by Carolina Mac
The kid grinned. “Sure, give me a sec and I’ll get her for you.”
Carm was on her knees examining a rose bush when the young lady in question came up behind them and spoke.
“You wanted help with a plan for y’all’s yard?”
Blaine turned to see who was talking to him, and his breath caught in his throat. Second time today he’d been blown away by an amazing looking woman. “Yes, please, if you could help with that.”
A tall, tanned girl with rainbow-colored hair stood in front of him. She wore hacked off denim shorts, a snug white tank that said ‘GREEN’ in big capital letters, and a pair of unlaced Kodiak’s. She jerked off an orange gardening glove and offered her hand to Blaine. “I’m Olivia Green and this is my nursery. My best suggestion is always an on-site plan. I’ll come over, take some measurements, discuss your preferences and take it from there. Far easier than guessing what will fit where.”
Blaine stared, trying to take in what he was seeing and barely listening to her. “Yeah, I guess it would be.” He explained it to Carm in Spanish and she seemed agreeable.
Olivia smiled, and Blaine felt warm and clammy. He glanced up at the September sun, wished he wasn’t wearing a black Harley shirt and tried to remember if he’d put deodorant on after his shower.
Olivia pointed to a long, low frame building that faced the street. “Come on inside to my office and we’ll set up a time.”
“Yep,” mumbled Blaine, “I need a time. That’s for damn sure.”
Inside, the building was much cooler but crowded with displays, the air laden with mixed scents from all the blooms. The space was loaded with indoor plants in pots, garden ornaments of every description—a lot of gnomes with fake smiles that gave him the creeps, fountains, bird houses and feeders, and a vast array of solar lights.
“Wow, you have a lot of stock,” said Blaine. He was following close behind Olivia enjoying the view and for a moment didn’t notice he’d lost Carm. “Hang on,” he said to Olivia, then went back to where Carm was mesmerized by water cascading down seven levels of rock into a Zen pool.
Blaine touched Carm’s elbow and she pointed. “It’s beautiful. Uh huh. Do you want a fountain in the yard?” he asked in Spanish, “We have tons of room. How about some fish?”
“Si, peces. Koi.”
“Bueno.”
Now we’re getting somewhere.
Olivia smiled as they walked into her office and sat in the customer chairs. “I thought you got lost.”
“Carm decided she wanted a couple of water features, in passing,” Blaine chuckled.
“And you’re okay adding them in?”
“Sure, I want her to enjoy her garden.”
Olivia opened a leather appointment book and said, “I can come at nine in the morning, or I can send Kenny, my assistant, later today.”
Is Kenny the guy who doesn’t know much?
Blaine ran the time past Carm and she nodded. “Nine in the morning will be fine for us.”
“I’ll need your name, address and a contact number,” said Olivia.
“Blaine Blackmore, and this is the address. I’ll jot my cell number down for you.”
Olivia raised an eyebrow when Blaine said his name but didn’t comment. “I’ll provide you with a plan to scale, and an alternate plan, even a third if you don’t like the first two. If you hire me to do the work and provide everything you need for your project, the plan is free. If you hire someone else, or decide not to go ahead, the plan will be five hundred dollars.”
“Got it,” said Blaine, “sounds fair.”
JESSE and Farrell sat in the well-worn guest chairs in front of Lieutenant Lopez’s desk in Austin homicide. “Got your own office now,” said Jesse. “Guess congratulations are in order.”
“Shit,” said Lopez, “took me years to get this far, and all I got was more work. Not sure if I like all the desk time I’m getting.”
“Your wife might like having you home for dinner now and then,” said Jesse.
Lopez shrugged. “I had Nielsen dig up a couple of opens that could jibe with your new girl.
“How old are they?” asked Farrell.
Lopez pushed the blue binders towards them. “One in April and one in July.”
“About three months apart,” said Jesse. “Could fit.”
“Both young girls, raped and strangled. Bad enough that they’re dead, but nothing kinky,” said Lopez.
