by Carolina Mac
“Okay, I’m on my way,” said Blaine. “Get your earwig on and keep talking. What do y’all see?”
“Marshall’s parking near the Great Walk. He’s sitting in his car right now like he’s waiting for somebody.”
“I’ll be there in a couple of minutes,” said Blaine, “Is he still in the car?”
“He’s getting out now and walking over to where all the statues are,” said Luke.
“The Tejano Monument?” asked Blaine.
“Guess so,” said Luke. “Marshall is lighting up a smoke and waiting there by the big brass cows.”
Capitol Grounds. Austin.
“BRONZE,” said Blaine. “I’m parking two over from y’all.” Blaine shut down the big diesel and as he glanced through the front windshield he was just in time to see Marshall drop to the ground. He didn’t hear the shot and didn’t have a direction, but he was out of his truck and running. Couldn’t see anybody and never caught a muzzle flash. Not a goddam thing.
The boys were out of the Ford unit and running. Fletcher was hollering in his ear that he had the sniper and Blaine still hadn’t seen him. He bastard must have been on the far side of the surveillance truck.
“Luke, get an ambulance and stay with Marshall. I’m gonna help Fletcher.” As he ran, Blaine put in a call for all squads in the area to block off the streets around the Capitol.
Fletcher was yelling into his headset as he ran. “Going into a boot store, boss. Across Eleventh. Other side.”
“I see it,” hollered Blaine. Out of breath and giving it all he had, he wasn’t in good shape like Fletch, that was obvious. Fletch was running full out and still had enough wind to talk into the headset. Huh.
Blaine ran in the front door of the boot store and people were scrambling. One lady waved the boot in her hand and hollered, “They went out the back door.” Blaine heard a scream and by the time he made it all the way through the long narrow store, the sniper was trying to force a young woman into a Honda Civic. Probably her own car.
Sirens ripped through the air and squads were all around them. Fletch hollered. “They’ve got him blocked in, boss.”
The sniper saw the squads at both ends of the alley and realized the car was useless to him. He grabbed the girl again, dragged her out of the car and held her up like a shield in front of him. He backed away towards the side door of the store across the alley, dragging the screaming girl with the muzzle of a Glock tight to her neck.
With a loud thunk, Fletcher bounced something off the big blue dumpster down the alley. The sniper turned his head and in that one second, Blaine got the shot. He fired.
Bang.
The sniper and the girl landed on the concrete in one heap of blood, brains and tissue. Fletcher was there in an instant and picked the girl up out of the tangled mess. She was covered from the waist up in the sniper’s blood and tissue.
Fletch held her as she screamed and cried. “You’re okay. He’s dead. You’re okay.”
She fainted in his arms and he carried her to the ambulance that was waiting at the end of the alley. “She fainted,” he said to one of the waiting paramedics. “That blood ain’t hers.”
“We’ll take care of her.” The young medic took the girl and his partner helped get her onto a stretcher.
“Good job,” said one of the uniforms. “That was some shot, the boss took.”
“He’s deadly,” said Fletch with a grin. “No room for error on that one.”
“Couldn’t fuckin believe it,” said the uni, “and I saw it with my own eyes.”
“SITUATION, Chief,” said Blaine. He explained what had happened to Marshall and gave a quick recap of the takedown.
“Be there in ten with Mort.”
Blaine lit up a smoke and tried to stand as far away from the stinking dumpster as he could while he waited for the Chief. His phone jangled, and it was the Cat. “What’s up, Cat?”
“You tell me,” said the Governor. “There’s fifty media trucks down front by the monument.”
“Sniper shot Doyle Marshall.”
“Aw, shit. Why are they laying the bodies on my doorstep?”
“No clue. I’m looking at a body that ain’t on your doorstep.”
“Did you get the shooter?”
“Uh huh. Waiting on Mort and the Chief.”
“Should I come over there?”
“If you do, you might have to talk to the media.”
“No, I won’t. I can stand beside you while you do it.”
“That’s cheating.”
“Tell me what I should do,” said Cat.
