by Carolina Mac
“The one by the airport?”
“Yep. Double homicide.”
The Rule Rental Building. East Austin.
BLAINE arrived ahead of Farrell, parked on the road and ducked under the tape uniforms had strung to secure the scene. Austin PD squads were parked next to a black unmarked that belonged to Lopez, another unmarked for homicide detectives, then the CSI team and the ME’s wagon.
Lopez shot out a hand to Blaine and gave him a grin. “Haven’t seen you in a couple weeks or more. Nothing to do?”
“Yeah, that’s it,” said Blaine. “Vacay.”
“I see your red-head got herself a new home.”
Blaine felt himself bristle. “Ain’t my red-head and never was. We ain’t talking.”
Lopez grinned. “Trouble in paradise?”
“Whatever working relationship we had is a thing of the past,” said Blaine.
Lopez changed the subject and pointed. “Your boys are here. That a new guy?”
“Two new guys,” said Blaine. One is already fuckin shot and he’s in Saint Mike’s.”
The medical examiner stood up and Blaine was afforded a look at the corpses as they lay tangled in death with their Harleys.
“Head shots.”
“Perfect head shots,” said the ME. “Downward trajectory. Shooter was on the roof.”
Blaine glanced up. “Course nobody was around, and nobody saw or heard anything. Perfect spot for it. Typical biker execution.”
Farrell ducked under the tape with Fletcher behind him. He heard the sound of engines and glanced up the road. Three media vans on their way. “Here they come. We’re gonna be on the fuckin news.”
Blaine introduced Fletcher to Lopez, and Lopez looked him over. “You’re on the best team, kid. Give it all you got.”
“Yes sir, I will.”
“Fletch was a CO at Travis County,” said Blaine.
“A job I wouldn’t want.” Lopez made a face. “You’re better off out of there. Fresh air and better company.”
“Yes, sir,” said Fletcher. “You got that right.”
Farrell knelt down and checked the cuts before the ME zipped up the bodies. “Varmints.” He gave Blaine the eye.
EZ-Rest Motel. East Austin.
GAGE and Hondo had sobered up a little from the rough shape they were in earlier in the day. They came back from the I-Hop with two six-packs they’d picked up at a package store, stretched out on the beds and turned on the tube.
“Too fuckin cold to ride,” said Gage. “Good day to stay in and smoke some weed.”
“I turned up the heat,” said Hondo. “Turn the channel.”
Gage flicked around a couple of stations and stopped when he saw late breaking news. He hopped off the bed and stood in front of the TV.
“What the hell you looking at so hard?” asked Hondo.
“Two dead bodies. Both our guys are dead.”
Hondo moved closer. “They can’t be dead.”
“Cops are there and the CSI truck.”
“Not our guys,” said Hondo. “Just a coincidence.”
Gage pointed and hollered. “Is it a coincidence that one of the dead guys was riding Pig’s Fat Boy?”
Hondo pushed Gage out of the way. “Let me see.”
Coulter-Ross Ranch. La Grange.
ANNIE sat propped up in bed going over financial reports from Powell Corp. She was light years behind on her corporate duties and she’d have to go to San Antonio and have a sit down with her CEO soon.
She stared at the empty side of her bed and felt tears burning behind her eyes. Tears for Jesse, the man she would always love. Theirs was a situation with no resolution.
Her cell rang on the nightstand. A welcome distraction. She checked the screen. Blaine.
“Hey, sweetheart.”
“Hi, Mom, is Santana back from Panama yet?”
“No. Not for a while. Why?”
“A couple members of his club were found dead out by the airport.”
“Oh, yeah? I only met one guy when I was there—at their camp in the mountains. The guy on the gate. I think his name was Roberto.”
“There’s only one reason they would follow him here, Mom. You knew about the tracker on his ride.”
“Uh huh. That’s true.”
“Are you clear on this?”
“All clear.”
“Good. I love you, Annie.”
