by Carolina Mac
FARRELL unlocked his truck and noticed Mary across the street with a clutch of reporters. Standing under a streetlight, her pretty face glowed. She gave him a little wave and he waved back and slid behind the wheel.
Blaine had the passenger door open ready to get in when Farrell said, “You gonna say anything to that bunch across the street?”
“Should I?”
“You usually do,” Farrell grumbled. “That’s why they love you so fuckin much.”
“Shut up.” Blaine closed the truck door and walked across the road. “Hey, people.”
A camera man turned on a light bright enough to blind him and a male reporter stuck a mic in his face. “Mr. B. can you tell us anything about the murder victim?”
“Unfortunately, not yet. His next of kin haven’t been notified. Y’all catch up with me at DPS tomorrow morning after the autopsy and I’ll have some details.”
“Thanks, Mr. B.”
“Mary, can I see you for a sec?”
Mary stepped away from the others. “You need me for something?”
“Uh huh. I need to run a photograph. I’ll have it for you in the morning.”
“Sure.” She glanced across the road at the red truck. “How’s Farrell?”
“Miserable. How about you?”
“Same.”
“Should y’all talk?”
She nodded. “We should.”
“Why don’t you work on that.”
Mary gave him a smile. “Thanks, Blaine.”
“What did Mary say?” asked Farrell as Blaine jumped in the truck.
“She said she’s as miserable as you are.”
“No way to fix it,” said Farrell. “No use trying.”
“Why not?”
Farrell shrugged and pulled away from the curb.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Saturday, September 22nd.
Blackmore Agency. Austin.
LARRY APPLETON’S emails flashed onto the screen. Blaine had no trouble gaining access because he had set up all the computers at Powell and Associates with his own password as a security measure. He’d always been able to view anything any his attorneys were working on at any time.
Thinking Larry might have deleted his emails to and from Renee, he was surprised they were still there. He opened them and read the back and forth between the two of them, then printed hard copies.
The firm trust account showed that the check had been deposited from the insurance company, so Larry hadn’t had time to authorize a check to himself.
An amount that large, Mike Wannacott would have had to sign off on, and he would have had to clear it with me first. How did Larry plan on getting around those little details?
Blaine gave a shout out for Farrell and showed him the last email from Renee to Larry. “Hey, bro, look at this.” Blaine pointed to the line where Renee said she would kill Larry. “Is that solid enough for you?”
Farrell chuckled. “You’re warming up. I give you that much. I need coffee.”
Blaine hollered after Farrell, “Whose changing off with Jack watching her house?”
“Greg,” said Farrell, as he stuck his head back in the door, “and they put a BOLO out on the Beemer last night. She switched vehicles.”
“Her father thinks she’s coming back, but I wouldn’t bet on it,” said Blaine. “She’s in the wind.”
Lily came in to see if Blaine needed a refill on his coffee, and they talked about the emails. “He was an embezzler and a crook,” said Lily, “and he was always hitting on me. What a creep.”
“You never liked him, did you?”
She made a face. “Nothing to like.”
Blaine laughed.
Quantrall Ranch. Giddings.
ANNIE had arrived home too late from the airport to tell Jesse she was home. He needed his rest and she wouldn’t wake him unless it was important.
After breakfast she drove up to Quantrall to surprise him and he was in the training ring working with a one-year-old filly. Annie stood in the doorway and watched with admiration. Jesse Quantrall was now and had always been the best horseman in Texas, even when he wasn’t in competition.
Jesse turned at the end of the arena and saw Annie as he galloped towards her. He pulled up on the reins and dismounted wearing a big smile. “Hey, my beautiful wife is back.” He grabbed her in a hug and kissed her.
“I missed you, sugar,” said Annie.
“How did the boys do with the search for Mrs. Endicott?”
“We found her, but she got ahead of us. Blaine thinks she rushed back to Austin and killed Larry Appleton.”
“Larry Appleton, the lawyer? Why in hell would she do that?”
