Cat

by Carolina Mac

  Annie watched him sleep for a while, admiring the ink all over his upper body. He had some of the most beautiful artwork she’d ever seen, and she wondered who’d done the work. She used the bathroom and got dressed.

  He opened his eyes and smiled at her. “That was a workout.”

  Governor’s Mansion. Austin.

  BLAINE gave his jacket to Emily, one of the housekeepers when he arrived at the mansion.

  “Lovely to see you, Mr. Blackmore.”

  Cat opened the French doors and came out of the sitting room smiling. She hugged him. “I’m glad you came over. I’m lonely here, even though the house is full of staff and security. Not used to it yet, I guess.”

  “A week and you’ll be fine.”

  “You sound sure, and I hope you’re right. Is this a social call or something else?”

  “Let’s eat lunch first.”

  “Damn it. It’s not good,” Cat said in a whisper.

  “Could be worse. Got a beer for me?”

  “Corona?”

  “Uh huh. Thanks.”

  “I put it on my personal shopping list.” She leaned close and whispered. “There are people on staff who go out and shop.”

  “I don’t shop. I have Carm and Lily.”

  “You’re spoiled.”

  The table was set in the dining room and as soon as they were seated, the staff served lunch.

  Cat picked at her food while she drank two glasses of red wine. “Go ahead and tell me, sweetie.”

  Blaine pushed his empty plate away. “I searched Reg’s computer this morning—the one at my firm.”

  “And what did you find? You’re scaring me.”

  “He was still married, Cat. His wife lives in Dallas and the two of them were in a property battle. He needed a lot of money to pay the settlement her lawyer was asking for, and without the money, Reg couldn’t make the divorce happen.”

  She blew out a long breath. “He got killed because of me.”

  “No.” Blaine reached for her hand. “He got himself killed because he tried to take a shortcut. He stole money from one of his clients or someone he knew to speed things up. Not your fault.”

  Cat picked up her napkin and dabbed at her eyes. “Do you know yet who he stole it from?”

  “I’m waiting on lab results.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Monday, January 26th.

  Ranger Headquarters. Austin.

  BLAINE sat in Chief Calhoun’s office drinking coffee while Farrell went downstairs to see what the lab had come up with on the recovered money, and also on the thugs he’d capped at Barton Creek.

  “See my e-mail on Bromwell’s next of kin?” asked Blaine. “On New Year’s Eve, Reg asked Cat to marry him, but he was still married.”

  “Jesus,” said the Chief. “In a way, it’s better for her that he is dead. What a mess that would have been for a brand new Governor.”

  “Yeah, wouldn’t it?” Blaine took a sip of his coffee.

  “What’s taking Farrell so long,” said the Chief.

  “Sue has a thing for Farrell,” said Blaine. “She might be doing him in the lab.”

  The Chief was laughing and couldn’t stop when Farrell opened the door.

  “What’s funny?”

  “Blacky’s telling me jokes.”

  “Blacky don’t know any jokes,” said Farrell. “He’s saying stuff about me. What?”

  “I said Sue was doing you next to the evaporator, that’s all.”

  Farrell pointed a finger and nodded. “Close.”

  The Chief was red in the face from laughing.

  “She wants me bad… terrible bad,” said Farrell. “It’s making her twitch.”

  “Give her what she wants,” said Blaine and winked at the Chief.

  “Fuck you.” Farrell sat down and opened his notebook. “Money has been counted. Seven hundred and fifty thou in the duffel. Unmarked bills and clean.”

  “What about the guys you capped?”

  “Punks out of Houston. All have sheets but no known affiliation.”

  “For hire,” said Blaine. He read the names and they meant nothing to him. “I’ll see what I can dig up. I was hoping for a link.”

  “What about Bromwell’s client list at Powell and Associates?” asked the Chief. “He had to steal the money from someone he was familiar with, and he was a tax attorney.”

  “I couldn’t find anything, and believe me, I looked thoroughly,” said Blaine. “I’m stuck.”