“It’s too damn bad murders have to be different or freaky to be noteworthy,” said Jesse. “Sign of the times.”
“Yeah, I guess,” said Lopez. “You boys want to have a stab at them?”
“Your guys came up empty?” asked Farrell.
“It’s all in there,” said Lopez, “I read through both files and they’re well documented. Hope you solve them. We’ve got enough to keep us busy.”
Farrell picked up the binders and tucked them under his arm, so Jesse would have nothing to carry. “Might help both of us, Loot. Two less for y’all, and we solve ours.”
“Hope it works like that.”
Hyde Park Area. Austin.
MAX parked his Beemer in the garage like he always did. There wasn’t room for both vehicles with all the crap Renee had stored there, so she could park her truck on the driveway and like it.
Max patted the hood as he passed by his baby, inhaled a couple of deep breaths and walked in through the kitchen door. “Hi, Renee. I’m home.”
She sprinted down the hall from the family room where the noise level from the three kids and the TV was chaotic.
Max would go insane if he had to live like this one more day. He was sure of it. “Turn down the TV,” he hollered.
His wife had lost more weight on one of her string of cleanses and resembled a half-dead flamingo as she stood on one toothpick leg in front of him, dressed in pink Capri pants and poised to peck his eyes out. “Leave them alone, Max,” she shrieked. “The second you come in the door, you’re on their little backs. They can’t do a thing to please you.”
“Have they ever tried?” Max pushed past the flamingo and bullied his way to the liquor cabinet. He broke the seal on a fresh bottle of Texas Bourbon and poured himself a glass. “Don’t we have any ice?” He slammed the lid down on the empty ice bucket.
“What? I should fill the ice bucket just in case Max wants a drink? Why do you have to drink the minute you get home? What’s with you, Max? You never used to do that.”
“Things change, Renee.” He gulped down half the glass of bourbon and pointed at her. “You’ve changed most of all.”
Renee made that sneery face at him—the one he hated the most and she knew it— “I had to develop coping skills, Max. Coping skills, ever heard of those?”
“Must be what I need more of.” He refilled his glass.
“You’ll learn about coping and a lot more when we have our first session tomorrow morning.”
Max hurried away from her, down the hall towards his study.
What’s that fucking smell? Did she get new perfume?
“I have patients in the morning. The timing doesn’t work for me.”
She followed behind, harping on him. “You, Doctor Maxwell Endicott, will take the morning off to save your marriage.”
He sat down in his desk chair and glared at her. “And if I don’t?”
Renee leaned on the doorframe and a little smirk played around her thin red lips. “If you don’t, I’ll be taking a little trip to the police department to tell them what I know.”
Max felt his chest tighten.
What does she know? I’ve been careful.
“Know about what, Renee? What do you think you know?”
She giggled. “I’m not that stupid, Sexy Smile, and that’s all I’m saying.”
How in hell could she know about the dating site?
Blackmore Agency. Austin.
WELL after midnight when Farrell returned from his first foray into online dating and Blaine was waiting up for him with coffee
or beer, depending on the outcome.
Lexi barked once, and Blaine shushed her. “Don’t wake Carm up. He reset the alarm in the front foyer and followed his foster brother into the kitchen. “Well?”
“Well, what? Let’s have a beer.”
“Didn’t turn out so good?”
“She lied a little on her profile and put her friend’s picture on,” said Farrell, “So I’d have to say, not so good. I bought a pricy dinner for a skinny, ugly chick who corrected all my grammar mistakes.”
“Fuck,” said Blaine.
“Wouldn’t want to go there,” said Farrell. “Even with the lights out.”
Blaine chuckled and headed for the Sub-Zero.
After several beers with his brother, Blaine climbed into bed reflecting on the events of the day. He’d met two beautiful girls by chance. If he let both of them get away there had to be something seriously wrong with him.
Tomorrow was a new day, and he’d make a definite effort to get a date.
He closed his eyes and his cell rang on the nightstand. Who calls at one in the morning? He had to check because it might be important.
