by Carolina Mac
“Lebron Wallace. Pull up his address and send somebody from Social Services over there. He’s worried about being locked up because he takes care of his mother. He says she’s sick.”
“I’ll do it right away. Do you have more interviews?”
“Starting the second now,” said Jesse. “I’ll check in later.”
“I can make dinner at my place if you’re staying in the city,” said Jamie.
“Might happen that way. I’ve got four more to go.”
BLAINE arrived home tired and starving and couldn’t wait for a Corona and a home cooked meal. The dogs greeted him in the foyer, and he could smell something baking in the oven, but he didn’t see anybody. His stomach growled as he strode through the empty kitchen on his way to the Sub-Zero for a Corona.
“Where is everybody?”
“In here, Beb,” called Misty from the dining room. Cards were spread out and Carm, Lily, Casey and Neil were watching Misty with fascination.
“You guys getting readings?” asked Blaine.
“This is the coolest thing ever,” said Casey. “I never had my fortune told before.”
Misty ain’t a fortune teller.
Carm pointed to the chips and salsa on the sideboard and Blaine hugged her. “You saved me from starvation,” he said in Spanish.
CHAPTER NINE
Tuesday, June 23rd.
LaGrange.
ANNIE cleaned up her huge farmhouse kitchen after breakfast was over. She had tons of work to do in her office and wondered about taking a laptop to the penthouse if she was going there for several days of watching and waiting. She might as well be working on things that needed to be done, both for Powell Corp. and for the Foundation.
Deep in thought she barely noticed her cell ringing in her pocket. “Mrs. Powell, good morning, this is Audrey Hopkins. We spoke yesterday at the condo?”
“Yes, Mrs. Hopkins. What did the owners think of my proposal?”
“They accepted it, dear, although they did set the month’s rent rather high at nine thousand.”
“Nine?”
“Yes, I thought it was steep too.”
How much are you keeping, Mrs. Hopkins?
“I accept, but only if the month’s rent contributes to the purchase price if I decide to keep the penthouse.”
“I’m sure I can arrange that.”
“When can I move in?”
“Anytime. Just pop into my office and pick up the key and drop off the check.”
“I’ll do that this morning,” said Annie. “Thank you for your help, Mrs. Hopkins.”
Her first call was to Jesse.
Giddings.
TIRED FROM his full day of interviewing the day before and then an exhausting romp in the sack with Jamie after a plate of spaghetti, Jesse sank into his chair at the breakfast table with a big sigh. Bigger than he intended.
“You okay?” asked brother Brian in his doctor mode.
“Tired. Only tired,” said Jesse. “Long day yesterday.”
“It would be easier on you if Jamie moved in here,” said Brian, “speaking from a purely medical standpoint.”
“My sex life is a feature in the American Medical Association monthly?” asked Jesse.
Tyler chuckled. “I’d buy a copy of that one and read it… twice.” He punched his brother in the arm.
Jesse drank a glass of juice, put a piece of cornbread on Charity’s highchair tray and reached for the platter of ham and eggs. He almost had it in his hand when his cell rang. He pulled the phone off his belt and checked the screen for unwanted callers.
“Morning, Ace. Nice to hear from you.”
Tyler rolled his eyes and Jesse knew from the look that his younger brother was instantly jealous. Jesse strolled into the foyer to further annoy Tyler. “What’s up?”
“I have a new directive and I rented the penthouse across the street from the target. Just letting you know I’m moving in this morning, so you can proceed accordingly.”
“Is Travis moving in with you?” asked Jesse.
“Yes, we should be settled in by noon. I have it for a month if we need it.”
“Thanks, Ace. Good work.”
Jesse hooked his phone back on his belt, turned to go back to his breakfast and Tyler ran past him heading out the door.
BLAINE barked out orders to the crew at the breakfast meeting. Tired and irritable, he hadn’t been sleeping well and the stress was catching up with him. He took a sip of his coffee and started.
