Backwater

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Backwater Page 8

by Carolina Mac


  Misty hung on to the side of the boat as it rocked wildly.

  Blaine waited for Dave to surface and he didn’t. Casey’s eyes were wide as he stared at the gators coming towards the spot where Big Dave had gone under.

  Then there was a second splash as Whitey dived out of the other boat and disappeared under the brackish water. Seconds later Whitey’s head popped up and he held Dave by the neck. He pushed Dave to the side of the boat and Blaine and Casey pulled the big guy up and over the side. Dave flopped in a heap into the bottom of the boat and lay there moaning and bleeding, a huge gator bite in the calf of his leg.

  Whitey scrambled into the other boat as the gators circled. “Blood in the water,” he hollered, “We need to get out of here.”

  “It looks like Big Dave could use a few stitches,” said Blaine. He sat down at the controls and followed Whitey.

  Casey sat close to Misty and said, “I worship you, my voodoo princess.”

  Misty giggled.

  That could have been me. Thanks, Mist. I love you.

  Austin.

  AFTER the Senator’s arraignment, Jesse drove back to DPS to question Dean Hammett. The gunman had been assigned a public defender by the name of Michael Nunez and they were waiting in room three and had been for a few minutes.

  “Sorry to keep y’all waiting,” said Jesse. “Had to go to the senator’s arraignment. Wouldn’t want to miss an event like that.”

  The shooter stared at Jesse but didn’t say anything.

  Jesse set up the interview and dove in. “The good news is, Mr. Hammett, my dogs found your gun.”

  Hammett stared at his hands.

  “Yep, so as soon as the lab is finished printing your weapon we’ll have some nice solid evidence to take to trial. Anything you’d like to say?”

  “Sorry, I can’t say anything.”

  Jesse shrugged. “You had a chance to talk to your attorney, but that was before we had the gun. Maybe you two should have another meeting and we’ll talk again tomorrow.”

  “That’s a solid suggestion, Ranger Quantrall,” said Nunez. “I believe another meeting would be in my client’s best interest.”

  Jesse left the room hoping Nunez could talk Hammett into giving up who he was working for in exchange for a lesser sentence. Depended on the fear factor. How afraid was Hammett of Senator Royce? That was the key.

  Sitting in the driver’s seat of the Range Rover, Jesse called the Governor’s cell.

  “Jesse, thanks for calling. How did the arraignment go?”

  “Royce is out on bail. In truth, they couldn’t hold him, but we’ll have more on him shortly and it will be more difficult for him the second time around.”

  “Isn’t the tape enough to convict him?”

  “Royce’s attorney would say Stokes was lying to save himself, but with you on the stand, it would be harder to refute.”

  “Is that why he sent the shooter?”

  “If I had to guess,” said Jesse, “I’d say that was a warning shot. If Dean Hammett is a military sniper, I don’t think he would have shot the flag unless it was intentional.”

  Catherine sucked in a little breath. “Oh, no.”

  “But Red found the gun in a shed a couple of blocks away. So, today we have that to work with.”

  “I’d like to talk to Leighton about the tape and at least let him hear it and get his opinion on what I should do.”

  “I’ll set it up,” said Jesse. “Leighton will come to you. I don’t want you out of the Capitol, flitting around the city.”

  Catherine giggled. “Okay, no flitting.”

  Coastal Backwater.

  TWENTY-FIVE minutes passed as they twisted and turned through the labyrinth of channels. Whitey knew the backwaters and Blaine had to give him that. He led them the quickest way back to the rental dock. They had to get Dave to Whitey’s truck for transport to a hospital.

  The boys helped get a bleeding, soaking wet, cursing Big Dave out of the mud boat and onto the dock. Whitey ran behind the rental shack for his pickup and drove it down close to the water. The boys helped Big Dave into the back of Whitey’s truck where he flopped across the back seat.

  Farrell had wrapped a rag around the wound, but the bleeding hadn’t slowed, and couldn’t from a hole that big. Gators had sharp teeth and seventy-four to eighty in their mouths at any given time. Facts supplied by Neil.

