by Carolina Mac
CHAPTER FIVE
Friday, September 28th.
The Blackmore Agency. Austin.
THE RINGING wouldn’t stop in his dream. Blaine woke, and his cell was screeching on the nightstand beside his head. “Jesus, it’s fuckin dark. What time is it?”
“Three-thirty,” said Misty in her sleepy Louisiana drawl.
“Blackmore.” Blaine tried not to grunt into the phone as the stiffness in his back cut through him like a sabre. He sat on the side of the bed, his bare right foot touching Lexi’s tail. “Yeah, Chief.”
“Under the bridge where I-35 passes over East Seventh.”
“Got it. Is the scene secure?”
“Yep. Highway boys have it.”
Blaine staggered out of bed, pulled on his tattered jeans and limped across the hall into Farrell’s room. “Another body under the bridge. We gotta go.”
“I’m tired.”
“You ain’t alone.”
I-35 and East Seventh Street.
“NICE FAT BOY,” said Farrell as they stared down at the fallen biker. “This guy’s an Angel. Might be trouble if he’s high up.”
“Maybe they’ll do our job for us,” said Blaine. “Save us the bother.”
“Could happen.”
“Anything, Doc?” Blaine squatted down beside Mort Simon as he took the temperature of the corpse.
“Dead since around midnight or one a.m., I’d guess. Highway spotted him an hour ago or so.”
“Think it’s the same shooter?”
“Carbon copy.”
“Here’s his ID,” said Tim. “You guys doing the notification?”
“Right after we get some coffee,” said Farrell. “Thank somebody up there for stopping the fuckin rain.”
“I second that,” said Tim. “It’s been a bitch of a week.”
South Lamar Area. Austin.
AFTER a Starbuck’s drive-through, Blaine drove to the address on Brick Pilgrim’s license. “Who the hell calls their baby Brick?” asked Farrell. “Stupid name.”
“Better than one brick short,” mumbled Blaine. “This looks like it. Can you see the number?”
“No outside light. If anybody’s home, they’re sleeping.”
“Guess they’ll wake up when we ring the bell and tell them their kid is dead.”
“You’re in a good mood.” Farrell pressed the bell and they waited. Nothing. “Maybe he lives here alone. Not a big place.”
“These row houses are narrow,” said Blaine. “Let’s see if any of the boys are still at the clubhouse.”
“Yeah, that should be fun,” said Farrell, “before breakfast.”
East Riverside. Austin.
BLAINE CRUISED the last place he’d remembered the Angels hanging out down by the river. The outside light was on and a few bikes were parked in a neat row.
“This a chop-shop?” asked Farrell.
“Could be.” Blaine opened the door without knocking and cruised on inside. “Hey, guys.”
“We got us a middle of the night visit from the Super cop,” said a big biker without a shirt. He was lifting weights in the corner of the room. Another guy sat on a stool at a little semi-circular bar smoking a joint, a couple of Shiners’ bottles in front of him.
“What are you looking for, Super? We don’t got any.”
“One of your guys named,” he read it from the license, “Brick Pilgrim?”
“VP. What he do?”
“Got himself dead. Sniper bullet in the head.”
The big guy set the weight down and sat upright on the bench. “No fuckin way. That can’t be right.”
“One of you gents want to ID the body in the morning? Appreciate it. We couldn’t find anybody home at his address.”
“He lives by himself. Working on a hot new romance, so he said.”
“Next of kin?” asked Blaine.
“Don’t know of any. Might have some folks.”
“Sorry for your loss,” said Farrell.
“Shit, this is bad. I don’t know if I’m believing y’all or not.”
“Check him out at the morgue in the morning,” said Blaine. “It’ll seem more real. If you hear any rumors on who the sniper is, call my cell.” He tossed a handful of cards on the table.
“What morgue are we talking, Super?”
“Ranger headquarters.”
“I know it,” said one of the other guys. “Where’s the Fat Boy?”
“Impound.”