Annie shrugged. “Don’t know. You better catch up with your crew and get the details.”
“Uh huh. I’ll do that.” Jesse led the spotted beauty out of the arena and into her stall and Annie followed.
“Where’s Charity?” she asked.
“In the office with Ty. He set up a play area for her.”
“I’ll check it out while you cool that girl down.” Annie tapped twice on the office door and stuck her head in. “Hey, I heard my baby girl was in here.”
Charity, sitting next to Tyler in the middle of a pile of toys, looked up when she heard Annie’s voice. “Mama,” she hollered and got to her feet.
“Y’all aren’t gonna take my baby away again, are y’all?” Tyler sounded heart broken. Jesse had said Tyler wasn’t happy that Charity left Quantrall the first time.
“Nope,” said Annie, “Just giving her a hug.”
“Good,” said Ty, “now that she’s home, that’s where she’s gonna stay.”
Wonder what Jesse thinks about that?
Annie wandered down the wide aisle to the stall Jesse was working in and leaned on the wall watching him brush the filly.
“I can see that your time at home has done you the world of good,” said Annie.
Jesse turned and smiled. He was tanned and that sick, drawn look had vanished from his handsome face. “Can’t put it into words, Ace. Feel tons better.”
“This is where you belong, cowboy. I was selfish keeping you at my place, thinking it was the best thing for you and the baby.”
“I love being with you, Ace. You’re my wife and I love it that we’re finally together—every day and every night.”
“But?”
“But on the other hand, I miss my ranch something awful. It’s my heritage and I should be here taking care of my land and my horses.”
Annie felt the breath leave her body. He’s not coming home with me.
“You should be here, Jesse. I can see that clearly. We’ll talk, and we’ll work it out.”
Jesse stopped brushing and stepped closer to her. “You mean that, Ace? I don’t want things to be different between us. That’s not what this is about.”
Things will be different.
“I understand. I love you too much to risk your health over something as mundane as who’s ranch we’re sleeping on.” She leaned forward and kissed him.
Coulter-Ross Ranch. La Grange.
ANNIE sobbed all the way home to her own ranch. Jesse was better off at Quantrall and she accepted it. She couldn’t leave Coulter-Ross. The same issue that had always come between them. She had at least fifty people that depended on her for a home and for their livelihood. Jesse had about half that many, but still neither one could just scrap their ranch and all their dependents for selfish reasons.
She drove through the gate and parked her truck in front of the garage. Jackson came running along the porch with Lucy behind him. “Where’s my baby sister, Mommy? Why didn’t you bring Charity home?”
Annie felt her heart break in two.
Ranger Headquarters. Austin.
A SHIVER ran through Blaine as he stood in the chilly morgue staring at Larry Appleton’s corpse laid out on Doc Simon’s stainless-steel autopsy table. Nothing new had come to light. Mort’s guesses had been on target. Larry was bashed over the head wi
th the bourbon bottle, then shot through the eye with a twenty-two long.
The only way someone could have been that accurate with a small gun, was if Appleton was out cold and lying perfectly still.
“Thanks, Mort.”
Blaine found Farrell in the Chief’s office drinking coffee together as they did regularly. The coffee they’d bought for him sat on the corner of the desk getting cold. Blaine shivered again and rubbed his hands together, the effects of the morgue still gripping him. He picked up the Starbuck’s container, flipped the tab and took a long pull. Not as hot as he needed, but strong and still warm.
“Well?” Chief Calhoun focused blue eyes on Blaine waiting for a recap on the autopsy.
Blaine shrugged. “Nothing we didn’t know, except a positive on the caliber. Hope highway patrol picks her up before she’s in Mexico.”
“Could be there already,” said the Chief. “She’s had enough time.”
“We need luck,” said Blaine. “Hasn’t been coming our way much lately.”
“That’s for damn sure,” said the Chief.
“There’s a gang out front waiting for you, bro,” said Farrell. “One guy said you promised something for this morning.”
