Hole in the Heart

by Carolina Mac

  “Drive,” hollered Blaine.

  Farrell punched the gas and took off before his brother’s door was closed. Middle of the night and all the campers were sleeping. Not another vehicle in sight but traffic wasn’t the problem. Visibility was poor at best. Through the heavy mist, Farrell strained his eyes to follow Joey Golden’s taillights around the snake-like lake road that led to the gate of the campground.

  “The chain is up,” hollered Blaine.

  “He ain’t stopping and neither am I,” hollered Farrell. He lowered his window to clear the windshield and started the wipers.

  Golden didn’t slow at the gate. He smashed through the chain across the park entrance and veered right onto route 90.

  “He’s not going to Del Rio, he’s heading for the Amistad crossing,” said Blaine. “After the bridge there’s a bare stretch of road and you can take him.”

  Amistad International Bridge.

  FARRELL FOLLOWED closely behind as Golden turned at the signs for the bridge and approached the check point. When he reached the officers on duty at customs, Golden didn’t slow down. “He’s not stopping for a passport check,” hollered Farrell. “What do you want me to do?”

  “Stop and show your creds.”

  “Shit, shit, shit,” hollered Farrell as he held his creds out the window and slowed at the little booth. “In pursuit of a fugitive, sir. Got to go.” Farrell jerked his cred pack out of the guy’s hand and stepped on it.

  “We’ll fix it when we come back,” said Blaine. “You can catch him. This baby is way faster than a fuckin tow truck.”

  Farrell hit the open road on the other side of the crossing and put the pedal to the metal. “I see his taillights.”

  “No sweat,” said Blaine. “Not so much mist here on the other side of the bridge. I might see to make a shot.” He pulled his Beretta out of his waistband and got ready. “Get me close enough for a shot out the window.”

  Through the long empty stretch of road, Farrell gained ground. He was right behind the tow truck. Golden gave the big heavy truck all he could, and no way he could pull away from Farrell.

  With nobody coming the other way, Farrell made his move. “I’ve got this.” Farrell pulled out and gave ‘er. The big Chevy engine roared and the Silverado pulled along side the tow truck. Farrell held steady while the two trucks sped forward side by side. Blaine took aim.

  He pulled the trigger and popped Golden in the left side of the head.

  Bang.

  “Watch it,” hollered Blaine, “the truck’s gonna go.”

  Golden Towing veered to the right when Joey’s dead hands let go of the wheel. The big truck smacked through the guard rails and drove over a shallow embankment.

  Farrell braked and slowed, then made a U-turn back to the tow truck. He and Blacky booted it around to the driver’s side and Farrell shone his Maglite in the window. Joey Golden was dead behind the wheel. Blood and brains hung out of the side of his head and covered his face, his hands, the steering wheel and part of the windshield.

  With sirens blaring, a squad car stopped at the side of the road along with an SUV marked ‘border patrol.’ A uniformed officer approached the truck and shone his flashlight in Golden’s face. “Guess you got him, Rangers. What did this guy do?”

  “Raped and murdered about a dozen young girls.”

  “Jesus. He’s better off dead.”

  Devil’s Lake.

  AFTER TWO HOURS of sorting things out with police departments from both sides of the border, Joey Golden was taken temporarily to the morgue in Del Rio to be shipped to the morgue in Sonora at his earliest convenience. Sonora impound had confirmed that they would also send a tow for the truck.

  With the details out of the way and Farrell feeling some relief, they drove back to the campground as daylight broke over Devil’s Lake.

  Travis and Fletcher were already at the trailer with coffee and breakfast sandwiches for everyone.

  “Good move,” said Blaine as he accepted the large Starbuck’s container. “I was about to crack.”

  Travis gave Blaine a fist bump. “You guys got him. That’s what counts.”

  “Now we can go home,” said Blaine. “Let’s see if the girls are ready to leave.”

  “Umm…” said Farrell. “Avery had a bit of a different plan, bro. She wants to see her sister and say goodbye to her family before I take her to Austin.”

