Hole in the Heart

by Carolina Mac

  Farrell. She mouthed the word and Blaine picked up his cell. He walked over to the window and called. “What’s going on in Sonora, bro?”

  “Uh huh.” Blaine listened to the latest details. “I’ve got a meeting with the Chief and if I can, I’m gonna come out there and help y’all.”

  9:30 a.m.

  ON THE WAY to headquarters, Blaine brought Travis and Fletcher up to date on the troubles Farrell was having.

  “That’s why he dug into that case in the first place,” said Travis, “because he was so taken with Avery Dennison, the missing girl’s sister. Now he got the sister back and the maniac has taken Avery.”

  “Uh huh,” said Blaine, “I didn’t know Farrell was involved personally. He never lets that happen.”

  “I don’t think he let it happen, boss,” said Travis, “It just happened and caught him short.”

  Blaine pointed to a Starbucks. “We better drive through and get the Chief some decent coffee. He’s been antsy and in a foul mood about the gang thing.”

  “Heard on the morning news about the Escalade blowing up,” said Fletcher. “That the same one that tried for us?”

  “Sure was. The tag was about the only thing in one piece,” said Blaine, “even though it was across the street in a tree.”

  Fletcher laughed. “You shittin me?”

  “Gospel,” said Blaine.

  “How many dead?” asked Travis.

  “Four,” said Blaine. “Just the four lucky enough to ride in the big Caddie.”

  The Chief was somewhat appeased by the coffee tray and the bag of pastries, but he wasn’t smiling.

  “Something else get fucked up while I was on my way here?” asked Blaine. “You look pissed.”

  “I’m transparent,” mumbled the Chief. “As if we don’t have enough going on.”

  “Okay,” said Blaine, “let me have it. What else is getting dumped on us?”

  “A golfer was found this morning beaten to death with his own driver and his wallet was gone.”

  “Isn’t that one for Lopez?” asked Blaine.

  “Catherine called asking if you could take it because she has a personal interest.”

  “Fuck,” hollered Blaine, “was it some other guy she was screwing?”

  The Chief managed a smile. “No, the same guy.”

  Blaine took a second to sort it out. “You’re telling me somebody killed John Hilder?”

  “I guess that’s what I’m trying to say,” said the Chief. “The media are going nuts.”

  “Where?” Blaine tipped his head towards Fletch to take notes.

  “Barton Links.”

  “How the hell could Hilder afford the green fees there?” asked Blaine. “He’s unemployed, for chrissake.” He slapped his forehead with his hand. “Don’t tell me.”

  “Catherine tried to call you, but your phone was turned off this morning,” said the Chief.

  “I was at the car bombing. Four arrogant Aryans fried in their Escalade. Shame about the vehicle. I was thinking about getting me one of those.”

  “Nah, boss,” said Travis. “Navigator.”

  “Range Rover,” said Fletch, “like Jesse has.”

  “Let’s go guys. I’m thinking about taking up golf.”

  10:00 a.m.

  Bluebonnet. Texas.

  FARRELL was on his way to Avery’s trailer to take a closer look at the inside and see if he had overlooked some secret message she might have left for him.

  Luke tried to talk sense, but Farrell wasn’t buying. “If she was taken from her place of work, she wouldn’t have gone back to her trailer for any reason, would she?”

  “Maybe he let her get some stuff and she…” Farrell shook his head. “I don’t even know what the fuck I’m saying.”

  They were halfway to Bluebonnet when Mrs. Dennison called. “Sheriff Oxford gave me your number, Ranger Donovan. I wanted to call and thank you for finding Sylvie. I’m staying with her at the hospital right now and I’m so happy.”

  “And you have the little fellow with you?” asked Farrell.

  “Yes, I thought Sylvie would be anxious to see him.”

  “How is she today?”

  “Sleeping a lot, but she did speak to Diego for a few minutes.”

  “We need to obtain her statement,” said Farrell, “when she’s up to it.”

  “I know Avery will be thrilled when she gets off work. I tried her cell last night and this morning, but I can’t get hold of her.”

  She ain’t at work but I ain’t telling you that.