“Hate it when I do that. I’m too fuckin nice.” He drank down half his coffee. “Got copies of the eight by tens?”
Farrell pointed to the Chief’s credenza.
“I was going to have Mary run the photo in the Statesman exclusively, but now that Renee has left the city—in my opinion she has—I’ve got no time to waste. I have to give it to the TV hounds as well.”
Calhoun nodded. “TV will get you faster action, son, and a lot more crap calls, but faster action.”
“What do you think, Chief? Can Leighton make a case with the new evidence we’ve got?”
“She says she’s going to kill Appleton—and she put it in writing. That’s good enough to arrest her on suspicion. And we know she was supremely pissed about the insurance money.”
“There’s your motive,” said Farrell. “It’s always about fuckin money.”
“I’ve looked like an asshole before,” said the Chief. “Won’t be a new experience for me. Go ahead and do it.”
BLAINE motioned to Mary Polito who sat in the waiting area working on her column. “It’s time, Mary. You take the pictures. I was only going to run them in the paper, but my suspect has disappeared, and I have to go with TV too.
“That’s okay, Blaine,” said Mary. “It doesn’t make much difference to me when I’m a day ahead. As soon as they read my page they know it’s coming straight from you and the stations run with it. You’ve got to catch her as soon as possible if she’s a killer.” She glanced down the corridor towards the Chief’s office looking for Farrell.
Blaine held the heavy glass door open and the heat hit them as they stepped onto the concrete steps at the front of the building.
Media people clustered around Blaine with mics held high. Before he could say a word, they fired a hundred questions at him all at the same time.
Blaine held up a hand to shut them up.
“What’s the good word, Mr. B?”
Blaine pointed to Mary and she held up the pictures. “Next of kin has been notified, and I’m able to tell y’all that our victim was Lawrence Appleton, an Austin attorney, Caucasian male, thirty-eight years old.”
I’m not telling them he worked for me.
“How was he killed?” Mr. B?”
“Mr. Appleton was shot with a small caliber handgun.”
A blonde reporter shouted, “Who’s the woman in the picture?”
“Mary will supply all of you with a picture of a person of interest in this case. Her name is Renee Endicott and I need to find her as soon as possible. Y’all have helped me in the past and I know how y’all enjoy pitching in.” He grinned.
“When’s Benson Lovell going on trial for the dance club murders?” Someone near the back shouted out.
“Mr. Lovell is recovering from surgery on his knee and his trial won’t be scheduled until that problem is out of the way.”
“Did you shoot Lovell’s knee out?” hollered a short dark-haired girl.
“I wasn’t at the scene.” He pointed to his sling.
“Was it Deputy Donovan?”
Blaine frowned. “Why is it important to y’all to know? Lovell is a murder suspect and he was shot in a take-down. Simple as that. Yes, his knee is injured, but he shot one of my men and almost killed him. Deputy Bristol is still on the critical list.”
Blaine waved his good arm and they backed off.
Saint David’s Hospital. Austin.
FARRELL was in silent mode as he drove to the hospital. “What do you think I should do about Mary?” he said when he finally spoke.
“Take her out for dinner to a quiet place and talk. Just talk and see where things go,” said Blaine, “It doesn’t mean you’re back together. Y’all are only talking.”
“I guess that makes sense, but it won’t change anything. She wants to get married and settle down and I don’t. Not for a long time yet. I know I’m not ready. How can talking make that work out?”
“Maybe she’s willing to wait a while until you’re more settled. It’s a problem with her being older than you.”
“She’s not willing to wait,” said Farrell, “that’s why we broke up.”
“Okay, she wasn’t willing to wait before you broke up, but now that she’s miserable without your dumb ass in her bed, she might have changed her mind.”
Farrell brightened a little. “Think so?”
“You won’t know until you talk to her, will you?”
“Okay. One dinner and if we can’t work it out, I’m gonna move on.”
