Final Table

by Carolina Mac

  “That’s what Jacks said, but I couldn’t figure what it was.”

  “Talk to you soon, baby. Love you.”

  Blaine pressed end feeling he hadn’t learned much when his cell jangled, and he checked the screen.

  Jesus, I wish she’d quit calling me.

  “Judge Campbell, what’s up?”

  “Still not calling me Cat?”

  “Not quite.”

  “I need to talk to you about what happened yesterday. According to my campaign manager, I need to make an impact statement about the courtroom incident.”

  “Just like I already said—it was a tragedy. It was the lead on the news last night.”

  “I need details.”

  “I’m out of town. How about Monday?”

  “Where are you?”

  “Media surrounded my house in the city. I had to leave.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Uh huh. Let’s talk on Monday when things cool off.”

  “That may not be soon enough.”

  “It will have to be. I’m not coming back.” He pressed end and went back to the range to check on the boys.

  I don’t think I could ever work for her. Maybe she won’t get elected. Let’s hope.

  Varmint Camp. Apache Mountains.

  HONDO called a meeting of the executive to order. “You all know why you’re here. The boss has taken off with a woman and left us here in the middle of ass-fuck country with no food, no water and no fuckin heat. I’ve talked to most of our members and heard the talk, and I’d say almost all of them want to go back to El Paso and set up our new club there.”

  “I sure as hell do,” said Gage.

  “Me too,” said Roberto.

  “So I’m gonna call a general meeting tonight and put it to a vote. If the majority want to move, we have to bring mayhem down on the boss and get the hell out of these mountains.”

  “Good thing you put a tag on his ride,” said Hondo.

  “Yeah, good thing.”

  Route two ninety.

  SANTANA woke when Annie took the ramp for the cutoff to two ninety. She smiled at him over the console. “It’s shorter to go this way than following the interstate down into San Antone and taking the long way around.”

  It didn’t matter which way she went. He’d follow her anywhere, like a lost puppy. After their night together, he was a different person. He didn’t even want to think of leaving her and going back to the club.

  Her cell rang in the cup holder and she picked it up and mostly listened. She ended the call saying, “Talk to you soon, baby. Love you.”

  Santana raised an eyebrow and watched her face.

  “My son, Blaine. He wondered where I was.”

  “You have kids?”

  “Only one of my own. Jackson, he’s six. Blaine is twenty and he’s adopted, the rest are foster boys.”

  “Bet you’re a good mother.”

  “I try to be.”

  Santana pointed. “The gas gage is low.”

  Coulter-Ross Ranch. La Grange.

  THE BOYS sat at the picnic table after target practice and had a couple of beers while they cleaned their guns.

  Farrell had observed Fletch and Hammer, studied their targets and proceeded to point out problem areas.

  “Didn’t think I had problems,” said Hammer. “I don’t miss too often.”

  “It would be best for the team if you never missed,” said Blaine. “It’s safer for all of us that way.”

  Fletcher cocked his blond head to one side. “I need work to be a hundred percent accurate.”

  “As soon as Mom comes back, you guys can have a couple of sessions with her. She’ll raise your level of accuracy.”

  “Your mother can shoot?”

  “She’s the best,” said Farrell. “Taught all her boys to shoot.”

  Blaine entered the house through the back door on his way to the Sub-Zero for more beer. His cell said Travis.

  “Hey, man, is tomorrow the big day?”

  “Yep. I’m being released tomorrow and ever since day one, Ginny has been on my case to recover at her house.”

  “But?”

  “But that might give her the wrong impression.”

  “You’ve changed your mind about the older woman thing?”

  “She’s nice and obviously gorgeous, but I think it would be a mistake.”

  “Okay… what are you thinking?”

  “I want to stay with the team while I get better, so I know what the hell is going on. If I’m at her place, I’ll be in a fuckin bubble, like some kind of a busted toy.”

  Blaine chuckled.

  “I’ll get Carm to get a room ready for you. The stairs might be a bitch until you’re a lot better, so maybe the den on the main floor on the pull-out sofa.”

