by Carolina Mac
While Blaine tried Hilder’s cell Farrell rambled on. “Yep.” Farrell gave his head a nod. “We’ll be next on the witch-man’s list. We better not leave Miss Carmelita alone.”
Blaine raised an eyebrow. “Damn right we won’t.”
Carm glanced up when she heard her name and Blaine didn’t want to scare her, so he said nothing. “Lilita,” she said, and Blaine nodded.
Lily might not be enough against Matthias Rush.
Hilder returned Blaine’s call. “Yes, boss. You were calling?”
“What was the emergency that made you leave Misty’s house?” Blaine was tired, stressed and ready to blow a fuse as he waited for the answer.
“Miss Catherine needed an escort to visit Special Agent Wyman at the hospital.”
Does she have the hots for Hilder? Fuck that.
“She has a whole security team for that, Hilder. Are you out of your mind? You were on a job.”
“I thought the Governor would take priority.”
“Well, you thought wrong and it wasn’t your call to make. We’re trying to catch a goddam murderer. You missed Rush and we could’ve had him. We’re not fuckin Uber, Hilder. You’re working violent crime. Let me rephrase that—you were working violent crime. You’re fired. Pick up your check.”
“Aw, come on, boss.”
“Shut the fuck up, Hilder,” Blaine was pacing and hollering. “You’re goddam toast.”
Farrell listened to the way the conversation was going and fetched his brother a Corona from the Sub-Zero.
Blaine nodded his thanks as he pressed Cat’s private number.
“Hey, sweetie, how’s your day going?”
“My day couldn’t be any fuckin worse, Governor Campbell, and what the hell were you thinking when you called Hilder? You took one of my men off a job to give you a fuckin ride?” He didn’t give Cat a chance to respond. “That’s it, ma’am. We are so done.” He pressed end, picked up the Corona from the corner of the table and chugged the whole thing.
Blaine took a couple of calming breaths. “Okay, let’s think. Has the unit had time to toss Tanya Selecky’s house?”
“Don’t know, boss,” said Farrell, “let me call Sue.”
Farrell walked into the dining room and back and had the answer. “It’s on the list and her place is secure, but they haven’t done it yet. And it’s a condo out by Lady Bird Lake.” He wrote down the address.
“Okay, Travis and Luke spend the afternoon at the condo and see if you can find a link to McLaughlin or the other two dead guys…” Blaine sat down and read from his notes, “Osborne or Scarlett. There might be prints there we can use—we don’t know that yet—so wear gloves when you touch anything.”
Carlos looked up expectantly and Blaine said, “Carlos, go see what the techs are turning up at Misty’s house. Rick could use some support over there. He’s on the edge.”
“Right, boss.”
“What are we doing, bro?” asked Farrell.
“Trying to explain to the Chief how we lost a fugitive and a deputy at the same fuckin moment yesterday. That’s what we’re doing.”
“Fuck,” said Carlos.
“Let’s do it.” Blaine picked up his cell and they all headed out the front door. “Aw, Jesus tell me this ain’t happening.”
A long black limo flying the Lone Star flag was pulling through the gate.
Farrell grinned, winked at his brother and said, “Here we go.”
“Aw, fuck.” Drizzle was falling as Blaine walked from the front porch to the back of the limo and opened the door. He waved to the boys to carry on with their assignments while he spoke to the Governor.
Her eyes were red-rimmed from crying but that didn’t soften Blaine’s resolve. Too many things were going wrong and he was convinced it was because he was too lax with people. Presuming because they were highly trained, they would do their jobs well? Wasn’t happening for him. He had to make changes.
“I’m so sorry, Blaine. Me calling Hilder was a mistake. I don’t know what kind of fuck up that caused, but it must have been major, or you wouldn’t have been so mad at me.”
“The man was an army ranger and he damn well knew better. He left a stake-out and a murdering scum is loose because of it. I fired him.”
Cat nodded her head. “He feels so bad, and so do I for even asking him to take me. I made him lose his job.”
