“When I met you. You were sitting in your truck looking a picture. Is that your ex-girlfriend?”
Randy sighed and nodded.
“I try to forget about her, but then these reminders pop up out of nowhere and sabotage me.”
“So, it was serious?”
Randy nodded his head.
“I thought so. I thought she was the one. Thought she felt the same. Guess I was wrong about that.”
Jade immediately regretted bring up the subject and tried to think of a new topic. But she had let the genie out of the bottle.
“Things were fine and then one day out of the blue she wants to break up,” he continued. “Tells me it wasn’t ‘me.’ She just needed to be alone for a while.”
He laughed to himself.
“Couple of months later, I find out she’s dating this rich, ex-jock from high school.”
“Ouch,” was all Jade could muster.
Things had gotten way too personal way too fast for her liking. But Randy went on, oblivious to Jade’s discomfort.
“You ever gone from thinking you’re the most important person in someone’s life to knowing you don’t even matter? To go from being their one true love—their soulmate—and then see how easy they replace you? It a kick in the nuts.”
Jade looked at Randy and saw tears welling up in his eyes. Realizing she was looking, he quickly pushed the tears back.
“I know what you’re gonna say,” he went on. “It’s her loss. Someday she’ll realize her mistake. Blah blah blah.”
“No. She probably won’t,” Jade replied matter-of-factly.
Randy was slightly stunned by the dose of tough love.
“But who gives a shit? She moved on so you’ve got to move on. And to be honest, sounds like you dodged a bullet.”
Randy snickered and puffed himself up with a moment of self-confidence.
“I treated her real good, you know. I was there for her through all kinds of shit. And then she throws me out like a bag of trash? I deserved better.”
Jade shrugged.
“Who cares what you ‘deserved’? She obviously doesn’t,” Jade said. “Deserved has got nothing to do with it. People don’t always get what they deserve–good or bad. There’s no justice to it. There’s no karma. Life’s a bitch and at some point she’s gonna stab you in the back.”
“Well, you’re a ray of sunshine,” Randy replied.
“You’ve just got to get out of your head,” Jade said. “Get a change of scenery. Go somewhere. Do something different. I bet you’ve lived right here your whole life.”
Randy shrugged. “I lived in Austin during college.”
Jade looked at Randy in shock.
“You went to college?”
“Is that so surprising?” he asked with a smirk.
He passed the bottle to Jade, who took a small sip. She couldn’t afford to get drunk. There was still too much to do.
“So, Austin, huh? What were you in for?” Jade asked.
Randy hesitated before answering.
“I was gonna be an optometrist.”
Jade laughed out loud.
“Seriously? An eye doctor?”
“Why not? It’s the perfect job,” Randy replied, happy to change the subject. “Patients come to see you and you just make them look in machines that tell you all you need to know. If the patient needs glasses, you send ‘em off over to the glasses person. If they have eye problems or need surgery, you send ‘em to an opthalmologist. No muss, no fuss.”
Jade shook her head. “I think there’s a lot more to it than that.”
Randy shrugged.
“It don’t matter anyway.”
“You flunk out?”
“I was on the honor roll, thank you very much.”
“So, what happened?”
“Life,” he answered. “Or death, really."
33
Agent Bennet squeezed his body tight to accommodate the two massive men spilling out of the seats on either side of him. After several hours of stand-by seats that didn’t pan out, he was finally able to catch a flight out of Ronald Reagan Airport. The 737 was crammed with passengers and Dean had been able to wrestle the one empty seat left on the plane. Now wedged between two giants, Dean found his arms pinned helplessly to his side.
I should get my ticket half price for only getting half a seat, he grumbled, as he attempted to maneuver his arms enough to pull out the laptop he had stored in the seat pocket in front of him.
The Goliath in the window seat, engrossed in a romance novel, moved his arm to give Dean just enough room to grab the computer, only to drop it back down and pin the agent’s arms again. Dean tried to slip his other arm free but, even though they had only been in the air ten minutes, the hulk in the aisle seat was already sound asleep.
But while his arms were pinned, he could still move his wrists and hands and Dean struggled to eventually open his laptop, connect to a hotspot and check his email. His efforts were rewarded with a message from Agent Chin. Dean opened the attached excel spreadsheet.
Chin had somehow managed to get the shipping log for PJD, the American import company not so secretly run by Alex Petrov’s organization. While the log didn’t list contents of each shipment, it did include number of boxes and destination. Chin had already done Dean the favor of eliminating all shipments except those going to Texas or surrounding areas in the past two weeks.
Dean began to skim the list, looking for anything unusual. Most of the shipments included a large quantity of boxes. He was hoping to find an anomaly. Something like the single box sent priority to…
“The Lazy Goat?” Dean read aloud. “In Red Dirt, Texas.”
This had to be the one. A single package sent five days ago to a remote location. Dean struggled to open a web browser to find the location of Red Dirt. As he waited for a map to download, he tried to catch the attention of a passing flight attendant by moving his head.
The attendant noticed him and, upon seeing his claustrophobic situation, gave him an apologetic smile.