“I love you, baby. More than anything.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Friday, November 9th.
Big Six Motel. Stockton.
HONDO toweled off his long hair as he walked from the bathroom to his roll of clothes on the bed. “Gotta get back and whip the club into shape. The next shipment might be ready to run into the city from the lab and that’s gotta be our first priority. We’ve got commitments and people don’t get delivery on time, they ain’t gonna take it lying down.”
“Who capped Pig and Walt?” asked Gage. “That should be our first priority. If it was Santana, he’ll be on our asses like flies on shit and we’re already dead.”
“What are you sayin? We shouldn’t go back to the camp?”
“We have to go back if we want our money,” said Gage. “But we need heavy security. A helluva lot more than we have now. If Santana’s coming for us, we need a warning system in place to get the jump on him.”
“Even if Santana didn’t cap Pig and Walt, and somebody did it for him, he knows we voted to bring mayhem down on him,” said Hondo. “He’s got no choice but to retaliate.”
“Yep, he will, and we’ve got to be ready.”
Blackmore Agency. Austin.
BLAINE was up at dawn. So many things were niggling at him, he couldn’t sleep. The Judge was going to be a huge thorn in his side when she came to power, he could feel it in his gut—how bad would it be? No telling.
Then the Annie and Santana thing. It would be best for all concerned if Santana stayed with Bianca in Panama for good, but would that happen? Jesse was asking questions and sooner or later—even though he was living at his own ranch with Charity—he would take a stand against Santana.
Misty? What the hell was Misty up to, visiting Travis in the hospital, making him salve and coming to visit him at the house. Was she trying to make him jealous? If she was, it was damn well working. They needed to talk.
The first three items on his mental list of problems were all female. What did that tell him? The women in his world were driving him nuts.
Shake it off and concentrate on work.
The back door closed, and he heard from the other female in his life—Carm was sobbing in the laundry room. He took off running down the hall and found her trying to revive a dead Koi in the laundry tub.
“Oh, no. Did one die?”
“Demasiado frio.”
“Si, too fuckin cold. Don’t cry, Carm, I’ll get you another one. Are the rest of them okay?”
“Si.”
Farrell stuck his head in to see what was going on. “Aw, shit, I loved that one with all the black on it.” He grabbed Carm and hugged her.
Travis County Courthouse. Austin.
JESSE parked the surveillance unit and he and Farrell found their way through the plethora of corridors inside the courthouse to Juanita Andrew’s bail hearing.
Her case was the third one called. Juanita entered her plea of ‘not guilty’ and from that point on, her lawyer did all the talking.
Farrell pointed to a Hispanic woman in the front row and whispered to Jesse, “That’s her mother.”
After a little more back and forth between the lawyer and the Judge, Juanita Andrews was granted bail in the amount of twenty thousand dollars.
Her mother stood up and proceeded directly to the bail bondsman’s office. She didn’t seem to be a stranger to the process.
Jesse and Farrell went back to the unit and got ready to follow Juanita. “Are we in position to hear what’s going on at the Andrew’s residence?” asked Jesse.
Farrell nodded. “
I think we might be.”
Blackmore Agency. Austin.
LILY hollered from her office. “Got one, boss.”
Blaine hurried down the hall to see what Lil had.
Travis was lounging in Lil’s office drinking coffee and keeping her company.
Wonder how Rick likes this development?
Lil pointed at her screen. “Storage unit in Marko Balboa’s name.”
“Fantastic. Give me the address and I’ll work on the warrant. We’ll go have a peek inside.”
Lily grinned. “I used to love that show where they bid on the storage units. You never know what you’ll find inside.”
Blaine went into his own office and called Chief Calhoun.
“Mr. Balboa’s got a storage unit, eh?” The Chief chuckled and seemed to be in a good mood. “Now we’re getting somewhere. I’ll have the warrant typed up by the time you get here. Some of the guys from robbery might be free to help y’all with the search.”
“Thanks, Chief.”
