Final Table

by Carolina Mac

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Saturday, November 10th.

  Blackmore Agency. Austin.

  CARM placed a platter of ham and eggs over easy on the table and sat down to nibble at a piece of toast.

  “Do you want to pick out new fish today?” asked Blaine in Spanish.

  “Better to wait until it’s warmer,” she said. “I don’t want more to die.”

  “Okay, that might be wise. As soon as it warms up, we’ll get new ones. I think I’ll take Jackson with us when we go and let him pick one out for his own. He’s keen on having a Koi.”

  Carm smiled.

  Travis made an appearance at the table, dressed and wearing his harness like he was going somewhere.

  Blaine gave him the stink-eye. “Where in hell do you think you’re going?”

  Travis said, “I can work surveillance. It’s just sitting.”

  Blaine turned to Fletcher: “Half a day. Bring him back here no later than noon, no matter what kind of a bullshit argument he puts up.”

  “Yes, sir, boss.” Fletch gave a little salute.

  Austin Security Pros. Downtown Austin.

  WITHOUT waiting to be announced or escorted, Blaine stomped past the blonde at reception, down the short hallway and banged on Tana Nichol’s office door. Farrell was right behind him.

  She shouted, come in, but Blaine was already in, standing in front of her desk glaring down at her.

  “You knew Juanita Andrews robbed your client,” he hollered and pointed a finger in her face. “You knew, and you covered it up.” He tilted his head at Farrell. “You’re under arrest for obstruction. Take her Farrell.”

  Farrell was behind the desk snapping cuffs on Tana before she could spit out a single word. She struggled against Farrell, hollering curses, and tried to boot him in the shins with knee-high black patent shit-kickers.

  “I want my lawyer,” she hollered as Farrell hustled her towards the door. “I want a phone call.”

  Farrell turned to the blonde on reception. “Hold the fort, Miss. The boss is gonna be away for a while.”

  “Call Navaro,” Tana shouted over her shoulder.

  Farrell grinned as he stowed Tana in the back of Blaine’s truck and secured her to the seat ring. “We’ll get you a phone call after you’re booked, Miss Nichol. That’s the way it works.”

  “I know how it works,” she mumbled.

  Wonder if she’s got a sheet under a different name? Who’s Navaro?

  Coulter-Ross Ranch. La Grange.

  ANNIE sat on the floor of the great room playing with Charity. Jesse had surprised her with a visit and brought his year-old daughter with him. Annie loved Charity like her own.

  Jackson had gone to his room in search of more toys Charity might like, and Jesse took advantage of the opportunity to open up a risky topic.

  “I thought we were going to work out some kind of arrangement, Ace. One acceptable to both of us. I’d sleep here sometimes, and you’d sleep with me at Quantrall sometimes. When I moved home in no way did I give you up. We’re still a couple.”

  “Did you call and talk about the new arrangement? Or invite me over to Quantrall to see the baby and spend the night?”

  “Umm… no, I guess I didn’t. But I was going to.”

  “I’m not a mind reader, cowboy. You left and said we’d work things out, then I never heard another word from you on that subject.”

  “I’m sorry, Ace.”

  Her cell rang, and after checking the screen, she walked into the office to take the call. “Santana, how is Bianca doing?”

  “Much better. I’ve arranged with Andrea to live in for a couple of weeks and I’ll pay her extra. My mother is walking by herself a little, and insists she can be left alone, but I’d rather not.”

  “Not yet,” said Annie, “I agree. Are you coming back soon?”

  “A couple more days. I want to be sure she’s stable. I’ll let you know when I have a flight.”

  “Sure. I’ll pick you up.”

  When Annie returned to the great room, Jesse was picking up the toys. “I’d better get home. I’ve got a horse to train.”

  “Can’t you stay for lunch?” asked Annie. “The kids love it when Charity is here.”

  Jesse pointed to the office door and his voice took on an edge, “Was that him? Did you have to talk to him in private?”

  “I only asked him about Bianca.”

  “When’s he coming back?”

  “A few more days.”

  “Then what?”

