by Carolina Mac
“I guess the truth is, I don’t want you getting hurt.”
“And you think that might happen with Kristal?”
“It could happen with anybody, but maybe you should date other women before you settle on just one. You’re a pretty decent catch, Lance. I can see where a lot of women would be interested in you.”
“No, Annie, I don’t think that’s true. It’s never been true up to this point and nothing is different.”
“Oh, yes, it is. You’ve put yourself out there now and made yourself available, where before you were kind of a recluse. Women talk, and they know these things.”
“You’re funny, Annie. So, I’m getting the feeling that you weren’t crazy about Kristal.”
“One meeting isn’t enough to know her, but I’m sticking with my shop-around advice. You’ve barely stuck your toe in the water…so to speak.”
Lance chuckled. “I’ll think about your advice.”
Annie ended the call. “That was awkward.” Annie scrolled up to Blaine’s number and called.
“Hey, Mom, how’s it going in Vegas?”
“Fine, honey. I’ve got a bit of a dilemma.” She explained about Kristal and asked for a background check.
“I can’t do it today, I’m tied up with something else, but Lily can do it. I’ll get her to start on it and she can call you.”
“Thanks, sweetheart. Miss you.”
“Miss you too, Mom. When are you coming home? Why are you staying so long in Vegas?”
“Oh, needed a break, I guess.”
“Come home soon, okay?”
“I will.” She ended the call and stared longingly at the screen.
“Sit down and eat some breakfast,” said Declan. “You don’t have to worry about Lance Ogilvie. He’s a big boy.”
“He seems vulnerable.” Annie lifted the lid of one of the serving trays and helped herself to two pieces of bacon. She took one bite and her cell rang again. Her phone was next to her left hand and she did a quick intake of oxygen.
Why did that number always scare her?
“Morning, sugar.”
“Steve Mathers is dead in his room at the Wynn.”
“Shit.”
“Don’t do anything yourself. Blaine is tied up. I’ll send Travis.”
Jesus, don’t send Travis. We’re not on good terms.
“Okay. What do you want me to do?”
“Do you have a connection yet?”
“A possible.”
“Stick close.”
“HE KILLED my brother,” the kid yelled into the pay phone at the corner Amoco. “The goddam nut job killed my brother.”
“What’s the address?” asked the officer at the call center.
“Six fifty Carlton. Runs off East Cesar Chavez.”
“I’ll send a unit right away, sir.”
The kid hung up the phone and sobbed. “Too late, lady. Way too late. Just catch that looney toon and fry his ass.” He ran back down the street and watched from an alley across the road.
BLAINE RECEIVED the relay from the call center as soon as it came in. “I’m on my way.” He programmed the address into his nav system, slammed the metallic strobes onto the roof of his diesel and turned on the siren. He called Farrell and put his phone on hands-free while he drove. “Bring Red to this address.”
“We got him, boss?”
“Good chance on this one.”
“Nothing on the list so far.”
“Forget the list for now. Come pronto, I might need backup.”
First response hadn’t arrived when Blaine got there. He parked in front and left the strobes flashing.
At the front door he knocked once and announced himself, got no response, hollered, “Police, coming in.” He pushed the creaky front door open and stepped into the dingy hallway. From where he stood he couldn’t see anything out of place, and no corpse in the whole house. The caller said Fisher had killed his brother.
“Zachary Fisher, if you’re here, show yourself. You are under arrest. This is the police.”
There’s a helluva stink in here coming from somewhere.
Blaine led with his Beretta and cleared the small row house room by room. No Zach Fisher. He opened the door in the hall where the smell was strongest, and the top body slid off the one underneath and landed in the hallway. A swarm of flies buzzed out and took off in all directions.
“Fuck, two more corpses and he’s gone again.”
He called Calhoun. “Chief, send the troops.” He gave the address. “Two more bodies.”
“Goddam it, Blacky, he can’t be far ahead of y’all.”
“Farrell should be here in a minute. Red will know which way he went.”
