Backwater

by Carolina Mac

  “Get some fuckin clothes on. We ain’t got time to asshole around.”

  “Hey, I’m tired. Give me a minute.”

  “I’ll be in the boat and if you ain’t there in three minutes, I’m leaving and cutting you out of your share.”

  “Like hell you are.”

  Dave ambled down to the dock where Whitey was waiting in the big jon boat with the motor running. He climbed in and sat down facing Whitey.

  “We getting paid this morning for our last run?” asked Whitey.

  “Should be,” said Dave, “We did our part perfect. He’s got no complaints.”

  “What if he don’t feel like paying us and caps us instead?”

  Dave shrugged. “Then I guess we wouldn’t be delivering his shit for him anymore, would we?”

  “Guess not,” said Whitey. “If we was dead.”

  Dave glanced towards Tennessee’s trailer and didn’t see any movement. “Take off, he ain’t coming.”

  Seadrift.

  BLAINE and Farrell sat on the wide porch of the beach house watching the sun come up over San Antonio Bay. Boat after boat sped by them coming south and heading into open water looking for bigger fish.

  The screen door opened behind them and Casey wandered out with a mug in his hand. “Hey, guys. I didn’t know if anybody was up.”

  “The girls are still sleeping,” said Farrell. “They were tired after their first day of channel fishing.”

  Casey sat down on the steps and sipped his black coffee. “When Miss Misty, the voodoo princess, said the words about a dead person lying in the bottom of the boat, did you believe her?” He stared at Blaine for an answer.

  “Uh huh,” said Blaine. “Sure did. Misty is a physic and she has visions. Sometimes she sees things she doesn’t want to see.”

  Casey made a face. “I wouldn’t want to see dead bodies. Nope. Not doing it.”

  Farrell grinned.

  “So, if those fishing guys was floating a dead body somewhere, who’s gonna call them on it?” asked Casey. “What if it weren’t the first one they done?”

  “Two good questions,” said Blaine. “We might have to make another trip to their little piece of paradise and ask a few probing questions.”

  “I’ll stay here,” said Casey, “and watch out for the ladies.”

  “Thanks, bro.” Farrell gave him a fist bump. “Nice of you.”

  “What’s everybody talking about?” Neil came out and plopped down next to them.

  “Talking about them.” Casey was on his feet, hollering and pointing at one of the boats speeding by. “That’s the Whitey guy whipping by right now. I can tell by his hair.”

  Blaine stood up to get a better view of the boat heading towards open water. “Could have been. I’m not sure.”

  “They had a jon boat at their dock,” said Farrell, “Big honkin motor on it.”

  “Was them. I’m sure,” said Casey. “Nothing wrong with my eyes.”

  “I didn’t notice,” said Neil. “I need to wake up a bit.”

  “Only two of them,” said Blaine, “it wasn’t a charter. They must be doing something else.”

  “Like picking up on Matagorda Island,” said Farrell. “Kamps talks about it all the time.”

  Blaine raised a dark eyebrow. “Did you let anybody know?”

  “I might have mentioned it to the Chief.”

  Washington. D.C.

  ANNIE AND TRAVIS had breakfast in their room at the hotel after Travis had a smoke on the balcony.

  “We haven’t accomplished a damn thing, Annie-girl,” said Travis. “Just hanging around the Capitol city wasting time.”

  “Hey, weren’t you the guy who said hanging around with me was never a waste of time?”

  Travis chuckled. “I might have said that.”

  Annie shook her head. “Eat your pancakes.”

  Annie’s cell rang, and she nodded at Travis. This was it.

  “The Lieutenant Governor of Texas passed away, dear. His funeral is later today, and that’s where you should be.”

  “Yes, sir. Do I have time to make it?”

  “Plenty of time. Your plane is waiting.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “My pleasure.”

  Annie pressed end and said to Travis, “Shove those pancakes in your face, sugar pop, we’ve got a plane to catch.”

  Austin.

  JESSE and the Agency crew were already at the Capitol when the Governor arrived with Lily at her side at a quarter to nine.