“As soon as we get the body out of the alley, I’ll call you and you can meet me down front at the monument. It will make a great backdrop for you.”
“Okay, that gives me a few minutes to redo my makeup.”
“Yeah, me too.”
ON THE WAY across the street to the Tejano Monument, Blaine called the hospital to check on Marshall and found out he had died on the way to Saint Michael’s. His wife would have to be notified in Dallas. The Chief would send someone.
Blaine turned to Luke and Fletcher. “Y’all go up to Cat’s office and escort her out here. Keep an eye out in case there are any more crazies lurking around.”
“Yeah, boss,” said Luke. “We can go get number one.”
The media were all ganged up in front of the Capitol grounds with camera crews shooting the blood-soaked spot where Doyle Marshall had dropped. Who knew what kind of bullshit they were making up to go along with the pictures?
The media didn’t know he was coming to talk to them, so it would be a surprise—pleasant or unpleasant—he didn’t give a flying fuck which it was.
One reporter looked up and surprise registered on his face, but he didn’t hesitate to fire off a question. “Ranger Blackmore, can you tell us what went on with the shooting earlier?”
“I’m waiting for someone to join me, then I’m gonna give it to y’all straight up.”
A couple of the reporters smiled. “Jeeze, Ranger B. A gift from the gods.”
“Who’s joining you?” asked one of the female talking heads.
“Someone y’all know. My boys went to get her.”
Blaine smoked and leaned on one of the big rocks that was part of the landscaping and it wasn’t long until Luke and Fletcher arrived with the Governor.
“Okay, here she is,” said Blaine, “Let’s roll. Stand next to me, Governor Campbell.”
Cameras rolled, and the questions started. Blaine held up a hand. “No questions. I’ll tell you what I know, then y’all will have to wait for more details later. Best I can do.”
“Who was the victim, Ranger B.?”
Blaine pointed an accusatory finger at the reporter. “What did I just say?”
Cat grinned a Cheshire grin.
“Next of kin has not been notified. The victim was a Caucasian male. He was gunned down by a sniper shooting from…” He looked to Fletcher. “Where was he, Fletch?”
Fletcher pointed, and cameras clicked off pictures. “In that tree to the left of the walkway.”
Blaine continued. “Fletch saw him jump out of the tree and chased him down. The chase led across Eleventh, through a store and into an alley at the back of the store. During the sniper’s run through the store, he took a female hostage. Thanks to Austin PD, a dozen units helped me out and blocked off his egress. We had him trapped behind the store and he refused to give up.”
“Refused to give up?” hollered one reporter. “Does that translate into you shot him?”
“He had a gun to a hostage’s head, sir. A young female’s life was hanging in the balance. What would you suggest?”
The reporter nodded.
Blaine was pissed and turned to Cat. “Governor Campbell, do you have anything to add?”
“Of course,” she said with a smile, “I always have something to add.”
They all laughed. She was popular with the media.
“I want to thank the Violent Crime Squad fo
r their prompt action in bringing a volatile situation to an immediate resolution. They saved the hostage’s life and at the same time, brought the murderer down.”
“What is your stand on tighter gun controls, ma’am?” asked one of the female reporters.
“I have a bill in committee and I’ll have more to say about it in a couple of weeks.”
“Was McLean Cornish killed because he worked for the supporters of that bill?”
Cat looked to Blaine for an answer.
“We are extremely close to arresting the person who killed Mr. Cornish,” said Blaine. “That’s all I can tell you until the case is over. Mary will have more to say about it at that time.”
“Will Miss Polito have a press release for us with more details on today’s murder?”
“Yes, she will. I’ll be speaking with her in a couple of hours. Watch your email.”
Ranger Headquarters. Austin.
FARRELL waited until Heather Bunch’s partner was fully awake before he went down to the infirmary to question him. He’d had surgery to remove the bullet from his leg before he was transferred to the infirmary and the anesthetic hadn’t worn off the first time Farrell had made the trip to check on him.
The guy Heather Bunch called Frank was scruffy looking and old enough to be her father. Maybe he was her father. Heather was twenty-nine according to her jacket. This asshole could easily be forty-eight or nine or better. Yeah, it was possible.
