Vigilance

by Carolina Mac

  Kristin dropped to the floor, unzipped his blood-soaked jeans and tugged them off. She made a face when she saw the bullet hole and how much blood was gushing out. “I’m gonna press down hard on your leg, see if I can get it stopped.”

  Ewing closed his eyes and laid his head on the hard floor. “Do whatever, sweetheart.”

  MARY POLITO found Blaine and Misty in the waiting area outside the ICU. “I can’t believe this happened, Blaine.”

  “Sit down, Mary, we have to write up something I can say to the media in the next ten minutes. They’ll find out like they aways do, and there will be swarms of them outside the hospital.”

  “I’ll go get coffee,” said Misty. “It might help you think better, Beb.”

  Blaine smiled at her. Thoughtful and sweet and he loved her so much. “Thanks, Mist, bring food too, if you see any.”

  Misty left, and Travis came in with Mrs. Leighton. She’d been ill, and lost weight since Blaine had seen her last. He introduced her to Mary and she managed a smile.

  “The nurse at the desk told me Perry is out of surgery and he’ll soon be in the unit,” said Mrs. Leighton. “When he gets there, I’ll be able to sit with him.”

  “The nurse say anything about Cat?” Blaine asked Travis.

  Travis nodded. “She’ll be a while longer.”

  Blaine was on his feet. “I’m going out for a smoke.”

  LOU THOMPSON spent every moment since he was freed on bail watching Kirstin Wark’s trailer. He figured the only way he’d find Mattie was to find his brother first. Ew had Mattie stashed somewhere and he’d try to make her tell him where the money was and how to get it.

  I hope she just tells him and comes home.

  He waited all afternoon in the depressing trailer park watching the residents come and go, and finally a pickup stopped in front of Kirstin’s trailer. His brother limped out of the truck and crawled on his hands and knees across the shabby deck.

  He’s been shot. Good. That’ll make it easier.

  Lou left his truck parked in the empty lot and jogged down the dirt road to Kirstin’s trailer.

  SOMEONE’S COMING,” said Kirstin. She’d managed to get Ewing onto her bed and was pulling up the blanket when she heard footsteps on the deck.

  “Take my gun and shoot whoever it is.”

  “I can’t just shoot somebody, Ewing. I’m not you.”

  “You have to if you want to go to Mexico with me like we talked about.”

  “Are we really gonna be rich?”

  “This ain’t the time to talk about it, girl. Look out and see who it is.”

  Kirstin peeked out the bedroom window and she could see the guy on the deck. “It’s your brother that sings on the stage.”

  “Fuck, he’s pissed about Mattie.”

  “What should I do?”

  “Give me the gun and let him in.”

  Kirstin handed the gun back to Ewing and went to the door. “Hi, you’re his brother, ain’t you?”

  “Don’t try to tell me he’s not here,” said Lou. “I saw him.”

  “He’s shot in the leg, and he’s in bed.”

  “Let me see him.”

  Kirstin opened the door wider. “Sure thing.”

  Lou stomped into the trailer, through the dirty, cluttered kitchen and down the short hallway to the only bedroom. He stood at the foot of the bed and shouted at Ewing. “What did you do with Mattie?”

  “Killed her for taking my money. What the hell did you think I’d do with her? She was a greedy thieving bitch.”

  “You killed her?”

  “Course I did. Woman does me wrong and she’d dead. I ain’t a gutless piece of shit like you.”

  Lou pulled out his gun. “Let’s see who’s the gutless one.” He pointed at Ewing and fired.

  Kirstin screamed and ran past Lou out of the room.

  Ewing fired three quick shots and Lou fell to the floor in the doorway.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  THE GOVERNOR was being moved to intensive care when Jesse arrived with Lane. Through the glass doors, Blaine was watching the nurses getting Cat set, and didn’t see Jesse get off the elevator.

  “Gene is downstairs in Emergency,” said Jesse and Blaine stared.

  “How bad is he?” asked Blaine.

  “Couldn’t tell,” said Jesse. “Lots of blood all over his suit and all over the walls and floor of the toilet stall.”

  “This is a nightmare,” said Blaine. “I can’t leave here until Cat is stable.”

