Final Table

by Carolina Mac

  Fogarty laughed at his own joke so hard he lapsed into a coughing spell. He pulled out a red bandana and used it to wipe his eyes. After he blew his nose he sobered and said, “Why are you here?”

  “There have been several robberies in West Austin and I wondered if anyone was offering you merchandise at a discounted price.”

  His eyes narrowed, and he did his best to look offended. “You’re asking me if I’m fencing stolen goods?”

  Blaine nodded. “I guess that’s what I’m wondering. Yes.”

  “The answer is no. There might have been a time years ago when the thought entered my head, but now I’m too old to risk spending time where I wouldn’t be comfortable, and I might not like the menu. Chances are I’d have to eat shit three times a day.”

  Blaine smiled and tried a different tack. “Buying and selling all over the city like you do, maybe you’d hear about cheap goods for sale?”

  “Sometimes I hear things.”

  I bet you do.

  Blaine leaned closer. “I don’t give a shit about the goods, Herman. These guys I’m after killed an innocent woman during.”

  He nodded with sad eyes. “I think I read about that in little Mary’s column.”

  Blaine stood and tossed a card on Fogarty’s desk. “I hope you hear something.”

  Fogarty nodded, then said, “Every Wednesday vendors buy spots in the parking lot and set up their own stalls.”

  Blaine turned and gave him a thumbs up. “Good information.”

  Austin Security Pros. Downtown Austin.

  FARRELL strolled up to the front desk in the tiny storefront office and laid his creds in front of a curvy blonde receptionist. “Could I speak to the manager, please?”

  “Let me see if she’s busy. A moment later the girl returned from her trip down the hall, smiled at Farrell and said, “I’ll show you to her office.”

  Farrell repeated his introduction to a dark-haired woman in her early forties with sleeve tats on both arms and four earrings in each ear.

  “I’m Tara Nichol. What can I do for the cops?”

  “Just a couple of questions about the systems you install. Do you have a list of them?”

  She pushed a colored brochure across the desk. “We install, service and monitor every system we sell. We specialize in packages.”

  Farrell glanced at the shiny brochure. “Nice. Would you mind giving me a list of your installers?”

  “Why?”

  “Because I asked you for one?” Farrell didn’t mean to sound sarcastic, but he might have.

  Tara shrugged. “Sure, I can get you one. You don’t have to be a shit about it.”

  Tocumen Airport. Panama City. Panama.

  JACKSON woke up when the plane landed. Sitting in first class, the flight attendant helped him with his small piece of hand luggage and gave him his blanket to keep.

  “I get to keep my blanket, Mommy?”

  “You can use it on the way home.”

  “This is my lucky day.”

  Santana grinned down at him. He had slept through part of the flight as well, with Annie’s head resting on his chest. No better feeling in the whole world than sleeping with the one you love next to you. Was he really in love? It had happened so fast and taken him completely by surprise. Would the feeling last? He had no marker and no clue.

  Tired and hungry, but with no time to eat, they cleared customs and boarded the connecting flight to David City.

  “Do we have to go on another plane right now, Mommy?”

  “Only for forty-five minutes, sweetheart, and then we’ll eat and sleep. We’ll drive up to Boquete in the morning to see Bianca.”

  “Where she lives is not easy to get to,” said Santana. “I didn’t realize we had another flight.”

  “Boquete is a quaint and popular town in the mountains at the other end of the country,” said Annie. “The mountain towns are much cooler than the cities and the beach areas. Boquete is where your mother wanted to live, and it is a little out of the way. Once international flights are available to David City it will be much easier. The airport has been expanded and I don’t know what they’re waiting for.”

  Hotel de David. David City.

  ANNIE parked the white Helix she’d rented at the airport in the hotel parking lot and carried some of the luggage while Santana carried a sleeping Jackson.

  They checked in and Annie put Jackson to bed while Santana retrieved the rest of the suitcases. She undressed her son, tucked him under the covers and kissed his forehead. He didn’t wake up.

