by Carolina Mac
Wish you weren’t dead, Mary. Honest.
After his meal, Zach locked the doors, turned off all the lights and settled in on the sofa to watch football.
BLAINE PARKED in Misty’s driveway and tore up the steps onto her porch thinking he was late. Had she given him a time for dinner? If she had, he couldn’t recall it. Too fuckin much on his mind. Number one being a person—Arlo Maznik—who claimed to have known his father. Would he ever have time to meet the guy? Fuck. He needed down time in the worst fuckin way.
Not taking time to use his key, he knocked. Hoodoo barked inside but stopped once Misty opened the door and the big Bernese recognized Blaine.
Blaine took Misty in his arms and kissed her passionately, probing her mouth with his tongue and pressing her against the wall in the foyer. She smelled wonderful and he was instantly hard. He forgot about being mad at her—couldn’t help himself. It had been too long. “I want you,” he whispered.
“Before dinner or after?”
“Before, after and during.”
“Let me turn the stove down.”
Exhausted after their hour of rough-and-tumble lovemaking, Blaine slumped down in his chair at the dining room table and waited while Misty put the finishing touches on dinner.
She definitely outshines me in the energy department.
Misty smiled at him as she put the baking pan of lasagna on a trivet. “You look beat.”
“You did it.” He winked at her.
“I wasn’t running around the city all day searching for a nut job.”
“Did you see his picture on TV?”
“Uh huh.”
“Get any of your special vibes from the picture?”
“Nope. Do you want me to help?”
Blaine shrugged as he watched her plop a huge serving of lasagna onto his plate. “Maybe—see how tomorrow goes.”
“Want another beer?”
“Uh huh. Thanks.”
Misty sat down across from him and took a bite of her food. “You haven’t said anything about the ‘for sale’ sign on the lawn.”
“Waiting for you to fill me in, I guess. It makes sense that at some point you have to give Brad his half of the equity.”
“That’s why I want it sold. I want to settle up with him, so he doesn’t have even the smallest reason to contact me.”
“I can’t argue with that reasoning. I don’t want him anywhere near you.”
Misty took a sip of her red wine and leaned a little closer. “Can I ask you something?”
“Okay, sure.”
“When the house is sold, would you rent me your house next door, so I wouldn’t lose my customers? I don’t want to move out of the neighborhood.”
Blaine grinned at her. “You want to be my tenant?”
“Something like that.”
“If you moved to the estate and lived with me I’d support you and you wouldn’t need customers. Ever think of that?”
“Sure did, tough guy, and I appreciate the offer to be your kept woman,” she winked at him, “But what would I do all day that far out of the city while you were catching bad guys? Sit around doing Tarot readings for Carmelita and the Junkers?”
Blaine held up a hand. “You said no the first time I asked you and I shouldn’t have mentioned it again. I swore to myself I wouldn’t. You want to be independent and continue your business in this not-the-safest of neighborhoods. Got it. The topic is closed.”
“I hate it when you’re pissed at me.” Misty refilled her glass.
“I’m not a big fan of arguing either. I like to keep the peace.” Blaine finished his lasagna and thought about having more.
“You could keep things peaceful and running smoothly by letting me move next door when I have to get out of here.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“Why do you need time to think about it? It would be better for me to live there than having it sitting empty, wouldn’t it? Are you planning on doing something else with the house? Does your indecision have something to do with Carmelita?”
When did she get so fuckin pushy?
He held up a hand as he felt the heat rushing up his neck. “Don’t go there. Carm is off limits.”
JESSE HELD the door of the roadhouse open for Tyler. “How long has it been since we’ve been out for a few?”
“Too fuckin long,” said Tyler. “We’ve got no social life anymore. Bobby is the only one of us with a girlfriend.”
“You mean no life now that we’re parents?” Jesse chuckled as he tried to find a booth.