  “I’m only working until noon, then I have to get ready for the funeral and for the reception at the mansion,” said Catherine.

  “Fine,” said Jesse. “Lil will stay with you in the spare office while you’re here, and Calhoun and I will be with you at the funeral.”

  “I feel you’re making too much of this, Jesse.” Catherine held up a hand. “Not faulting your intentions, but I don’t see anything happening with my security doubled and Special Agent Wyman on high alert. You and the boys are supposed to be on vacation, and here y’all are working.”

  Jesse’s phone signaled, and he answered. “Yep, be right there, Fletch.”

  “What is it?” asked Catherine.

  “Fletch thinks he found something. The cams have been tampered with.”

  “Who would have access?” asked the Governor.

  “Nobody but security personnel,” said Jesse. “And that compounds the problem. I’m heading down there now.” To Lil: “Take Mrs. Warburton with y’all and stay in the spare office until noon with the door locked.”

  “Yeah, boss, we’re good,” said Lil as she took the Governor’s arm.

  Catherine didn’t have a happy face.

  THE SURVEILLANCE room in the basement of the Capitol was crowded with bodies when Jesse arrived. The head of building security, J.C. Putnam, was antsy about non-vetted personnel entering his domain and personally checked Jesse’s creds at the door.

  “Ranger Quantrall, I believe you will find your man working at the back desk.” He turned and pointed. “This has never happened before, in all my years here at the Capitol. No one has ever broken into the Governor’s office.”

  Not true. I know of one other time at least.

  Jesse said nothing and made his way through the security men to find Fletcher. “What have you got, kiddo?”

  “Watch this, boss.” Fletcher cued up a portion of the surveillance and then stopped it. “There. Did you see it?”

  “Again?” Jesse moved closer, hunched down and peered over Fletcher’s shoulder and the film was there and gone. “Honestly, no,” said Jesse.

  Fletch played it for the third time and Jesse couldn’t pick up on it. Fletcher was dynamite at his job. He’d spent hours finding this one second flaw. He tapped the time showing on the screen and said, “We need to find out who was on duty at three twenty a.m. and start with the guys on that shift.”

  “Fantastic,” said Jesse. “Gene will want to handle it, so I’ll let him know right away. He knows the whole security team better than anyone and we’ve got more to do than interview his staff.”

  Feeling they’d made headway, Jesse left Fletcher and was in the elevator on his way up when Lopez called. “Morning, Lieutenant, how’s your day going?”

  “Ain’t worth a shit, Jesse.”

  “And you can’t wait to tell me why?”

  “I’ll tell you why. Three gang shootings this week. The little fuckers are out there running wild and capping each other because they know Blacky and Farrell ain’t on them.”

  “Shit,” said Jesse. “Drug related?”

  “Always.”

  “I’ll talk to the Chief later. I’ll see him at the Lieutenant Governor’s funeral.”

  “Yeah, see and that too.” Lopez was pissed. “I got all kinds of squads tied up on fuckin crowd control and the dealers know it. Dozens of them will be downtown in broad daylight today slinging dope in every direction.”

  “Won’t the narcs help you out?”

&n
bsp; “They’re trying.”

  “Wish I could help you,” said Jesse. “I’ll do what I can to help you hold the line.”

  Seadrift.

  “NEIL, you’re in charge of entertaining Casey and Mary,” said Farrell. “Play Frisbee on the beach and go for a long jog. See if there’s any great bars or seafood places along the beach we can hit later.”

  “I’m down with beach time,” said Neil. “Maybe me and Casey will meet hot chicks and take them out for drinks later.”

  Casey nodded.

  “I’m writing up a report on the area for our travel writer at the paper,” said Mary. “I need to do a lot of exploring and the boys can help me.”

  “We should be back by lunch,” said Blaine. “I’ll take y’all somewhere nice to eat, and then y’all can do some shopping. Casey could use a change of clothes.”

  “The kid needs shoes,” mumbled Farrell on the way to the truck.

  Coastal Backwater.