“No, you didn’t. He knew what his job was, and he walked away from it. I can’t have people like that on my team.”
“He called and asked if I could put in a word for him.”
Blaine pounded the side of the limo and Cat jumped. “See. See, that’s it right there. I don’t want anybody on my team that does shit like that. No favors. No ass kissing. Do your fucking job or get the hell out of Dodge.”
“I understand.”
“No, you don’t. If members of my crew don’t do their jobs, people die, Cat. People fuckin die.” Blaine glanced at his watch. “I’ve got to go. Calhoun is waiting for me.”
Ranger Headquarters. Austin.
FARRELL plunked the Starbuck’s tray down on the Chief’s desk and sank down into one of the guest chairs. He flipped the top on his own coffee and took a sip. “Hot. That’s hot.”
Blaine stared at his coffee and didn’t say a word.
“Tell me about the girl,” said the Chief.
“Did you read Fletcher’s statement?” asked Blaine.
“I read it, but couldn’t picture it,” said the Chief. “She couldn’t wait five minutes for back up?”
“Fletcher said she wouldn’t wait,” said Blaine. “He wanted to wait. McLaughlin is wanted for murder and he’s got nothing to lose. Fletch worked corrections—he knows what can happen. Those guys will do anything to get away.”
“Has the notification been done?” asked Calhoun.
“Jesse is doing it now. He’s gone to Corpus Christi.”
The Chief nodded. “Worst part of the job.”
Blaine’s cell jangled, and he checked the caller. “Carlos, what’s up?”
“I’m still at Misty’s boss and the techs will be a while yet, but Rick went back to the hospital because Andy woke up.”
“Fantastic, I’ll go there next. I hope he remembers what happened.”
Tanya Selecky’s Condo. West Austin.
TRAVIS AND LUKE searched diligently through Tanya Selecky’s condo looking for any clue that would tie her to McLaughlin and the other robbers. She’d been the getaway driver and part of the robbery plan, but was she the mastermind or was it McLaughlin? Did Mark Selecky have prior knowledge? That was a question that had to be answered to put him in the clear.
“Wish we had her phone,” said Travis. “Bet she has oodles of texts on there to McLaughlin.”
“He probably threw it in the river when he tossed her in,” said Luke. “Be the sensible thing to do.”
“Maybe there are a lot of emails. Sue has Tanya’s laptop, but she hasn’t got to it yet. Sometimes the wheels turn slow.”
Luke shook his head. “I don’t think McLaughlin was a computer type guy. I think most of his messages were like—in your face.”
Travis chuckled. “Yeah, you could be right.”
“We’ve checked everywhere,” said Luke, “even under her bed and there’s nothing, not even with his initials or anything.”
“You did her bedroom,” said Travis, “did you look under her mattress?”
“I guess I would have if we were looking for money.”
“Let’s do it, then we’re out of here.”
They ran back upstairs and flipped the mattress off Tanya’s bed. About arms-length under the side she slept on was a cell phone.
“Burner,” said Travis. “This could be the one.”
“The boss will be happy to have something. I’ve noticed how he likes hard evidence.”
“You noticed that, eh?”
Saint Michael’s Hospital. Austin.
BLAINE and Farrell joined Rick at Andy’s bedside. H
e’d been moved into a private room after coming out of the coma a few hours earlier.
Rick grinned as he stood up to greet the boys. “It’s all good news,” he said, “Andy is as good as new.”
“Amazing,” said Blaine, “can you remember anything about that night?”
“Not much,” said Andy. Pillows were propped up behind him and he was sitting up straight in the bed and doing a lot of smiling. “The only think I can recall is a weird taste in my mouth and then wham, I couldn’t move. That’s all I remember.”
“What kind of a taste?” asked Blaine. “Bitter, sweet, salty?”
“I’d have to say… more like leaves.”
“Leaves?” Farrell made a face.
“Uh huh,” said Blaine. “Leaves.”
The Blackmore Agency. Austin.
AFTER DINNER Blaine went straight to his office to do research on plants that could paralyze and cause temporary unconsciousness without leaving after effects.