“I’ll come in the morning,” said the guy on the weight bench. “Brick was my VP for chrissake.”
“Sorry guys,” said Blaine as they left.
“Think they’ll cause trouble?” asked Farrell as he piled into the truck.
“Maybe if they stir something up, we might get lucky,” said Blaine. “Otherwise, all random like it is, we’re going nowhere any time soon.”
The Blackmore Agency. Austin.
BLAINE SHOWERED and changed his clothes before breakfast. He wanted to go back to bed but didn’t have time to waste on sleep. He downed a couple of eggs Carm made him and an apple cinnamon muffin and wasn’t even halfway done his second coffee when the crew came through the door reporting for work.
“Luke and Fletch, y’all are on Leigh Kryssa. Take the unit and first chance you get make sure we can hear what’s going on in her life. Otherwise, follow her and write down everywhere she goes.”
“She the brains behind the hit on Madill?” asked Luke.
“I’m betting on it,” said Blaine. “She’s still broken up about her husband getting beat to death in Huntsville and that gives her a better motive than anybody else we’ve got. I’m going downtown to talk to Madill and see if he can remember the case.”
“What else, boss?” asked Carlos. He filled a mug at the counter and carried it back to the table.
“We had another sniper victim last night.” Blaine filled them in on the details. “Third one in three days, but the rain has stopped, if that means anything. Carlos and Farrell will go to ballistics and see what’s up with the gun then bring the Chief up to date and get some of the paperwork out of the way.”
Lee Memorial Hospital. Giddings.
TYLER drove Jesse to the hospital to bring Marnie home. Jesse wasn’t nearly ready to drive on his own or to help someone else who was barely mobile.
A nurse wheeled Marnie out to the truck and with the help of an orderly they placed her in the front seat of the truck.
“You okay?” asked Jesse before he closed the door.
Marnie smiled and said nothing. She was a tough one.
Jesse struggled getting himself into the back seat and they were off, heading up seventy-seven towards the ranch.
“I took Charity with me to Coulter-Ross,” said Tyler. “Sarah is there, and it will be easier for y’all for a few days.”
“Thanks, bro,” said Jesse. “She’s happy there with the kids and she won’t miss us too much.”
“Jesse hired us a nurse,” said Marnie, “but I don’t think we need her. We can manage.”
“Doc told you about your back,” said Jesse. “Those injuries have to be watched, kept clean and the bandages changed often. How you gonna do that behind your back?”
“We could have had a homecare nurse come once a day,” said Marnie. “I believe I mentioned that.”
Tyler smiled.
“You did, but we can afford a nurse for at least a week before we go broke,” said Jesse. “When the money gets tight we’ll let her go.”
Tyler winked at his brother in the rearview.
Office of the Attorney General for Texas. Austin.
BLAINE had called ahead and reserved a half hour at noon with Brad Madill promising to bring lunch if he could have a short meeting. He arrived with a huge bag from Whataburger and dumped out the contents on Madill’s coffee table in the seating area.
Travis picked up a burger and unwrapped it. “I love these. Did you get the onion rings?”
“Keep digging,” said Blaine.
> Brad sat down and unwrapped a burger. “I haven’t had one of these in a while.”
“Good for you,” said Blaine. “Boosts up your carbs.”
Brad smiled. “Sitting behind a desk, I don’t need more carbs, but today I’ll make an exception. What did you want to talk about?”
“I want you to think back to the Edward Kryssa case. Armed robbery when you were a prosecutor. You got a conviction and then Kryssa was beaten to death in Huntsville.”
“I remember that because when Kryssa died the media coverage was huge. The sad part was, the witness who made a positive ID on Kryssa changed her mind a few months later when she saw a wanted poster in the post office. She came forward and said she’d made a mistake and for sure it was this other guy who’d done a whole rash of convenience store rip offs.”
“Okay, good,” said Blaine. “I’m happy you can remember the details. Let’s keep that time period fresh in your mind for a few minutes. Try to think if during that time you had occasion to talk to Dustin or Milo Carpenter or Ginette Romley.”