Blaine pressed end, then a picture of a black cat came on the screen and he groaned. “Good morning, Judge.”
“Morning, sweetie. I can’t tell you how bad I feel about our little misunderstanding. I never should have approached Farrell without talking to you first. I made a mistake and I want to rectify it, if possible.”
“There’s nothing you can say or do. You’ve demonstrated that I can’t trust you, and that says it all. I don’t work with people I can’t trust. That’s like signing your own death warrant in my line of work. We have no future, Cat. I only hope the people of Texas can trust you. It will be a long four years if they can’t.”
He pressed end when he heard her crying.
Coulter-Ross Ranch. La Grange.
ANNIE ran down the lane after putting Jackson and Lucy on the school bus. It had warmed up slightly, but the wind blew from the north and had a bitter sting to it. She had almost reached the gate when her cell rang in her pocket. Santana.
“Good news, Annie. My mother can come home tomorrow. I’m renting a vehicle and picking her up around one o’clock.”
“That’s great news. Tell her I’m thinking about her.”
“I will. She knows you love her.”
“Are you thinking about what you’ll do about the club when you come home?”
“Yes, it’s unfinished business and it’s heavy on my mind. By the time I leave here, I’ll know what I’m going to do.”
I bet I know what that’s going to be.
Ranger Headquarters. Austin.
BLAINE stopped first at the lab to see if Sue had come up with anything.
“Nothing yet, sorry. We dusted a lot of that stuff from the flea market and there are so many prints on every item, they’re smudged.”
“Don’t worry,” said Blaine, “We’ve got a storage unit in the works and there will be a lot more where that stuff came from.”
“A storage unit? Sounds like work.”
Blaine grinned. “Hear anything back from ballistics?”
“Those guys are backed up, but I’ll go over there later and see what I can dig up. I know y’all are needing a break.”
“We sure are. Thanks, Sue.”
Chief Calhoun’s Office. Ranger Headquarters.
BLAINE knocked, then let himself in and sat in front of Calhoun’s desk.
“The warrant is ready for a signature.” The Chief frowned. “Unaware of your little scrap with the new first lady of Texas, I asked her to sign the warrant.”
“Oh, shit,” mumbled Blaine.
“The woman cried on the phone, son. What the hell are you two fighting about?”
“She went behind my back and tried to hire Farrell out from under me, sir. Tried to take him to head up security when she moves to the mansion.”
“Fuck that,” hollered the Chief. “She can’t pull a goddam stunt like that and take my best deputy. I’m glad you made the bitch cry.”
Blaine smiled. “I let her know I wasn’t happy.”
“Is that the kind of Governor she’s going to be? Playing people and making underhanded moves?”
Blaine pointed. “Exactly what I asked. ‘Are the people able to trust you?’ That’s when she cried.”
The Chief had become a little red in the face. “She should be crying. And if she knows what’s good for her, she better pull it together in the next month or so.”
“Where is she?” asked Blaine.
“Working from home. She has nothing on her calendar today.”
Judge Cambell’s Residence. West Austin.
BLAINE’S head pounded as he stood at Cat’s door. The last thing he wanted to do was ask her for any favors, not that signing a warrant was a favor, it was part of her job.
She opened the door, her face pale and devoid of makeup. Her skin was fair, the complexion red-heads are born with, a lighter shade of pale.
“Blaine, come in.”
He stepped into the foyer and handed her the warrant.
She stood in front of him looking it over, then placed it on the hall table and signed it. “There you go. I hope you find what y’all are looking for.”
He nodded, took the warrant and left.
All-safe Storage. East Austin.
FLETCHER and Lily were waiting outside the storage facility office when Blaine arrived with the warrant.
“What number is it?” asked Fletcher.
“Four ten,” said Blaine. “Did you talk to the manager?”
“Yep,” said Fletcher, “He’s inside and said to call him when we had the warrant. I’ll get him.” Fletcher went into the small office and came back with the owner.