“You gonna be stuck in there all night?” asked Farrell.
“No, give me an hour. Want to go out?”
“I know you’re tired, but I’m thinking you need a break after the past couple of days.”
“Yeah, my stress level is maxed out, that’s a fact. Cat left me ten messages and I’m ignoring them.”
“You should put some space between the two of you. She’s fuckin up our work.”
“I can’t let that happen.”
“I’ll have a Lone Star and check with you in an hour,” said Farrell. He was popping the top on his can when his cell rang.
Kamps was whispering. “I got the address of the guy you’re looking for. Looked like he was bleeding.”
“Where is he?” asked Farrell.
“I ain’t telling you for free, and I want my bonus from Super.”
“Fuck, I’ll pay you—guaranteed. And don’t call Blacky that or he’ll clock you.”
“Bust it or your guy will be gone.”
“Where are you?”
“Three hundred first.”
“Tell me, Kamps. I don’t have time to meet you first.”
“Fuck. I don’t trust cops, but you gotta hurry. Shit. Okay. He’s where the poker game was. Don’t fuck me over.”
“What the fuck? Why would he go back to Selecky’s?”
“How should I know?” Click.
Farrell tore into Blacky’s office hollering. “Kamps has eyes on McLaughlin. Let’s go.”
Mark Selecky’s Estate. West Hills.
BARRELLING through the city at warp speed at dusk with rain pouring down, visibility sucked. Blaine turned the wipers on high and pressed his Harley boot hard onto the gas.
The siren blared and people with any sense got out of the way of the huge black diesel. Farrell held tight to the holy shit bar. “Jesus, bro. Don’t fuckin kill us.”
“Call Travis and Luke and have them meet us.”
“Already called them from the house,” said Farrell.
As they zoomed up the hill to Selecky’s property, Blaine asked, “What does Kamps drive?”
“No clue. Never seen him he wasn’t on foot.”
A cab sat at the bottom of Selecky’s driveway. “There’s your answer. You’re paying for the fuckin cab too. Betcha.”
“Don’t care,” said Blaine. “How much?”
“Three is what he’s asking.”
Blaine stopped the truck, jumped out in the rain and ran to the cab. He grabbed all the bills out of his wallet, held a twenty back for the cab, stuck his arm in the back door and said, “Good work, man. I put your bonus in there.”
Kamps smiled and showed his gold tooth as he counted the five hundred.
Blaine tossed the twenty at the cab driver and ran back to his truck. Farrell had the gate open and was behind the wheel with the engine running.
“I don’t see his truck,” said Farrell as he wheeled up to the front entrance.
“Maybe Kamps was scamming us,” said Blaine. “The thought crossed my mind.”
“Did McLaughlin come back for the money he left behind?” asked Farrell.
“That would be a dickwad move, wouldn’t it?”
Farrell chuckled. “Not for a dickwad.”
Travis drove up the driveway and parked behind them.
“Good, Trav knows the layout,” said Blaine.
“Somebody take the front, but the rear side entrance is closest to the cash cage,” said Travis.
“Luke, take the front and if he blasts out just cut him down. Don’t try to take him.”
“Got it, boss.”
Blaine pointed to a wrought iron bench with a wooden roof over it in one of the flower beds. “Stay dry under there after you do job one.”
“What’s job one?”
“Give us five to get into position, then ring the bell.”
“Got it,” said Luke. He looked at his watch and stood to the side of the entrance.
Travis was at the rear side entrance when they rounded the massive house and passed the pool area. Blaine pointed. “Patio doors. Watch them, Farrell.”
Blaine caught up to Travis as he picked the lock on the side door.
“Hear that?” asked Travis.
“Drilling the safe?”
“I’d say he is. The cops probably closed it up tight when they left the premises.”
They entered the back hall silently. Passed by the security room where the cameras were—nobody manning them. Nobody on the property.
The dogs didn’t bark. Maybe the pound took them.
Travis pointed to the door handle on the outside of the cash cage and shook his head. “Don’t touch it.” He drew his Sig and leaned on the wall. He was staying there.