“Was there anything in the file?” asked Madill.
Blaine shook his head. “No mention of any of them.”
“Is the witness still alive?” asked Travis between bites, “or did she get knocked off for making a mistake?”
“That’s a damn good question, Trav,” said Blaine. “I’ll have Lil pull up everything on her. We’ve got to connect to those three stooges sitting in holding.”
Charlene tapped on the door and stuck her head in. “Your next appointment is here, Mr. Madill.”
“Five minutes, Charlene. Thank you.” Brad picked up a napkin and wiped his mouth.
Blaine picked up all the wrappers and containers and stuffed them into the bag. “We’re out of here, but now that the case is on your mind, call me with even the slightest thing you happen to recall.”
“Yes, I will.” Brad smiled. “And thanks for the carbs.”
Ranger Headquarters. Austin.
FARRELL and Carlos wrote up a bunch of reports on the sniper deaths then headed to ballistics to check on the slugs.
“Yep, the first two were definitely from the same rifle,” said Sam in the ballistics’ lab. “Autopsy on the new guy won’t be until tomorrow. Mort is backed up, but as soon as I know if we have three matching, I’ll give you a call.”
“Maybe the sniper will take a break now that the rain has stopped,” said Carlos.
“Yeah, three dead bikers in three days is enough for now,” said Farrell. “I’ve got some feelers out. You busy later tonight?”
“We going to a less popular bar to hang out?”
“I believe we are.”
Carlos gave him a fist bump.
Garrison Park Area. Austin.
LUKE AND FLETCHER parked down the block from Leigh Kryssa’s house. They could see her blue front door and the entire driveway from where they sat under a big maple tree.
“The first thing we need to do is tag her ride,” said Fletch. “Then if she gets away from us we’ll be able to find her. No sweat.”
“Can she see the driveway from her front window?” Luke leaned over and peered through the windshield. He couldn’t tell from his angle.
“I don’t think so,” said Fletch. “The garage sticks out a bit ahead of the house and cuts off her line of sight.”
“Okay,” said Luke, “I’ll stroll casually up the street and do the car. We’ll worry about the house as soon as she leaves.”
The Blackmore Agency. Austin.
BLAINE got back from Madill’s office, grabbed a coffee and dove deep into the transcript of Edward Kryssa’s trial looking for all the info he could find on the eye witness.
A woman named Jennifer Larimer swore that Edward Kryssa was the man who robbed the liquor store. She must have looked through mug shots or been shown a six pack by the robbery detectives on the case. It doesn’t say anything about a lineup. Why was she shown Kryssa’s picture? Did he have a mug shot on file? Must have.
Blaine dug deeper and found the old mug. Edward or Ted Kryssa had been arrested years before for jacking a Camaro and taking it for a joyride. Kid stuff. He was never an armed robber. Why would they use his picture? Didn’t make sense.
Coming at it from a different angle—the one Travis had mentioned—Jennifer Larimer might have been knocked off already. Blaine Googled the woman specifically searching for an obit and he found one in the Statesman. Yep, she was dead. Dead and buried. Now he needed that file.
A half hour of digging and a refill on his coffee and he had it. Hit and run. Needed a copy of the police report. When, where and what kind of car killed her?
He found the report. Driver was unknown. She was run down late at night in a Walmart parking lot. A witness thought it was an army green Jeep, but it was dark, and he couldn’t be positive of make or model.
What were the Carpenter brothers driving during that period of time?
He had to find out.
Garrison Park Area. Austin.
“I HAVE TO PISS,” said Fletcher.
“Too much coffee,” said Luke. “You can’t go now. She’s coming out.”
“She’s all dressed up,” said Fletcher. “Wonder where she’s going?”
“Boss said she sells real estate,” said Luke. “That much we know. Going to show a house or going to her office.”
“Let her go,” said Fletch. “I’ll do the house fast and we’ll catch up. Is the tag working on the car?”