  BLAINE PARKED the truck next to the rental office and Farrell pointed at the closed sign. Black marker scrawled on a torn piece of cardboard.

  Closed. Back at noon.

  “Ten after ten,” said Farrell. “Think that was these same guys in the boat Casey saw?”

  Blaine hopped out of the truck and looked towards the dock. “Could have been, the jon boat ain’t here.”

  “Damn,” said Farrell. “Maybe the kid was right. What the hell are they doing?”

  Blaine helped Misty down from the sidestep and held her in his arms for a long moment. “I love you, Mist. Want to walk around a bit and see what shakes out?”

  She giggled. “There is so much ugly stuff swirling around here it’s hard to sort out.”

  “Yeah? You didn’t say that before.”

  “It’s all mixed up,” said Misty. “Let me check the boat again.”

  They strolled down to the water and Misty walked to the end of the dock. She squatted down beside the mud boats and held on to the side with one hand. She sat that way for a couple of minutes, then began talking in the low voice.

  Blaine knelt down beside her to hear what she was saying.

  I’m so happy she can talk again.

  “Fight. Big fight. Three against one.”

  “What was the fight about?” asked Blaine in a whisper.

  “Money. The man in the suit wanted money for the boats.”

  “Wonder where they bought the boats?” asked Farrell.

  “Take pictures of the registry numbers,” said Blaine. “I’ll find out where the boats came from.”

  “Hey, what are you guys doing near my boats?” a voice hollered from the trees a little way up the hill. Tennessee stomped out of his trailer with the skinny woman behind him and headed for the dock.

  “Just wondering where y’all bought these cool mud boats,” said Blaine. “Think I might get me one.”

  “Place in Houston,” said Tennessee. “Big boat dealer there. All kinds of boats.”

  The skinny woman walked away. She turned and headed for the dilapidated house.

  “Why is the rental office closed if y’all are here?” asked Farrell.

  “You ask a lot of questions.” Tennessee took a stance in front of Farrell. “Y’all are cops, ain’t ya?”

  “Cops go fishing just like everybody else,” said Blaine.

  “Well, I got work to do, so I got no more time for cop questions.” Tennessee turned around and swaggered back to his rusted out trailer half hidden in the bush. He went inside the slammed the door behind him.

  “Nice guy,” said Farrell with a wink.

  “Let’s try the woman,” said Blaine. “She looked iffy.”

  “She’s in tough shape,” said Farrell. “Meth—looks like Becca used to look when she was using.”

  Farrell knocked on the door and the woman opened it right away. “Want to rent a boat?”

  She was wearing shorts and a halter top, black and blue bruises covering most of her body. Her three-color hair was matted and twisted into an elastic and her eyes told the tale. She was high and the minute she opened the door she began raving about how mean Big Dave was to her.

  Blaine took stock of her injuries and from personal experience figured her ribs were broken from the way she was standing in front of them all hunched over. “Do you want to go to the hospital, ma’am?”

  “I ain’t no ma’am. I’m Tanya.”

  “You need a doctor, Tanya,” said Blaine. “You’re injured.”

  “Ain’t going. Got no insurance.”

  “Where’s Big Dave now?” asked Farrell.

  “Went with Whitey.”

  “Where did they go?”

  “Picking up,” she said and leaned on the door frame for support.

  Farrell wiped the sweat off his forehead and moved into the shade. It was going to be a scorcher.

  Blaine pressed her. “Why didn’t Tennessee go with them?”

  “Too slow. Big Dave is pissed and he’s gonna cut Tenn out of his share.”

  “Who are they working for, Tanya?” asked Blaine.

  “Umm…” She squinted her eyes shut, then opened them and shook her head. “Can’t think of it right off.”

  Blaine took a card out of his wallet and handed it to her. “If Big Dave hurts you again, you can call me. I’ll help you.”

  “Why the hell would you?”

  Austin.

  JESSE stood in the foyer of the Governor’s mansion and watched Catherine descend the curved staircase. She was stunning in a black designer suit and a big black hat. Maybe it was the same outfit she’d worn to the previous funeral, but he didn’t think so. Not that he noticed what women were wearing too much, but he could tell good quality from a cheap imitation.