  “Why?” asked Lane. “Doesn’t she have her own security?”

  Blaine nodded. “Uh huh. She does.”

  “Where would Thompson go if he was shot?” asked Jesse.

  “He’s a loner, but if he needs help bad he might go back to Kirstin Wark’s trailer,” said Blaine. “We don’t have anybody on it right now, unless Calhoun does.”

  “Farrell can go take a look,” said Jesse. “He should be done out at Barton Creek.”

  “Yeah,” said Blaine, “put Farrell on that and the Chief will need an update on the whole day. It’s a wonder he hasn’t called me.”

  “I’ll take care of it,” said Jesse. “Lane can give me a hand with the paperwork.”

  FARRELL received the call from Jesse when he was almost back to the Agency. “Yeah, boss, what’s cooking?”

  Jesse explained about the shooting at the restaurant and Travis hitting Thompson.

  “So Blacky thinks he might go to the girl’s trailer for some medical?”

  “Possible.”

  “I’ll drive out there now to be sure. How’s Blacky holding up where Cat’s concerned?”

  “He’s pacing and waiting to see her.”

  “Fuck, he’s gonna be a goddam mess.”

  “Almost there now,” said Jesse.

  “I believe it. He’s way too attached to her.”

  “Or the other way around.”

  “Where’s Pablo?”

  “Right, you need backup. I think he finished what he was on and went back to the Agency.”

  “I’ll pick him up in case Thompson happens to be there and tries to kill my ass.”

  “FIVE MINUTES, Ranger Blackmore,” said the nurse as she opened the door for Blaine.

  He strode across the unit listening to the machines and monitors beeping and hissing, his own heart pounding out a rhythm. A little too fast for his liking. He’d have to get Misty to show him how to slow down his breathing like Houdini used to do.

  Cat was paler than pale—dead white. Redheads had pale skin, but this was more than that—she looked drained. Like she didn’t have a drop of blood left. Lying perfectly still, she looked like she might look in her casket. Dead. The white blanket pulled up to her chin didn’t help.

  What the hell was he going to say to the media?

  He sat in the chair beside her bed and picked up her limp hand. “Come on, Cat. You’re a strong girl. You can do this.”

  FARRELL called Pablo and told him they had another call before quitting time. It had already been a brutal day and it wasn’t over yet. He cruised around East Cesar, picked Pablo up at the Agency and they headed out to the trailer park.

  “Think he might go back there?” asked Pablo.

  “Depends how good a shot Travis got off,” said Farrell. “Trav ain’t bad, but he could use a little work.”

  “He’s been on bodyguard duty and hasn’t had much free time.”

  “True enough,” said Farrell. “Bet he’s sick of sitting on his ass watching the DA.”

  “But the customer was wounded on Travis’ watch,” said Pablo. “How’s the boss gonna feel about that?”

  “He won’t be happy about Perry Leighton, but he’ll be out of his mind about Cat Campbell.”

  “He got a thing for the lady Governor?”

  “No, nothing like that.” Farrell turned to Pablo across the console. “Would you, if you had Misty in your bed?”

  Pablo grinned. “Hell no. Miss Misty is some looker, and that soft d
rawl when she talks. Uh huh.”

  “Louisiana,” said Farrell. “Okay, we’re almost there. One more county road. I hope he’s here and we can end the nightmare.”

  “I’d like to bring him down,” said Pablo. “Be nice.”

  “Boss would buy us a steak,” said Farrell, “guaranteed.”

  Farrell steered the red Silverado into the trailer park and followed the single dirt track that wove between the shabby mobile homes. “Oh, don’t give me that bullshit.”

  “What?” Pablo peered at the truck Farrell was pointing at.

  “That’s his brother, Lou’s, truck. That asshole is itching to get himself killed.”

  Pablo frowned. “Think Thompson would kill his own brother?”

  “Sure do.” Farrell parked and hopped out. “Let’s clear the trailer. Go around and see if there’s a back door.”

  Pablo took off running and rounded the trailer in less than a minute. “Nope. One door.”

  Farrell knocked. “Police. Open up.”