“Yep, seems to be. Wait until she goes around the corner before you get out of the truck.”
“I’ll go in the back way and use her bathroom while I’m in there.”
Luke grinned.
Fletch came running down the street and jumped in the truck. “We’re all good in there for later. Let’s see where the lady is going.”
Office of the Attorney General for Texas. Austin.
TRAVIS moved into the outer office every time Brad Madill had a meeting with some bureaucrat or other. He and Charlene were becoming fast friends chatting and joking, but only when the waiting room was empty.
When each new appointment arrived, Travis checked their ID and relieved them of their weapons, if they had any. Most were attorneys and seemed surprised they were being questioned. A couple were pissed off. None of them were carrying so far.
Better safe than sorry.
Blackmore Agency. Austin.
BLAINE was wading through vehicle ownership archives when Annie called. “Hey, Mom, I could use a break from this shit I’m doing. What’s up? Are things back to normal with Tyler?”
“Yep. He’s home and Charity is here for the week while Jesse and Marnie are broken. Our little family is back together.”
“Good. I don’t like seeing you sad.”
“Anything new on Madill? I don’t like calling Travis because Madill is right there with him.”
“Today, I have made progress. I’m zeroing in on a woman named Leigh Kryssa. I think she is behind the shooting at Cat’s reception. I’m trying to link her to the Carpenter brothers and Ginette Romley.”
“Anything I can do to help?”
“She sells real estate for RealtyTex and it would be helpful if you went into the office and became familiar with her and her habits. You might pick up a phone call or a word. All I need is a connection. I’m working on something, but if it comes down to it, you might need info on her anyway.”
“Yeah, I might if she’s the one and she moves on Madill. I’ll call and make an appointment for this afternoon.” Annie giggled. “What kind of a house am I looking for?”
“Umm…a big house that you could renovate into an antique store. Mill Antiques three.”
“Okay. Good one. I’ll call now. Thanks, baby.”
“Love you, Mom.”
Blaine ended the call and tried Luke. “Luke, about Mrs. Kryssa, I’m putting Annie in as a potential real estate client, so don’t be shocked when you see her come to the office this afternoon. Are you there now?”
“House and car ready?”
“You bet.”
“We’ll have her cold soon.”
“Copy that, boss.”
RealtyTex. Northside. Austin.
ANNIE arrived at two o’clock for her appointment with Leigh Kryssa. The receptionist at the front desk showed her down the short hallway and into the office second from the end.
“Mrs. Quantrall is here, Leigh.”
“Fantastic.” Leigh stepped out from behind her desk and shook Annie’s hand. “I’m so pleased you called, Mrs. Quantrall. I’m sure we can find what you’re looking for.” She pointed to the chair in front of her desk. “Before we start, would you like a coffee or a cold drink?”
“A Coke if it’s no trouble,” said Annie. As soon as Leigh was out of sight, Annie slipped the tag under the desk.
Leigh returned all smiles with a can of Coke and a napkin from the lunchroom. “Can you tell me who gave you my name? I’m always happy for a referral.”
“Let me think,” said Annie. “I’m sure it was one of my regular customers, but I can’t remember which one. Sorry.”
“Customers? Oh, yes, you mentioned antiques. Tell me a little bit more about the property you want.”
Annie took a sip of her Coke. “For a while now, I’ve been thinking of renovating an older house in the downtown Historic area and making it into an antique store. I might even consider a tea room if there was space. Something quaint and out of the way that would be a destination rather than dependent on foot traffic.”
Leigh made notes. Annie noticed how quickly the woman wrote with her left hand.
“Zoning may be an issue, but a house on the fringe of an existing business area could qualify for a change in the zoning.”
“I’m not in a hurry,” said Annie. “It may take time to find what I’m looking for.”
“And you have stock to fill a large house if we find one suitable?”
“I attend a lot of estate auctions. I have two stores now. This would be my third.”
Leigh raised a perfectly drawn eyebrow. “Impressive.”