“One: Sue picked up a print from the doorframe outside the Governor’s office. She figures the guy didn’t have gloves on at that point for whatever reason. There were no prints in Cat’s office, other than the norm.” He glanced down at his notepad. “The guy’s name is Pete Dyson. He’s in the system. Small time hood on parole for armed robbery of a liquor store. Lil has the address.” Blaine pointed. “Carlos and Farrell, go get him.”
“Two: Luke and Fletcher stay on Royce. Monitor his movements and keep in touch. Let me know if the library hassles you about parking and I’ll fix it.”
“Three: Whitey’s truck should be in the forensic garage by now. They sent a tow to Robstown yesterday. Farrell check on it when you get to DPS with Mr. Dyson. Jesse will be at headquarters finishing Garza’s punks, so give him Dyson after that.”
Farrell nodded.
“And, bro, while you and Carlos are there, check with Jamie. She’s running stolen vehicles in Robstown. See if she got a hit. Whitey must have picked something up. He ain’t using uber to haul Big Dave’s wounded ass around.”
Blaine waited for the question Farrell asked every day. It was a running joke between them now.
“What are you gonna be doing, boss?”
“I’ll be at the Governor’s office for an hour, then I’ll meet y’all at headquarters when you bring this prick Dyson in.”
THE GOVERNOR’S office had been restored to its former state of perfection by the time Blaine arrived. Everything was in place and the first lady of Texas sat behind her desk dressed in a navy suit and yellow silk blouse. Her red hair was pulled into a neat twist at the back of her head.
“You look better this morning.”
She smiled. “Outwardly.”
“Jell-O on the inside?” He crossed the room, Harley boots clanking and poured coffee into a china cup. “Sue got a print from the doorframe. The boys are bringing a guy in.”
“What’s his name?”
“Pete Dyson. Small time ex-con. Royce probably got him cheap.”
“I don’t know what Royce is going to do next, that’s what’s bothering me. I’m scared all the damn time.”
“He thinks we can’t touch him, but he’s wrong. We’ve got people all over him, Cat. Won’t be long now.”
“I should say something about the shooting at the State hospital.”
“That was aimed at me and I already said it. You won’t be appearing in public for a few days yet.” Blaine finished his first cup and refilled it with a sneer on his lip. “These fancy cups are too fuckin small.”
“I’ll bring you a mug from home and hide it in my bottom drawer.”
“Hey, thanks. That’s a great idea.”
Cat smiled at him and made a note on a post-it.
La Grange.
TYLER crushed speed limits and drove the blue Quantrall truck like a madman to Annie’s ranch. He’d believed her when she said Travis was only her working partner. What had been going on behind his back? Now they were moving in together?
He pounded the steering wheel as he stopped at the Coulter-Ross gate. Jose let him in and he parked by the garage and ran to the house. Not bothering to knock, he tore through the foyer into the kitchen and startled Rosalie who was whipping up cake batter with an electric mixer and didn’t hear him.
“Oh, Mr. Tyler, you scared me.”
“Sorry, Rosie. Where’s Annie?”
“She’s gone to work in the city.”
“Do you know where?”
Rosalie shook her head. �
�No, sorry, I don’t. Why don’t you call her cell?”
“Okay, thanks.” He tore outside to his truck wondering what he should do next.
If I call her and she is working, she’ll be so pissed at me. I want to see what’s going on. How can I find her?
As he drove up the highway towards Austin he called his brother. “Where’s Annie?”
“She’s working, Ty. I don’t want you bothering her.”
“Fuck, bothering. She’s with Travis. I heard you say so.”
“It’s a job, Ty and I don’t want you messing her up like you did with Leggatt.”
“Another one of those jobs? Like I’m supposed to believe that? What the hell is she doing anyway? I hate this.”
“Where are you?” asked Jesse.
“Heading for Austin.”
“Go home, Tyler. I mean it.”
“I ain’t going home. Rosie said Annie was working in the city and I’m gonna find her.”
“Shit, Tyler. You’ve got this all wrong.”
“If you don’t tell me where she is I’m gonna beat your stupid head in. Count on it cause it’s coming.”
“Come to DPS and I’ll tell you.”