  Farrell slowed as he drove through the little village of Bluebonnet and made his way to the trailer park. He drove through the gate made a right and another right and stopped dead. He thought if he was ever gonna have a fuckin infarction it was at that moment.

  “Her trailer is gone,” said Luke.

  Farrell jumped out and stared at the cement blocks and the water hookup and the line for the septic. The slab for the front step was there. The flower beds were trampled, and the purple pansies had seen better days. He bent down and picked a flower, held it to his nose and smelled it.

  He staggered back to his truck and Luke was already on the phone changing the BOLO alert to include a sixty foot trailer.

  “If he took the trailer,” Farrell mumbled, “he’s heading for the border.”

  “You would think so,” said Luke. “I’ll alert border crossings in case he’s running, and all state parks and campgrounds in case he’s holing up and not running.”

  “Yeah, cover all the bases,” said Farrell. “About all we can do.”

  “Do you think we should go to the hospital and tell Mrs. Dennison in person?” asked Luke.

  “Jeeze,” said Farrell, “that’s the last thing I want to do.”

  10:30 a.m.

  Austin. Texas.

  BLAINE trudged across the third fairway to a stand of trees where all the activity seemed to be centered. He stopped and stared down at John Hilder with his head bashed in, a bloody Cobra King lying next to him. Former army ranger and former Agency employee with a penchant for redheads. Who in Austin would want to kill him? Was it because of Cat?

  “His wallet was here, but the money and cards were gone?” asked Blaine. The wallet was in an evidence bag with his truck keys, the bag lying beside the body.

  “Cards are still there but no cash.” The Medical Examiner’s assistant, Tim, hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “His cart is right over there. The lab will check it, and we might pick something up.”

  “How much cash would he have on the golf course.” It wasn’t a question. “Doesn’t look like a robbery to me,” said Blaine. “Have there been any others?”

  “You mean with golf clubs?” asked Rocky. Ranger Rockford sometimes worked with robbery detail. He was the Chief’s go-to. “Nope. Lots of crazy stuff like power tools and shit, but no golf clubs.”

  Blaine screwed up his face. “They’re committing robberies with power tools?”

  “It’s a thing,” said Rocky.

  “Fuck me blind,” said Blaine. “Any other golfers around when this happened?”

  “Not that we know of. One of the gardeners found him.”

  “Is it usual to golf alone?” asked Blaine. “I thought people were in groups. In the tournaments Carm watches on TV there’s always two or four.”

  Rocky shrugged. “Usually two or four but you can have at it alone if you want to. Not as much fun.”

  “Hilder wasn’t a fun guy,” said Blaine.

  Travis nodded. “Maybe not for you, boss, but some people found him fun.”

  Blaine rolled his eyes and strode over to the two-wheeled cart. He pulled on a pair of latex gloves and looked through the pockets. Balls, tees, one Michelob Ultra—not too cold—a towel and Hilder’s cell phone. Blaine flipped through the messages.

  One from Cat. “Are you coming here after your game? I’ll make you a late lunch.”

  Blaine replaced the phone in the pocket of the bag with Travis and Fletc
h waiting to hear if he found anything useful. “One message from her.” He replaced the phone. “The techs will find it if there’s something to find, but I doubt there is.”

  When they reached the parking lot, the crowd of reporters had grown. “What’s going on, Ranger B? We heard there was a murder out on the course.”

  “As soon as the next of kin has been notified, I’ll have something for y’all. Let me get that done and I’ll have Mary send you an email later in the day.”

  “Was it a shooting?” hollered one of the female reporters.

  “Nope. No guns involved and no details until later,” said Blaine. He tossed Travis the keys to the big diesel. “You drive to Colorado Street. I want to call Farrell and get an update. We need him and Luke back here. With this new investigation coming down on us, we’re gonna be short.”

  11:00 a.m.

  Sonora. Texas.

  FARRELL and Luke were parking at the Sonora hospital when Blaine called. “Yeah, boss. Sorry I haven’t been keeping in touch. A lot of shit going on.”

  “Tell me how much more time you need. We caught a new one this morning and with the gang thing going on, I need you back here.”

  Farrell explained about Avery and her trailer being gone.