Blaine stood in the open doorway of the rowhouse waiting for Farrell and the troops from DPS to arrive. He scanned the street up and down searching for any hint of movement—movement that might be Zach Fisher watching, and in a narrow space between two sections of housing across the street, he thought he saw someone. Just a flash, but definitely something or someone moved. Maybe a dog or a cat, but maybe not. He stared, waiting for them to move again and saw nothing.
Farrell’s red truck pulled up and parked behind his and Blaine jumped off the sagging front stoop to meet his foster brother. “Hey, man, you made good time.”
“Wasn’t far away and was making zero fuckin progress on those crazy-ass sightings.”
“If this mess is his,” said Blaine, “I don’t think he’s far ahead of us. Bring Red in and see what he does.”
“Got no partner,” said Farrell as he leashed the big bloodhound and took him out of the back of the club cab. “Why did the man send Trav to Vegas?”
“No clue yet. Jesse called and said he and Travis were needed in Vegas and were on a one o’clock flight.”
“Need more manpower when we have to split like this,” said Farrell.
“The Junkers are on us.” Blaine looked around and saw no one. “Or at least, I think they are.”
“Those guys are like fuckin ghosts,” said Farrell. “How do they do that?”
Blaine shrugged and led the way inside. “Good at their jobs, I guess.” He stopped in the front hall and pointed, “That guy is fresher than the guy who was stuffed in the closet first.”
Farrell made a face. Crime scenes weren’t his forte. He was a dog handler and a sniper. “Stinks in here.”
“Take a tour through the whole place and see what Red thinks.”
“Yep, I’ll start at the back and work forward.”
While Farrell worked the dog, the medical examiner arrived, followed closely by two squads of officers and the crime scene van.
“What you got here, Mr. B?” asked one of the Rangers from homicide.
“Two bodies, one dead longer than the other, but the doc will tell us for sure.”
“Think the runaway is close?”
Blaine nodded. “I can feel him. He ain’t far.”
Red galloped down the narrow hallway, towing Farrell behind him, skirted around the corpse and headed out the front door. “I’m gone boss. I’ve got my earwig in.”
TYLER FINISHED breakfast after chores and headed upstairs to take a shower. The landline rang in the front hall and he picked it up.
“Is Jesse there?” a female voice asked.
“Uh huh. Who’s calling?”
“This is Alexa. We met last night at Boots and Saddles.”
“Uh huh. I remember,” said Tyler. “Hang on and I’ll get him.” Tyler jogged to the bottom of the stairs and hollered. “Call for you, Jesse. Pick up the landline up there.”
Fresh out of the shower and wrapped in a towel, Jesse picked up the phone in the wide upstairs hallway. “Hello?”
“Hi, Jesse, it’s me, Alexa.”
Who the hell is Alexa?
“We met last night at the roadhouse?”
“Oh, yeah. Hi.”
“Hi, yourself. I was wondering if you wanted to get together later?”
“Umm… not poss
ible for me today, sorry. I have a plane to catch and I’ll be out of town for a couple of days.”
“Where are you going?”
“Out of state on business.”
“Will you call me when you get back?”
Nope.
“Maybe.”
“Okay, bye for now.”
Jesse hung up the handset and saw Tyler standing at the top of the stairs with a big grin on his face. “What?”
“Somebody is taken with you, bro.”
“Fuck off, Ty. Help me pack, will you?”
TRAVIS STOMPED around his apartment above the antique store like a raging bull. His duffel sat open on his unmade bed and his head was so crowded with an emotional tug of war, he couldn’t think of what to pack.
How in hell am I gonna work with Annie-girl after the fight we had? I was totally wrong and screwed myself in the ass just when things were finally going good for us.
“And Jesse is my partner on this gig. Holy fucking hell, could anything be worse? He’s not over his divorce from Annie and they’re barely speaking.”
I don’t want to go.
You have to go, asshole. It’s your job.