  He pointed to the sitting room where Carlos, Lily and Luke were waiting.

  “What’s going on?” asked Catherine.

  Jesse closed the French doors to give them some privacy. “Just a couple of things before we leave,” said Jesse. “Presuming that while you’re at the church it might be a good time to search your private quarters, I’m asking permission to put Lily and Luke inside and Carlos outside the door.”

  Catherine frowned. “Really? Come on, Jesse. Do you know how many staff members are buzzing around here all the time?”

  “I do know,” He leaned an elbow on the fireplace careful not to knock off some precious heirloom belonging to the state. “and with all the added activity preparing for the reception, it would be the perfect time to send someone in unnoticed.”

  “Oh,” said Catherine. “I see your point. Of course, they can go in. Get them set up and then we have to go.”

  With the team in position, Jesse escorted Catherine to the limo and handed her into the back seat. He nodded to Gene Wyman who was standing beside his SUV ready to follow. His team had doubled in numbers and was ready to roll.

  MEDIA numbers were just as much a problem at this funeral as it had been at the last. It seemed everybody needed pictures of a state funeral. Lieutenant Governor Stokes was dead and the question on everybody’s minds was who would replace him? The Texas Senate would elect a new President and that person would become the Lieutenant Governor of Texas, if Jesse understood it correctly. Politics was not his forte. His greatest fear and one he shared with Catherine, was that Senator Royce would rally enough support to win the position.

  Although it was only a few blocks to the church, it took more than half an hour to get to a point where Agent Roderick would consider letting the Governor out of the limo.

  A sea of reporters stood outside the church and shouted questions as Jesse escorted Catherine inside. Already packed with family, dignitaries, media people and looky-loos, Jesse steered the Governor to a reserved section of pews near the front, a few rows behind the Stokes family. Jesse didn’t know the family, but there seemed to be a large turnout.

  The service was lengthy and formal. When the minister was done his part, Stokes’ brother gave the eulogy, then other dignitaries from all over the state
of Texas were called upon to speak.

  Catherine was last. Jesse escorted her to the lectern, returned to his seat, then fetched her when she was finished. Her speech was moving and well written. Sounded a lot like Blacky.

  A final hymn, a long prayer and the service was over.

  ANNIE and Travis landed at Austin-Bergstrom, rushed to get ready for the funeral then arrived late and couldn’t get anywhere near the church. Austin PD had cordoned off several blocks around the grid-locked area and were letting no one through.

  “Let’s go straight to the cemetery,” said Annie.

  “Recon would be good,” said Travis, “to see what you’re up against. I’ve been to Austin Hills once before and there are a lot of mature trees if I remember correctly.”

  “Trees are good.”

  Travis drove through the gate, circled around and Annie watched for the freshly dug grave. “There it is.”

  “Okay,” said Travis. He drove on by and parked two rows over close to a tall ash.

  “Good enough,” said Annie. “Think I’ll look at the tombstones while we wait.”

  Travis made a face. “Don’t do that, Annie-girl. It’s creepy.”

  “No, it isn’t,” said Annie, “I love reading the names.” She was on her little walk-about when the funeral procession began arriving. Close behind the cars transporting the Stokes family was the Governor’s limo and then her security.

  Annie watched as Jesse stepped out of the limo, helped Catherine out, and then Chief Calhoun appeared on the other side of the car.

  Annie ducked behind a wide tombstone, so they wouldn’t see her.

  “What are you doing?” asked Travis.

  “Hiding. Pass me my rifle. I’ve got to get to my tree.”

  “He ain’t here,” said Travis, “don’t think he’s coming.

  “Shit,” said Annie and her cell rang. Tyler. “Double shit.”

  “Where are you, baby?” asked Ty.

  “We broke up, remember?”

  “Can you come to Boots for a drink tonight? I want to talk.”

  “I’m at a funeral, Ty. How about nine tonight?”

  “Nine is good. I want some truck time to say I’m sorry.”