  “Uh huh, I can see that. They’ve been through hell the last little while. Go on up there first, then come home. You’ll be a few hours behind us and you’ll miss Hilder’s funeral, but it won’t matter.”

  “I’ll bring the dogs,” said Farrell, “y’all won’t have room.”

  “True enough. Have the boys hitch the trailer to your truck.”

  FARRELL and Avery were the last ones to leave. Avery did a final run-through the trailer making sure she had everything before they left. Blaine, Misty and the boys had left a few minutes before and would be back in Austin hours ahead of them. Even though Farrell was anxious to get home and introduce Avery to Annie and show Avery his home at Coulter-Ross he understood her need to say goodbye to the people she loved. Especially after what they’d all recently suffered.

  “I think that’s it.” Avery smiled at Farrell as she closed the door for the final time.

  “I’m happy, baby,” said Farrell. “And I haven’t been happy for a long, long time.” He leaned down and kissed her before he opened the truck door for her. “I want to make you happy too. Whatever it takes.”

  “I will be happy, Farrell. As soon as…” Avery looked over his shoulder and Farrell turned around and saw the oversize tow truck heading their way.

  “Is that Bud the landlord?”

  “I guess so,” said Avery. “I’ve never seen his big truck.”

  Farrell waved Larkin into the campsite in a friendly manner and didn’t expect the reaction he got.

  Bud Larkin jumped out of his truck waving a fist in Farrell’s face. “Goddam thieving women. I don’t want her living in my trailer another fuckin minute.”

  “Hey, hold on,” said Farrell. “Avery didn’t take your trailer.”

  “She sure as hell did. She was the tenant and it was fuckin gone wasn’t it?”

  Farrell turned and motioned for Avery to get in the truck. He grabbed Larkin by the neck of his shirt and twisted the fabric in his fist. “You shut your goddam mouth or I’ll shut it for you, asshole. Avery had nothing to do with what happened to your stupid piece of shit trailer. You hook on to it and go. Don’t let me see your ugly face again.”

  Bud grinned. “Or what? You’ll call the cops.”

  “I am the cops, you fuckin idiot. And today you are pissing off the wrong Texas Ranger. Say one more word and I’m gonna slam your ass in jail.”

  “Yeah, okay.” Bud backed off instantly. A sure sign he had something going on he didn’t want the cops to know about. “Sorry man. I’m outta here.”

  Bluebonnet.

  FARRELL DROVE north on route 277 for just a little over an hour before he came to Sonora. After spending considerable time here on the case, he was familiar with the town.

  “Do you want to stop for anything before we drive up to Bluebonnet?”

  “Nope, I’m fine, Farrell. You haven’t said much since we left the campground.”

  “Takes me a while to calm down after I’m pissed at somebody, that’s all it is.”

  “And you were pissed at Bud Larkin?” She smiled. “I thought you were. I barely know you, Farrell, but I want to know you inside and out if we’re going to be living together.”

  “When we get to Austin we’ll have lots of decisions to make. Right now, I live with my brother at the Agency. We live and work out of a huge Victorian house in the city.”

  “Does Misty live there too?”

  “Uh huh, she does. She has a house of her own, but she rarely goes there.”

  “I don’t understand anything about her,” said Avery, “but I like her a lot.”

&nb
sp; “Misty is psychic. She knows things other people don’t know, but not in a scary way. Blacky loves her.”

  Avery nodded. “I could see that when he looked at her. Why can’t she talk?”

  “A man tried to steal something from her. He hit her over the head and knocked her unconscious then he tied her up with black ribbon and locked her in a secret room in her house in New Orleans. When Luke and I found her, she was in a coma. The whack on her head did brain damage. At first, she couldn’t walk, but now she can a little. While she was locked up, she went too long without water and her throat was damaged. That’s why she can’t talk… at least, not yet.”

  Avery’s eyes welled up. “That’s so terrible. Your brother must have been half crazy with worry.”

  “He is a worrier. That’s a fact.” Farrell pointed at the entrance to the trailer park. “You’ll have to direct me to your mother’s house. I don’t know where it is from here.”

