Mystere

by Carolina Mac

  “Okay, thanks. I’ll wake Farrell up.” Blaine pressed end, stumbled out of bed in the dark and stepped on Lexi’s tail. She jumped up yelping and ran for the door. “Sorry girl, I can’t see shit.” By the time he opened his bedroom door, Farrell was facing him.

  “What’s all the racket?”

  “I stepped on Lex.”

  “Aw.” Farrell dropped to his knees and hugged the big Newfie. “Did that asshole step on your tail?” Lexi licked Farrell’s face.

  “We gotta go to Round Rock. They had a body left over from the rodeo yesterday.”

  “No, shit,” said Farrell. “It was peaceful when Pablo and I were there.”

  “Maybe it was a peaceful killing. Get dressed and call Pablo and Travis. I’ll make coffee and let the dogs out.”

  “Hoodoo slept on my bed,” said Farrell. “He’s missing Misty.”

  “Don’t get me started on that,” said Blaine. “I thought it was her calling when it was the Chief.”

  Round Rock.

  THE ROUND ROCK fairgrounds were soup. Dressed in rain gear with their hats pulled low over their eyes, Blaine and the team joined two uniformed officers and two detectives from Round Rock homicide at the end of the bleachers. They all watched the local medical examiner do up the zipper over a mud coated corpse.

  “Cause of death, sir?” asked Blaine. He wasn’t familiar with the staff of the Round Rock PD.

  “Exsanguination. Throat cut wide open.”

  “Any sign of the knife?” asked Farrell.

  “Negative,” said one of the detectives. “No weapon found, and the victim has no ID.”

  “They killed him for his wallet?” asked Pablo.

  “Looks that way,” said Farrell, “or somebody is trying to make it look like a robbery.”

  Blaine sloshed around in the muck peering under the bleachers. “Footprints are history,” he mumbled. “The ground is slop under there.”

  “Crime scene people haven’t got a hope in hell,” said Farrell.

  “Where was the next stop for the rodeo?” Travis asked.

  “Believe they headed up to Georgetown,” said one of the uniforms. “They’d all cleared out late last night when I drove by on my way home. Guess the only one left behind was the dead guy.”

  “The rodeo will be indoors in the arena tonight,” said one of the detectives. “Be a little dryer than here.”

  “Maybe the gun show people won’t be that lucky,” said Farrell. “Their tents might be a little damp.”

  “Guess we’ll head up there next,” said Blaine. “I’ll be in touch with y’all’s chief later today.”

  Quantrall Ranch. Giddings.

  JESSE tiptoed out of Charity’s room and settled on the king size bed next door in his own room to start the book Jan had given him at his last appointment. He had no intentions of quitting smoking, but he said he’d read the book and he never went back on his word. Never.

  Only that one time in Sante Fe that ruined his life.

  Letting that thought enter his head made his heart pound. He checked the monitor he was compelled to wear and tried to slow his breathing. All his bad moments had to do with Annie. No way he could deny it. Maybe Brian was right and severing all ties was the right way to go.

  Hard to sever all ties with the one you love most in the world.

  He finished the introduction on the first page and his cell rang. He grabbed it quickly on the first ring, so it wouldn’t wake the baby. “Quantrall.”

  “I’m calling cause Blacky’s driving,” said Farrell. “Bringing you up to speed on the case we’re working on.” He gave Jesse all the details they had so far. “We’re on our way north to Georgetown now.”

  “I’ll get copies of everything Round Rock has,” said Jesse, “and go over all of it. Talk to y’all later.”

  “Yeah, boss. Stay out of this fuckin weather.”

  Jesse glanced at his window and couldn’t see anything but torrents of rain. “I better send Ty and Paulie to check the cattle pasturing in the field with the pond.”

  Georgetown.

  AFTER CATCHING JESSE up, Farrell relayed the information he got from Kamps at the bar the night before. “I’ve got the address of the guy’s estate. I just haven’t had time to look it up yet. I was going to do it this morning, but we’re here instead.

  “Kamps doesn’t know who’s planning the heist?” asked Travis.

  “Not yet, but I pressed him on it,” said Farrell. “He said he’d try hard to find out.”

