by Carolina Mac
“She’s dead,” said Travis, as Luke came in from outside. “The paper is there on the table. Maybe she read the headline and had a heart attack.”
“No blood?”
“Can’t see a wound or anything,” said Travis. “Course, women prefer poison or pills to off themselves.”
“Wait for Doctor Simon,” said Luke. “He’ll get a read on her.”
Travis watched for first response out the front window and called Blaine. “Too late here, boss. Mrs. Emmery is deceased.”
“Shit. How?”
“No idea. No blood. Could have been a heart attack.”
“How long has she been dead?”
“Umm… today’s paper is on the table.”
“Can you see a fireplace from where you’re standing?”
“Yep, looking right at it, boss.”
“Is there a gun hanging over the mantle?”
“Nope, but there’s a gun rack,” said Travis. “That where he got the gun?”
“I’d bet on it.”
“His mother must have known.”
“We’ll never find that out,” said Blaine. “Okay, whenever you’re clear there, call it a day.”
“Thanks, boss.”
Luke waited for Travis to share. “Soon as we’re finished, we’re done for the day.”
“I’m glad,” said Luke. “Been a killer couple of weeks.”
Eddie’s Restaurant. Downtown Austin.
ANNIE gave the keys to her Maserati to the valet and he promised to be extra careful with her car. She entered the bar and Brad Madill sat at one of the high tables waiting for her with a drink in front of him, his arm still in a sling. His suit appeared to be new and his hair was freshly cut.
As she scooted up on the stool across from him, his cologne filled her nostrils and although it was an expensive brand it somehow repelled her. She didn’t want to be here in this restaurant, and she didn’t want to be close to Brad Madill.
She’d only taken a sip or two out of her beer when a waiter arrived telling them their table was ready. He picked up their drinks and moved them into the dining area.
“That was a short wait,” she said for wont of something to say. Conversation was difficult with Brad, she’d found, but what did it matter, this was the last time she’d see him.
“You look gorgeous tonight, as always,” said Brad. “Your dress is exquisite, and I never get tired of looking at your hair.”
“You’re too nice, Brad, but thanks anyway.”
“There is no proper way to thank you for all you’ve done for me, Annie. Dinner is the least I can do.”
“I appreciate the gesture, but it wasn’t necessary. You should still be resting at home, at least until next week. You jumped the gun when you left the ranch, according to Dec.”
“He’s an amazing caregiver. Where did you find him?”
“Ireland. Dec’s from Ireland.”
Brad smiled, but only for a moment. “I can feel your sadness, Annie. How are things with Tyler?”
“We don’t know each other well enough to discuss my marriage, Brad. I’d prefer not to talk about Tyler.”
“Of course. I’m sorry I brought it up.” His cheeks colored slightly. She’d embarrassed him before the salad.
The waiter took their order and after he left Annie couldn’t think of a single thing to say to the AG. Not a fan of the establishment, almost everything on the tip of her tongue could be construed as an insult, so she sipped her beer and lapsed into silent mode.
Brad tried his best. “I’m searching the far reaches of my brain for something we have in common to talk about, and I’m failing miserably. I’m sorry I’m putting you through this kind of torture.”
Annie smiled and tried to make light of the blatant incompatibility. “We’re wired differently, Brad. There’s an abyss separating our interests. You know more about me by far than I know about you. How’s Bingo?”
He chuckled. “Bingo is happy I’m back home. She can be quite the prima donna if she doesn’t get her own way.”
The salads arrived and Annie picked up her fork and breathed a sigh of relief.
After the ordeal was over, Brad gallantly walked her to the exit and stood waiting with her until the valet brought her car around. He tipped the valet and thanked Annie for having dinner with him. He made no move to embrace her or embarrass her further. One point for the AG.
Coulter-Ross Ranch. La Grange.
ANNIE parked her Maserati in the garage and closed the door. The house was quiet as she locked the front door and tip-toed down the hall to her bedroom. She took off her shoes, hung up her dress and changed into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt.
After checking on the kids and Sarah, she went out the back door closing it softly behind her.
EPILOGUE
BLAINE sat in the departures lounge at Austin-Bergstrom waiting for his flight to New Orleans. He glanced up at the overhead TV screen and watched Governor Campbell make a compelling speech about the apprehension of the sniper. She gave all the credit to the Violent Crime Squad and for that Blaine was thankful.
Whether Collin Emmery would stand trial was yet to be decided. Which ever way it went it was out of his hands. The boy would either be in prison or in a State hospital for the rest of his life.
Misty and what was going on with her was Blaine’s biggest concern. Was she coming home when the renovations were complete or had she decided to move back to New Orleans permanently?
His flight was called to board and as he settled into his first class seat he closed his eyes and wondered if he still had a girlfriend.
I sincerely hope you enjoyed Road Kill, book sixteen in the Blackmore Agency Series. If you’d like to read a preview of Street Rat, book seventeen in the series, I’ve included pages for you.
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Author Notes from Carolina:
Road Kill was a little different format for me, but one I enjoyed writing. Hope you enjoyed it too.