  “How we gonna get unstuck, bro?” asked Farrell.

  Blaine shrugged.

  What if Misty touched the money?

  Riverwalk Hotel. San Antonio.

  ANNIE and Jack had breakfast sent up to their room.

  “What’s on the agenda for today, Miss Portia Ross?” asked Jack.

  “I’m hoping Langois will go to the clubhouse and spill his guts about the guns and we can all go home,” said Annie.

  “That would be the best case scenario, so that will be the last thing that happens today.” Jack laughed and reached for another pack of jam. “Has the Dog texted you this morning?”

  “Nope. Maybe he dumped me.” She giggled.

  “No chance of that now that…never mind.”

  “Now that I slept with him?” The ice in Annie’s voice fairly crackled.

  “I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

  “No, Jack, you shouldn’t. I’ve got enough problems without my bodyguard questioning how I do my fuckin job.”

  “I apologize.”

  “I accept. I can’t afford to be on edge when I’m with him. Second guessing myself could get me killed.”

  Jack nodded. “I said sorry.”

  Annie got up from the table and paced. “Men are all the same, and you’re no different, Special Agent Prima. That’s why I’m so fuckin good at what I do. I rely heavily on the predictability of the male sex drive.” She steamed into the ensuite and slammed the door.

  San Antonio Mall.

  DOUGIE was out of bed, showered and dressed before eight. His day usually started later than nine because the boss was groggy after a high and never mobile early in the day. Shaky had a handle on the morning business and had texted Dougie to pick up a drug order at the truck stop on the interstate and deliver it to the clubhouse.

  He set the security alarm on the way out the door, walked around and opened the garage door to start his ride. Took three tries and even then, his baby chugged and didn’t want to run smoothly. He’d take her into the Harley shop later and get the kinks worked out.

  He made his pickup and delivery with no problem, left the clubhouse and stopped off at a jewelry store in the mall. He wanted to get her something. But what? He’d never bought a woman anything in his whole miserable life. Up to this point he considered it a waste of time and money.

  He bought a coffee, sat at a round table in the food court and texted. “Meet me for lunch?”

  “Where?”

  “I heard Bohanan’s is classy.”

  “Nope. Too fancy.”

  Dougie smiled. “She thinks it’s too expensive for me.”

  “How about Lone Star?”

  “Perfect. What time?”

  “Noon. Where do you live?”

  “I’m in a hotel right now. Not sure if I’m staying.”

  “I want you to stay.”

  “Why is she staying in a hotel?” he asked his coffee cup. “Does she have business in San Antonio? What kind of business?”

  Dougie was uneasy as he walked into the jewelry store and peered into the glass displays.

  “Help you, sir?” asked a woman.

  Without looking up, he said. “I’ll look around first.”

  “Go ahead,” she said. “Call me when you’re ready.”

  He found what he was looking for, called the woman over and pointed at it. He paid cash and had it gift wrapped. He slipped the box into the pocket of his jacket and headed for Lone Star.

  Why is she staying in a hotel?


  Parking Area behind the Governor’s Mansion.

  BLAINE was in his truck when Annie called from San Antonio. “Hey, baby, I miss you.”

  “Miss you too Mom, how are you doing with the club?”

  “Dougie is asking me things like where I live in San Antonio. I told him I was staying in a hotel because I wasn’t sure I was staying. Now I’m sure I’ve made him nervous.”

  “Tell him you have antique stores and you’re on a buying trip. Go to an auction and take him with you. That should make it feel solid.”

  “Fantastic. I’ll look up a local auction right now before I meet him for lunch.”

  “Does the guy eat lunch? I thought he ate people for breakfast.”

  “Funny. He’s nice, and I’m trying not to like him.”

  “Shit, you already do. I can hear it in your voice.”

  Lone Star Restaurant. San Antonio.

  AT LONE STAR, Annie drove by Dougie’s bike and parked her truck farther down the same row. There was a cold January wind today and not bike riding weather for her. She loved riding her Harley, but she didn’t enjoy freezing to death while doing it.

