by Carolina Mac
“And what are you gonna do, boss?”
“I knew you were gonna ask me that, Farrell. “I’m going to my own room to do research. We need a read on what asshole is trying to scare our candidate into backing down.”
“Amen,” said Farrell and Travis punched him so hard he fell off his bar stool.
Ginny laughed for the first time all day.
BLAINE SPENT the next two hours searching the top three hopefuls running against Doctor Virginia Rodriguez.
According to the most recent polls, Russell Parr was her closest competitor. Born in Odessa but now residing in Austin, he was a successful businessman and investment broker. His wife of twenty-seven years was an attorney, and they had two kids in U of Texas.
Not far behind in the race was Foster J. Farndon. Oil millionaire from way back when. Widower, three kids and seven grandchildren. He was the oldest candidate. Lived in an affluent area of Dallas.
Lastly, Luis Jimenez, real estate developer. Owned several hotels and a huge chunk of downtown Houston. Married with four kids, the youngest boy in university and the others well placed in one of Dad’s several corporations.
On the surface, nothing stuck out. No red flags.
He dug deeper.
Concentrating completely on his research, Blaine didn’t realize his cell was ringing. He grabbed it on the fourth ring and glanced at the screen. Misty.
I should have called her.
“Hey, sweetheart. Sorry I didn’t call this morning. Something came up.”
“I know what came up, and don’t try to make it sound like nothing. It’s on the news.”
“Oh, shit, is it?”
“Dead guy in the parking lot at your hotel?” Misty sounded a little hysterical. “That means either you or Farrell were in a life-threatening situation and one of you shot him.”
She has a good read on us.
“He was a threat to Doctor Rodriguez.”
“Uh huh. It makes my heart pound when y’all are on the news. One of the disadvantages of having a cop boyfriend.”
“Yeah, I guess it is.”
“When are you coming home?”
“I’ve only been gone two days. Let me check the route map later and I’ll call you later.”
“Mary went with y’all and I wanted to come too. It would have been fun.”
Fuck fun. You can’t come with me when I’m working.
After doing his best to placate Misty he was annoyed and off track. “I might as well check on Jesse.” He called Annie and asked his question.
“He might be stable enough to go into his own room tomorrow. Ty and I are hoping for that, then we can take the baby to visit him. That’s what Jesse wants in the worst way.”
“He must be missing her.”
“It’s worse than missing her. When he can’t see her—like physically see her—he stresses and that makes his heart rate and other things go wonky.”
“Shit, Brian must be worried.”
“Brian has been brutal, but that’s a whole nuther story.”
“I get you, Mom, and don’t let Brian bully you. He can be a dick if people aren’t obeying his orders.”
“You got that right.”
With the phone calls out of the way, he dove back into his research and came up with two possibilities. Two vetted workers on Ginny’s staff had criminal records under aliases, and one of them—a woman named Amelia Armstrong—was a first cousin to Russell Parr. Coincidence?
I don’t believe in coincidences.
Did Mr. Parr have a mole in the Rodriguez organization?
THE LAREDO CONVENTION CENTRE was surrounded by media vans when Travis arrived with the crew.
“Jesus in a handcart,” said Farrell, “They’ve all moved over here to pounce on her when she comes for the dinner.”
“We’ll need uniforms to get her to the door safely,” said Jack. “I’ll let the boss know.”
Inside everything appeared to be in order. Tables were set and the stage was decorated with a huge Lone Star Flag as the backdrop. The Rodriguez staff members buzzed around like bees checking the lighting, the mics and dozens of other last minute details.
Gene’s men along with the building’s own security staff had checked out the kitchen workers and the extra servers hired for the event.
Travis was circling the huge dining room with a wand in his hand when his cell rang. Blacky.
“Sort out a campaign worker named Amelia Armstrong and escort her to the front door. I’m sending Lily to pick her up.”
“She the one?”
“She’s related to Parr, one of the other candidates, and she has a jacket.”