  “We’ll get on it as soon as we finish here in Georgetown,” said Blaine. “We should have brought two vehicles.”

  THE ARENA was almost deserted at ten in the morning. A few cowboys feeding their stock and maintenance people cleaning up from whatever event had taken place the night before were the only ones around.

  “Let’s hit the manager’s office,” said Blaine, “then we’ll split up and talk to as many people as we can who were at the Round Rock show.”

  “Can we get coffee?” asked Farrell looking longingly at the snack bar that was closed up tight.”

  “You go get coffee for everybody at the closest spot, bro, and bring donuts or something. I’m fuckin starving.”

  Farrell gave Blaine a thumbs up and turned to leave when somebody hollered his name. “Hey, Farrell.”

  “Rowdy,” Farrell hollered back at the slim cowboy, “how are you, buddy?”

  Rowdy Butler came running across the arena kicking up dirt behind him. “I’m okay. I’m still living on y’all’s ranch out in Laredo. I talk to Annie all the time about the cattle.”

  “Nice to see you,” Blaine stuck out his hand. “We’re here on a case.”

  “Something to do with the rodeo?” asked Rowdy.

  “Not sure,” said Blaine. “Y’all left a corpse with no ID behind in Round Rock.”

  “We did?” Rowdy raised an eyebrow. “Where was he found?”

  “In the mud under the bleachers.”

  “Huh. Never heard a thing about it.”

  “You know any of the gun or knife vendors that are following the rodeo tour?”

  Rowdy shook his head. “No. Those guys started showing up last week when we were in Bryan. Just setting up shop and taking advantage of the crowd we were drawing.”

  “They got a leader or an organizer or like that?” asked Blaine.

  “Maybe a guy named ‘Buster’. I heard a few guys give a shout out for him, but I don’t know which one he is.”

  “Hey, thanks for your help,” said Blaine. “How’s the calf roping going?”

  “Good.” Rowdy grinned. “I’m points leader. Wish…”

  “Yeah, I wish that too.” Blaine grabbed him in a hug.

  “While you’re this close, you come stay with Mom,” said Farrell. “She’ll be pissed if she don’t get to see you.”

  “I will. I called her already about bringing Jacks to one of our shows.”

  Farrell introduced Rowdy to Pablo and they shook hands.

  “I’ll go see if I can find the manager,” said Blaine, “you guys circulate and question all the cowboys. Try to find out where the gun people are hanging out in the rain.”

  Farrell nodded. “Yeah, they got to be holed up somewhere around here.”

  He took Blacky’s keys and went to get the coffee. Looking for a Dunkin Donuts or a Starbucks, he also looked for cheap low end motels close to the arena. He spotted a mom and pop motel about a half mile away and the parking lot was full of vans and pickups. “There they are.”

  He cruised through McD’s and picked up large coffees and a bagful of breakfast sandwiches—two each, then drove back to the arena.

  Blaine was standing near the front door waiting for him. “Manager won’t be in until noon.”

  “Good. We’ve got something else to do. I found the gun people and we need to question them.” He handed Blacky the bag of food. “Breakfast sandwiches, where are Pablo and Trav?”

  Sweet Dreams Motel. Georgetown.

  BL
AINE ROUNDED the boys up and they ate in the truck on the way to the motel. Not so convenient, but it was dry.

  “Yep, this could be the place,” said Blaine. He put his coffee container into the cup holder. “Good eye, bro.”

  “Hey, that’s what you pay me for, my huge brain. I’m always thinking.”

  Travis snorted in the back seat.

  Blaine parked in front of the ‘No Vacancy’ sign. “Okay, we need names that we can run through the system. Before we scare anybody off, take down all the tag numbers while I’m in the office.”

  The bell jangled when Blaine opened the door to the tiny motel office. “Help you, sir?” asked a chubby gray-haired lady in a green dress. She set her knitting aside and turned to face Blaine.

  “Yes, I hope you can.” Blaine laid his credentials on the counter in front of her.

  She eyed them carefully, then looked at him again, comparing him to his picture. “You’re a Texas Ranger?”

  “Yes, ma’am and I see y’all are full up right now.”