“Okay. And you better not be shittin me or I’ll blacken both your fuckin eyes.”
Austin.
JESSE couldn’t help laughing as he ended Tyler’s call. His little brother went crazy wild sometimes and it was always amusing—most of the time. He couldn’t let Tyler mess Ace up on her assignment. It was too important. He’d think of something before Tyler got there. Did he have time to interrogate one of Garza’s boys before Tyler stormed in to headquarters? “Nope. Better wait and straighten Ty out first.”
FARRELL and Carlos headed for the address Lily had given them. The last known whereabouts of Pete Dyson. They ended up on a dead end street near the river. Three brown brick six-storey apartments in a row. Black spray-painted graffiti decorated all of them.
“Which building is it?” asked Farrell.
Carlos looked at the address in his hand. “Number four twenty.”
“The middle one.” Farrell pulled his truck up to the curb. “Hope I have tires when we come out. I’ll turn the strobes on just in case.”
A couple of teenage gangers were leaning on the front of the next building watching him park and Farrell waved them over. “Twenty bucks each if you watch my truck while I’m inside.”
“Sure thing, cowboy cop. Your red ride safe with us.”
Maybe. Maybe not.
The entrance was typical. The buzz-in security didn’t work anymore. The lock had been pried and the inside door didn’t fully close. The square lobby area was filthy and littered with garbage. The stink of it all made hurling a possibility.
Farrell gagged, choked back his breakfast taco and ran up the urine soaked stairs. “How high?”
“Third.” Carlos was right behind him.
On the third floor Carlos pointed left. “Three fifteen.”
They stood on either side of the door and Farrell tapped with the muzzle of his gun. “Police, Mr. Dyson. Need to talk to you.”
A girl not more than eighteen opened the door in a sheer nightie. Nothing to see. Stick thin and body like a twelve-year-old boy. “Pete’s sleeping.”
Farrell pushed past her, and Carlos followed. “I need Pete. Which way?”
“Down the hall. He’s gonna be pissed you wake him up.”
Farrell grinned. “Yeah, let’s see how pissed.”
The bedroom door was open, and Pete Dyson lay naked sprawled across the bed, his eyes shut. He was snoring.
Farrell snapped a cuff on his wrist and Dyson woke up hollering. “Get your fuckin hands off me. I’ll kill all of you.”
With the free cuff in his hand, Farrell jerked Dyson into a sitting position, picked a pair of jeans up off the floor and threw them at him. “Get dressed.”
“I ain’t going anywhere with y’all.”
“Wrong answer. I said get dressed.” Farrell cocked the SW and pointed it at Dyson’s head. “It’s early in the morning. Don’t make me kill you before noon.”
Dyson noted the look in Farrell’s eyes, grabbed hold of the jeans and pulled them on, his right wrist dangling the other cuff. Farrell threw a t-shirt at him and he tugged it over his mop of curly brown hair.
“Do up the cuffs, Carlos. Mr. Dyson don’t look like the trustworthy type.”
Carlos smiled and cuffed Dyson’s hands behind his back.
Farrell pointed to a pair of broken down runners on the floor and Dyson stuck his feet in them.
As Pete Dyson marched to the door he called to the young girl, “Call the number, Pammy.”
“Royce ain’t gonna help you, asshole,” said Farrell, “You’re fuckin toast.”
Dyson’s eyes widened.
JESSE MET Tyler in the lobby of the DPS building and ushered him into one of the interrogation rooms to speak to him privately. Jesse pointed at a chair and said, “Sit down, Ty. We need to talk.”
Tyler paced back and forth in the small room and wouldn’t sit. “I can’t believe Annie. She said we were okay after our last fight and now she does this?”
“Thing is,” said Jesse, “she ain’t doing anything, Tyler. At least nothing to do with you. She’s working on something important and Travis is her backup. Her work is dangerous, and she needs protection.”
“Why can’t she just run her ranch and her store and act normal?”