He offered a hand to Blaine, “Jarrod Swayze. Nice to meet you, Ranger Blackmore.” He held up a pair of bolt cutters. “Let’s go execute your warrant.”
They walked between long rows of identical units, all with padlocks on their doors. The only identifying mark on each unit was the number painted in black.
Swayze handed off the bolt cutters to Fletcher and let him do the deed, then Swayze rolled up the door of Balboa’s unit. The twelve by twelve space was piled high with a wide assortment of items. Bikes, lawnmowers, power tools, TV’s, electronic equipment, computers, and then there were boxes. Two rows of boxes piled as high as space allowed.
“A huge amount of stuff,” said Blaine. “We’re going to need help. Lil, see if any guys in robbery are free. If not, call Rick, Jack and Greg.”
Andrews’ Residence. Austin.
JESSE parked the dark green truck with the camper unit on the back down the block from the row house Juanita Andrews and her mother lived in. He locked the cab and he and Farrell climbed into the back where the surveillance equipment was housed.
“Want a Coke, boss?” asked Farrell. He reached for the mini fridge under the worksurface. “We might be here for a long while.”
“Yeah, let’s have a Coke, and hope we don’t sit here until midnight for nothing.”
Jesse put the headphones on and held up a finger.
Farrell put the sound on speaker.
“I hope you’re happy, Juanita. I had to put the house up for collateral this time to get your sorry ass out of jail.”
“I’m sorry, mama. Really sorry.”
“And how are we gonna pay for your lawyer?”
“I can pay him, mama. I’ve got a paycheck coming.”
“Do you have a job to go to on Monday?”
Silence.
“Did you hear me, Juanita? Do you have a job on Monday?”
“That bitch Tana fired me, mama. Fired me for no reason.”
“No reason? You robbed one of her customers. That’s a pretty good reason.”
“Pedro made me do it.”
Laughter. “You’re lying. Tell me one time you ever did anything Pedro told you to do.”
“I need a shower and I need to sleep.”
Blackmore Agency. Austin.
AFTER a long day in the cramped and dirty storage unit, Blaine looked forward to a shower
, a beer and a good dinner, in that order. When he arrived home, Misty’s car that she rarely drove was parked in the driveway.
Hope this is a friendly visit.
In the kitchen, a party was in progress. Misty and Carm were halfway through a bottle of Zinfandel, and Travis had three empty cans of Lone Star on the table at his elbow.
Strategically placed candles were burning, and Misty had her tarot cards spread out in front of Travis.
Hoodoo and Lexi greeted Blaine with a lot of licking and bouncing. At least the dogs were happy to see him.
Misty smiled at him when he entered the kitchen, stood up and gave him a big hug. “Hi, sweetheart, I’ll get you a Corona.”
“Thanks, Mist. I could use one.”
“I came over to see how the robbery thing was going. I know you’re looking for a murderer too. It’s muddy in my head, but I’m seeing some flashes.”
“I wish I had something you could work with,” said Blaine. “We searched through a lot of goods today in the storage unit, but we have to match items with what’s been stolen to make any of it useful.”
“I’m best with clothes or jewelry. Was any jewelry stolen?”
“Yes, from the victims in Westlake. The robbers took that lady’s jewelry out of her bedroom closet while she was asleep.”
“Let me think about it,” said Misty. “There must be a way.”
BLAINE was the only one still up when Farrell came back from surveillance on the Andrew’s residence. He grabbed a Lone Star out of the Sub-Zero and sat at the table where Blaine was staring at his laptop.
“You guys get anything useful?” asked Blaine.
“The tat girl that runs Austin Pros fired Juanita because she knows Juanita and whoever her buddies are robbed one of her customers.”
“Tana Nichol,” said Blaine. “She fired Juanita because she’s aware of the robberies but she’s not talking to us. Why is she protecting Juanita Andrews?”
Farrell shrugged. “Guess that’s a question we should ask her.”
“Damn right.”