  You’re angry for nothing, cowboy. I’m only doing my job.

  Annie shrugged and blinked back the tears.

  Andrew’s Residence. Austin.

  TRAVIS fidgeted on his stool and tried to get comfortable. “Been a while since I’ve been in the unit.” He pointed at the built-in equipment. “Beautiful thing, ain’t she?”

  “Sure is,” said Fletcher. “Ranger Quantrall has a big investment tied up in this truck and camper.”

  Travis took his headset off and turned on the audio. “I think the ladies are out of bed.”

  “Are you going to the employment agency this morning?”

  “Mama, can’t you give me one day to pull myself together? I’ve been in jail for chrissake.”

  “Don’t you lay any foul language on me, young lady. I’ve been the only one pulling my weight around here for too long.”

  “I’ll get a good job soon, mama. I swear it.”

  “Ask your boyfriend for a loan to tide us over.”

  “We can manage for a few more days.”

  “Ask him anyways. He’s rolling in it.”

  “Maybe I will. I’m meeting him for lunch.”

  “Good. Do it then.”

  “She’s meeting her boyfriend for lunch,” said Fletcher, and that ain’t Pedro because he’s in the lockup infirmary.”

  “I’m out of the loop and don’t know the players,” said Travis. “You need to bring me up to speed.”

  Ranger Headquarters. Austin.

  FARRELL took Tana Nichol to interrogation room four, secured her to the table and left her there while he used the washroom and got coffee.

  Blaine stood in the corridor outside the room and studied Tana’s body language through the one-way glass until his cell rang.

  “Travis?”

  “Yeah, boss. We got a possible meetup with Juanita and a guy she calls her boyfriend. She’s meeting him for lunch and her mother wants her to ask this guy for money.”

  “Sounds interesting,” said Blaine. “Keep tabs on her. This might be the break we need.”

  “Yep, we’re all over it.”

  “Once the lunch thing is over with Juanita, your work day is done. I want you back at the house for a long rest. No excuses.”

  “I swear,” said Travis.

  Blaine pressed end and Cat was the next caller. “How did the warrant go down?”

  “It went well, thanks. The unit was crammed full, so it will take ages to catalogue the contents and match to the stolen list. I’m hoping a weapon will turn up in one of the boxes, but I didn’t find one when I was there.”

  “Just checking, that was one reason and… I wanted you to talk to me.”

  “We’re talking. That’s progress, but I’m about to go into an interrogation, so I have to go.”

  Lily was the next caller. “Hammer is being released, boss. I’ll be out of the office while I pick him up and deliver him to his house. His mom is working.”

  “Good, he’s getting out. Do that, Lil. We’ve got stuff happening here at headquarters, so we’ll catch up later.”

  Farrell returned with three Styrofoam cups and Blaine held the door open for him. “Here we go, Miss Tana. Hot coffee for our guest.”

  Tana’s eyes narrowed. “Fuck you, cowboy cop.”

  Farrell grinned and took a sip of his coffee. “Let’s talk about Juanita.”

  “She’s trash and I fired her ass. Nothing more to say.”

  Blaine moved closer and leaned down on the
table. “I think there is more to say. A lot more. Why don’t you explain how you knew she robbed one of your customers? Did she tell you? Were you there during the robbery? Are you all part of the same gang of thieves? You must be, because you knew but you didn’t tell the police you knew. We asked you point blank about Juanita and you covered for her. Why did you do that?”

  “She already had a record,” said Tana. “I thought it would be bad for her.”

  “But you were only willing to go part of the way. You didn’t tell the police, but you fired her.”

  “My business is better off without her.”

  “That goes without saying. She’s a thief installing security panels and she probably has access to customer’s passwords.”

  “My girls are bonded.”

  “What?” Blaine hollered. “How in hell did Juanita get bonded with a record for armed robbery?”

  “I want to call my lawyer.”

  “Farrell, book Miss Nichol on the charges we discussed and show her to her overnight accommodation.”

  Angela’s Diner. Apache Springs.