  She saw him from the hostess station, went straight in and sat down. He had a beer waiting for her. “Thank you for the beer.”

  “No problem. I’m getting to know you a little. Not as much as I’d like, but a little.”

  “Same. I’m getting a read on you now and then, but it takes time to get to know a person.”

  Dougie looked up then focused on her with an odd look on his face. He wasn’t smiling.

  “What?”

  “Why don’t you tell me what you’re really doing here in San Antonio before we go any further.”

  Annie smiled. “You made Jack. Good one.”

  “Who’s Jack?”

  “My bodyguard. Nothing personal between us. He’s my bodyguard. Period.”

  Dougie’s dark eyes flashed. “And why in hell would you need a bodyguard?”

  “Because I do. I deal in antiques and sometimes I carry a lot of money. Some auction houses don’t take credit if they don’t know you.”

  “And if you’re a big time antique dealer, why are you riding around on a Softail and hanging with bikers?”

  “Hey, I can’t help my past and I can’t shake it. I am who I am, even if I try to rise above it.” The anger in her voice was genuine. She hated being looked down on because of her past, even by people lower than her. She walked.

  DOUGIE got up from the table, tossed a bill down to cover the beer and hurried out after her. He’d really pissed her off with all his questions. He was lucky she didn’t fuckin clock him.

  He caught up as she was getting into her truck. “I’m sorry. Come back and I won’t ask so many fuckin questions.”

  “Fuck off.” She slammed the door of the truck, revved it up and squealed out of the parking lot.

  He stood and watched the bodyguard jump into a rental Jeep and try to catch up.

  That guy has a job.

  The Rule Clubhouse. San Antonio.

  FLETCH AND GREG had been sitting on their asses in the junk truck for three days waiting for any kind of scrap from the clubhouse and so far, nothing. They could see the gate from where they were positioned behind one of the other industrial buildings, and witnessed a convoy of six bikes going in.

  “Something is going on,” said Greg looking through the binocs. “A half dozen of them there now.”

  “Hope this is it,” said Fletch. “A lot of waiting.”

  Greg laughed. “Surveillance is ninety-nine percent waiting for one percent information.”

  “Terrible odds,” said Fletch.

  Greg put the audio on speaker and a lot of noise came through before the crowd settled inside the clubhouse.

  “Get me a beer.”

  “Did you see what Dougie brought to the party?”

  “Course I saw her, and I don’t want Dougie distracted by a woman. He’s a loner and that’s how he operates best. Never had a woman in his life and I don’t want him losing focus. Specially now while we got such a huge commitment.”

  “I get it, boss. You want her for yourself.”

  “Damn right I do. Did you get a look at that body?”

  “How you gonna get her away from the Dog?”

  “Give him an order. He’ll hand her over.”

  “And if that doesn’t work?”

  “I got other irons in the fire.”

  Greg called Jack’s cell. “We got a problem, Jack. Langois wants Annie for himself and he’s gonna put pressure on Dougie the Dog.”

  “Dissention might be good for us. That’s what Annie was going for.”

  “She’s going to be in more danger. Prepare her.”

  “I will. I’ll do it right away.”

  “Important meeting tonight at nine. I want every goddam member here.”

  “I’ll tell everybody, boss.”

  “Tonight, at nine,” said Fletch. “Should I tell Blaine?”

  Riverwalk Hotel. San Antonio.

  ANNIE laid on her bed in the hotel and waited for room service to send up the steak sandwiches she’d ordered. “I didn’t get to eat at Lone Star, Jackie, and neither did you.”

  “Trouble in paradise, princess?”

  “Fuck off.”

  “He made me, didn’t he? The fight was my fault.”

  “Mostly your fault, but he was nervous that I didn’t live in San Antonio, although I don’t know what message he got from that information.”

  Jack’s cell rang, and Greg relayed the message from the surveillance unit.

  “Okay, bad news from Greg. He just heard Langois say he wanted you for his own and he was going to order Dougie to hand you over.”