BLAINE CRUISED along in his truck as Farrell jogged along the sidewalk working Big Red. They were six blocks away from the rowhouse on Carlton and Red hadn’t lost the scent. Blaine’s cell rang on the passenger seat and he checked the screen. Lily.
“Hey, Lil. What have you got?”
“No good news on Miss Kristal Ducharme. She has a jacket in Chicago. Prostitution, then robbery charges when she worked as an escort. I haven’t found anything on her in Vegas.”
“Did she do any time?”
“Yep, six months on the robbery. Lifting wallets after the deed was done was her MO, but she was only prosecuted once.”
“But there were more complaints?”
“Lots more, from her so-called dates.”
“Fuck.”
“Do you know her?”
“Nope, just checking on her for Annie. Kristal is dating Lance Ogilvie and Annie pegged her as a problem.”
“Damn right,” said Lily. “She’s a huge problem.”
“Thanks, Lil.”
“Sure. Anything else?”
“See how much Misty is asking for her house, would you, without letting her find out I’m inquiring?”
“Will do, boss. Back at you.”
Blaine called Annie’s cell and dropped the Kristal bomb on her.
JESSE KISSED CHARITY for the hundredth time and gave her an extra hug before relinquishing her to Tyler. “Don’t know if I can do this. It’s tearing my heart out to leave my baby girl.”
“You can call me every hour if you want to. Nothing will happen to our baby. Go do your job.”
Jesse inhaled a big breath and then another. He picked up his bag and went out the front door without looking back.
Travis was sitting on the back step of Annie’s building, smoking with his duffel at his feet when Jesse cruised down the narrow laneway behind the store. Travis tossed his butt down, tramped on it with his boot, and jumped in the shotgun seat of the Range Rover.
“Am I late?” asked Jesse.
Travis shrugged. “Don’t matter, long as we don’t miss the plane.”
“I had a hard time leaving Charity. Guess that’s normal.”
“Wouldn’t know,” said Travis. “Could be, boss.”
“I’m not looking forward to this job, Trav. Got a bad feeling swirling around in my head.”
“Maybe you’re remembering the last job we did in Vegas and how that one went to hell in a hurricane. I know I’ll never forget it.”
“How could you? You have permanent souvenirs.”
“I’m still doing physio to get rid of the reminders, but just say’n, any job with Annie-girl on it,” Travis paused to choose his words carefully, so he wouldn’t offend Jesse, “smooth ain’t the watchword.”
Jesse chuckled. “Bingo.”
ZACHARY FISHER bought his ticket and sat on a bench near the back of the terminal, humming softly to himself. He pulled the blue ballcap he’d stolen from Lamar’s closet lower over his eyes and slouched down in his seat. On the wall near the ticket counter, he’d seen a wanted poster of himself with a full beard. Now that he was clean shaven, he didn’t think anyone would recognize him—no one but that punk drug-dealing kid and he paid for the privilege.
Wonder how things look in Killeen? I might have to fix my house up a little.
BLAINE CAUGHT up to Farrell at the next corner. Red had planted himself in the bus shelter and wasn’t moving. “Get in,” Blaine hollered, “he’s on another fuckin bus.”
Farrell put the dog in the back seat and jumped in the front. “Has the Chief got people at the bus station and the airport?”
Blaine nodded. “Think so. Train station too. Standard procedure.”
“Fisher seems to like the bus,” said Farrell. “I’m getting a vibe.”
“Okay.” Blaine turned towards downtown. “Let’s check the bus terminal ourselves.”
“Thanks, bro.”
ANNIE FINISHED her second coffee after lunch at Wolfgang Puck’s and set her cup down.
“Go ahead and tell me, Annie. You’ve been tense since you got that phone call this morning at breakfast.”
“Travis has been assigned to help me.”
“He’s coming to Vegas?”
Annie nodded and checked the time. “Should be landing right about now.”
Declan shook his head. “Time for me to go back to the ranch. Things will be difficult enough for you.”