Boots and Saddles had been the watering hole of choice for the Quantrall boys since they were old enough to drink. The bar catered to thirsty bikers and cowboys alike and paid little attention to décor or ambiance. The lighting was poor to dingy, the booths were scarred and revarnished time after time, but the dance floor was polished, the music was loud, and the beer was always cold. Nothing more customers could want, except a country band on the weekends, and Boots gave them that too.
Tyler waved to Julie, one of the waitresses who had the hots for him, and she came rushing over.
“Where in hell’s half acre have you boys been? Thought y’all died and went to Appaloosa heaven.”
“Horse heaven?” Tyler asked with a smirk.
“Come on, Ty. Y’all are the good guys, and I know it.” She rushed away to get them a pitcher and frosted glasses.
“You should take her out again,” said Jesse. “Nice girl.”
“Yeah, she’s nice n’all, but there’s no…”
“Spark?” asked Jesse.
“Yeah, no spark.”
They emptied the first pitcher and Tyler stood up. “I’m taking a piss, then I’m gonna find somebody who ain’t hard to look at and I’m gonna dance.”
“Do it,” said Jesse, “we came here to have some fun. I’m gonna dance too—right after one more pitcher.”
Ty grinned at his older brother who rarely danced, and never, now that his heart was so bad. He headed for the men’s room.
Tyler was dancing with a cute girl in a very short denim skirt and Jesse contented himself watching his brother and emptying a pitcher of Lone Star. He was relaxing into an inebriated state of euphoria when a girl appeared at the end of the table and held out her hand.
“Dance, cowboy?”
Although he was caught short, Jesse gave her a grin and stood up. “Sure thing.” As they glided across the floor to a slow song, Jesse took a second look at her. She came up to his shoulder, so she wasn’t too tall. Her hair smelled nice—kind of flowery—and it was dark and curled down onto her shoulders. He’d only had one quick look at her face, but he had the impression she was pretty.
“What’s your name?”
“Alexa.”
“I’m Jesse.”
“I know who y’all are. My friend said you guys are Quantralls.”
“Uh huh. Guess so.” The song ended, and Jesse walked Alexa back to her table. “Want to dance another slow one later?”
“Sure do.” She pointed at the booth. “Why don’t you and your brother come sit with us over here?”
“I’ll ask him.” Jesse strode across the dance floor and put the question to Tyler.
“Fuck, bro, do we have to be nice to them and all that shit?” Tyler emptied the third pitcher into his glass.
“Jeeze, Ty, if it’s too much effort for you, let’s just stay here.”
Jesse sat down, picked up the empty pitcher and waved it in the air so Julie could see it.
Ty looked around for Julie and picked up other movement from across the room. “Fuck, they’re coming over here.”
Jesse turned his head and saw the two girls crossing the dance floor with a pitcher, glasses of beer and their purses. “I think you are correct, Ty.”
“Okay if we sit with y’all?” asked Alexa. “Didn’t see y’all coming over to sit with us.”
“We’re shy.” Jesse pointed at Tyler. “At least my brother is.”
“I’m
Sharon.” Alexa’s friend squeezed in beside Tyler and he had to move over.
“Uh huh.”
“You guys have girlfriends or anything?” asked Sharon.
Jesse shrugged. “I had a wife for a while, but I don’t have her now.”
Tyler was slurring his words, “We got no time for girlfriends or dates. We’ve got a baby to look after.”
Alexa raised a dark penciled eyebrow. “Whose baby is it?”
“Mine,” said Jesse. “Apparently I’m more of a stud than I realized.”
Tyler hooted. “Goddam right you are, bro. You fathered the most beautiful baby girl ever born in Texas.”
Sharon’s eyes narrowed as she turned to look at Tyler. “You some kind of baby freak?”
“Hell yeah,” hollered Tyler. “Wanna dance?”
ANNIE LEFT DECLAN in their suite lounging in front of the flat screen with a six-pack of beer and a bag of chips and took the elevator to the penthouse. Rudy met her at the door and welcomed her to the game with a big grin.