“I’m so sorry about this,” she said quietly.
“How much longer is the flight?” Dean asked.
The flight attendant winced at the question because she knew he wasn’t going to like the answer.
“About three hours, sir,” she said. “Can I get you anything to drink or something?”
Dean lifted his hands to illustrate what little mobility he had.
“Not unless you have really long straws,” he joked with a smile.
The attendant nodded and offered to help anyway she could, knowing full well there was nothing she could do. Dean nodded and sighed in resignation as she walked away. It was enough to stir the sleeping giant beside him, who shifted his position and leaned in, resting his head on Dean’s shoulder.
34
As the whiskey bottle got lighter, Randy and Jade had taken to sipping what was left so it would last longer.
“So, your dad died and you just gave up everything and came home?” Jade asked in disbelief.
“Didn’t have a choice,” he answered. “Mama was a mess and Clyde ain’t never been good at doing much more than raising hell.”
Jade started to say something but decided against it. Randy smiled.
“I’d already decided I was gonna quit anyway.”
“Too much science?”
“Nah. Just not my thing.”
He twirled the whiskey bottle in front of him to watch the brown liquid spin.
“So what is your thing?”
Randy shook his head.
“You’ll laugh.”
“Try me.”
Randy looked at her, grinning that stupid boyish grin.
“I wanna be a boat captain. Run a deep-sea fishing charter.”
“A boat captain?” Jade asked. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”
The topic energized Randy.
“I’ve got a buddy from college. His family has a charter business in Florida and his fol
ks are retiring. He asked me to partner with him. I don’t even need to invest anything. I can work off my share.”
“Sounds like a dream to me,” Jade said. “What are you still doing here?”
The energy rushed out of Randy like a deflating balloon.
“Mama,” he said.
Jade laughed, but when she looked in his eyes, she realized he wasn’t kidding.
“Oh, shit. You’re serious.”
“I can’t just up and leave her. Especially now that Clyde’s gone. I don’t know if you noticed, but this house is falling apart.”
“And it’s your responsibility to fix it? Who says?” Jade asked. “That’s bullshit. You’ve got one person to look out for in this life. Yourself.”
“You don’t understand,” he said. “My Mama needs me.”
“Trust me, your mother can take care of herself.”
Randy shook his head, not buying it.
“She’d kill me.”
“She’d be fine.”
“Nothing personal, but you don’t seem like the type of person who can be doling out life advice.”
“You don’t know anything about me,” Jade replied.
“Not for lack of trying. I don’t even know your name,” he said. “I’m guessing it’s not Jen.”
Jade suddenly felt an urge to tell him everything. How she grew up all over the world, the child of a military family. How her father died when she was 13 and her mother disappeared in grief. How she struck out on her own as a teenager, resorting to petty theft and, because she was good at it, slowly turning to bigger crimes. How Donovan Fontaine discovered her when she had tried to rob his house, and recognizing her potential, took her in. He became a twisted father figure. A Fagin to her Artful Dodger. How she had worked so hard to hide her identity that she wasn’t even sure if she had one anymore.
But instead, she smiled softly.
“I’m your internet girlfriend who is going to find what I’m looking for and then disappear. And you will never, ever tell anyone why I was here or what I was looking for or I will come back and kill you and your family.”
“How romantic.”
“No one has ever seen me and lived to tell the tale,” she said. “I’m making a big exception here because, for some stupid reason, probably jet lag, I trust you. Don’t make me regret it. I know where you live now.”
Randy laughed nervously but Jade stared at him, unflinching, to make her point. His smile quickly faded away.
“Okay, okay,” Randy said. “I get it. Nothing. Nada. Zilch. Zipped shut. Man, talk about your buzz kill.”
He lifted the bottle to his lips and was disappointed to find it empty. He let it tumble to the ground.
“Welp, I guess happy hour is over,” he groaned. “Just promise me you won’t hurt my truck. She ain’t much, but she’s all I got.”
Jade had almost forgot about driving back to the store. Maybe it was the whiskey or maybe the cool country air, but she felt some of the tightness in her back loosening and she wasn’t sure she was quite ready to let it go.
She leaned back and looked up at the stars.
“I’ll leave in a minute.”
35
The steady, hypnotic nighttime chirping of crickets had been replaced with the busy chatter of morning birds. The sun crept above the distant tree line and obnoxiously directed its golden morning rays on the yellow couch.
Randy snored gently, his head resting on Jade’s shoulder. She slept peacefully into him as well. But they were both yanked out of their slumber when Mama kicked Randy in the shin.
“What the hell are you doing?” she bellowed.
The pair both bolted up, surprised at how close they were to each other. Mama stood over them, wearing a light blue housecoat and sporting giant rollers in her hair.
Randy grabbed his shin. “Dang it, Mama!”
Jade, who wasn’t used to being caught off guard, immediately checked to make sure her gun was still strapped into her ankle holster.
“I don’t know this one from Adam,” the large woman yelled, pointing at Jade. “But I raised you better than this.”
“I didn’t do anything,” Randy protested, rubbing his temples. “I mean, I don’t think…”
Jade’s incredulous glare quickly confirmed that nothing had happened.