  “Thanks, boss, and it doesn’t matter to me where I sleep. I’ve been stressing over this and I owe you… for a lot of stupid shit I’ve done.”

  Blaine spared him the confirmation on that front. “What time are you out?”

  “Between ten and eleven.”

  “Let Ginny know we’re picking you up. Tell her I want you with the team and that way she won’t be crushed. At least… not so bad.”

  Travis hung up and Jack called and reported that Koss or his sons had not moved. They were holed up in their residence in east Austin and nothing was happening.

  “Okay, change off when it’s time,” said Blaine, “But Koss senior is ex-con and all sleaze. I don’t trust him for a minute.”

  Varmint Camp. Apache Mountains.

  AT NINE Hondo called the general meeting of all the members to order. They discussed a few issues about the meth lab and the delivery of the next batch, then went on to new business. The only new business concerned Santana.

  Hondo explained how Santana had broken the club rules by abandoning the membership when they needed him. He didn’t bother to mention that Santana was only gone for a few days. It fitted his purpose better to say that Santana had left the club without a vote letting him do so and had broken the rules.

  Everyone knew what happened when you broke a club rule. Elimination. No second chances.

  “Does everyone understand?”

  There was a lot of mumbling. A few of the boys liked Santana and weren’t totally in tune with capping him. Some thought Hondo, the VP, was self-serving but didn’t dare to verbalize their thoughts. Everyone knew as soon as Santana was out of the way, Hondo would be number one.

  “Let’s take a vote,” said Hondo. “All in favor of bringing mayhem down on Santana raise your hand.”

  Roberto stood and counted. “Thirty-five, boss.”

  “All those against?”

  “Seven.”

  “Carried.”

  Hondo pointed at the enforcer. “Gage, myself, Pig Prescott and Walt Sanchez will complete the job. This will be blood-in for Prescott and Sanchez.” Hondo whacked the gavel down and said, “Meeting adjourned.”

  Coulter-Ross Ranch. La Grange.

  ANNIE paused at the gate and waited for Jose to let her through. It was pitch dark, but lights were on in the house. “Blaine’s truck is here,” she said. “Maybe my boys are here for the weekend.”

  “Do they come often?”

  “They’re too busy to come often, but they come when they can.”

  “What are they busy doing?” asked Santana as he reached for the door handle.

  “Blaine is head of Violent Crime in Austin.”

  “Jesus,” he said, “that makes me nervous.”

  “You haven’t done anything, sugar. Don’t worry about it.”

  “In the past I may have done some shit that ain’t top notch.”

  Annie chuckled. “Haven’t we all?”

  Santana opened the saddlebags on his bike and pulled out his few belongings. “I’m sure what you’ve done wouldn’t compare to what I’ve done.”

  Annie smiled in the dark, but Santana couldn’t see her. “Oh, I don’t know about that.”

  I
nside the house, Annie stopped at the Sub-Zero in her expansive kitchen and took out a couple of Lone Stars. “Let’s have a beer and I’ll introduce you to my boys.”

  Santana nodded, took the can from her hand and followed her down the hall and into a room bigger than any room he’d ever seen. A bunch of young guys were sitting around watching a game on the flat screen.

  Annie smiled and introduced Santana. “Hey guys, this is George’s brother, Santana Dela Cruz.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Sunday, November 4th.

  Coulter-Ross Ranch. La Grange.

  SANTANA couldn’t believe the crowd at the breakfast table. Annie’s huge family and all her working cowboys crowded around the big pine table, laughing and teasing each other. The cowboys happier than hell to see Blaine and Farrell. He could tell that. Those two boys must live somewhere else.

  “You guys should sleep over more often,” said Bull. “Get’s kind of boring around here with nobody to pick on.”

  “I’m gonna sleep over at Blaine’s house in Austin,” said Jacks, “and I’m gonna feed the new fish.”

  “I haven’t seen the yard yet, sweetheart. Maybe we should have a barbeque to celebrate.”