  HONDO and Gage parked their rides and strode into the diner to warm up. Half frozen from riding the interstate for the last two hours they couldn’t make it another hour into the mountains without food and hot coffee. It wasn’t Harley weather.

  They hunkered down in a booth at the back of the diner, blowing on their frozen fingers and trying to thaw out.

  “Too cold to be riding, fellas,” said Angie. “Heard there was a lot of snow up in the mountains.”

  “Oh, yeah? asked Gage. “We been out of town.”

  “Where y’all been?”

  “Out of state on business.”

  Angie winked at him. “I can guess what kind of business you boys are into.”

  Gage tapped the menu with a half-frozen finger to stop the questions.

  “What can I get y’all?”

  “I’ll have the special,” said Hondo, “and can I have extra fries?”

  “Sure thing. Coffee or a cold drink?”

  “Coffee.”

  “Same for me,” said Gage.

  Angie returned with the coffee, leaned on the end of the table and said, “Been a lot of excitement in town. Sheriff Newcombe is officially a missing person.” She leaned in closer and whispered, “Big investigation going on. Little Ronnie’s gone too. His mother has lost her friggin mind.”

  “Don’t know the Sheriff,” said Gage. “Never had the pleasure.”

  Angie smirked. “And why don’t I believe that?”

  “She’s annoying as hell,” said Hondo, as Angie hurried back to the kitchen.

  “Forget it. She don’t know nothin.” He picked up his mug and drank the hot coffee down.

  “What if she does?” asked Hondo in a whisper. “Sheriff was always in here drinking coffee and shootin the shit with her.”

  The only other customer in the diner paid his bill and left. Angie returned with the coffee pot, filled up their mugs and dropped more creamers on the table.

  Gage prodded her. “Who’s investigating if the Sheriff is missing?”

  “Sheriff Dobson from the next county,” said Angie. “He was in here for breakfast with one of his deputies and I overheard him say they might have to call in the State Police if they don’t get a lead.”

  “Texas Rangers?” asked Hondo.

  “All cops are the same,” said Gage. To Angie: “Our food ready yet?”

  The Firkin Pub. East Austin.

  FLETCHER drove the surveillance unit slowly, keeping Juanita in sight as she walked four blocks to meet her lunch date. “Cold day to be walking in the wind.”

  “Maybe she don’t have a car,” said Travis. “No choice.”

  Juanita stepped inside the restaurant and Fletcher drove around behind to the parking lot. He glanced at Travis over the console and waited for a suggestion.

  “Go inside and get us a take-out order. Take pictures with your phone when Juanita and the guy ain’t looking. If you can hear them talking—good—but don’t give yourself away. As long as we can ID the guy for Blacky.”

  “Okay, what do you want to eat?”

  “Don’t matter,” said Travis. “Your call.”

  TRAVIS sat in the truck for twenty minutes, smoking and listening to the Austin country station. Before long, Fetcher returned with a bag of food and two Cokes. He set the bag on the console and climbed in with his phone in his hand.

  “Check these out. I think I got some good ones.”

  Travis flipped through the pictures. “Never seen the guy before. He’s wearing a suit. That’s weird for the crowd he’s running with.”

  “I better drive you back to the Agency or the boss will be on my ass,” said Fletcher.

  “You never want him on your ass, Fletch. He never forgets anything, and he’s more powerful in the state of Texas than you can imagine.”

  Fletcher’s eyes widened. “Doesn’t seem like it.”

  “That’s why you should be careful.”

  “Okay, I will be.”

  Blackmore Agency. Austin.

  BLAINE sat at the kitchen table eating the lunch Carm had made for him, Lily and Farrell.

  “How did Hammer seem when you took him home?” asked Blaine.

  “He was cheerful,” said Lily. “Had a bit of trouble with the crutches, but he was happy to be out of the hospital.”

  “What’s the prognosis?”

  “He won’t get a walking boot for a couple of weeks. It’s not really the entry wound, as I understand it, but they had to dig the bullet out of the bottom of his foot and he can’t put any weight on that foot at all.”

  “Fuck, Lil,” Farrell screwed up his face. “I’m eating a taco here.”