  Santana returned a few minutes later. “There’s coffee downstairs if you want some.”

  “I’m exhausted,” said Annie. “I was hungry a while ago, but now I’m too tired to eat. Let’s sleep.”

  He held her in his arms and kissed her neck. “It was a long day. I could sleep too.”

  Blackmore Agency. Austin.

  BLAINE slunk into the kitchen and grabbed a beer from the fridge. “Jeeze, I’m beat, Carm. I’m so tired I don’t think I can eat.”

  “You can always eat,” said Farrell. “It’s your imagination playing tricks on you.”

  Blaine’s cell rang where he had tossed it on the table by the window. “Farrell, see who that is. I’m not taking another call out tonight.”

  Farrell glanced at the screen. “It’s a hot red-head.”

  “Fuck, no. I can’t deal. Answer it Farrell and make something up. Tell her I’m in the bathroom hurling.”

  Farrell snorted and pressed talk. “Judge, hello, this is Donovan at your service.”

  “Where’s the short fuse?”

  “In the can hurling his lunch.”

  “Tonight’s my last dinner before the election and I wanted you both to come and sit at my table.”

  “Shit, ma’am, I don’t think I have the designer rags for that gig.” Farrell drawled it out.

  She laughed. “Donovan, you know you look goddam hot in anything.”

  “News to me.”

  “Not news to the female population of this city.”

  “Where’s it at?”

  “Where’s what?”

  “Your eats?”

  The Judge giggled like she might have had a couple glasses of her fav vintage. “Hyatt Regency, downtown.”

  “Is there an open bar?”

  “No, but I’ll cover your drinks if your boss can’t afford them.”

  Blaine stood in the doorway waving his arms and shaking his head.

  “Hang on for a sec until I see if he’s okay.” Farrell crossed the room and whispered, “She wants us to come to her last supper at the Hyatt.”

  “No. I ain’t doing it.” Blaine stomped down a Harley boot and Lexi barked. “You go.” A grin spread across his face as the light came on. Fletcher and Hammer were standing in the foyer about to leave for the day. “and take these two with you.”

  Hyatt Regency. Downtown Austin.

  FARRELL gave Hammer and Fletch enough time to dash home, shower and change into the first available suit, or maybe the only available suit in their respective closets before he rounded them up again. The two new recruits put up loud protests, but they were too new to out and out refuse a direct order from the boss. Farrell promised them free booze and that went about halfway to appeasing them.

  “Political dinners ain’t my strong point,” said Fletcher as Farrell marched his buddies to the door of the Hyatt.

  “Ever been to one?” asked Farrell.

  “Well, not in person,” said Fletch.

  “There you go,” said Farrell, pushing Fletch through the revolving door, “It might be your thing.”

  “Might be interesting,” said Hammer. “Never been to one before either.”

  “I seen the hungry look in the Judge’s eyes,” said Fletch. “She’ll be on your bones at half time.” He pointed a finger at Hammer with a grin. “I’d put ten on it.”

  “Judges don’t do shit like that,” said Hammer. “Not when they’re gonna be Governor of Texas tomor
row.”

  “I think Edwards is gonna take it,” said Farrell, “don’t tell the Judge.”

  Security checked them out at the door, then let them pass. A hostess escorted the trio to the head table where they were sitting with the Mayor of Austin and Judge Campbell’s friend and supporter, Senator Templeton Stokes.

  Stokes might be able to keep the Judge grounded if she was elected, but he’d have a hard row to hoe.

  Cat spotted the tenuous trio and floated over, her long emerald gown radiating against her pale skin. The red hair had been curled and brushed against her bare shoulders enhancing the Judge’s perfectly made up face.

  Farrell heard Hammer suck in a breath.

  Each of them received a hug and a kiss on the neck. “My darling crime squad is here everyone. Make them welcome at our table.”

  The Mayor raised an eyebrow but stuck out a chunky hand to each of the boys. “You Blackmore’s crew?”

  “Yes sir,” said Farrell. “Sadly, the boss is under the weather.”