When they arrived at the ICU, Ginny Rodriguez, dressed in designer jeans and a red silk blouse, was standing in front of the nurses’ station talking to a couple of her colleagues.
“Can we see Travis?” asked Farrell.
Ginny nodded. “As soon as Misty is finished her visit, although I think she’s been in there long enough. Ginny’s mouth took a hard line and her black eyes flashed.
Farrell raised an eyebrow and looked at Blaine.
Ginny is pissed that Misty’s visiting Travis.
Five minutes later Misty appeared at the door of the ICU waiting area wearing a long flowing yellow dress over tan boots with long fringe. “Y’all can go in now. Travis is feeling a lot better.”
“How are you doing?” Blaine asked her in passing.
“I’m busy,” she said, “baking bread and gearing up for Mabon. I’m holding a harvest feast for my followers tomorrow.”
Blaine nodded, unsure what Misty was talking about like he usually was. “Uh huh. That sounds nice.”
Farrell went ahead into the unit and Blaine caught up at Travis’ bedside. “Doing better today?”
Travis nodded. “Misty came to see me.”
“Uh huh,” said Blaine. “I was surprised to see her here.”
“Me too,” said Travis, “but she’s burning candles for me and doing some woo woo spells to make me heal faster.”
Farrell rolled his eyes. “Hope it works. We need you back in action.”
On the way to the truck in the hospital parking lot, Blaine’s cell rang. “Oh, nuts,” he said before he pressed talk.
“Mr. Blackmore, this is Bill Moffatt. I wonder if you could stop by the house. I saw you on TV and my wife and I are distressed with what you’ve done. We’d like an explanation and we’d like it in person.”
“I’m on my way, Mr. Moffatt. Shouldn’t take me more than twenty minutes.”
Farrell jumped in and started the Silverado. “The dad saw Renee’s picture on the news?”
“He’s pissed.”
“Yep.” Farrell pulled out of the lot and onto the road.
Moffatt Residence. Round Rock.
RENEE’S father stood in the doorway waiting while Blaine and Farrell got out of the truck. His jaw was tight, and his eyes narrowed to slits, r
eady for a confrontation.
“Come in and have a seat in the front room,” he growled. “Linda wants to hear what you have to say.” Bill retreated into another room to get his wife.
Linda limped into the living room, groaning in pain and half bent at the waist from her back injury. Her face was ghostly white and her eyes glassy like she’d been crying. “You men have ruined my daughter’s reputation and probably her life,” said Linda in a whine. “I want Bill to sue y’all for the damage you’ve done.”
“Your husband asked me here to explain,” said Blaine. “Will y’all listen while I do that?”
“Of course,” said Bill, “Linda and I are fair-minded people and we raised Renee to be a good and caring person. She hasn’t killed anybody no matter what y’all think.”
Blaine began the story of Renee running to Panama and intending to stay there without her children. Then he told them about the emails to Larry Appleton and how Larry had threatened to expose her for killing Max and was blackmailing her for the insurance money.
Bill’s face lost color as he listened silently.
Blaine finished up his story by saying, “We didn’t put her picture out there with no evidence, sir. Larry Appleton is lying in the morgue and we have an email from your daughter to Larry where she says in writing she’s going to kill him.”
Bill Moffatt gripped his chest, groaned and slumped over in his chair. Drool escaped from the side of his mouth and dribbled down his shirt.
Linda Moffatt screamed as she shuffled her bent and crippled body across the room to reach her unconscious husband. She dropped to her knees sobbing, “Don’t die, Billy. Please don’t die.”
Triplets wailed in the kitchen and Farrell couldn’t hear on his cell. He stepped outside and completed his call to 911.
Blackmore Agency. Austin.
THAT went well,” said Farrell as he headed back home. “Renee has double-fucked her whole family.”
Blaine nodded as he concentrated on a text from the man in charge.
“Blaine, I’ve talked to several people as per your request and at this point in time I believe it would be too dangerous to delve into the reasons for your parent’s accident. Leave it for now. Please.”