  “Why don’t I give you the sirens ahead of y’all,” said Blaine, “and we’ll whip into town faster.”

  Whitey’s eyes widened. “Why would you do that when Big Dave was so contrary to y’all?”

  Blaine shrugged and jumped into the truck.

  “What about our stuff?” hollered Neil as he ran to catch up.

  “We’ll come back and get it,” said Farrell.

  We need to search this hell hole and Blacky knows it.

  Austin.

  FLETCHER drove the surveillance unit following the Senator and his attorney, riding in the attorney’s silver Mercedes SL.

  “Wonder where he’s taking his client?” asked Luke.

  “Maybe to his own vehicle,” said Fletcher. “Or maybe he’s gonna drive him home to his ranch out by Gatesville.”

  “Maybe he has an apartment or condo in Austin for when he’s doing senator stuff at the Capitol,” said Luke.

  “Probably does,” said Fletch. “He’s rich, ain’t he?”

  Luke shrugged. “I’m not privy to his financial situation, but most senators aren’t hurting too bad for cash.”

  “Okay, we’re turning,” said Fletcher. “High rise condo.” He pointed at the sign. “Austonian. I heard they were fancy.”

  “We need a tag in there,” said Luke. “That’s gonna be a problem.”

  “Boss can do it. He’s got a big pair. He’ll knock on the door and plant the fuckin thing and the senator won’t even know what’s going down.”

  Luke grinned.

  Seadrift.

  WITH SIREN screaming and strobe lights flashing, Blaine cranked the wheel and drove up to the front door at Seadrift Medical Centre.

  Farrell ran inside, corralled an orderly with a stretcher and came back to load up Big Dave. “Gator bite,” said Farrell to the orderly. To Whitey: “Stay and take care of your boss.”

  “Will do,” said Whitey. “Thanks for the siren and the lights.”

  “No problem.” Farrell hopped into the back seat beside Mary. “Let’s get up there while we still got daylight.”

  “I’m dropping the girls off,” said Blaine. “They’ve had enough fun for one day.”

  Misty smiled. “I think I’ll cook for y’all tonight.”

  “Yahoo,” hollered Neil, “I love that Cajun food.”

  “I want to write up my notes from today before I forget anything,” said Mary. “That was exciting stuff.”

  “Thanks to the voodoo princess,” said Casey. “She put the whammy on the branch and landed it on Big Dave’s head. I saw her do it.”

  Blaine smiled. “Thanks, Mist.”

  “No problem, Beb.” She leaned over the console and kissed him.

  Coastal Backwater.

  BLAINE drove from the medical center straight back to Big Dave’s rental place. He parked the truck next to the rental shack and jumped out. “First, load up our stuff, then each take a building and do a thorough search. I’ll start on the house, Farrell take the trailer, and Neil and Casey, load up then search the office.

  “Where does Whitey live?” asked Farrell. “He seemed to come from the other way—in the trees.”

  “Boys can check into that when they’re done with the office.” Blaine knocked on the door of the house and waited. He hadn’t seen Tanya but maybe she was coming down from a high and she was sick. No answer. He tried the door and it was unlocked.

  He opened it and gave a shout out. “Tanya, it’s me, Ranger Quantrall. I’m coming in to see if you’re okay.” He crossed the filthy kitchen, the stink of garbage and vomit overwhelming in the heat. The buzz of flies so
unded ominous.

  Shit. I hope she’s not dead in here.

  Three doors opened off the short back hallway. Two bedrooms and a bathroom. Blaine opened them one at a time. Bathroom first. It reeked, but it was empty. He sucked in a breath and pushed one of the other doors open. Nothing but junk and a few boxes. Storage room. Okay, door number three. He knocked twice, then turned the knob and opened the door. Unmade bed, dirty laundry. Nothing else.

  A quick search of the four dresser drawers turned up forty dollars cash and nothing else. He searched the kitchen on his way out. Passed through the living room if you could call it that. No furniture in there to search. One broken down recliner and a sofa with the stuffing hanging out.

  He left and went to join Farrell in Tennessee’s trailer, steps away from the house through the woods. The door was open, and Blaine could smell it ten feet before he got to the door.