  “Next road take a left and it’s the third bungalow on the right.”

  After Farrell found the county road and turned the corner, Avery pointed. “It’s that white one with the little fence and the gravel drive.”

  Before they were out of the truck, Mrs. Dennison, Sylvie and little Diego were outside hugging Avery. Farrell stood by awkwardly wondering if he should be hugging them too.

  Mrs. Dennison shook Farrell’s hand. “Thank you so much for bringing Avery home, Ranger Donovan. And for saving Sylvie’s life. I don’t think I thanked you properly at the hospital.”

  “You’re welcome ma’am.”

  “Thank you,” said Sylvie. She beamed a smile at her small son, “And Diego thanks you too.”

  “Come in. Come in,” said Mrs. Dennison. “Let’s have some sweet tea and catch up, shall we?”

  Farrell looked to Avery to see what she wanted to do. She took him by the hand and led him inside. While her mother whipped around the kitchen getting glasses from the cupboard and more ice for the tea Avery took the leap.

  “Mom, Farrell and I love each other, and we’ve decided to live together.”

  Sylvie smiled at her sister. “That’s wonderful, Ave. About time you had a man of your own.”

  Mrs. Dennison sat down on a chair and took a deep breath. “I want you to be happy, sweetheart, but you haven’t known Ranger Donovan very long.”

  Farrell wasn’t sure whether to jump in and offer assurances or let Avery handle it. She knew her mother better than he did.

  “I’m sure, Mom. And you’re right, it hasn’t been very long, but we love each other, and I won’t be far away. Only in Austin and I’ll come visit you often, I promise.”

  Mrs. Dennison had a tear in her eye. “You’ve never even been to Austin, Avey. There’s a lot of crime in big cities.”

  “Mom, look what happened to me in Bluebonnet.”

  “You’re right. I’m being foolish.”

  “What about your truck, Avey?” asked Sylvie.

  “I’m picking it up and following Farrell to Austin. I’ll need my truck for work.”

  “You love your daughters, Mrs. Dennison, and your concern is natural,” said Farrell. He placed a card on the table. “You can call anytime.” He smiled. “We are the cops.”

  Mrs. Dennison smiled. “That’s right. You are the cops.”

  Austin.

  HILDER’S FUNERAL was a low key affair. Jeremy Hilder had chosen an adequate funeral home close to his residence. It was nice. Only nice as opposed to ‘I chose this one because I want to give my brother the sendoff he deserves.’

  Blaine found himself wishing he’d stepped in and made the arrangements himself, but Hilder wasn’t his brother.

  The entire staff of the Blackmore Agency sat in the third and fourth pews of the chapel along with Annie who’d driven Luke, and Cat who had come with two of her security men and avoided using the limo.

  Blaine was sandwiched between Cat on the outside of the aisle and Misty next to him on the inside. Carm was between Misty and Annie wearing a black hat that looked fantastic on her.

  Other than the large Agency showing, there might have been a dozen others. The only one Blaine knew was Roberto Santos. The last time they’d talked, the vibes he’d felt from the man bothered him, but he hadn’t figured it out and maybe never would.

  After the short service and a tearful eulogy given by Jeremy Hilder, the pastor invited everyone to Jeremy’s residence for coffee and cake.

  Cat was in tears as Blaine led her outside to her security team. “Are you coming to Jeremy’s house?”

  “Only for one coffee,” said Blaine as he walked with her towards the black Navigator she came in. “I’m working today.”

  Cat nodded. “That’s okay. I want to talk to you.”

  Blaine turned away from the SUV as it drove off and felt the vibration in the air before he heard the report. Women screamed, and Robert Santos dropped like a rock in front of the funeral home entrance.

  Blaine ran towards the fallen Santos and caught a glimpse of Annie running the other way. She crossed the green lawn and was heading up the street when Travis came around the corner of the building.

  “Trav, go help Annie,” hollered Blaine, hooking a thumb. “She went that way.”