“Hey, Frank, how’s it going today?” Farrell had the recorder on in case Frank spit out anything useful.
Frank stared at him with cloudy looking brown eyes and didn’t answer.
“Why’d you take the Quantrall baby?”
“For money. Why else would we take her? Dumb question.”
“Yeah, well I’m full of dumb questions, and I’m gonna lay a bunch of them on you right now.”
“I don’t feel like talking.”
“Too bad. I do.” Farrell leaned on the railing. “Heather said you made her do it. You said you’d kill her if she didn’t get the nanny job and take the baby.”
“What a liar. Shut the fuck up, you cowboy cop.”
“Maybe you’re both liars. Like father, like daughter.”
He shrugged it off.
She’s his daughter.
“What made y’all decide to target the Quantralls?”
“Why not? Quantrall Oil. Those boys have lots of extra cash. Assholes like them don’t even know how much they do have, and we needed money more than most.”
“Lots of folks work for their money,” said Farrell.
“I can’t always work because I have asthma.”
“I hear ya, Frank. You need a free ride.” Farrell leaned in closer. “I’d like a free ride too, but I would never take money from a woman. That’s a bit, what would you say? Unmanly?”
“Fuck off and die, cowboy. Let me sleep.”
“When you get to Huntsville, you can sleep morning till night for the rest of your life, Frank. Your daughter can too, although you won’t be seeing her ever again. She’ll be in the women’s prison.”
“Heather’s getting us a good lawyer and we won’t be going to Huntsville.”
“How’s she paying this crackerjack lawyer for y’all, Frank?”
He shrugged.
Wonder if she ripped stuff off at Quantrall?
Farrell left Frank chained to his bed and went up to the Chief’s office.
“Anything?” asked Calhoun.
“I think he’s her daddy,” said Farrell. “Has the unit had time to toss her last known address?”
“Let me see,” the Chief typed in a few keystrokes. “Not yet, but they’ve secured it. A rowhouse in the East Cesar area.”
“Frank thinks they can afford a lofty defense lawyer.”
The Chief raised an eyebrow. “Oh, yeah? How?”
“Made me wonder if she ripped off stuff at Jesse’s ranch,” said Farrell. “Petty thievery and rubber checks account for a lot of her arrests along with several long cons.”
“Oh, shit, yeah,” said the Chief. “She was living in the Quantrall mansion. That could have happened.”
“I’ll talk to Tyler,” said Farrell. “See if any of the brothers are missing anything valuable.”
The Blackmore Agency. Austin.
BLAINE opened a Corona when he got back to the Agency. It had been a busy day. Now Doyle Marshall was dead, and all signs were pointing to Leggatt.
Luke and Farrell came in for a beer before they went home, and they were on the same wave length. “Why aren’t we picking up Paul Leggatt if he was the one Marshall was meeting? Wouldn’t he be the number one suspect?”
“Sure, would be,” said Blaine, not knowing how to make it sound plausible, “but somebody else is on Leggatt. It ain’t us.”
“What do you mean by that, boss?” asked Luke. “If we’re on Cornish’s murder, why wouldn’t we be on his killer?”
“You would wonder that, wouldn’t you?”
Luke wasn’t letting it go. “You mean like the feds took it from us when we had it down and dirty?”
Blaine nodded. “Or someone higher than the feds.”
“Who the hell would that be?” asked Fletcher.
Windsor Park Area. Austin.
LAURA MAY drove slowly by the address of the next name on her list. She saw the wheelchair ramp and wondered about it but kept going. This was only a drive by to see if she could pursue her agenda alone. Her mission wasn’t one she could give up easily. She’d spent her whole life lending books and then getting them back from the readers and restocking the shelves. What else was there? The library was her life.
There’s a light on in that shack back in the trees. I’ve got to ask for food. I can’t go any farther. My backpack is so heavy, I have to set it down and rest for a minute. What’s that noise? Something is coming. It’s growling. I can’t run…
CHAPTER TEN
Wednesday, June 3rd.
The Blackmore Agency. Austin.