Blaine nodded and waited for directions.
Travis waved his arm in a circular motion and sent Blacky into the poker room the long way around. He sneaked through the hall, entered the huge room from the back and made his way to the front of the cash cage.
When he got close, Blaine dropped to the carpet and crawled on his hands and knees the rest of the way. He stood up cautiously and peeked over the cash cage counter and there was McLaughlin cleaning out the safe.
“Lie flat on the floor, or I’ll kill you before you turn around.”
McLaughlin laughed as he turned his head and Blaine shot him in the temple. “That’s for Peyton,” he said as McLaughlin’s blood and brains plastered the safe and the wall behind.
“We’re good, Travis,” hollered Blaine. “Call it in and call Luke from the front.”
Travis came running from the back hallway. He peered through the bars of the cash cage. “Jeeze, boss. Nice job.”
Luke and Farrell joined them moments later. “I watched you through the glass doors, boss.” Farrell grinned. “Nice shot through the bars, bro. That was one fucker who needed to die.”
ONCE the crime scene unit arrived, Blaine called Chief Calhoun at home and told him about the tip and the take down.
“Thank God, I can close a couple of cases. Good work, son, and I mean that. I’m glad that one’s out of the way. It’s been a particularly shit week and tomorrow Andreas’ case goes to the Grand Jury.
“They have to indict him,” said Blaine. “How could they not?”
“They will. But I guess I’m dreading the media coverage. It will be insane around the courthouse.”
“Andreas won’t even be there.”
“Won’t matter,” said the Chief. “Don’t have to make sense to make news.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Thursday, April 16th.
Travis County Courthouse. Austin.
THE GUS ANDREAS case wasn’t the only one before the Grand Jury, but it was the one everyone was talking about. Since the murder on campus of Lori Bradburn, the media had fed on every detail. Kidnapping of the witness had been like throwing gasoline on the fire, and even though Blaine tried to downplay the club’s attempt to kill him, reports had been on every channel in the state.
The Grand Jury proceeding
s were closed to the public, but you couldn’t tell that by the courthouse parking lot. There were no spots available when Blaine and Farrell arrived behind Perry Leighton, Austin’s District Attorney.
Blaine urged the big black beast over the curb and parked her on the median, the only spot wide enough for his truck. Leighton had asked him to attend the proceeding in case he was needed, and he was here. He might not be called on, but Leighton was taking no chances on not getting the indictment. This was a high profile case the DA was sure he could win.
The media followed Blaine to the building like a heard of lemmings, shouting questions, running film of his back and being generally annoying. He didn’t stop and didn’t make a comment.
At the entrance to the building, Farrell opened the glass door and shoved his brother in ahead of him. He turned and scanned the surrounding buildings on the alert for a repeat of the hospital attempt. Nothing caught his eye and he followed Blaine inside.
Blaine and Farrell sat on a hard wooden bench in the hallway all morning, bored and wanting a smoke and after all the waiting, their presence wasn’t required.
DA Leighton came out of the room smiling and shook hands with both of them. “Our case is strong. I’m going for the death penalty.”
Outside the courthouse, Leighton stood on the front step and made a speech to the media about how pleased he was with the indictment. “Thanks to the Violent Crime team we have all the evidence we need to send Mr. Andreas and several of his colleagues to death row in Huntsville.”
The crowd hollered and cheered, and there was such an uproar, Blaine didn’t even hear the gun go off. The glass behind him shattered, people screamed and ran, and Farrell shoved Blaine behind a statue of Colonel Travis.
“See anything?” asked Blaine.
“Nope.”
“What angle?”
“To the right and up.” Farrell turned his head, thought he saw movement in a tree across the road and he ran.
The shooter was young and inexperienced and had no exit strategy in mind except for jumping out of the tree and running.
Farrell arrived, a little out of breath, as the kid was on the bottom branch ready to jump. He drew his SW and hollered, “Drop the rifle. Get down on the ground. Hands behind your head. Do it now.”