  She smiled. “Doesn’t happen too often, but the rodeo is in town and we’re close to the arena.”

  “I need a list of the people that checked in last night.”

  She raised a penciled eyebrow. “Is that legal?”

  Blaine shrugged. “I’m with the police and I’m investigating a crime. I think that gives you some leeway.”

  “You don’t look like the police, son. You look like one of those gang kids.”

  Blaine nodded, “Yes, ma’am. I’m with Violent Crime.”

  The lady leaned closer and whispered, “Are you undercover?”

  Blaine nodded, “Don’t tell anybody.”

  “I won’t.” She printed off the list. Twenty people in five rooms, under five different names.

  “Thank you, ma’am. I appreciate it.”

  “Is there going to be shooting in any of my rooms?”

  “I don’t think so. I’m only asking a few questions. No shooting.”

  “Good. I hate filling those bullet holes in the walls.”

  Blaine joined the boys in the truck.

  “What did you get, boss?” asked Travis. “We got all the plates. Want any of them tagged?”

  “Let me check which room Buster is in.”

  “That might not be his real name,” said Pablo. “Sounds like a nickname.”

  “Yeah,” Blaine looked at all the registrations. “No Buster.”

  “Okay, each take a room, then we’ll flip for the last one. Pablo take 104, Trav 105, Farrell 106, and I’ll do 107. Whoever gets done first starts on 108. Just to let y’all know, they are registered as four people in each room but there might be more if they’re tight on funds.”

  “Fuck that,” said Farrell giving Blaine a thumbs down. “We should do this in pairs. It would take longer, but so many in each room—we hit the jackpot and bingo—we’re dead.”

  “Right, I wasn’t thinking—I fuckin can’t think with Misty missing. She’s my every waking thought. I have to go to New Orleans—like yesterday.”

  “Start over,” said Farrell. “Pablo and I will take 104. You and Trav take 105 and we’ll move on down the line.”

  “Right,” said Blaine. “Go.”

  FARRELL and Pablo stood under the overhang out of the rain and Farrell knocked on room 104.

  The door swung open and a young girl with a long dark pony tail stared at them. “Yes?”

  Farrell held up his creds. “Police ma’am. I wonder if we could ask you and your group a few questions about your time at Round Rock yesterday?”

  “How do y’all know we was at Round Rock?”

  “We’re from the police, ma’am. We know stuff like that.”

  Pablo smiled.

  “What do you want to know?” She stepped back, and Farrell and Pablo stepped inside the door.

  “A man was killed last night at Round Rock and I need all your names and addresses.” Farrell pointed at a guy with a big beer gut and a gray beard. “Let’s start with you, sir.” To Pablo: “Write everything down.”

  BLAINE AND TRAVIS stood in front of room 105. Travis knocked, and nobody answered until the third time and Travis was banging hard with his fists by then.

  “What the hell do you want? We’re trying to sleep in here.”

  Blaine held up his creds. “Police, sir. We’d like to ask you a few questions.”

  “Well fuck that. I don’t feel like answering a few questions. I don’t feel like answering one.” He tried to shut the door and Travis put his back into it and shoved the door and the guy back into the room.

  Blaine drew his Beretta and said, “Everybody sit down and shut up. We’ll ask our questions and then we’ll leave. Anybody not willing to answer questions here can answer them at DPS.”

  “I ain’t going to no Texas Ranger cowboy jail, so fire your questions at me,” said a tall, skinny guy with a black pony tail. The silver chain around his neck was so thick it looked to be weighing him down.

  “Okay, we’ll start with you, sir,” said Blaine. “Give Deputy Bristol your name and address.”

  “Warren Dillinger, and I live in Longview. We all do.”

  “And y’all are weapon’s vendors following the rodeo tour, have I got that right?” asked Blaine.

  “Yep,” said Dillinger. “Nothing illegal about it. We got permits n’all.”

  “I’m sure you have,” said Blaine. “What time did you pull out of Round Rock last night after the rodeo was over?”

  Dillinger looked at a tall, dark-skinned woman with a shaved head and multiple piercings in her face. “Eleven-thirty, I’d say.”