  “Sounds like you’ve covered all the bases that could be covered. Get the sister’s statement, finish up the paperwork with Sheriff Oxford and come home. If you get a sighting on the tow truck or trailer, we’ll all head out to look for her.”

  “Uh huh. I got it.”

  Jeeze, I hate to leave. It feels like I’m giving up on her.

  “If you have a better plan, tell me what it is,” said Blaine.

  “I fuckin don’t but wish I did.”

  “Okay, then, I’ll see you for dinner. Carm will be happy to see you.”

  Farrell turned to Luke. “We have to get Sylvie Dennison’s statement, finish with Oxford and check out of the hotel. We’re being recalled.”

  SYLVIE DENNISON was sitting up in bed when Farrell and Luke reached the hospital. Her mother, a young looking woman in her fifties with dark hair like Sylvie’s, sat in the chair beside the bed. Robin Dawson’s bed was empty. They’d been informed by the nurse on duty that Robin had been discharged, and her roommate, Brooke Morales, had picked her up an hour earlier.

  Farrell smiled at Sylvie and marveled at how much she looked like her sister although their coloring was different. Sylvie was still extremely pale, and her eyes were puffy and red from crying, but they were both pretty girls.

  “I’m happy you’re feeling better, Miss Dennison,” said Farrell. “We have to take your statement for the record, if you don’t mind.”

  When Sylvie spoke, her voice was weak, and Farrell had to lean closer to hear her. “Why hasn’t Avery been to see me? I was asking Mom if she was here when I was sleeping. I don’t remember her being here.”

  “We’ll talk about that later,” said Farrell. He beckoned to Mrs. Dennison. “Can we talk for a moment in private, ma’am?”

  “All right.” She got up to follow Farrell and Luke took the chair and prepared the recorder for the statement.

  “What is it, Ranger Donovan?” asked Mrs. Dennison. “Where is Avery?”

  Farrell didn’t begin his story until they were down the hall in a deserted waiting area. “I hesitated to tell you this yesterday, fearful that it would be too much of an overload, but someone picked Avery up from the ranch where she works, and I haven’t been able to contact her.”

  Mrs. Dennison tilted her head to one side. “Wonder who that would be? I’ve been trying her phone too and wondered when she was going to return my calls. When she didn’t come to pick up Diego last night I thought she might be going out with friends after work. She does that sometimes, but usually calls to tell me where she’ll be and who she’s with. I worry about my girls.”

  Farrell nodded wondering how much the mother could handle after just getting one daughter back from the brink. “I have people out looking for Avery and we’re hoping to find her soon.”

  “Who would she leave work with?” asked Mrs. Dennison. “I’ve never known her to do that. She never misses work. Mr. Rayburn depends on her.”

  “There’s another problem,” said Farrell. “I drove up to check on her earlier today and… in the trailer park…” Farrell took a deep breath and let it fly. “Her trailer is gone.”

  Her mother wore a quizzical look like he was trying to trick her or something. “That’s impossible. It doesn’t move. It’s sitting up on concrete blocks.”

  “I wanted you to be aware in case you dropped by there,” said Farrell. He headed down the corridor to Sylvie’s room.

  She doesn’t believe me and that’s okay for now.

  Luke was finishing up when Farrell arrived to collect him. “Ready, partner?”

  “All done.” To Sylvie: “Thank you, and I hope you’re out of here soon.”

  12:00 Noon.

  Austin.

  BLAINE spoke to Cat’s security men outside the Governor’s Mansion, then parked and tapped on the door. Emily, the housekeeper he was particularly fond of welcomed the three of them into the foyer.

  “Nice to see you Ranger Blackmore. It’s been a while.”

  I’m trying to give myself breathing room from Cat.

  He introduced Fletcher and Travis even though they’d been there a few times before. “We’ve been busy,” he said. “Is the Governor upstairs?”

  “Make yourselves comfortable in the sitting room and I’ll let her know you’re here. She wasn’t feeling well earlier and didn’t eat any breakfast.”

  Blaine nodded and wondered if Catherine had wine for breakfast like she sometimes did. Whenever there was stress, Cat hit the bottle. Old habits are hard to break.