AT THE MORNING meeting the boys were still pumped from the previous day’s action. The dogs had settled down after the first round of arrivals, then offered up a resounding round of barking when Mary arrived. She was dressed for work in a cream suit, her leather briefcase under her arm.
“Coffee, Mary?” Farrell jumped up to get her a mug.
“Thanks, Farrell, after fighting my way through that downtown traffic, I could use a coffee.”
“Okay, we’re all here,” said Blaine. “Let’s get organized. First—the ‘Maybe Murders’ are nowhere. We have to get a start on those two. Anybody have a thought on those?”
Travis shrugged. “It’s like we’re waiting for the murderer to make a mistake and leave us something, boss. So far nothing in either of the victim’s lives. We’ve checked work, school, neighbors and got zip. In no way were the victims connected to each other. We checked that too. They were both quiet people with no enemies.”
“Yep,” said Blaine. “I hear ya, but we have to keep trying and the only fuckin thing we have is the book. Luke and Fletcher will be doing paperwork on yesterday’s takedown of the sniper, so they’ll be at DPS. Clear it with the Chief, then sign the book out of evidence and bring it home for Misty. It’s all we have.”
“Sounds like a good idea, boss,” said Luke. “Miss Misty might give us a direction.”
Blaine’s cell rang, and he glanced at the screen. “Oh, shit.” He picked it up and said, “Morning, Cat, que pasa?”
“Penny just informed me that the gun control people are staging a rally where Doyle Marshall was killed yesterday. They’re going to be out in front of the monument on the sidewalk.”
“Fuck,” hollered Blaine. “Prime targets for the gunnies.”
“What should I do?”
“Do not go near them. Do you hear what I’m saying?”
“Uh huh. Okay.”
“I’m sending Carlos and Farrell.”
“Penny said the permit allows them to be there from
nine until four.”
“Nine till four. Got it. The boys are leaving now.”
Carlos stood up. “Where am I going, boss?”
Blaine ended the call and walked over to refill his coffee. “You and Farrell are watchdogs on the picketers. They’re gonna do their hollering in front of the Tejano monument starting in….” he checked the Cartier on his wrist, “half an hour.”
“Let’s go,” said Farrell. “Let’s see how much they care about gun control when somebody has to shoot to save their fuckin lives.”
“Amen,” said Lily. She’d been quietly taking notes all through the meeting.
With Luke and Fletch dispatched to headquarters, and Carlos and Farrell off to the Capitol that left Blaine, Travis, Mary and Lily. And Carm in the background cleaning up after breakfast.
“Lil, Farrell said Heather Bunch’s partner hinted that they could afford a high-priced attorney. Check with the boys at Quantrall and have them look around and see if she ripped them off while she was living there. Farrell said her address hasn’t been tossed yet and if she did filch a bunch of valuables, it might help if we knew what we were looking for.”
“Uh huh.” Lil headed for her office.
“Mary and I are writing up an email for the media, then I’m going to see Jesse in the hospital in La Grange before I check on the protesters,” said Blaine.
Travis grinned. “And I’m just drinking coffee?”
“You are until your date picks you up. Take a refill onto the porch and have a smoke.”
“Sure thing, boss.”
Coulter-Ross Ranch. La Grange.
ANNIE cleaned up the kitchen after breakfast and tried to organize the plan in her head. How would she get Paul Leggatt if he rarely if ever left his ranch? The story around Austin was Paul Leggatt was a wealthy rancher who since his last divorce was rarely seen in public. According to the rumors Annie had heard in Appaloosa circles, Leggatt had become a recluse. That was the skinny on the wind and it might be true. Most rumors had at least a tiny molecule of fact behind them.
As she put on her makeup and brushed her hair, she tried to put the fight with Tyler out of her mind. When she mentioned she had a meeting with Travis this morning, Ty went ballistic. Still unglued from the kidnapping, Tyler was an emotional wreck—she’d give him that—but she had a job to do and Travis was a big part of it. He was her safety. She’d always worked alone, but once Blaine found out what she was doing and for whom, things had changed. Now she had a safety.