  “Did any of y’all hear anything going on near the bleachers? Like an argument, or two men fighting? Anything like that?”

  “Near the outdoor seats, you mean?” asked a short guy with a half-smoked cigar in his mouth.

  “Uh huh. At the north end of the seats.”

  “Nope. Don’t think so. Why are you asking these questions, Ranger?”

  “A man was found dead this morning under the seats, and we’re talking to everybody who was at the rodeo in Round Rock.”

  “That’s gonna be a helluva lot of people,” said Dillinger. “Before it started raining there were hundreds of people there.”

  Travis took down all the names and addresses and they moved on to the next room.

  FARRELL AND PABLO moved onto 106 and although it was only shortly after twelve noon, the three guys and two girls in that room were drunk and smoking up. Both beds were unmade, and the room was littered with pizza boxes and beer cans.

  The two girls gave Pablo their names and addresses with no fuss, but two out of the three guys were mean drunks and bent on giving Farrell a hard time. A big mistake on their part.

  “I ain’t answering no questions, and I want you to get the hell out of my room,” hollered the youngest guy. Farrell figured the guy to be about the same age as he was—almost twenty-four. The guy was so drunk he couldn’t stand up on his own.

  “What’s his name?” Pablo asked one of the girls and she started to say it.

  “Don’t tell them my name, bitch.” He lunged for the girl, tripped and planted his face in the threadbare green carpet.

  “You better put your buddy to bed,” said Pablo. “Just tell me his name and give me his address.”

  The guy who’d been sitting quietly at the table in the corner of the room stood up and ambled over towards them. He was over six feet tall with big hands and feet. He had the size to be a decent scrapper, but he looked soft around the middle. “We’re done here now. No more names and no more questions. Get out of my room.”

  “That’s not going to happen, sir,” said Farrell, “not until we’re finished what we came for.”

  “You’ll be finished as soon as I throw both of you out.”

  Pablo smiled, and Farrell knew his partner was ready.

  The big guy gave Pablo a push backwards with the heel of his hand in the middle of Pablo’s chest. Quick as lightning, Pablo
grabbed the wrist, spun the guy around, swept his leg and was kneeling on the guy’s back cuffing him.

  Farrell grinned. “Who’s next?”

  The rest of the customers spewed out their names and addresses without protest.

  “Put him in the back seat of the truck,” said Farrell. “Stay with him. I’ll help the boss finish up.”

  Ranger Headquarters. Austin.

  THE BLACKMORE CREW arrived at DPS, tired, soggy and a little out of sorts after their morning spent trying to squeeze information out of the tight-lipped weapon’s vendors. An unruly and uncooperative bunch to say the least.

  Always in a foul mood when he dealt with jerks, Blacky stomped into the Chief’s office and splashed down into one of the guest chairs.

  “I can see that didn’t go too well,” said Calhoun. “Any ID on the victim yet?”

  Blaine shook his head and water flew off the ends of his long black hair. “Pablo’s booking a guy who assaulted him. Could be an inroad for us.”

  The Chief smiled. “Pablo gonna be a good one?”

  “Yeah, I think so. Farrell said his reactions are lightning fast.”

  “Hope I get to see him in action,” said the Chief.

  “Keep the dude overnight and I’ll call Jesse to come talk to him in the morning before his arraignment.”

  Calhoun wrote it down. “Yep. What else?”

  “Got names, addresses and tag numbers for Lil to run. We should come up with a few with jackets or at least fake ID. They’re a sleazy bunch. It’ll keep Jesse busy down the hall for a couple of days.”

  “I like it when he’s in the house,” said the Chief. “He’s getting better isn’t he?”

  “Yep, he’s a lot stronger following the plan this new doctor has him on. She’s putting him through the paces.”

  Quantrall Ranch. Giddings.

  JESSE called Jan’s cell and she answered on the first ring.

  “Doctor Wagner.”

  “Didn’t you see my number?”

  “Sorry, wasn’t looking, Jesse, I was walking down the hall to my office.”

  “I finished the book this morning and I’m doing it.”

  “Fantastic. I wish you success. You’ll feel the difference, I’m sure of it.”