  Blaine nodded as he buttered one of Rosalie’s warm biscuits. “Yeah, we should. I’ll ask Lil to get it organized.”

  “Why don’t you ask Carm,” said Farrell, “she’ll have to do all the cooking.”

  “No, she won’t,” said Blaine. “I can flip a burger.”

  “I love Carm’s burritos,” said Jacks. “I could eat a hundred.”

  “You can’t eat a hundred,” said Lucy. “You’ll blow up.”

  “Listen to your little sister,” said Blaine.

  Santana listened to the banter and the back and forth and realized he’d never experienced the feeling of a big family before. This must be what it felt like.

  “When are you going to Panama, Mom?” asked Blaine.

  “I’ll look for flights today,” said Annie. “While we’re away, Santana wants Nevada to give his bike a tune-up. It was running rough on the way back here.”

  “Did you ride all the way?” asked Farrell.

  “Half way,” said Santana, then trailered my baby the rest of the way.”

  “Our garage is the best,” said Blaine, “the boys will make it run like a charm.”

  “You boys have rides?”

  “Yep, you can see them when you come into the city,” said Blaine.”

  Farrell checked the time. “We have to go soon to pick Travis up at the hospital.”

  “I thought he’d be going to Ginny’s house,” said Annie. “She’s hovered over him since day one.”

  “Travis decided against it,” said Blaine.

  “Does she know?”

  Blaine smiled and shook his head. “Don’t think so.”

  “Oh, oh,” said Annie. She jogged to the stove for the coffee pot.

  Austin Convalescent Hospital.

  BLAINE parked his truck at the pickup loop to make it closer for Travis, and he and Farrell went inside to see if the big guy was ready.

  Looking paler than death on a stick, Travis sat hunched up in the wheelchair with his duffle beside him. In a breathy voice, Blaine had to bend down to hear, Travis said, “I told Ginny you were picking me up.”

  “How’d that go?” asked Farrell.

  “Not worth a flying fuck. She’s super pissed at me.”

  Blaine shrugged. “Too bad. I’ll get the nurse.”

  It took a few minutes to get Travis out of the hospital and comfortably seated in the back of the truck. Every movement of his legs pulled against the unhealed wound in his gut.

  Farrell folded the wheelchair and stowed it in the load bed before he jumped into the shotgun seat.

  Blaine pulled away from the loop, made the bend and eased into the street, trying not to catch the corner of the curb the way his oversized tires loved to do. Bouncing would be hell on Travis. Concentrating on his turn, he only caught a glimpse of Doctor Rodriguez driving the opposite way into the parking lot.

  “Was that her, Farrell?” asked Blaine.

  “Yep, for sure.” Farrell turned and gave Travis the stink-eye over the console. “You sure you told her?”

  “I did. Honest.”

  Blaine drove to the next corner intending to turn around and fix the situation, but a glance in the rear view told him the good Doctor was following them home.

  “She’s right behind us,” said Farrell.

  “Yeah, I saw her,” said Blaine. “I’ll talk to her when we get home. Maybe she wants to help Trav get settled in.”

  “Jesus,” said Travis. “I’m in rough shape. Hope she doesn’t hurt me.”

  Farrell laughed. “I’ll watch your back.”

  Blackmore Agency. Austin.

  BLAINE turned the corner onto Franklin and some of the media vans had given up the vigil and gone, but three were still parked across the street staring at his gate.

  He paused in front of the wrought iron enclosure and used the remote to open the gate, waiting long enough for Doctor Rodriguez to drive through before he closed it.

  He jumped out of the truck and as soon as the media hounds saw him in the front yard, they charged across the street and started shouting questions at him.

  Blaine walked to the gate as calmly as he could manage. “I’m only going to say this one time, people. Y’all are invading my private space. If y’all aren’t gone in five minutes, I’ll have you towed, and every one of you will be charged.”

  “You can’t do that,” someone hollered. “Freedom of the press. You can’t stop us from parking here.”

  Blaine pulled out his cell and called Austin PD.