  Death in the trailer.

  He stood on the metal step and hollered to his brother. “What you got in there, bro?”

  “Both of them in the bed.”

  “Call it in.”

  Blaine left the trailer to Farrell and walked across the property to the office. “What did you guys find?”

  “Nothing yet,” said Neil, “but I think this is where they kept the business stuff.”

  “I’m gonna look for Whitey’s digs,” said Blaine. “He has to live somewhere close.” He set off tromping through the trees following a worn down footpath and came to an old yellow school bus. He stuck his head in the door and it had been made into a makeshift mobile home. Cleaner than Tennessee’s trailer and didn’t stink as bad. He did a quick run through and didn’t find anything useful. Didn’t need much now to arrest their asses, he had two new corpses.

  No sign of the white Nissan. Wonder what they did with it?

  It was another ten minutes before sirens sounded to the south. First response was on the way.

  Austin.

  ANNIE studied the driver’s license pictures that Farrell had sent her while she dressed for the poker room. Nothing guaranteed that the two guys would be there at the club, but it was worth a shot and she and Trav hadn’t played in a big game for a while. Christian Palmer and Davis Benson. Their DL pictures didn’t do much for them. She hoped they weren’t that butt ugly in person.

  Farrell wants me to wait until he’s home. Maybe I should.

  Coastal Backwater.

  SHERIFF ROBLES, the law in Lavaca County, arrived with two squads, a crime scene unit and the county medical examiner.

  Blaine greeted the sheriff with a handshake and offered the large Latino a glance at his creds. “I’m Blaine Blackmore, sir, and I have a double homicide here for y’all.” He told the sheriff all he knew about the rental boys and explained he was there on vacation.

  “Appreciate y’all securing the scene, Ranger Blackmore,” said the sheriff.

  He wasn’t inside Tennessee’s trailer more than a couple of minutes and he was out again standing beside Blaine and Farrell. “That is one unsettling mess in there.”

  “No sign of the weapon,” said Blaine. “We had a quick look around, but that kind of damage I’d bet on a sawed-off.”

  “You could be correct, sir,” said the sheriff. “Up close and personal too.”

  “I think it was personal,” said Farrell. “The woman was Big Dave’s wife.”

  “You don’t say,” said the sheriff. “There’s a solid motive.”

  “If y’all have a handle here,” said Blaine, “I’ll go back to the hospital and secure Dave Warren. I’m sure he’s your killer.”

  “Heard rumors about him in town, but that’s all they were,” said Robles. “Had no formal complaints against him.”

  Seadrift.

  BLAINE AND FARRELL searched the Medical Center and questioned the staff who had attended to Big Dave’s gator bite, and they all said the same thing. Big Dave insisted on leaving as soon as he was stitched and bandaged even though the doctor who had treated him advised against it. The blood loss had been significant, and the doctor wanted to keep Dave overnight.

  “Whitey’s truck is gone,” said Farrell. “We lost the fuckers.”

  “Let’s get a BOLO out on the truck and wants out on both of them,” said Blaine. “Somebody will see them.”

  Blaine leaned on his truck parked in the loop and made the call. As he finished doing that his cell rang and it was Chief Calhoun. “Chief, we’re missing you.”

  “Yeah, we’ll I think all of us are missing you more. I tried my damndest not to call you on your vacay—even though it was forced on y’all—but there is dirty shit happening that you need to know about.”

  “Yeah? I’ve been steering clear of the news figuring that bullshit would make me go home quicker than anything else.”

  “There was a lot on the news,” said the Chief, “and I was hoping you didn’t see it.” The Chief filled him in on Royce. “Catherine is talking to Leighton tomorrow and I don’t know what’s going to happen. Royce is beyond pissed that the Violent Crime team arrested him in front of all the senators and members of the house attending the reception.”

  “Jesus, Chief, why didn’t Jesse call and tell me this shit?”

  “He was trying not to, that’s why.”

  “What time is the meet with Leighton tomorrow?”

  “It’s Saturday, so maybe afternoon. I’ll find out and get back to you.”