“Could be passing information or worse. Good digging, boss.”
Travis strode over to a knot of workers near the stage and inquired. “Is Amelia Armstrong around?”
A couple of the women glanced around, and one said, “I haven’t seen her today.”
“Okay, thanks.” He headed for the entrance and met Lily on her way in. “Can’t find her. They don’t think she showed up today.”
“I’ll talk to Willa and see what she knows,” said Lily. “If Amelia is involved, she might have run after this morning.”
“Wish I knew what she looked like,” said Travis. “Don’t know these people yet, but if she is gone, we can issue a warrant for her as a person of interest in this morning’s attempt. She needs to answer some questions.”
“Willa may know where she went.” Lily glanced around at all the activity. “Does the room seem safe?”
“Yep, and Gene has done a thorough job checking out every person who works for the convention center. As long as Ginny isn’t too shook up from this morning, we should be okay.”
“Don’t know if I would be as calm as she is,” said Lily.
THE BLACKMORE CREW dressed in formal wear they hated, tried to blend in with weapons tucked uncomfortably beneath snug jackets and endure their second fundraising dinner in a row. The guests out-dazzled each other, dressed to impress but impressing who?
The food was not quite as tasty as the night before—the rubbery quality of the chicken a little off-putting. More broccoli. Was the green stuff the political veggie of choice? Farrell did his part to finish off any unwanted desserts and the girls expressed gratitude.
After dinner, Doctor Rodriguez stood center stage, dazzlingly beautiful in a stunning long, emerald gown that glowed against her copper skin. She delivered her speech without hesitation, and without a hint of nervousness. No tell-tale signs of what had happened earlier in the day.
At the end of the evening with commitments fulfilled, sleep was the option of choice.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
JESSE SMILED at Charity as Tyler sat her on the side of the bed in his private room. An orderly and his private nurse had moved him shortly after breakfast and after Brian had delivered the good news. Now that Jesse had his own space and wouldn’t be disturbing other patients, Ty could bring the baby to see him every day.
“Hey, baby girl, are you missing Daddy?”
Charity reached out and shoved her stuffed elephant in Jesse’s face. She wriggled in an attempt to get off the bed and Tyler held tighter.
“I’ll take that as a ‘yes.” Jesse smiled at his child.
Annie stood behind Tyler saying nothing. Happy in the fact that Jesse had recovered sufficiently to move from the cardiac unit into a normal room. A good sign and one she was thankful for.
“Heard from Blacky?” Jesse asked her.
“Uh huh. They’re in Laredo. Should be back soon.” Brian had warned her not to stress Jesse with any details of work or anything else he could brood about, and she was doing her best to comply—even though what Brian wanted didn’t cut much ice with her—she would do anything she could to protect Jesse. He was her husband.
A piece of paper doesn’t change anything. Jesse is my husband and my responsibility.
Jesse eyed his daughter as Tyler lifted her off the bed and sat in the chair with her on his
knee. “Is that a new outfit? I don’t remember buying it.”
“Annie bought it for her,” said Ty. “We went shopping for diapers and milk and stuff and bought a few extras.”
Jesse smiled. “It’s easy to buy extras in the baby department.”
Brian strode through the door and went straight to the monitor. He checked the readings, turned his head and smiled at Jesse. “Like your new room?”
“Love it. My daughter can come visit me.”
He patted Tyler on the shoulder, deliberately ignored Annie and left.
BLAINE ARRANGED a breakfast meeting in the candidate’s suite. Present were the Blackmore crew, Gene Wyman—Ginny’s security chief—and Willa Freeman—campaign manager.
After eggs, waffles and bacon had been consumed with gusto, and the dishes cleared, Blaine refilled his coffee cup and started. “Following the events of yesterday, I dug deeper into staff backgrounds and came up with a connection some of us have already discussed. Miss Amelia Armstrong, one of the campaign supporters and volunteer workers from the get-go is a cousin of Mr. Russell Parr. She has a criminal record that should have come to light when she was vetted, but for some reason it didn’t.”