  Farrell had Travis half out of the truck by the time Blaine trudged, furious, back from the gate. Ginny was standing next to the open truck door giving directions that Farrell didn’t seem to be heeding. He waved Ginny out of the way and lifted Travis bodily into the wheelchair. “Okay, partner?”

  Travis nodded and heaved out a big breath.

  “He’ll have to stay on the main floor,” said Ginny. “He can’t be upstairs.”

  “Don’t worry, ma’am,” said Farrell, “we’ve got it all worked out and we’ll take good care of him.”

  “I want him at my place, so I can see what’s happening with the healing of the wound,” said Ginny. “This isn’t a good idea.” To Blaine: “Who’s idea was this?”

  Blaine spit the lie out so quickly he almost believed it himself. “Mine, Ginny. I want him here, so he’s included in the day to day. It makes a much better re-entry into a daily routine.”

  Farrell rolled his eyes, stepped behind the chair and rolled it over to the porch steps.

  Lexi appeared from the back of the house and stormed the gate again, and she was right. Another vehicle was stopped, waiting to come in.

  “Who the hell is that?” Blaine mumbled as he walked down the drive. “Oh, Jesus, kill me now.”

  The gate swung open and Judge Campbell drove her Lexus through and parked behind Doctor Rodriguez’ car. She hopped out of the driver’s seat wearing tight jeans and a black v-neck sweater, her red hair hanging loose and windblown. Blaine could detect the ice in the Judge’s voice as she greeted Ginny. “Good morning, Doctor Rodriguez, I didn’t expect to see you here.”

  Ginny glared, her black eyes flashing. She nodded and said, “Judge Campbell. I have to go inside and help Farrell with Travis.”

  Blaine sucked it up. “Beer, Cat?”

  “Love one, kiddo.” She swept her arm around. “Gorgeous landscaping. Is it new?”

  “Just finished. I’ll show you the back. I put in a fountain and a fish pond for Carm.”

  “Carm?”

  “You’ll meet her when we go inside.”

  “A new woman in your life?”

  “Nope.” Blaine led the way past the carriage house and into the wide expanse of property behind the house.

  “Huge back here. Looks like two lots.”
/>   “It is.”

  Judge Campbell strolled across the lawn and peered into the pond. “Beautiful,” she said, “are they expensive?”

  “Some are,” said Blaine. “They can start at forty to fifty and go to a few hundred.”

  “Each?”

  “You only need a few if the pond is small.”

  “How about that beer?” she asked.

  “Sure, let’s go in.”

  “Why is Ginny Rodriguez here?”

  “Your ex-competitor?”

  “You could call her that, I guess.”

  “She’s overseeing bringing Travis home from the hospital.”

  “Why?”

  “Umm… she’s fond of him.”

  Cat Campbell curled her red lip. “Yes, and I guess she is a doctor.”

  These women fuckin hate each other.

  On the way inside, Cat brought up the real reason for her in-person visit. She pressed Blaine. “Have you thought anymore about what I’m to say about the courtroom murder?”

  Blaine stopped and took a stance in the hallway. “Does Monday ring a bell?”

  “I didn’t think I could wait until tomorrow. My campaign manager has a sharp eye on my numbers and the election is on Tuesday.”

  “How do your numbers look?” Blaine waved her into the kitchen and pointed at the table in the window alcove. He took a Corona from the Sub-Zero and pulled a bottle of Merlot out of the wine cooler and carried both to the table. He went back for a wine glass and Carm hurried into the kitchen to see what he was doing.

  “Que haces?”

  “Getting a drink. Do you want some wine?”

  “Si.”

  In Spanish he said, “This is Judge Campbell. She’s running for Governor in Tuesday’s election.” To Cat: “This is Carmelita Flores, mi Corazon.”

  Cat nodded at Carmelita but said nothing.

  I thought Cat could speak Spanish.

  Carm smiled and accepted the glass that Blaine had poured for her. “Gracias.”

  “How is Travis doing?” asked Blaine, “I haven’t had time to check on him yet.”

  Carm shook her head and Blaine could tell by her face that something was wrong.