  “Too bad,” said the Mayor, “I had a few things I needed to clarify with that boy.”

  Like Blacky would clarify anything he didn’t want to?

  Without much participation in table conversation, the boys ploughed through the nine courses offered by the hotel kitchen. After the last lick of chocolate soufflé had been scraped from their bowls, they retreated outside to smoke before Judge Catherine Campbell gave her final speech of the campaign.

  “Good dinner,” said Fletch. “Couldn’t eat another fuckin bite, let me tell y’all.”

  “Yep,” said Farrell, “it was a lot of food. Nothing like Annie cooks, but it was food.”

  “Your mom a good cook, Farrell?” asked Hammer.

  “Her food is the best food in Texas. Hands down.”

  “That can’t be true,” said Fletcher.

  “Fuckin is true,” Farrell snarled so viciously Fletcher took a step back.

  “I believe you,” Fletch back-peddled. “Can we go, or do we have to listen to the speech?”

  “Be polite to listen after she fed us and paid for all our drinks,” said Farrell. “Won’t be more than another hour.”

  Hammer checked his watch. “Already ten after ten.”

  “I’m missing the Broncs,” said Fletcher.

  “Get your asses inside.”

  TWO hours later the boys were released from bondage. They hustled out to the parking lot with the rest of the throng and pulled up short.

  “Jesus in a handcart,” said Farrell, “Look at that.”

  “Is that snow?” Fletcher kicked at the white stuff with his shoe.

  “Sign him up for Mensa.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Tuesday, November 6th.

  Election Day.

  Blackmore Agency. Austin.

  BLAINE opened the back door to let Lexi out for her early morning run and couldn’t believe his eyes. The entire yard was blanketed in white. At least two inches of snow covered everything including some of Carm’s late blooming flowers.

  What about the fish? Should I call somebody?

  Pouring himself a mug of coffee in the kitchen, he caught the tail end of the weather. The temperature had dropped suddenly around eleven the night before, and what usually was rain in Texas came down as snow. Two and a half inches—more in rural areas—had been dumped on a city unprepared for such a contingency. Especially on election day.

  Carm switched stations and all the news centered around the weather. Slippery roads in a city with little salt and sand at the ready resulted in hundreds of fender benders. Police were stretched thin handling all the accident calls.

  “Shit, that can’t be good,” Blaine mumbled to himself. “Why in hell would they announce on TV that the whole police force was busy with fender benders? What jerk wrote that copy? Some assholes are gonna take advantage of the situation.”

  Carm pointed to the screen and together they watched Cat arrive at her designated polling station and cast her vote. The media followed her like baby armadillos hanging onto their momma’s tail.

  “Do you want to vote when I go, Carm?”

  She shrugged.

  “You should vote.”

  Farrell helped Travis to the kitchen table and got him a coffee. He pointed at the kitchen window. “See the fuckin snow?”

  “Lexi is rolling in it,” said Blaine. “She’s from Newfoundland/Labrador. They have lots of snow.”

  “Who knew she was missing the white stuff?” asked Farrell.

  Blaine sat down opposite Travis and checked out Farrell’s half-open eyes. “Should I ask about your dinner last night?”

  “We drank a lot and ate a lot of food.”

  “That was it?”

  “Yep.”

  “Think she’s gonna get in?” asked Travis as Carm tried to stuff a pillow behind his back.

  Blaine shook his head.

  David City. Panama.

  AFTER breakfast, Annie checked them out of their hotel and Santana loaded the luggage into the truck.

  “Why is it so hot, Mommy?” asked Jackson.

  “We’re near the Equator, sweetheart. It’s always hot here, all year round—that’s what equal means.”

  “Oh, I get it. Equal equals Equator. I’m gonna see if Neil knows that.”

  Annie smiled at him. “You’re a smart one.”

  The drive north into the mountains took about thirty-five minutes, but in the short distance there was a noticeable difference in temperature at the higher altitude. Santana lowered his window and enjoyed the cool breeze.

  “That’s better.”