  No answer. He turned the door knob with his shirttail and it wasn’t locked. The kitchen was a dirty mess, the sink piled high with dishes and the floor had never been swept in Kirstin’s lifetime. The stale air reeked of grease, body odor and mildew.

  “What a shithole,” said Pablo. He screwed up his face as they moved slowly through the long, narrow space with their weapons drawn.

  “All that’s left is the bedroom and bathroom.” Farrell checked the tiny bathroom and shook his head.

  Pablo opened the bedroom door and nodded. “Yep. Dead guy in here.”

  Farrell stepped into the room hoping it was Ewing, but it was the wrong brother. “Damn it. What a fuckin waste of a great musician.”

  Lou Thompson’s corpse was shoved far enough into the room to allow the door to close. His head was half under the bed.

  “Was he good?”

  “Fantastic. He had a dynamite band and was heading for a great career. Now he’s fuckin dead.” Farrell pointed at the door. “Let’s wait outside. We can have a smoke and get away from the stink.”

  Standing on the half-rotted deck, Farrell made all the appropriate phone calls. First 911, then Blacky and then Jesse.

  “You have to call the Chief too?” asked Pablo.

  “Blacky will do it.”

  “TIME to let Governor Campbell rest, Ranger Blackmore,” said Doctor Teague. “She’s stable and tomorrow she’ll open her eyes and begin her recovery. Trust me, she’ll be fine.”

  Blaine shook the doctor’s hand and left the unit. As he turned to look for Misty he spotted Lieutenant Governor Templeton Stokes speaking to one of the nurses. “Lieutenant Governor,” said Blaine and offered his hand.

  “Ranger Blackmore, nice to see you. Have you been in to see Catherine?”

  “Only for a couple of minutes, but her doctor assured me she’d wake up tomorrow. The bullet came out cleanly and she’s stable.”

  Stokes shook his gray head. “Where was she hit?”

  “Above her heart,” Blaine pointed to a spot on his chest, “right about here.”

  “My God,” said Stokes, “a bit lower and we would have lost her.”

  “You’ll have to pick up the slack, sir, for the next few weeks.”

  “Of course,” said Stokes. “I’ll put in extra hours to keep everything running smoothly.”

  “Have you made a formal statement, sir?” asked Blaine.

  “No, I haven’t. I wanted solid information about Catherine’s condition before I said anything to the media.”

  “They’ll be gathered outside,” said Blaine. I’ll say something when I leave. Should I tell them you’ll be speaking to them tomorrow?”

  “Yes, please, if you don’t mind. I’ll put something together when I go home.”

  OUTSIDE the hospital, the media mobbed Blaine and Misty as they descended the steps.

  “Get in the truck, sweetheart, I’ll be there in a couple of minutes.”

  “Ranger B, what can you tell us about the Governor? Is she going to make it?”

  All the reporters and news anchors were shouting questions at the same time. Blaine held up and hand and waited until they shut up and started listening.

  “I just left Governor Campbell and she’s doing okay. Her doctor assured me she was stable and would sleep until sometime tomorrow. The bullet came out cleanly and there were no complications during surgery. The bullet struck her here.” He pointed. “Well above her heart.”

  “Who was the shooter? Have you caught him yet?”

  “We’ve identified the shooter and he’ll be apprehended shortly.”

  “What about DA Leighton?” shouted a female reporter.

  “Mr. Leighton is doing well. His wife is with him. He was hit in the back of the shoulder and should make a full recovery. I’ll be speaking with him tomorrow after he’s had time to rest.”

  “Were they both targets of the same shooter?” someone shouted.

  “In my opinion, Governor Campbell was not the target. I believe she was hit by an errant shot.”

  “Then the DA was the target?”

  “I would have to say so.”

  “Will there be an official announcement from the Capitol?”

  “Yes. A few minutes ago, I spoke to Lieutenant Governor Stokes. He’s waiting upstairs to see Governor Campbell and he asked me to tell y’all he’s preparing an official announcement and will speak to y’all tomorrow.”

  One reporter shouted from the back of the pack. “I heard there were shots fired on the Capitol grounds.”

  Blaine nodded. “That information is accurate. The suspect was pursued by Deputy Bristol and subsequently wounded.”