  “Okay, we’ll leave here first thing in the morning.” He ended the call and jumped in the truck.

  “What the hell is happening?” asked Farrell.

  “It’s a clusterfuck. We have to go home.”

  Austin.

  ANNIE bought her chips at the cash cage and sat in seat seven, her favorite seat. So far, no sign of either one of Royce’s guys. Maybe they only played poker once in a while and they wouldn’t be back for a month. She had no way of knowing.

  The dealer was excellent, and the game was fast, just the way she liked it. The waitress brought her a Lone Star and she played along, hand after hand, waiting for cards. Travis was at the next table over, but she couldn’t see how big his chip stack was.

  She’d been playing for an hour and had won a couple of big pots when one of Royce’s dudes filled a vacant seat at her table. She tried not to stare, but thought it was Christian Palmer.

  He’d only been there a couple of minutes and already he was asking for the waitress. This could be good.

  Annie peeked at her hand without taking it off the table. A pair of black aces. When it was her turn she put in a big raise—four times the big blind. Christian and one other guy called her.

  The flop came king, king, deuce. A horrible flop for aces. Already she was probably beat by anybody with a king.

  Without hesitating or trying to build the pot, Christian shoved. He’d only bought in for a thousand, so she called.

  I want to lose to him, then he’ll like me.

  “What? You’re calling me, lady?”

  She didn’t like him, but that didn’t matter. “I called.”

  The dealer said, “The lady called you. Flip em up.”

  Christian turned up his king, nine, and Annie turned over her aces.

  The turn card was a four. No good to either one of them. The dealer burned a card and flipped up an ace on the river and Christian went ballistic. He threw his cards and hollered at Annie. “You dumb bitch. Why the hell did you call me?”

  The pit boss was there in seconds asking Christian to vacate his seat and Travis was standing right behind Annie in case she needed him.

  Christian turned and gave the pit boss a shove, then stomped towards the door. A couple minutes later his buddy, Davis Benson cashed out and left the room.

  “Nice hand,” said one of the players. “You took quite a chance.”

  Annie shrugged it off. “I only called him for fun. I didn’t expect to win.”

  Travis stood close by while Annie cashed out her chips.

  As they walked to the truck he whispe
red, “I thought you were trying to be friendly.”

  “I called him thinking I’d lose a big hand to him,” said Annie, “and then he’d talk to me and be my buddy, but the cards were against me.”

  Travis grinned. “That’s what you call a backfire.”

  Annie giggled. They walked out the door into the black of night and headed down the row her truck was parked on. A shot rang out as they neared the Ram and smashed the driver’s side mirror.

  Close.

  Annie reached into her waistband for her Beretta and fired at the flashpoint. Travis was already running towards the shooter.

  Annie ran after Travis, jumped over the guy she had just shot and kept going down the row. The other dude, Davis Benson, was running full out trying to make it to his SUV. He was almost there when new players arrived and drove down the row looking for a parking space. Annie turned and ran back to her truck and heard Benson squeal his tires as he drove away.

  Out of breath, Travis jumped behind the wheel and took off after Benson. “Get Jesse on the phone. He’ll have to clean this up.”

  Annie made the call while Travis drove like a maniac trying to catch up to Benson.

  “Jesse, it’s me. Sorry to wake you.” She explained the situation and Jesse said he’d take care of it. “Where’s the second shooter?”

  Travis turned onto Colorado Street and Annie said, “He’s heading for the mansion, Jesse. I’m on him.”

  “Thanks, Ace. Call me back.”

  “Yep.” As they neared the Governor’s residence, Annie put her earwig in and grabbed her rifle. “Let me out, Travis. Stay on him and tell me where he is.”

  Annie ran across the lawn and around the back of the huge house. She was probably setting off alarms somewhere.

  Travis was talking in her ear as she ran, sticking close to the house. “He circled the block and parked. Out of his truck and jumping fences. Coming your way from the back street.”

  “Roger that.” Anne stood in the shadows close to the back wall of the mansion and waited. Davis Benson cleared his last fence and ran full tilt towards her with a Glock in his hand.

 

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