A special thank you to the fans who take the time to reach out and share their ideas, support, and opinions. You know who you are, Bill, Alisia, Beverly, Patti, Lynn, Dorothy, Shelley, Diane, Wendy, Shirley and Freda, Dawn, Alice, Billy and Melinda, Jim and Gayle, Ava, Terry and Celestia to name a few.
I realize there is no link to Street Rat. I’m trying something new with the Amazon rankings. If you are on my newsletter or Carolina Mac reader forum you will get a notice when it’s up on September 26th.
To access my author page on Amazon and see all my books published to date, click here.
Carolina Mac is the author of sixty books in four different series. The Regulators biker series, The Quantrall PI series, The Paradise Park series and The Blackmore Agency series. Carolina lives with her family in Ontario, Canada.
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Regulator Series:
Lily
Bad Beat
Panama Annie
Coulter
Searching for Billy
End of an Era
Wingman
Triple Homicide
The Foundation
Hotline
Powell
Quantrall Series:
Quantrall
Ink Minx
Ray Jay
Blacky
The Coven
You Forgot to say Goodbye
<
br /> Payback
Rags to Rage
The Corner Office
Race
Coma
No Defense
Full Circle
Stick a Needle in Your Eye
Crude
The Blackmore Agency Series:
Double Down
Splitting Aces
Dead Man’s Hand
Drawing Dead
Under the Gun
Rivered
The Turn
Final Table
Cat
Dog
Vigilance
Mystere
Hole in the Heart
Dead Eye
Backwater
Road Kill
Street Rat (Up next)
Paradise Park Series:
Paradise Park
Return to Paradise
Paradise Sparks
Alone in Paradise
Together in Paradise
Prisoner in Paradise
Escape from Paradise
These are in series order.
CHAPTER ONE
Sunday, October 30th.
East Austin.
Two a.m.
RAIN LEAKED through the unfinished roof every time it rained and for Texas, it had rained a lot lately. The dripping drove him crazy. Hitting the plastic tarps that the construction crew spread everywhere, the sound was magnified and who could sleep?
Soon this place would be lost to them and they’d have to move on. But where? Fewer and fewer places to hunker down in the city. He wished things were different and he was back home in a snug, dry house in Johnson City, Indiana.
That could never happen. Not in this lifetime.
“Move over.” Somebody gave him a shove in the dark and he couldn’t see the face, but he knew who it was all the same. Sour body odor, whiskey breath and an overpowering smell of weed. “I’m getting wet.”
He shoved back. “So, am I, so what’s your problem?”
“You’re my problem. I’m tired and I’m trying to sleep, and I found this place first. My bad for telling you assholes about it. I should have kept it all to myself.”
“Get away from me, Buffalo.”
“Shut up, kid. I hear something.”
Ardal grew silent, not daring to breathe and he listened.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Then Ardal heard talking in the pit down below. Too far away to make out the words. The building they were squatting in would be finished apartments ready to rent out in a few weeks. One of four units built around an open area that would eventually become an atrium, but for now the space in the center was filled with piles of sand, gravel, rubbish, heavy equipment and machinery.
“Can you hear what they’re saying?” Ardal asked Buffalo who’d crawled over to the edge of the second floor and was peering down.
Buffalo didn’t answer, so Ardal crab-walked across the dusty concrete, lay down on his belly and looked for himself. Three flashlights bobbing around. Three men. Then one light held firm on a section of dirt directly below them and two men with shovels started to dig.
“They’re gonna bury something,” said Buffalo.
“Brilliant.” Ardal regretted being this close to Buffalo. A huge kid from upstate New York. Dumb as a post and the guy was a pig.
“They’ve got something in a garbage bag.”
“Is it a body?” Ardal wondered out loud. If it was only garbage why would it take three men to bury it at night?
“What are you guys doing?” Gillette hollered to them as she came in through the tarp at the back of the floor where the scaffolding was set up. Easy access once you got used to climbing it.
“Shut up,” Buffalo said as quietly as possible, but it wasn’t quiet enough.
The light down below switched directions and shone up at them. They flattened themselves against the concrete floor trying to make themselves invisible. “They saw us,” said Buffalo. “We’re dead.”
“Run,” said Ardal, “out the back way.”
The two ran towards the back of the building—the way they always snuck in at night—stumbling over debris and jumping over sleeping bodies. Ardal grabbed Gillette’s hand as he and Buffalo passed her and Ardal dragged her along. They left a dozen others sleeping.
Ardal panted for breath as he blasted through the blue tarp covering the opening at the back of the building. In the pitch dark he scrambled down the scaffolding, missing his footing a couple of times and almost falling. He grabbed tight with his hands to save himself and felt the sharp metal dig in. When he reached the ground, Buffalo was way ahead and had disappeared from sight.
“Ha, got you, you little bastards.” Two big guys grabbed Ardal and Gillette. Ardal kicked and clawed and scratched his way free of the guy holding him and ran for it. He climbed the chain link at the back of the property and dove head first into the laneway on the other side. His shoulder took the worst of it, gravel cut into him and hurt like a bitch. No time to see if he was bleeding. Ardal swallowed a gulp of air and he ran.
Gillette’s screams pierced his soul as he fled into the deserted street a block away, but he couldn’t help her. He was too small and in a fight to the death, size did matter.