  “If he was shot, why didn’t Deputy Bristol capture him?”

  “The suspect disappeared, and Deputy Bristol couldn’t leave the crime scene and the victims long enough to give chase. He acted correctly, and he did alert all patrols in the downtown area to be on the lookout for the suspect.”

  “Why wasn’t he working with a partner?”

  “He’d been guarding Mr. Leighton for several days and he was working alone.”

  They all began shouting again and Blaine edged towards his truck. “Mary has something for y’all with more details of the ongoing investigation. Check your emails.”

  CARM had supper on the stove when Blaine and Misty got back to the Agency. Blaine had his arm in the Sub-Zero and his hand on a cold Corona when Farrell called.

  “Lou Thompson is dead out here in Kirstin Wark’s trailer, bro.”

  “And Ewing is already gone?”

  “Yep, you got it. Pablo and I are waiting on the troops.”

  “I told him to stay in jail until we got his brother,” said Blaine.

  “Not a good listener,” said Farrell. “Can’t hear nothin now.”

  “I’ll have Carm keep your supper warm for you.”

  “Appreciate it.”

  ANNIE waited until dark and Lane still hadn’t returned from Austin. She liked him all right and he was a big strong hunk of a guy with all the experience in the world, but he couldn’t seem to focus on the task at hand. Some jobs took longer than others, and this one dragged on—even for her.

  Maybe he preferred working with men. A lot of guys were like that. They figured a woman couldn’t cut it and wouldn’t be watching their back as good as another guy could. All bullshit, but some guys thought that way—Travis for one. They’d had words over it more than once. Some guys didn’t think like that at all and they welcomed her protection. Her boys appreciated her skills.

  She gathered her equipment, loaded the saddlebags of her bike and took off. When she got within range, she’d check the tracker and see what Mick Marrero was up to.

  The March night was brisk and cool with very little moonlight, but her leathers kept her warm and cozy. She loved riding her bike and never seemed to have enough time to just ride for the sheer pleasure of it.

  When she got to Austin, Annie stopped in the parking lot of a strip mall a
bout a half mile from Mick’s house and checked the tracker. The Boxter was moving south. Not too far from her location. She could easily catch up. She squeezed the gas and breezed into the street.

  About ten minutes later, she caught up to Mick’s car at a stoplight. It was late, and most stores were closed. Maybe he was just cruising around the city looking for trouble.

  A little farther south, he took the ramp for thirty-five south and Annie smiled. He’s heading out of town.

  I’ve got him now.

  She followed along behind until the night traffic thinned, then she sped up, gave him a bit of space, but stayed right behind.

  He let the Porsche unwind on the interstate and Annie wondered if he had a job in San Antone. She watched and waited for her chance—a straight stretch of highway with no traffic around. Just when she thought it was a go, another car or truck would show up. This went on for miles until a rest area sign came up on the right side of the road. Mick turned his blinker on.

  He slowed a little, but not a lot, choosing instead to make a screeching turn at the last minute. The car peeled to the right and then made a quick left into the parking area.

  Annie gunned it, her Beretta in her waistband. She slowed and cruised into the parking lot as Mick picked a spot in front of the washroom facilities. He cut the engine and jumped out of the car, twirling the keys in his hand as he stepped up onto the sidewalk.

  Annie pulled in beside the Porsche and waited until Mick turned to look when he heard the rumble of the bike behind him. She squeezed off two quick shots, hitting Mick in the forehead. He dropped to the concrete without a sound. She shone her flash close to her bike, picked up her brass and she was gone.

  Continuing south, she took the first turn-around and headed north to Austin. When she reached route twenty-one, Annie headed east. Twenty-one hit seventy-one and she took a right. She squeezed the gas for the home stretch, glad the job was finally done. Her mind was focused on telling the man she wasn’t doing any more favors for him, and she didn’t see the doe and fawn in time to safely miss them.

  The doe leaped into the air and disappeared into the trees on the other side of the road, but the fawn froze in the bike’s headlight. Annie swerved towards the ditch to miss the spotted baby, caught loose gravel and dumped the Harley. The ditch was shallow, only a couple of feet deep, but the Softail was heavy on top of her.