Annie reached out and patted his hand. “You don’t have to go. His coming here is work-related. It has nothing to do with you.”
“But when he sees me here, it will have everything to do with me and nothing to do with work—I’ve known Travis Bristol long enough and taken care of him through several injuries to be aware of what a hard-headed case he is.”
Annie smiled. “All the times I’ve thought things were going well for me and Travis—they weren’t. He’s always on a different page and I never realize it until he blows up.”
“You never told me what caused the last break-up.”
“Better if you don’t know.”
“You can tell me. I’m not a jealous sort.”
Annie shrugged. “I forgave him for how he treated me when I came out of the coma and he assured me nothing like that would ever happen again. It was a fresh start for us.”
“Uh huh.”
“Then a couple of times he came to the house, for dinner or for poker or whatever, he noticed you sitting at the island in the kitchen talking to me and having a beer, and he questioned me on it.”
“And.”
“And, I said you lived at the ranch and you could sit in the kitchen or anywhere else you wanted to sit.”
“Then he accused you of sleeping with me,” said Declan.
“How did you know that?”
“I know Travis and how he thinks.”
“I denied it because it wasn’t true. He didn’t believe me, and we broke up again.”
Declan chuckled. “Lucky for me.”
“The luck of the Irish.” Annie winked at him.
“Even so, if he comes here and sees we’re together after the last break-up, it will make it harder for you to work with him on the case. Best if I go home.”
“You might be right, still, I hate to see you go.”
“I’ll be waiting for you at the ranch.”
After Dec went upstairs to pack and get a flight to Austin, Annie headed for the poker pit on the casino floor to speak to Rudy.
He had just come on shift when she arrived, and he greeted her with a wide smile. “Mrs. Powell, don’t see you down here too often.”
“I’m spoiled by the big game, Rudy, but I need to ask you something.”
“Sure, anything.”
“Would you happen to know, or remember if Sandra Beauchamp mentioned where she was staying?”
Rudy frowned in thought. “I think we comped her a suite on the same floor as yours, but I’ll check it for you.”
“Thanks, that would be helpful.”
“You want to get together for some power shopping?”
Annie smiled. “Something like that.”
JESSE RENTED a Jeep while Travis waited silently beside him. With the paperwork filled out, the clerk handed Jesse a key and told him where to pick up the vehicle. As they walked towards the rental lot, Jesse queried Travis. “You never said a word all the way here, Trav. You got a problem?”
“Sure do. Me and Annie-girl had a huge fight, and I’m not sure I’m man enough to do my job and not let being around her drive me mental.”
Jesse grinned. “I’ve been in that position more often than not. Welcome to the club.”
Travis managed a smile. “You’re the best, boss. Number one.”
“I don’t want to be here either. Can’t stand being away from my baby girl.”
“Don’t know nothing about that, boss. Zero. Nada.”
“Someday you will, Travis.”
“Maybe. I like kids. Don’t get me wrong. Just short on experience, that’s it.”
Jesse pulled into the drop-off loop at the front entrance of the massive Caesar’s complex and gave the Jeep and the keys to the valet.
“Welcome to Caesar’s, sir.”
“Thanks,” said Jesse. To Travis: “Never stayed here before. Always stayed at the Bellagio. Why is Ace here, I wonder?”
“Don’t know, boss. Could be work related.”
“Blacky’s gonna find out one day, you know that don’t you? And then all hell’s gonna break loose. He will go berserk when he finds out the man recruited his Mom—the woman he loves more than life—to do his fuckin wet work.”
“Jesus, boss. Did he think Blacky would never find out?”
“Blacky will never find out from me, that’s for damn sure. When he does find out, I don’t want to be within ten miles of that short Latino fuse.”
Travis chuckled. “Me neither.”
Jesse stopped in the lobby and called Annie’s cell. “Hey, Ace, Travis and I are downstairs. Y’all are expecting us, right?”
“Umm… expecting Travis. Didn’t know you were coming, cowboy.”