  Lily winked at him. “Forgot how sensitive you are, Farrell. Sorry.”

  Lexi ran to the front door on alert and Blaine snapped, “That better be Travis back here, or his ass is grounded.”

  Carm raised a dark brow over by the stove. She knew a lot of English, she just didn’t let on.

  Fletcher raced into the kitchen and set his phone down in front of Blaine. “These are the pictures I took of the guy Juanita met at the restaurant.”

  Blaine stared but didn’t recognize the dark-haired Hispanic guy. “Send them to my phone, Fletch. Sit down and have a taco.”

  He held up the bag in his other hand. “I had to order food while I was taking the pictures.”

  “Sure,” said Blaine. “Sit down and eat it. I’ll get you a fork.”

  Travis trudged in and eased into a chair.

  “How was the first day out?” asked Farrell.

  “I was out, and that’s what counts.”

  Blaine pointed a finger. “You eat, take your meds and sleep for a couple hours.”

  Travis nodded. “That’s what it feels like to me too, boss.”

  Blaine’s cell rang, and he picked it up and strode out into the foyer, so he could hear. “Mr. Fogarty, nice to hear from you.”

  “Just gave you a ring to see if you got the right guy. Couldn’t believe there was shooting in my own parking lot. Unbelievable.”

  “That vendor, Marko Balboa, shot one of my men. He wasn’t released from hospital until today.”

  “Umm… Marko’s been a regular vendor for a long time and never caused trouble. I think he shot at your guy because he was startled or something—don’t know why he’d do that. Some of his merchandise may be a little warm, but it was bothering me to think…”

  “You don’t think he’s the one?”

  “Don’t know, kid. Nailing Marko as the one for all the robberies in the hills and killing the lady when she woke up? Can’t picture it. I’m not on that page.”

  “What page are you on, Mr. Fogarty?”

  “My girl, Millie, just made a fresh pot of coffee.”

  “I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

  Fogarty’s New and Used. East Austin.

  BLAINE trudged up the steps to Fogarty’s office. He’d come alon
e as the day was half over and the boys deserved a little down time.

  The office door stood open, so he entered and sat down. The air smelled of pipe tobacco, but he’d never seen Herman smoke a pipe.

  “You look tired,” said Herman. “That red-head wearing you out?”

  Blaine tried to smile. “We had a fight.”

  “Too bad. She’s a hot number.” Fogarty poured a mug of coffee and set it on the desk in front of Blaine. “Cream?”

  “Yes, please. I could use a coffee.”

  Fogarty settled into his antique oak chair and let out a breath. “I meet a lot of people during any given week.”

  Blaine nodded as he sipped his coffee. “You would. This is a busy place.”

  “A few people, I’ve known for a long time and I’ve given them permanent space downstairs. A couple of antique dealers, who are friends of mine.”

  “Uh huh.” Blaine waited for it.

  “About a month ago, maybe a bit less, a fellow comes in and he wants to rent a permanent indoor spot. I say I don’t have any permanent spots open—full up—that’s the truth. And the guy gets mad—mad like he wanted to hurt me—that kind of mad.”

  “He seemed violent?” asked Blaine.

  Herman nodded. “But he didn’t hit me or anything. Thank God for that mercy. He turned kind of red in the face when I turned him down.”

  “And then he left?”

  “Yeah, he left, and I was glad. I have Bart if I need to call him. He’s my helper when I need stuff moved around inside or out. But I didn’t call Bart—I thought of it—but nothing happened.”

  “Did the guy tell you his name?”

  “He said to call if something opened up.” Herman pulled a big glass fish bowl full of business cards down off a cluttered shelf. “I put his card in there.”

  Blaine smiled. “Is it near the top?”

  “Can’t remember.”

  “What did the guy look like?”

  “Looked like you—not like you—but I mean Latino. Tall, slicked back black hair, and he was wearing a suit.”

  Second time today the guy was wearing a suit.

  Blaine pulled out his cell and scrolled to the pictures Fletcher had taken of Juanita’s lunch date. “Did he look something like this?” Blaine passed his phone to Herman.