“Grammy,” Saxton said. “I want to play it safe and get some tests done, just to make sure, okay? I love you and if something ever happened...and I didn’t try...we didn’t try...”
His voice was filled with emotion as her wrinkled fingers touched the stubble on his chin.
“For you Saxie, I will go,” she said.
In his arms, she looked like a small child as he bypassed the gurney to carry his grandmother to the ambulance. The EMT followed along behind him, placing the gurney in the rear of the vehicle as he climbed in with his grandmother cradled to his chest like a precious package, lowering her small body onto the portable bed. Saxton helped strap her in as the vehicle doors closed so that it could roll out to the medical center.
“We are right behind you son,” Bobby Ray called out to the back of the vehicle.
“Odessa,” Lucy said, “will you be okay until we come back?”
“Of course,” Odessa told her. “I will keep my cell in my pocket, please call me...update me.”
“We will,” Lucy said with a weak smile.
“Back up those stairs young lady,” Bobby Ray commanded as he reached for his Stetson. Dusty’s wife, Sue Ella came to the house earlier to speak with Ralph, the cook, about a special sauce for a roast she was making.
“I will stay with her,” Sue Ella said.
Sue Ella reached for Robbie. “Let’s get you some breakfast,” she said to Odessa. A faint smile crawled onto her lips as worry filled Odessa’s heart. Patsy Sterling was one of the toughest women she knew. She was even tougher than Dora Trodat and that woman with a towel in her hand was no joke. Neither was the phone call which followed from her parents later that morning.
By the end of the hour-long conversation with Dora, Sue Ella was sleeping in the chair, the babies were down for a nap and Odessa was ready to put a bullet into someone’s neck. The news from her mother was more disturbing than anything Odessa had heard, including seeing Ms. Patsy taken to the hospital. Emotions crawled up her neck, sitting on her throat, strangling her breathing as she replayed the conversation with her mother in her head.
Her sister, Ryanne, had left the United States to go and visit one of the worst men on the planet the week before. Eduardo Delgado, the head of a cartel of South American drug czars who had come to Texas to hurt them all, but ended up bedding her sister. In her heart, she felt her sister had gone to meet the horrible man out of spite since everyone told her that nothing good would come out of being with a man like Eduardo. Saxton tried to convince her that there was something deeper between the Delgado man and Ryanne, but Odessa refused to believe it. Based on the conversation with her mother, her silly sister was now married to another controlling man and moving to South America. To make matters worse, Agent Roget of the CIA had decided since her husband wasn’t available to take assignments, he would tutor her accident prone brother in a surveillance evaluation. Kevin Jr. could barely lean against a tree without getting a splinter and Roget wants to put him in OJT?
A wave of nausea hit her, curdling the eggs in her belly that Ralph had cooked for her earlier. The eggs came up in a soft yellow heap into her hands. A feeling of hopelessness occupied her as she sank to the bathroom floor by the toilet and cried. Between her aching breasts, the super duper long maxi pad she was wearing that could patch a hole in the side of the Titanic, and her crotch smelling like the fish market in Seattle the day after the boats left; it all became overwhelming to her senses.
Flying into Corpus Christie to rescue Ryanne from the first controlling husband, who beat her up and manipulated her, was one big ugly barrel of monkeys the family had to deal with before from Ryanne’s marriage to Dwight Dobbins. If her sister got into a world of trouble in Where-ever-the-Hell Columbia, South America, there was nothing to be done. The tears began to well in her eyes once more as the thought of Ryanne being hurt and alone locked in with Eduardo Delgado controlling her every move was too much. Other concerns shot off in her noggin like random variables in an equation which made no sense until she was able to sort the data and find a pattern.
Kevin Jr. in Panama with Roget? He stood out like a sore thumb. He was lanky. He was goofy and he had a permanent look of confusion plastered on his face. There was no way he would blend in and not be noticed. My brother is going to get killed.
Then there was Grandma Patsy.