“We were just talking and fell asleep,” he explained.
“Well, now you’re burning daylight and I got breakfast cooking,” Mama replied, still yelling. “Today is your brother’s funeral and we got a lot to do. Did you get his suit over to the funeral home? And his shoes?”
“What’s he need shoes for?” Randy asked.
“I don’t know,” Mama snapped. “What does he need a suit for?”
As soon as they started talking about the funeral, Jade’s mind started whirring back to life.
Of course, she thought. Why didn’t I think of it earlier?
“It’s alright, Mama. Just calm down,” Randy said, standing quickly. He immediately regretted it and had to reach behind him to steady himself on the couch arm.
“Don’t you tell me to calm down,” she said, poking her son in the chest.
He wasn’t stable enough to keep his balance and fell back to a sitting position on the couch again
“I’m burying my son today,” Mama yelled. “I will get as riled up as I damn well please. And why are you sitting down again? Get up and help me!”
Randy stood again, looking back at Jade, who was clearly plotting something.
“Lucas is helping me,” Randy said quietly, trying to calm his mother. “He’s the funeral director so I think he knows what he’s doing. You ain’t gotta worry about nothing. I’ve got it under control.”
Suddenly, Mama’s eyes lit up.
“The gawl-darned bacon is burning!”
She turned in a half-run to the house, yelling as she went.
“Pauline, save the bacon!”
Jade stood up.
“Take me to the funeral home,” she said.
“I’m going right after breakfast,” Randy explained.
“Now,” Jade insisted.
Randy nodded, sensing the urgency in Jade’s voice.
“Can I ask why?” Randy asked, already afraid of the answer.
“I can’t believe I didn’t think of it,” Jade answered.
“Think of what?”
Jade ignored the question and beelined it to the truck. Randy struggled to follow, clearly still feeling the effects of the alcohol.
“Did you get his belongings already?” she asked. “After he died?”
“They gave me all his things,” Randy said, slowly catching up to Jade’s thinking. “There weren’t no goats.”
“Maybe it wasn’t ON him,” Jade replied.
Randy froze, worrying that didn’t mean what he thought it meant.
“Let’s go,” Jade yelled, sliding into the truck behind the steering wheel.
Randy walked to the passenger side of his truck, something he had never done before. He yelled out to his mother as he got in.
“Mama, we’re gonna go see Lucas now,” he yelled, the sound of his own voice punctuating his head like a pickaxe.
The truck engine roared and, before Randy could completely shut his door, Jade took off. As they turned and sped down the path, Mama emerged from the house, spatula in hand.
“Randy! Get your butt back here right now!” she yelled.
She fumed as she watched them speed away then spun around and stormed back into the house.
“The boy gets a whiff of female and his brain shuts plum off,” she muttered to herself. “Well, I ain’t gonna let him ruin things.”
She slipped her hand into her housecoat’s pocket.
“I got my good luck charm and it’s all gonna be okay.”
She pulled the small plastic goat figurine from her pocket and kissed it gently, before storming back into the house.
36
Dean pulled the rented Ford Taurus on to Interst
ate 35 away from DFW International Airport. Even though it was the cheapest car available from the rental agency, it was newer - and light years better - than Dean’s own car. It had taken him awhile to figure out how to sync up the car’s GPS with his phone but now he was headed east toward Red Dirt with an arrival time of approximately 10:30 a.m.
It should have been a lot earlier. Dean’s flight had landed on time the night before but had then taxied on the tarmac for over an hour. He had heard about DFW’s reputation for long taxiing times, a regrettable by-product of being such a large airport. But severe weather up the West Coast had created a rash of delayed flights… and unavailable gates.
It had taken him nearly a half hour to reach the car rental agency. It had taken nearly that long for him to get the feeling back in both of his arms after his crammed flight. He couldn’t help but think of the classic joke, I’ve been flying all night…and, boy, are my arms tired.
The car rental agency was another travesty. They had misplaced his reservation and were having a hard time finding a replacement. After about thirty minutes that seemed like two hours, they sent him to a different rental agency where he was able to grab the last car available. In the end, it had cost him an extra three hours of time he did not have.
The Dallas skyline loomed in front of him, as did a sea of red taillights.
Great. I hit Dallas right at peak rush hour.
The GPS offered no alternative routes. All he could do was sit it out and drink the lukewarm coffee he had picked up at the airport.
He had thought about contacting the local FBI office to alert them of his mission but decided against it. For one, he was technically on vacation and if Strickland found out what he was doing, he’d send a team to pull him out before he even reached Red Dirt. This was definitely a case of it being better to ask for forgiveness rather than permission. Besides, the agency was sure to have a tail on Viktor Petrov, so they would all wind up at the same place anyway. Better for the agency to put their resources toward the Russian mob boss and not the rumor of a thief.
The thief.
He wondered if Jade was still in Red Dirt or if she’d already found her contraband and slipped back out. That would be her standard M.O. However, Dean had checked police reports in the area and there had been no reports of unusual robberies. Or murders.
Red Dirt Blues Page 8