and hoped the new pills would work a miracle.
First things first. He dove into Lovell’s family a bit deeper to see if he could come up with a sister. Travis hadn’t been able to spit out too many details, but it had been important enough for him to mention the minute he woke up.
After twenty minutes, Blaine found the connection he was sure Travis was referring to. He picked up his cell and called Farrell.
“Hey, bro, done the interrogations?”
“Yeah, we’re finished. Just having a smoke with Jesse before Mom comes to get him.”
“Good. As soon as she does I want you to go bring Marilyn Zimmer in. Take backup with you.”
“Why? What did she do?”
“She’s Lovell’s half-sister.”
“Shit, no way. He might be at her place.”
“Exactly, or she might know where he is. Don’t go alone.”
“Think she’s at the club or at home?”
“It’s early, try her residence first.”
Marilyn Zimmer’s Residence. East Austin.
FARRELL didn’t call ahead. He thought if Marilyn had given her half-brother a place to stay, he’d be gone by the time he, Jesse and Annie got there.
He’d tried to get a couple of the junkers for backup, but they were all busy on projects the boss had assigned and couldn’t go.
Annie had driven her truck along behind because Zimmer’s place was east of the city and she could take Jesse straight on home to the ranch afterwards.
A white Hyundai Sonata sat in the driveway and the small ranch house looked peaceful enough from the outside. Farrell waited until Annie parked behind his truck and edged her way through the trees around to the back of the property. If Lovell was in there, chances were good he’d make a run for it. That had been his pattern in the past two take-down attempts.
Jesse stepped out of the truck as soon as Annie wasn’t looking and took up a position leaning on the front fender of the Ram with a clear view of Marilyn’s front door. Without using too much physical energy, he could get a shot off from where he stood.
Jesse couldn’t exert himself physically because of his weak heart, and Farrell hoped to hell and back, Jesse wouldn’t do something crazy.
Mom will be furious if Jesse gets hurt.
Farrell didn’t like the setup one bit, but he had to go with it. He rang the bell.
A chunky Marilyn Zimmer answered the door with a big smile on her moon face. Her Willie Nelson t-shirt was stretched tight across her huge chest. “Deputy Donovan, I didn’t expect you.”
“I have a couple more questions for you, Miss Zimmer. Mind if I come in?”
“I do, actually. I have a friend over. Could we do this some other time? Or why don’t you come to the club after six and talk to me in my office?”
He’s in there.
“You didn’t tell me that Benson Lovell was your half-brother, Miss Zimmer. How could you fail to mention something that important?”
“I didn’t see that it was relevant.”
Farrell raised an eyebrow. “Not relevant?”
A noise came from the back of the house and Farrell tried to push his way in the door. Marilyn blocked him with her beach-ball body. �
��I said you couldn’t come in.”
Farrell hollered over Marilyn’s shoulder, “Benson Lovell, come out with your hands on your head. If you don’t surrender, you will be taken down by force.”
“Don’t hurt him.” Marilyn began sniffling. “He didn’t do anything.”
“He killed at least four girls and he shot my partner,” hollered Farrell. “You call that nothing?”
More movement behind Marilyn and then the sound of a door opening and closing.
Then the shot.
Mom. Hope you killed him.
Farrell booked it around the house and found Lovell howling and squirming on the patio. He moaned long and low as he clutched his blood-soaked leg.
Annie’s knee shot.
Farrell called it in as Marilyn Zimmer bulldozed through the patio doors screaming at him. “You didn’t have to shoot him. He didn’t do anything.”
Farrell grabbed Marilyn’s fat wrist and snapped a cuff on her. He twisted both her hands behind her back and clicked the other cuff into place. “Sit on that chair, keep quiet and don’t move.”
Jesse wandered around to the back of the house, traded guns with Annie and sat down at the picnic table. “Good job, y’all. Glad I could be here for it.”
“Give the Chief a call, Jesse,” said Farrell, “he was antsy this morning to get this wrapped.”
Ranger Headquarters. Austin.
FARRELL dropped into Chief Calhoun’s office after booking Marilyn Zimmer. “All done, Chief. Hope the DA is happy.”
“They should be. The murdering asshole never should have made bail. Look at all the trouble it would have saved.”
“Especially for Travis,” said Farrell. “I’m going to see him on my way home.”
“Hang on, son. I’ll go with you.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Wednesday, September 20th.
Blackmore Agency. Austin.
STILL pissed off and depressed about the Misty blowup, Blaine couldn’t sleep in spite of the strong new meds. He was up at dawn brewing coffee and letting Lexi out the back door for her run.
He had settled in his office with his first cup of the day, relieved that the pain in his arm had subsided enough to allow him to type, when his cell rang. “Mr. Moffatt, you’re an early riser.”
“I’m sorry to call so early Ranger Blackmore, but we’ve got a situation here.”
“What kind of situation is that, sir? Did your daughter come home?”
“No, but that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”
“Okay, go ahead.”
“Yesterday, Linda, my wife, slipped on some pudding that one of the girls had thrown onto the kitchen floor and she hurt her back quite seriously. She has to stay in bed for the next week, and I cannot manage the three girls by myself.”
“How can I help you?”
“I want Renee to come home. She sent me an email and she called once, but she didn’t tell me where she was or how to get in touch with her. I find that odd, because we’ve always been a close family.”
“Do you get the feeling she doesn’t want you to know where she is?”
“Something like that, although, I can’t imagine why.”
I can.