“Nice to see you tonight, Mrs. Powell,” he eyed her new Prada dress up and down, “and I have to say you are looking more stunning than ever.”
“Thank you, Rudy. You are too kind.”
Annie bought her chips and took her regular seat—seat seven—at the table. “Good evening, Pete. How’s your luck going?” She smiled at the old Judge.
“It will take a turn for the better now that you’re here, Annie dear. At least one other decent player at the table.”
“Hey, Judge, we can hear you,” said Frank Vitali in seat ten. Frank was a corporate lawyer who specialized in litigation. Dark complexion and dark wavy hair, Frank was a sharp dresser who liked to sue people and take his cut of the settlement off the top. He nodded to Annie as she sat down and stacked her chips.
They played one hand and another new player joined the game. Sandra Beauchamp was a tall, slim blonde that Annie had seen at the table a couple of times before. This time she came with a date—a blond-haired surfer type guy who was a good four inches taller than her.
Rudy made the introductions. “You all know Miss Beauchamp, and this is her friend, Steve Mathers.”
“Hey, Steve,” said Annie, “welcome to the game.”
Steve beamed a smile across the table at Annie as he sat down next to his date.
For the next hour, Annie played very few hands and spent most of her time watching the interaction between Sandra and her date.
She mentally reviewed the sketchy information she’d been given. Three men in their forties, had been found dead in their hotel rooms in Vegas in the past six months. All had personal wealth and high-profile positions. Three different medical examiners had been unable to pinpoint a cause of death and had attributed the deaths to natural causes. All three of the men had played in a high stakes poker game the night before their deaths and won huge amounts of cash—none of which was found with the corpses. The poker aspect was the only thread they had in common, aside from the fact that the man knew two of the men personally and was pissed off that they were dead.
“Would you like another drink, Steve?” Sandra Beauchamp asked her date, then stood up. “I’m going to the buffet.”
Steve shook his blond head and smiled. “No thanks, I’m fine for now.”
He’s a good player and seems nice.
Annie played another hour and she wasn’t getting any hands. She cashed out and headed downstairs to bed.
CHAPTER FOUR
FIRST ORDER of the day had Blaine going over the lists of sightings in downtown Austin. Hundreds of calls to the hotline. Apparently, everybody and his brother had seen Zach Fisher in Austin—everybody except the Blackmore crew and the cops. Blaine sat at the kitchen table in the massive estate kitchen and poured over the addresses where the sightings had been reported.
Is he still in the city, or would he try to head back to his roots in Killeen? Does he even remember where he grew up?
He made a quick call to Doctor McIntyre and left a message. If anybody would know, it would be McIntyre.
Was Fisher McIntyre’s special patient? Or was he that close to all his patients? It seems creepy.
Carm traversed the area between the table in the window alcove and the food prep area bearing a carafe of fresh Panamanian blend—Blaine’s favorite.
“Thanks, Carm.” Blaine pointed to a chair. “Sit down with me,” he said in Spanish. “We haven’t had any time to talk.”
“Si, too busy,” she said, an unhappy expression on her face.
“We need to talk about something, and I don’t know how you’ll feel about it.”
“Okay, go ahead, sweetheart.”
“Misty has to sell her house to pay Brad off and she wants to move into our house and pay rent.”
Carm shrugged. “Bad hombre. What do you think?”
“I don’t know. I’m so busy right now, I can’t think at all.”
She held up a hand. “We might go back home. We wait.”
“Okay, we’ll wait.” He reached over and patted her hand. “No matter what happens, you will be with me—always.”
“Bueno.” She stood up and stroked his hair.
By the time he finished breakfast, Blaine had pared down the list of sightings and divided it in two. When Travis and Farrell reported for work, he gave them each a list and sent them out to do the interviews.
“Find me one person who actually saw Zach Fisher.”
“Will do, boss,” said Farrell.
The boys left, and Blaine’s cell rang. “Detective Lopez, got something for me?”