A moment of awkward silence ensued waiting for Willa to offer an explanation, but none was forthcoming.
“What was she arrested for?” asked Ginny.
“Writing bad checks and embezzlement. She stole money from her employer.”
Ginny nodded and said nothing more.
“If it was a long time ago,” said Willa, “she could have put that behind her and tried to do better.”
Did she know about the girl’s police record?
“Possibly,” said Blaine, “but it shows she could prove to be untrustworthy. She was dishonest more than once in the past and she was arrested. That and the fact that she’s related to Russell Parr makes me wonder why she’s working in this campaign and not busting her butt for her cousin?”
Farrell buttered the last biscuit and didn’t look up as he reached for the jam. “She a mole, boss?”
Blaine shrugged. “When I asked Travis to find her at the convention center yesterday, she was already gone. Lily did some checking, and found out Ms. Armstrong checked out of the hotel without a word to Miss Freeman minutes before the diversion package was delivered by Fed-Ex.”
“I didn’t know she was leaving,” said Willa.
Blaine took a long hard look at the campaign manager. He could usually tell if someone was lying.
“Looks like she wanted to be clear before the police arrived,” said Travis, “but we have no proof she did anything.”
“But there’s nothing stopping us from taking a closer look at Mr. Parr’s campaign, is there, Jack?”
“No, boss. Nothing at all.”
“Okay then, let’s pack up, check out and head for our next stop. Today, try to be aware of anything unusual and pay special attention to people you don’t recognize.”
Ginny got to her feet. “Before we move on, I want to thank everybody for putting their lives on the line and keeping me safe yesterday. Seeing what could happen, and how it was professionally handled by Blaine and his men, actually quelled some of my fear.”
Blaine nodded and reached for his crutch. “No problem. Let’s go. Next stop, Sonora.”
AFTER A STOP for lunch at a barbeque spot just off the highway, the entourage arrived in Sonora just before three. Doctor Rodriguez and her staff checked into the Best Western, while Travis drove Blaine’s Ram and followed Farrell into the parking lot behind the hotel.
“After we have a beer,” said Blaine, “we’ll check out the golf course and see what we’re dealing with there.”
Farrell held the door of the RV open for Blaine, Travis, Lily and Jack. “Don’t let any hot air in. It’s cool in here.”
“Must be a hundred in the fuckin shade,” said Travis. “Whose idea was it to haul ass all over Texas in the heat?”
“Not mine,” said Blaine. He sat down at the table and leaned the crutch against the door. “Farrell, you’re the host. Get us a few cold ones.”
“Ladies first,” said Farrell, nodding at Lily and Mary.
“I’ll have a Coke,” said Mary.
“Same for me,” said Lily. “I’m not a day drinker.”
Blaine chuckled. “I became a day drinker when I became Jesse’s partner. He converted me.”
“Me too,” Travis said with a grin. “Some of my best memories are thinking and drinking in Jesse’s trailer.”
“Sonora ain’t a big place,” said Farrell. “Why are we stopping here?”
“Halfway to our next stop, I guess,” said Blaine. “Makes no sense logistically. Whoever planned the route was on crack.”
“That would be Willa,” said Farrell. “I think that old bag of misery used to be a drill sergeant.”
Mary smiled at Farrell, then turned to Blaine. “Would you look over my story from yesterday and give it a quick edit, when you get time? I don’t want to send anything to the paper that shouldn’t be made public.”
“Sure, I’ll do it before we go to the venue.” Blaine tipped up his beer and finished it. “Farrell, I think we have time for another round.” To Lily: “Where is Russell Parr and his group today?”
“He’s in Abilene, boss.”
Blaine glanced in Jack’s direction and he nodded. “Greg is on him, boss.”
“Good. Maybe we’ll get some intel.”