Misty.
He let it go to message.
CHAPTER FOUR
Thursday, September 6th.
Blackmore Agency. Austin.
SHOWERED and dressed by seven, Blaine sat at the window alcove in the kitchen staring into the yard thinking hard about Olivia Green. She could have a husband or a boyfriend. With looks like hers, she probably had both.
Will I ever find somebody I can love—like really love in my soul—like I love Annie? I know that’s what’s wrong with Farrell too. He can’t help it any more than I can. Mary noticed and called him on it.
Blaine looked away from the window when he realized Carm was asking him about breakfast. He nodded, and she went to the fridge for a carton of eggs.
Farrell dragged into the kitchen looking sleepy-eyed and tired. He filled a mug with coffee and sat down opposite Blaine. “What are we working on today, boss?”
“Carm and I have the landscaper at nine. You and Jesse can tear apart the two older cases with Lil, and I hope to hell y’all get something, then Travis and I will go to the funeral at eleven. We’ll meet here at one for lunch and see what we’ve got.”
FIVE after nine, and Blaine had checked his watch for the tenth time. He wanted to wait for her on the front porch but reconsidered thinking a move like that would look a little too obvious. He’d play it cool. As if. He didn’t have a cool bone in his Latino body.
I’m no fuckin good with women. Let’s face it. I haven’t got one goddam clue how to talk to them. Piss on Mars, I’m way out near Pluto—which I still consider to be a planet no matter what the assholes say.
Lexi barked, and Blaine jumped off his chair, totally pissed off thinking of the downgrading of Pluto. Funny how weird things made him so fuckin mad.
The new gate system was kicking up a few problems, and now was not the time for the damn thing not open properly. Fuck, he was sweating, and he hadn’t even gone out the door.
When he heard her voice over the intercom, his mouth went dry and he couldn’t answer.
Get it together.
He pressed the button and the gate opened smooth as silk. He bolted outside with Lexi to meet Olivia Green.
Olivia parked her green pickup, the load bed crowded with bushes and plants, and hopped out wearing ripped jeans and another GREEN t-shirt. Her rainbow hair was half-hidden under a matching GREEN NURSERY ballcap.
Blaine walked towards her with a half-finished coffee in his hand. “Would you like a coffee before you start?”
“No, I’m okay, thanks. I always have bottled water in the truck. It’s been a hot summer.”
“Where do you want to start?”
“Let’s go once around to get a feel of the size and shape, then we’ll get into details.” She flipped up a clean page on her graph pad. “This is a huge property. Was there another house over there? It looks freshly bulldozed.”
“Uh huh. I had it torn down.”
If she had a reaction, her reflector shades hid it.
“Must be about an acre here now, maybe a little more. Okay, let’s walk. Does your mother want to join us?”
“Umm… Carm isn’t my mother, but she’s busy right now making breakfast for my men. She’ll join us later.”
Olivia finished her walk-about at the front and they headed down the driveway towards the back. The doors of the carriage house were open, and she paused to peek at Jack and the Junkers renovating the interior. “You have a lot of projects going on.”
Blaine nodded. He could barely speak in her presence. The scent of her perfume mixed with that earthy smell she gave off made him antsy. “An old place needs a lot of help.”
Olivia smiled. Her first one since arriving, and he melted. “The fencing is magnificent,” she said, “nothing like wrought iron for stability and longevity. Once the proper plantings are in place, the property will soar in value.”
“I’m not too concerned with soaring values,” said Blaine, “although I guess that’s a plus.”
“I take it y’all are planning to stay here long term?”
Blaine shrugged. “Never know what life might hand you.”
“True.”
“One thing Carm does want is a vegetable garden or space allotted for one. I forgot to mention that.”
“I’ll make a note of it.” She glanced around. “Lots of room for one. Raised beds are nice too. Not so much bending.”
Olivia whipped her orange Lufkin off her belt and handed one end to Blaine. By the time they finished taking all the measurements she wanted, they were both drenched in sweat.