Odessa lay on the floor with her arms wrapped around her knees. She rocked back and forth as the creak of the oversized padding in her pants complaining about each of her movements. The tears would not stop as she cried for the old and the new.
“Dear Lord, please...don’t let them die,” she said. Slowly, she tucked her body into a fetal position, lying on her side on the thick bathroom rug. “Please protect and watch over them all.”
Chapter 3- What Would Have Been...
Panama City, Panama
As hard as he tried on the plane to explain the subtleties of surveillance to Kevin Jr., Agent Roget realized three hours into the trip that he’d made a mistake. Six hours into the mission there was little to no doubt he had made a huge error in judgment when two men in black shirts, with snake tattoos on their hands, threw a dark colored bag over the young man’s brain bucket before chucking him into a black SUV and speeding off.
His feelings were a little more than hurt when he called his supervisor to report the change in the status of the mission. Carlton Malone, the supervisory agent, and his boss, ripped into Roget as if the man had fondled his little sister. There were no cushions to the blows of his anger against Roget’s ear.
“How in the hell did he get kidnapped after only six hours into the mission Roget?” Malone yelled into the line. “Hell, your flight was four and a half hours of the mission!”
“See what had happened was...,” Roget started in his defense.
“Don’t give me that crap!” Malone screamed at him. “You know that boy has some crazy ass parents and relatives. I am not going to have his towel swinging Mama coming in here killing people with a flipping wet dishrag! Get your ass out there and find that kid, Roget!”
Peculiar thoughts zinged past his noodle as the severity of the situation began to bubble up, giving rise to the realization on whom they had actually taken. Not only did Kevin Jr. have some crazy ass parents, his sister Odessa recently had two babies which meant she was doubly charged with hormones and would possibly tear him apart limb by limb when she found out. She was going to find out. She always found out.
She was like a Rainman with a homing beacon on bad guys.
“Definitely...,” he mumbled as he hung up the phone. “Time for Jeopardy.”
Jeopardy is exactly what he walked into. He was furious with himself for not being more cautious. He should have been more watchful with the kid, but they hadn’t done anything yet. The mission wasn’t even completely underway as he and Kevin Jr. went into the market. The idea was to have lunch, practice some observation techniques and have the kid follow a bad guy as a test, then come home. That was it. That was all the mission was supposed to be. But, leave it to that damned Kevin Jr.
He stood out like a candle in a room full of dark spirits. His genial nature covered him, his expressions and everything he touched lit up like a ray of sunshine. He couldn’t help it; that is who he was. Is. Present tense Roget. A childlike innocence hovered over Kevin Jr. as if he was seeing the world for the first time through bright eyes. Roget could not focus on what would have been, that was the conditional perfect of the verb to be. What would have been...the conditional perfect was now perfectly screwed up. He loved the kid’s wonderment about life. He admired Kevin Jr.’s ability to see past the obvious to a deeper meaning. Everything was amazing to him. Especially women.
Women were the kid’s kryptonite.
Roget should have known better after Puerto Rico when the kid had been kidnapped because a beautiful woman who was damned near naked knocked on his door at two in the morning. Like a dumbass, Kevin Jr. opened the door and was snatched up, then near
ly fed to a giant green anaconda formerly owned by a bad guy named Mateo. His stomach congealed the little breakfast he had eaten on the plane. The bad guys knew more about Kevin Trodat Jr. than he did.
“I only turned my back for a few minutes,” Roget mumbled to himself. In his thoughts, he replayed the scene of Kevin Jr. being taken.
We were about to have lunch.
I got a phone call.
“Hey, go grab us a table,” Roget said to him.
We were outside the café. Roget’s eyes darted left and right as he tried to recall minute details. The kid took a seat. The waitress came over to the table.
Wait.
The waitress.
She wasn’t Panamanian!
Her skin tone was more cinnamon...maybe nutmeg...West Indian...Colombian? The shoes...were they flats or heels...the skirt...white...what waitress wears a white skirt?
“Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!” Roget admonished himself. The moment she walked into the café he should have known something was wrong. A stunned expression flashed on the kid’s face as he watched the seductress. All of the details Roget picked up on but did not see began filling him with guilt. The woman was practiced. When she walked her hips rolled like a squirrel was under her skirt playing her butt cheeks like bongos. The kid had spotted it. His mouth hung open as he watched her walk away.
“Stupid Roget!” he said aloud. “So damned stupid.”
It didn’t matter. The names he called himself were nothing in comparison to the names he was going to be called by Odessa Blakemore if he didn’t go and find her brother. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted movement. A bearded young man walked up to him, purpose on his face, but something else was in his eyes.
“Hello, Roget,” the young man said.
He was a good looking young guy with a lot of swagger covered in arrogance, yet something about him was familiar. Roget checked his hands for tattoos and there were none. The dark eyes bore into him as his hand extended at the seat, pointing as a visual question of asking permission to have a seat.
“I was sent to lend you a hand,” the young man said. He looked like a college kid on vacation. He wore a pair of beige board shorts, Birkenstocks on his feet and a colorful island shirt.
“A hand doing what?” Roget wanted to know.
“Teaching young Trodat the art of blending in,” he said with a frown on his face. “It seems I arrived at this location too late. The kid has been abducted.”
Roget didn’t like this. He didn’t like it at all. “Yes, he was taken about a half hour ago,” the agent said softly.
“Don’t worry, they will not kill him,” the handsome man said.
“How do you know this?” Roget asked.
“He is too valuable. If the goal is to lure Blakemore or repay the kid’s mother for that whole towel thing in Puerto Rico...they will allow him to live,” the man said.
“I am too emotionally invested,” Roget said aloud.
“My brother thought so as well, and he knew this would go South which is why he sent me.”
“Who is your brother?”
“Eddie,” he said as he stood. “We have to move or you are next. You, unfortunately, only have value to Blakemore. If you are taken next, they will torture and kill you, either before or right after Blakemore’s arrival, to throw him off his shooting game. He is in the air and on his way here.”
“That makes me feel great...wait, your brother is Eddie? Who the hell is Eddie?”
“Eduardo Delgado is my brother,” he said. “I am Carlos.”
Chapter 4 – They would be being...
Houston, Texas
Odessa heard voices coming from the kitchen causing her to dash down the stairs to see what was going on. Saxton, Bobby Ray, and Lucy had returned from the hospital. She had so many questions, but Grandma Patsy was still in Saxton’s arms. He cradled his grandmother close just as he’d done when he carried her out to the ambulance.
“Ms. Patsy, how is everything?” she asked the matriarch, but her eyes were on Saxton.
“They fuss too much. I am just fine other than being old as hell,” she said with a weak smile. Connard had also arrived at the same time, concern on his face for his grandmother, but also his mother. It had only been a few months of sobriety for Lucy, the last thing she needed was another setback to undo all of her hard work. He disappeared looking to hide any bottles of wine about the house.
“Ralph!” Bobby Ray called out. “Let’s get some chow going to get something in our bellies. Lucy Girl, let’s get you some coffee.” He led his wife into the kitchen as Saxton carried Ms. Patsy down the hall to her quarters.
“Mr. Blakemore,” Odessa said. Her fingers rested gently on her father in law’s arm. “Is Ms. Patsy okay?”
“It was a coronary artery spasm. Her left arm is very weak, so is the vision in her left eye which may have been the case all along, and she never told anyone. We are going to have to keep a close watch over her, she may be a bit grumpier than usual, but it is all good,” Bobby Ray said. “She can’t be any worse than Dusty, gimping about, giving everyone hell.”
“Are you worried?” she asked.
Bobby Ray watched his wife walk towards the kitchen. Connard had returned, hugging his mother close. Her arms around Connard’s waist, leaning into him for strength. In the other direction, he watched Saxton’s strong back carrying a wisp of a woman like she was a small child. Belva had arrived, looking far more worried than she should have...which struck Odessa as odd considering the adversarial if not standoffish relationship she had with her grandmother. The negative space in the air pushed the entire family vibe off center. Something is wrong. Belva knows it...