“She didn’t ask for this job. She was chosen for it by someone and she doesn’t do it all the time. Once in a while, is all—once in a while when… never mind when.” Jesse tapped his finger on the metal desk. “I’m going to tell you this once, Tyler, and I’m not dicking around. I’m dead serious. Annie’s off limits until this is over.”
“What the hell is she doing that’s so goddam important that I can’t see her?”
“Let’s just say she’s saving somebody’s life, okay?”
Tyler stared at Jesse for a moment and nodded his head. “Will you tell her to call me?”
“Of course, I will. She’ll call you. She loves you, Ty. She’s not cheating on you with Travis.”
“How can you be sure?”
“I’m sure.”
I’m pretty sure.
Jesse watched Ty leave through the front door and Farrell came in the back with the new suspect.
“Where do you want him, boss?”
“Room two is good. I was just in there grilling Tyler.” He laughed.
Carlos helped Dyson through the door of the small interrogation room and fastened his cuffs to the table.
“Thanks, boys,” said Jesse. “Get Mr. Dyson a coffee, would you?”
“Sure thing.” said Carlos. “Want one, boss?”
Jesse shook his head and turned on the recorder. He set up the interview and started. “So, Mr. Dyson. You were the one who put the note on the Governor’s desk?” Jesse watched Dyson’s face for a flicker and the guy didn’t give much away.
“What note?”
“The one Senator Royce told you to deliver.”
“Don’t know nothing about it.”
“The way I’ve got it figured is this, somebody on security on Royce’s payroll let you inside the Capitol building. They supplied a key to her office. The only mistake you made was at her door. You touched the doorframe before you put the gloves on.”
“Don’t know what you’re talking about. Honest.”
“Okay, we’re being honest,” said Jesse. “Tell me how your print got on the door frame of Governor Campbell’s office?”
Dyson shrugged. “I have no idea.”
“How much did Royce pay you for delivering the note?”
Dyson stared at his hands.
“Hope it was enough to make up for all the years you’ll be in prison.”
Dyson said nothing.
Carlos returned with the coffee and Jesse stood up. “After Mr. Dyson drinks his coffee, take him to booking.”
“What are we ch
arging him with, boss?”
“Start with B and E and threatening a government official. Have Lil notify his parole officer that Mr. Dyson has breached his parole and is now residing temporarily at DPS. The parole officer can take it from there and send Pete back where he came from.”
“Yep.” Carlos unhooked Dyson and took him to booking.
FARRELL hoofed it out to the forensic garage to see if anything interesting had turned up in Whitey’s truck. “Hey, Glen, are you finished with this one?”
“Just finished but haven’t done the report yet.”
“No matter, we already know the ID’s of the two guys we’re looking for. I just need a hint where they’re going or any other little gem I can work with.”
“Not much in the truck other than the stink of dead fish and blood. Lot of blood soaked into the passenger seat and a pool of it in the foot well on the passenger side. The guy riding on that side had problems.”
“Gator bite,” said Farrell. “Saw it happen.”
Glen screwed up his face. “All those teeth can rip you apart in seconds. Lucky he ain’t dead already.”
On the way back inside, Farrell called Lil at the Agency. “Hey, gorgeous.”
“What do you want, Farrell?” Lil sounded tired.
“Forensics says Big Dave is doing a lot of bleeding from his gator bite. Could you check clinics, hospitals, whatever, starting at Robstown and working out. Also, break-ins to anything medical?”
“Sure, I’ll start on it right away.”
“They’ve had lots of time to get to the border but haven’t made it. Makes me think if the problem is big enough, we might still catch them.”
“Call you as soon as I have something.”
“Thanks.”
He joined Carlos in Jamie’s office to see what she had on stolen vehicles in Robstown.
“I did get one at the Home Depot, and I put a BOLO out on it. A customer reported her Jeep Cherokee missing.” Jamie pushed the information across the desk to Carlos.
“Good job, Jamie. Hope highway patrol spots the bastards soon. According to Glen out back, there is some good news. Big Dave might be bleeding to death.”
LUKE AND FLETCHER sat all morning in the library parking lot, drank coffee and ate a bag of walnut crullers and never heard a sound from Senator Royce’s penthouse.