  “Fuck that. Never happen.”

  A tap on the door and Annie received the food from the waiter. She tipped him and took the tray.

  “Let’s have lunch. I need to think.”

  Her cell sat on the table next to her and she watched for a text from Dougie.

  Am I disappointed that he’s not texting? Yeah, I guess so.

  After eating half her lunch, she took a nap in case there was action later in the day. When she woke there was a missed message.

  “Dinner?”

  “No thanks.”

  “Is he still on your trail?” asked Jack.

  “I said ‘no thanks.”

  Jack nodded. “Good girl.” His cell rang, he listened, and a stressed look crossed his face.

  “What now?” Annie took a bite of her cold sandwich.

  “After all the bikers left except two—Langois and Goldsmith, they talked in private about a deal the two of them were putting together with the B team.”

  Annie jumped up and hollered, “That scum is gonna give him up. How much? What are they paying for Dougie?”

  “A million in coke.”

  “I’m taking Langois out.” Annie shoved an arm in her jacket.

  “No, Annie,” Jack hollered. “You can’t until we know about the guns.”

  She ran into the bathroom, slammed the door and hurled her lunch.

  East Cesar Chavez. Austin.

  BLAINE was on his way home when Special Agent Kramer from the ATF called. “Agent Kramer, any progress?”

  “Not much, how about you?”

  “Some. I have people in place. I should have something for y’all tomorrow morning.”

  “I know these things take time, but I lost a couple friends in the shootout at the border, so I guess I’m a bit impatient.”

  “As soon as I have anything solid, you will hear from me.”

  “Thanks, Ranger Blackmore.”

  Riverwalk Hotel. San Antonio.

  ANNIE changed her clothes, grabbed her jacket and her purse and headed for the door without even giving Jack a glance.

  “Going out?”

  “Doing what I always do when I’m about to lose my mind.”

  “May I inquire what that is?” Jack asked politely.

  �
��Play poker.”

  Jack picked up his jacket and his gun and followed her out. “Do we have to take separate vehicles?”

  “Why would we? He already made you.”

  “Rub that in, why don’t you?” Jack chuckled.

  “I’ll drive,” said Annie as she slid behind the wheel.

  “Good, because I don’t know where we’re going.”

  “I looked it up. Poker club not far from here.”

  The Rule Clubhouse. San Antonio.

  FLETCH YAWNED and stretched.

  “After the meeting we can go to the hotel and get some sleep,” said Greg.

  “I could use some,” said Fletcher, “and some food too.”

  “Yeah, a steak would be nice, wouldn’t it?”

  The gavel banged down in Greg’s ear and he put the audio on speaker.

  “We’re getting another shipment tomorrow. This one’s going to cross at Reynosa and the trucks are gonna come up route two eighty-one.”

  “What time are they crossing, boss?”

  “Early, around dawn. We’ll hand over the cash and exchange the trailers at a rest area just north of Rivertown an hour later. Clear sailing after that.”

  “Who’s driving the empty trucks to do the exchange?”

  “Two teams: Palmer and Laverty, Corru and Gerritsen.”

  “Any escort, boss?”

  “Yep, the escort will be Goldsmith, Acosta, Campos, Gallo, Oliver and Robles.”

  “See the VP for your orders.”

  The Blackmore Agency. Austin.

  BLAINE had settled in the front parlor with Carm and Misty to watch one more renovation on HGTV when his cell rang. He took the call in the kitchen and was spared from watching the reveal. “Got something, Greg?”

  “At last.” He filled Blaine in on everything they’d heard.

  “Okay. The ideal place to take them down would be the rest area. Let’s aim for that. We’ll get set up before dawn and wait for the meet to take place.”

  “You coming down, boss?”

  “Leaving right now with Farrell.”

  “Where am I going?” Farrell stood in front of the Sub-Zero in his boxers getting a last beer before sacking out.

  “San Antone. Leaving in five.”

  “Do I have time to zip up my fuckin jeans?”