ANNIE DROPPED her purse on the granite counter in the kitchen and opened the Sub-Zero to grab a beer. Staying for hours on end at the hospital with Jesse was exhausting, but something she owed him and ultimately owed herself if they were to have a future together.
I’m not giving up on Jesse. I’ve ruined his life, and I have to fix it.
She hadn’t broached the subject of moving into Quantrall during his recovery period, but she was working up to it. With the first sip of Lone Star sliding down her parched throat, she dug her ringing cell out of her purse and checked the screen. Uh huh.
“Yes, sir. What can I help you with?”
“A pro has been hired. You’re up.”
“Details?”
“Gray pickup. Arkansas tag.” A few more words of instruction, and before she could ask for a name or a location, he ended the call.
How the hell will I find him?
“Shit.” Annie ran to her room and changed into her leathers. She rolled up a change of clothes and made the roll small enough to fit into her saddle bag. A quick trip to the ensuite for essential toiletries and she was almost ready.
She hoofed it to the kitchen. “Rosie, have Sarah sleep over with Jackson until I get back, would you, sweetheart?”
Rosalie glanced up from the pies she was making. “How long will you be gone, Mrs. C?”
“I’m hoping, just overnight. Back tomorrow.”
“Okay, sure. No problem.”
In the great room, Annie selected her Remington, broke it down and collected the Armasight, and what she thought would be more than enough ammo.
I only need one shot.
She packed the ordnance into a leather travel case and headed for the garage. She raised the overhead door closest to the house—one of six—since she had expanded the garage to accommodate the bikes of all the boys living in the safe-house on the property.
The engine of her Softail rumbled to life and she let the big bike throb beneath her as she slipped on her helmet and her leather gloves. Adrenaline began pumping through her veins as it always did when she was on a job.
Let’s do it.
Annie hit the highway at the end of her long lane and squeezed the gas. Sonora was more than three hours away. Could she get there before dark to have a look around?”
Sure, I can.
THE VENUE FOR Doctor Rodriguez’ speech was much smaller than the last two. The Oak Run Golf Club, a couple miles out of the town of Sonora, was adequate for weddings or smaller gatherings, but only seated two hundred in the dining room. All tickets h
ad been sold. A sellout.
The fact that only a single road led from the highway to the Oak Run property worked in their favor. Each vehicle could be scrutinized before entering the parking lot.
Travis dogged Gene the Machine as he did his thing and couldn’t fault the man in any way. He might not like him, but Gene Wyman and his men were thorough and good at their jobs.
Willa Freeman and her team readied the stage and decorated the room, at the same time the golf course staff buzzed around setting the tables and placing vases of fresh cut bluebonnets in the center of each.
Travis nodded and felt confident that everything had been done that could be done. No threats of any kind here.
ANNIE SPED ACROSS THE I-10, cruising along at just over the limit. She’d been on the road an hour and would soon need gas.
Hope I’m back in time for visiting hours tomorrow morning. Jesse counts on me being there and I can’t let him down. Never again.
She pulled off the interstate into a Citgo, jumped off her bike and shoved her credit card into the pump. Two rows over a long-haired biker stared at her as he fueled up his Harley. She looked away, finished up and went inside to use the facilities. When she emerged from the ladies’ room into the back hall of the convenience store he was leaning against the wall.
Better looking than I thought at first glance. Looks a lot like Sam Bolivar. Same dark complexion and brown eyes. Younger.
“Want to use the ladies’ room?”
“I want to use the lady,” he growled.
She tried to brush past him. “Work on your pick-up line. Sorry, you’re out of luck.”
He grabbed her arm and pulled her towards him. “I don’t think so.”
With her left hand, Annie pulled her Beretta out of the waistband at the back of her jeans and rammed it into his package. “Take your hands off me or I’ll pull the trigger.”
He raised his hands in the air and laughed. “Okay, okay. You got me. Man, I love the feisty ones. What a fuckin turn on.”