“I worry all the time Odessa. Just not about the things you think,” Bobby Ray said to her. The crow’s feet around his eyes crinkling softly as he smiled at her with his kind eyes. His favorite hat was in one hand as weathered fingers ran through his black and gray hair. The hand left his hair to rub his eyes then wipe at the tip of his nose with the back of his finger. Saxton had that same nose. So did Robbie as well as Austin. The strong, aristocratic Blakemore nose was a distinguishing trait in the family.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” she asked.
“Yes, get my son to eat something before his belly gets all cater-whompy with stomach acid,” he said to her. A large paw-like hand patted her on the shoulder as he walked by Odessa to speak with Belva who seemed completely off kilter.
A light bulb flickered in the corner of her sleep deprived mind. I don’t really know this man. As often as she had been around Bobby Ray Blakemore, for some odd reason, today was the first day she actually saw him. She actually saw the man, not Saxton’s father or Lucy’s husband or even her father-in-law. Today, she caught a glimmer of Robert Raymond Blakemore the first. The second Robert Raymond Blakemore died as a child, which made Saxton the oldest son by default. Her son, Robbie, was named Robert Raymond Blakemore the second to carry on the honor of holding the name. Saxton had taken several exceptions to what the name of Blakemore meant to others as well as to the men and women who carried it, especially since her husband had left the family business to carve out a name of his own. Bobby Ray never seemed to buckle under any weight.
She suddenly began to wonder what it was really like, being Mr. Blakemore.
Saxton Blakemore walked into the bedroom looking as if fear had aged him ten years in a mere matter of hours. Eyes which usually were bright and alert looked sunken with dark circles closing in on the skin giving an appearance of a broken spirited bird. Worry was all over his face as he sat on the side of the bed, his head resting in his hands.
“Baby, she will be okay,” Odessa tried to comfort him.
“No, she won’t,” he said sadly. “She’s old Odessa. She is also tired. That woman held this family together when my Momma fell apart. Gammy has been holding it together for so long that she is plain old exhausted from just keeping her back rigid.”
“That is not true and stop filling you
r head with those kinds of thoughts! Ms. Patsy is a fighter. We just have to make sure she has a reason to fight,” Odessa told him.
He said nothing as he stood slowly to remove his shirt. “I think I am going to take a bath. Did the housekeeper return Plucky?”
Plucky was his favorite rubber duck that he liked in the bath as he soaked. The little yellow bird needed to be cleaned after it was baptized in green poo from Robbie. Odessa had never bothered to ask him why the rubber duck was on the changing station in the first place in the line of green fire. Other issues were on her mind, issues of grave importance, she only prayed that the grave didn’t include the bodies of either her sister or her brother ending up in one.
“Saxton, I have some news to share,” she said as she sat down on the bed. The babies were sleeping, but not for long, especially after what she was about to tell her husband.
He watched her face for clues. “This is bad isn’t it?” He took a seat beside her on the bed. Her small hand resting on his thigh.
“Ryanne and Eduardo are married,” she said.
Saxton sprung to his feet. His voice was loud, “Shut the front door!”
Austin was startled from her sleep and began to cry. Odessa moved over to the crib, picking up her daughter, bouncing her against her breast to soothe the baby.
“Yes, and she is also pregnant,” Odessa said.
Saxton’s mouth was wide open. “Get the hell outta here! She was only gone for a week!”
“No, they made the baby when she snuck out that night like some alley cat in heat,” Odessa said with a frown.
Robbie was now awake and wanting to be fed. Odessa handed Austin to Saxton as she picked up her son. As if it were second nature, she sat in the rocker, opened her blouse to free her breast, as Robbie latched on. His eyes were focused on his father as he suckled. Saxton’s forehead furrowed.
“Odessa, don’t babies usually close their eyes when they feed?”
“Yes, why?” she asked as he now held Austin, who would soon want her turn.
Being Mr. Blakemore (The Blakemore Files Book 7) Page 2