  “Are we there yet?” asked Jackson from the back seat.

  “Almost,” said Annie as she turned onto the street running next to the river, “See the little blue house down the road?”

  Jackson stuck his head out his open window. “I see it.”

  “That’s Bianca’s house.”

  Annie parked in the short gravel drive.

  “I love this house, Mommy. It’s blue. Can we paint our house blue?”

  Santana laughed as he followed Annie along the flagstone path to the porch.

  Andrea, Bianca’s domestic, opened the screen door and stepped onto the porch with a dish towel in her hand. Tears trickled from her eyes as she spoke rapidly in Spanish.

  Santana held up a large calloused hand in an effort to slow Andrea down. Once he caught the gist of what she was saying, he turned to Annie and translated. “Mi madre is in the hospital.” His face drained of color as he gripped the porch railing. “Do you know how to get there?”

  “Yes,” said Annie. “Tell Andrea we’ll be back.”

  Boquete Hospital.

  BIANCA was sleeping when they arrived at the hospital, only a few blocks from her home. More the size of a clinic, the one-storey stucco building had only a few overnight beds. Most seriously ill patients were transferred to David City.

  Santana sat in the visitor’s chair in the corner, saying nothing, while Jackson and Annie went in search of cold drinks.

  When they returned, Bianca opened her eyes and began crying when she saw Santana. She spoke in Spanish and he moved closer to hear her. Tears filled his black eyes as he reached down and held his mother in his arms.

  Santana stood up and wiped his eyes. “I’m going to find the doctor.”

  Annie nodded and waved Jackson closer to the bed. “This is Jackson, Bianca.”

  “Hi Abuela. I’m sad that you’re sick.”

  She tried to smile but didn’t quite manage it.

  Santana returned saying Bianca had suffered a mild stroke but was on her way to recovering. “I’ll stay with her.”

  “I’ll get us a room at the hotel,” said Annie, “then come back and pick you up.”

  Santana nodded.

  Panamonte Hotel. Boquete.

  ANNIE parked across the street from the old hotel and just being in the vicinity brought back a flood of memories. Over the years, she’d stayed here on several occasions, one
being her honeymoon with Dave Powell. The Panamonte was one of her favorite places on the planet.

  Originally an old farmhouse, wings had been added and the interior updated. The original front porch was hung with baskets of cascading petunias and the aroma was heavenly. The back garden, a haven for bougainvillea, was extensive, beautifully tended and centered around an age-old white fountain.

  “Do they have a swimming pool, Mommy? I’m hot.”

  “Let’s find out.”

  EZ-Rest Motel. Airport Road. Austin.

  HALF FROZEN from the snow and the vicious wind whipping against them on the open road, the Varmints pulled into the EZ-Rest. They huddled shivering in the office behind Hondo while he booked a room.

  “Take one fourteen,” said the clerk, handing Hondo a key. “I think the heater works in that one.”

  With the bikes parked in a neat row in front of their room, they emptied their saddlebags and trudged inside.

  “Jesus, that was a fuckin cold ride, boss,” said Gage. “Didn’t realize it would be so fuckin far.” He took his leather gloves off and tried to move his fingers. “Never been so goddam cold.”

  “We’ll stay here and warm up,” said Hondo. He pointed at the rusty looking unit under the window. “Gage, get that mother humming. Turn the fucker on high. Pig, you and Walt go round us up some coffee.”

  “Yeah, boss,” said Walt. The two prospects returned from the vending machine a few minutes later with four Styrofoam cups and set them on the table.

  One of the prospects stood warming his hands over the heater. “Do we have to go out on our rides right away, boss?”

  “You’ll go out when I tell you to go out.”

  Blackmore Agency. Austin.

  HAMMER called first saying he was stopped behind a couple of accidents and he would be late.

  “Don’t worry about it,” said Blaine. “Get here when you can. I’ve decided to work from home today until the mess all over the city gets cleared up.”

  Fletcher called next with the same story. He was sitting at an intersection where four cars had crashed in the middle.