  “Think she’s gonna be sad about Hilder?” asked Travis. They settled into velvet wing chairs in the elegant room, decorated in shades of blue.

  “Depends how involved they were, I guess,” said Blaine. “It hasn’t been that long since I fired him.”

  “What about the notification?” asked Fletcher. “We doing that too?”

  “I’ll call Lil when we leave here and get his details from his file if Cat doesn’t know who John’s next of kin is.”

  Emily returned with a tray of hot coffee and muffins. “Governor Campbell will be down in a few minutes.” Emily looked like she had more to say but didn’t.

  Ten minutes passed before a bedraggled-looking Governor shuffled through the French doors into the sitting room wearing a wrinkled gray track suit that she might have slept in. Her green eyes were red-rimmed, her dark red hair hung long and tangled over her face. She dabbed at her eyes with a wad of tissues.

  Blaine crossed the room and grabbed her in a hug. Cat reeked of booze and it wasn’t wine. She was hitting harder than that. “I’ll pour you a coffee.” Blaine placed her on the sofa with a firm hand. “Sit down here.” He fixed her a coffee and handed her a warm muffin in a napkin. “I want you to eat that muffin and drink a couple cups of caffeine.”

  Shit, I’m babysitting again.

  The Governor ate the muffin and got the first cup of coffee down before she said a word. “Did you see him?”

  Blaine nodded. “Uh huh. The notification is next. Do you know anything about his family?”

  She shook her head. “We hadn’t got that far.”

  “I can get it from the office.”

  “Was he shot?” asked Cat.

  “No.” Blaine shook his head and didn’t offer anything else.

  “Why was he golfing alone?” asked Travis.

  “He was that kind of guy,” said Cat. “A loner, but he enjoyed golf. He said it was his one true passion.”

  “Okay,” said Blaine. “He was playing on a pricey course and he wasn’t working, was he solid financially?”

  “Money was never a problem when we went to dinner, but that was only three times at the most. We… tried to stay out of the public eye.”

  “Good plan,” said Blain
e, wondering if she’d already blown it and would show up on the front page of some rag at a later date. “Did he mention job interviews or anything he was into other than golf?”

  “Yes. He talked about it. He took on an investigation job for a friend of his.”

  “Doing what?” asked Blaine.

  “His friend’s ex-wife had taken their child.”

  “Hilder was investigating a parental kidnapping?”

  “I guess that’s what it would be,” said Cat.

  “Did he mention his friend’s name?”

  She nodded her head and seemed to be thinking hard about it. “I think his name was Robert… someone he knew in the army.”

  “Did Hilder keep files?” asked Travis.

  “I’ve never been to his condo. He rented one out by the lake.”

  “Okay, we’ve got enough to start on,” said Blaine. “Finish your coffee, go back to bed and when you get up—start fresh—a hot shower and do some girl stuff—like nails or shopping,” said Blaine. “Shit like that.”

  Cat giggled. “You always cheer me up.”

  12:30 p.m.

  ANNIE drove to Austin after lunch. She cruised by the C-4 clubhouse to check on the level of activity and a work van was parked out front. Two guys wearing hard hats were replacing the glass in the windows. The blackened Escalade had been removed and all that was left was the stink of burnt rubber in the air and a scorched patch on the parking area.

  From the clubhouse she drove north to Blaine’s house to see Declan and to put in time until the workmen were gone. On the way, she called Ty to catch up.

  “Jesse ain’t even talking to me,” said Tyler. “I think I’d better mind my own.”

  “Yeah, sure,” said Annie. “You can’t stand up to your brother and have lunch with a friend? See you around.” She pressed end and felt her blood bubble up to two hundred and twelve degrees.

  2:00 p.m.

  BLAINE ARRIVED at the Agency to regroup and drop the boys off to pick up wheels. He smiled when he saw Annie’s old blue Ram parked next to the house.

  “Hey, Mom’s here.” Blaine cheered up considerably and clawed his way up a level in the Misty swamp hole of depression he’d been wallowing in since New Orleans. He tore up the front steps and greeted the barking dogs with hugs. “My Mom’s here,” he hollered again.