  ANNIE stepped out the door of the chapel and saw the all-too-familiar glint of sun on a rifle barrel. The shooter was invisible in his nest directly across the street and high up in a tree. She shouted a warning at the same time the sniper fired, and nobody heard anything but the shot.

  The target dropped on the steps, and Annie skirted around the people staring in shock and wondering what had happened. She broke into a run hoping to knock down the shooter before he got too far from his tree. She breezed across the lawn in her high-heeled boots and caught sight of him running up the other side of the street. Instead of wasting time dodging parked cars and crossing the road, she ran up the side of the street she was on, kept him in sight and tried to gain on him. Cars and trucks were parked along both sides and she’d have to pick the right moment to get a clear shot.

  She caught up and was running parallel when he ran past a three foot space between cars. He turned his head to look at her and she had him.

  Bang.

  Got him. Annie didn’t shoot him in the head because Blaine would want the guy alive.

  The shooter dropped to the sidewalk clutching his leg and grappled for the gun he’d dropped in his fall.

  On the opposite side of the street, Travis caught up as the sniper fell and he kicked the gun out of the way.

  Annie crossed the street on the run with her Beretta still in her hand.

  Blood gushed out of the shooter’s leg and puddled on the sidewalk. Travis tried to avoid the blood as he bent down and cuffed the shooter’s hands in front of him.

  Annie stood beside Travis for a moment trying to catch her breath. She shoved her gun into the waistband of her Prada suit pants and straightened her jacket.

  “Nice job, A-girl. Couldn’t have done it better.”

  Annie winked at Travis and walked away before first response arrived on the scene.

  IN FRONT of the funeral home, Blaine backed the few remaining mourners away from the body and encouraged them to accept Jeremy Hilder’s invitation to go for coffee. The funeral home staff in matching black suits clogged the double front doors and cast longing looks at the corpse. Blaine shooed them back inside, thanking God or anybody else who was listening that the Governor was already long gone when the media began to arrive. After a few minutes of persuasion, the only spectators remaining at the scene were the Agency crew.

  The Medical Examiner busied himself with the body of Roberto Santos while the techs unloaded their gear. The cleaning staff of the funeral home would have their work cut out for them removing the lake of blood from their front step after the corpse was bagged and taken away.

  Annie returned from her little jaunt down the block walking as casually as if she’d gone to check out the flower beds.

  Blaine glanced up at her and she
nodded. “I’ll take all the ladies home,” she said.

  “Would you, Mom?”

  She hooked her arm through Luke’s good arm. “The ladies and my Lukey.”

  “I’m a lucky guy,” said Luke.

  Annie left, and Blaine headed down the street to see part two of the crime scene. He was down the block when Cat called his cell. “Where are you?”

  “Complication. I can’t come.”

  “I don’t know anybody, and I feel dumb here by myself.”

  “Drink a glass of wine, offer your condolences and go to my house. Annie took the girls home. I’ll be there later.”

  “Okay, I’ll do that.”

  Travis stood next to the shooter on the sidewalk watching the paramedics move him onto a stretcher. He looked up and saw Blacky crossing the street. “No ID on him boss and he ain’t volunteering anything.”

  “Stick with him. Secure him at the hospital and I’ll send a uniform to relieve you.”

  “Roger that, boss. I’ve got it.”

  Ranger Headquarters. Austin.

  BLAINE followed Doctor Mort Simon’s van as he transported Roberto Santos to the morgue at headquarters.

  “Bad funeral, boss,” said Fletcher. “Kind of an unexpected ending.”

  “A lot of bullshit floating around Roberto Santos and I haven’t got a handle on it yet.”

  “Think the ex-wife engineered this one too?”

  “If she did, she’s slicker than she looks. And she did it from her cell at DPS.”

  “Guess the boy is sitting at home waiting for his daddy,” said Fletcher. “Want me to go pick him up?”

  “You can go with Ruskin. She’s good at stuff like that. We’ll have to find a relative if we can.”

  “Now the kid has no parents.”

  “Happens,” said Blaine. “Nice boy, too.”

  Blaine tapped on the Chief’s door and stuck his head in. “Didn’t think I’d be here today, but here I am.”