“Not much, Blacky. The prints are back from the knife in the alley and your nutcase did the drug kid. Confirmed.”
“One less on your desk, Detective.”
“You got that right.”
ZACH WOKE from a deep sleep on the comfy sofa and turned off the TV. He used the bathroom, noticed the shower and the towels hanging on the rack, and stood under the hot water for a good ten minutes, singing to himself. He toweled off, feeling better than he’d felt in decades. He shaved off his beard with the razor that lay on the vanity next to a can of Gillette shaving cream. Dressed in clean clothes a size too small for him that he found in the bedroom closet, he hit the kitchen and cooked a big frying pan full of bacon and eggs. He popped down four slices of toast and enjoyed the best breakfast in recent memory.
A knock came on the front door as Zach piled his dishes in the sink. “Who the hell can that be?” He ambled to the door and opened it.
Two young black hoodlums with dreads sticking out under their ball caps pushed past him. “Where’s Lamar?”
“Who?” asked Zach. “I don’t know any Lamar.”
One of the kids, the taller of the two, pointed a finger in his face. “Well, you must know him, asshole. You’re standing in his house.”
“This is my house.”
“Bullshit, brother. This ain’t your house. Now you give up Lamar. We got deliveries to make and routes to be covering this morning.”
The taller kid doing all the talking kept rambling on, but the other kid said nothing, just stared at him. “Hey, Wayne, dis look like the dude on the news. Da one flew outta looney town.”
“Nah, dat dude had a beard and he was bigger—way bigger. This ain’t him.”
The short kid took a step closer and poked a finger into Zach’s chest. “You him, ain’t ya?”
Zach wrapped a strong forearm around the kid’s neck, twisted his head with the other hand and a loud crack filled the room. “Nope. Not me.” He let go and the kid’s body crumpled to a heap on the floor.
“Holy fuck, loony man, you just killed my brother.” The tall kid took off out the door at top speed, slamming the door behind him.
Zach hauled the dead kid down the hall to the closet and opened the door. “Got some company for you, Lamar.”
He lifted the kid, folded him in half and stacked him on top of Lamar.
JESSE HEARD Charity crying on the monitor and he tried to get
out of bed. “Jeeze, way too much beer. Not used to it.” He pulled himself to his feet with the help of the nightstand and called out, “Coming baby, hold on.”
He took a detour into the ensuite and heaved into the toilet then ran a cloth under cold water and wiped his face. “Damn it all, anyway. Shouldn’t have gone out. Now look at me.” He staggered down the hall into Charity’s room and Tyler was already there and had her on the change table.
“You’re a mess this morning.” Ty chuckled as he tucked Charity’s little arm into a clean sleeper. “Go back to sleep. I’ll give her a bottle and put her back to bed.”
“You sure?”
“Course I’m sure. Beat it.”
Thankful for his brother, Jesse went next door to his own room and flopped on his bed.
ANNIE TOWELED off and slipped into her robe. She sat down across from Declan at the dining table in their suite and picked up a piece of toast.
“Want jam on that, darlin?”
“Did they give us any raspberry?”
Dec looked through the tiny containers. “Nope, only strawberry or blueberry.”
“Plain will do.”
“You look tired. How late did you play?”
“The game was boring, and I left about two thirty.”
“You need to nap in the afternoon before you go back.”
Annie nodded. “Sounds like a good idea.”
Declan filled her coffee cup and passed her the cream. “I think that sounds like your phone in the bedroom.”
Annie heaved a sigh and crossed the living room to retrieve her phone. She returned looking at the screen. “It was Lance.” She pressed call and he answered on the first ring. “Hey, you were calling me bright and early.”
“I didn’t wake you, did I?”
“No, I was in the shower. Thanks for dinner, by the way. Declan and I enjoyed ourselves.” She winked at Dec and sank into her chair.
“I want your honest opinion on Kristal. How did you like her?”
“Uh huh. Nice. She seemed nice.”
Lance paused. “What aren’t you saying, Annie?”