“Do you have a relative or a friend that could help you for the next few days?”
“My wife’s sister is coming for the weekend, but she can’t come until Saturday morning. If I filed a missing person’s report would the police try to find Renee?”
“I’ll be honest, Mr. Moffatt, your daughter is the number one suspect in a suspicious death investigation, and I’m trying to find her anyway. The problem for you and your wife is, when I do find her, she may not be coming home to take care of her children.”
Moffatt let out a big sigh. “This is such a mess. No matter how I try to get my head around it, I can’t imagine my daughter killing Max or anyone for that matter.”
“We all have a breaking point, sir. We can’t rule it out.”
“But you would have to prove in court that she killed Max, wouldn’t you?”
“Absolutely.”
“I guess, running away paints her in a bad light.”
“It does,” said Blaine, “but it doesn’t prove anything.”
“She might have gone away because she was upset about the divorce talk,” said Moffatt.
“That could be true, also.”
I think Renee made up the divorce thing to cover her ass with her parents.
“Well, as long as y’all are looking, I hope you find her soon. I’m concerned for my wife.”
“Have you thought of getting help from an agency?”
“I thought of it but ruled it out because of the cost.”
“Costly or not, a nanny may be worth her weight until your wife is better.”
“I’ll call for some prices this morning. Thank you, Ranger Blackmore. I feel better after talking to you.”
“Call me anytime, and I’ll try to keep you updated.”
“Appreciate it.”
Blaine ended the call and began sifting through information he had sent to his own computer from Larry Appleton’s desk top.
The Internet Café Renee had used to send the emails had a website with contact information—all in Spanish, but Blaine had become almost proficient. Almost.
He jotted down the street address in San Carlos and made a decision. There was no other choice. He had to go to Panama.
Coulter-Ross Ranch. La Grange.
JESSE rose early, had a coffee with Annie and a brief discussion about driving on his own to Quantrall, but she gave in with a smile and told him to go for it.
With the windows down and the CD player blasting out George Strait, Jesse drove north on route seventy-seven, north past Giddings to his own ranch to check on his horses.
Tyler and Paul had been holding things together while he recovered from his latest heart attack, but he was better now and felt stronger every day. He had to pitch in and do his fair share.
As he drove down the long lane, lined with cottonwood and pecan trees he realized how much he had missed his own ranch. Would Annie ever move here to be with him on his turf?
His house looked the same from the outside, big Spanish monster with black shutters on the upstairs windows—he didn’t like the black and had intended to have them repainted—and a huge wrap-around porch. He hadn’t been inside for a few weeks and it felt like years.
He parked at the barn and pulled the door open and a sensation filled him, mind, body and soul. His barn. His horses. Home. No place on earth he’d rather be.
ANNIE had just said goodbye to Jesse, worrying that he’d be safe driving on his own, when Blaine called on her cell. “Hey, sweetheart, what’s up? Did you smooth things over with Misty?”
“I thought we were on the same page, Mom, but the baby thing cut me off at the knees. I’m on overload right now and I don’t think I’m going to make another effort in that direction. Feels too much like work.”
“You know best. What about Olivia?”
“Don’t have time right now for anything new. Maybe when we get back.”
“Where are you going?”
“Not me, Mom, we. I need you to go with me and Farrell for a couple of days. I have to go to Panama.”
“Panama? Haven’t been there in a while.”
“There’s a murder suspect that I need to track down, have her placed in custody down there and get extradition started.”
“And you need me for?”
“Moral support. You know the country, the airport, the lay of the land.”
“Sure, I can get away for a couple of days. Jesse might like to come too.”
“Of course, he can come if he feels up to it.”
“He drove for the first time today since his last coronary. He’s gone to Quantrall to catch up with the boys.”
“Check with Jesse, then book tickets for all of us for tomorrow if you can get them that quick.”
“Will we need hotels?”
“Got it. I’ll get back to you.”
“Thanks, Mom. Love you.”
Blackmore Agency. Austin.
HE swallowed his twelve o’clock pills with the roast beef sandwich Carm made him for lunch. She was keeping a close watch on his arm now and on his medication schedule. Blaine called to her as she unloaded the dishwasher on the other side of the kitchen. “Want to go to Panama for a few days?”
She walked towards him with a handful of clean cutlery in her hand and said in rapid Spanish, “I can’t. Some of my seeds are starting to come up and I can’t leave.”
Blaine smiled at her. “Jack could watch the garden for you and water it.”
“No.” A flat no. She’d been waiting for her garden for too long and she wasn’t leaving it in the infant stage. Blaine could read her.
He smiled and said, “Comprender.”
Farrell appeared at the kitchen door, his hair still damp from his shower and poured himself a coffee. “What are we doing today? I finished my reports on the Lovell arrest and shipped them to the Chief.”
“We’re getting ready to go to Panama to look for Renee Endicott. You can drive me to Powell and Associates to get the lowdown on extradition.”
“Sounds like boring legal shit.” Farrell sat down and yawned.
“It will be. You can just drop me off if you want to and go get a warrant from the Chief. We’ll need the Panama police to place Renee in custody until she’s extradited.”
“Good enough,” said Farrell, “I can do that.”
“Then we’ll see Trav and tell him we’ll be gone a couple days.”
Farrell shook his head.
“No?”
“I want to go to the hospital first.”
Blaine raised an eyebrow. “You worried about something?”
“Had a bad feeling when I woke up.”
Blaine drained his cup and stood up. “Let’s go.”