“How about a beer before you leave?” asked Blaine. “You need to cool down some.”
She smiled. “Y’all drink beer in the morning?”
“Anytime is a good time.”
“Okay, I’m always up for a new experience.” She checked her phone for messages. “I’ve got time for one.”
Blaine led the way through the back door, past the offices and into the kitchen. He pointed at the table in the alcove. “Have a seat.”
“This is a gorgeous kitchen.”
“Thank you.” Blaine took two Lone Stars from the Sub-Zero and a glass from the cabinet. He set his beer on the table and poured the other can slowly down the side of the glass.
“You’re a gentleman.”
“In a small way.”
“I know who you are,” she said as she took the glass from him. Their fingers touched, and Blaine felt the connection.
“I’m nobody special. Just me.”
“I have a Harley.” She slugged down half her beer and Blaine got the distinct feeling it wasn’t her first morning beer experience.
Is she playing me?
“Get much chance to ride?” He watched her across the table and tried to get a read on her expression.
“No one to ride with, and that’s why I mentioned it. Maybe we could take the bikes out sometime.”
Blaine gave her a half smile. “And you know I have a bike?”
“Everybody knows you have a bike, Mr. Blackmore, just like everybody knows you’re a sharpshooter, a supreme hard-ass crime fighter and the sexiest guy in Texas.”
Blaine chuckled. “I better have another beer.”
Denton and Lynley, Marriage Counsellors. Austin.
STANDING at the coffee station in the corner of the waiting area, Max filled a Styrofoam cup with a dark liquid that was supposed to pass for coffee. He added two packets of the powdered creamer he detested and stirred until the color lightened.
I have to get this nightmare over with and then decide what to do about Renee.
He returned to the chair next to his wife and surveyed the other two couples waiting their turn to be analyzed and shredded. One pair looked too old to care anymore whether they got along or not, and the other couple looked about the same age as he and Renee—late thirties—maybe that was peak trouble
time.
“Didn’t you pour me a coffee?” asked Renee, loud enough for everyone to hear.
“Here, take mine,” said Max. “Sewer water, that’s all it is.”
Before Renee had time to take the coffee, the receptionist stood in front of the gallery desk with a folder in her hand and said, “Doctor and Mrs. Endicott, this way please.”
Max set the cup on the table and happily abandoned it.
The chunky assistant with an owl tattoo on the back of her calf showed them into a long, thickly carpeted room with a dark wood desk at one end, a seating area in front of a triple window and at the opposite end, a circle of eight or ten chairs. Max eyed the circle and felt the heat rise in his neck.
Fucking group session. No way in hell.
A tall woman in a beige linen suit entered from another doorway and beamed a smile at them. “I’m Liz Mitchell. You can just call me ‘Liz.” She pointed to a couple of club chairs in front of her desk. “Have a seat, make yourselves comfortable and we’ll get started.”
Wonder how much this is costing me?
Max sat frozen in his chair for the next hour. Renee jabbered on, highlighting all his faults, how he worked too much, ignored her and the children, and every other way imaginable Max had failed in the marriage.
Liz nodded her head like a bobblehead doll and wrote notes at the same time.
A couple of times when Renee ran out of wind, Liz pointed the end of her pen at him and asked if he would care to comment, and of course, he didn’t.
Finally, the hour was up, and they exited the building. Renee fumed as they walked to their separate cars in the parking lot. “Thanks for nothing, Max. You didn’t participate. You didn’t even try. If you don’t do a lot better at our next session, you know what will happen.”
Max grinned as he turned the key in the Beemer.
Sure do.
Blackmore Agency. Austin.
JESSE and Farrell took the murder books into the dining room and set themselves up at opposite ends of the table with notepads and coffee.
Jesse took Nicole Savoie, a dark-haired girl, twenty years old working as a veterinarian’s assistant. She was raped and strangled behind a bar and her body was found near the river. He spread the crime scene photos across the table and stared at them.
