Double Down

by Carolina Mac

  “To what do I owe this honor, sir? You’ve never visited our humble offices before, although we would have been pleased to have you. The bust you brought down in Vegas is legendary.”

  “And that brings me to why I’m here,” said Blaine. “Agent Flores. She was instrumental in the Vegas bust, as she was in taking down the Tibando brothers in Lee county. I realize she’s been on assignment for several months, and I’m not prying into your operation, but I had a call from her mother this morning and she is very worried about her daughter.”

  “Hmm… Agent Flores. She used to work out of this office, but I’m afraid she no longer does.”

  Blaine studied Rambocas as he tapped the end of his pen on his notepad.

  He’s lying.

  “Did she transfer to another office?” asked Blaine.

  “No, she resigned.”

  “I can’t say I believe that to be true.”

  Rambocas stood up and walked over to a scratched metal cabinet in the corner of the scruffy office and pulled out a file. He opened it, made a show of shuffling through the contents and pulled out a typed sheet of paper. “Ah, yes, here it is. Dated September 13th of last year.”

  Blaine read the document and peered at the signature. It looked like Fab’s handwriting, but he hadn’t seen enough of it to be certain.

  “Did she move onto another job when she left here? One that you would have given her a reference for?”

  “I believe she said she was taking time off to care for her mother. That’s all I can recall.”

  Blaine stood and pointed a finger at Rambocas, “If you’ve burned her and left her somewhere to die, I’ll make sure you regret it.”

  “I don’t believe you’re in a position to threaten me, Mr. Blackmore-Powell.” Rambocas smiled.

  “Wrong again.”

  BLAINE SLAMMED the door of the big diesel, lowered the window and lit up a smoke. “The fuckers back-dated a phony resignation, and fuckin wrote her off because they couldn’t get her out.” He thumped the steering wheel with his fist.

  “You sound sure,” said Logan. “Maybe that’s not what happened.”

  “I don’t want to believe it, but my gut is telling me it’s true.” He turned the key and waited for the green light. Before it came on his cell rang.

  “Sir, I was just about to call you.”

  “Beat you to it, son. Not a social call.”

  “No? What’s up?”

  “Received a call from Warden Allison at Huntsville. He let three of the worst go over the fence sometime in the night. His men are beating the bushes, as are the Marshalls, but he could use more help.”

  “Damn it. How much of a start did they have before anybody noticed they were gone?”

  “Couple of hours, from what I gather.”

  “Any clues on which way they were headed?”

  “I told Brady to send their background info to your e-mail. It should be there by now.”

  “Okay, thanks. I’m on my way home now.”

  “Why were you calling, son? You didn’t say.”

  “Fabiana is on assignment and her mother is worried that she’s been gone too long. I spoke to Rambocas at the DEA field office and he shot me a line of shit—said she doesn’t work there anymore.”

  “We know that’s crap. What do you need?”

  “I need the name of her handler and his number if you can get it.”

  “I’ll get it.”

  “Thank you, sir. That’s a load off.”

  Blaine hit the street and burned rubber. “Scott will get the name of her handler.”

  “Scott who?”

  “Our boss, Scott Richardson.”

  “Jesus, man, you were talking to the fuckin Governor of Texas.”

  “He was calling to put us to work and it ain’t gonna be fun. Three assholes broke out of Huntsville in the night and the man wants them back. We’ve got to find them.”

  “Shit,” said Logan. “You’re right. That ain’t gonna be fun.”

  RACE SAT ON THE PORCH cuddling his huge black cat in his lap. The cat had belonged to the girl who pulled him out of the Colorado River and saved his life. She met with an untimely accident, and Race felt dutybound to take care of her cat. How he remembered that little detail was anybody’s guess.

  Blaine parked the truck close to the garage, gave Race a wave and headed down the flagstone walkway at the side of the house.

  “The guy on the porch looks familiar,” said Logan. “Think I’ve seen his mug shot somewhere.” He chuckled. “Most wanted, maybe.”

  “Race Ogilvie, king of The Rule in Vegas. Now retired and living in my house. Can’t say I’m happy about it.”

  “Holy fuck, how’d that happen? Shouldn’t that dude be on death row?”

  “Should be, but you know how blind lady justice is.”

  “Yeah, the lady doesn’t always see the truth.”

  “He was declared unfit to stand trial for his long list of crimes and Annie, my soft-hearted mother, said he could live here.”

  “Why in hell would she do that? The guy’s a killer.”

  “He’s Jackson’s father. My little brother.”

  “Oh, shit. That kind of wrenches it.”

  “Uh huh.” Blaine opened the back door and led the way to the office. Travis sat on the sofa and Farrell sat opposite him in one of the wing chairs, both of them focused on a tray of sandwiches on the coffee table.

  “Mom made us some lunch,” said Farrell between bites.

  “Good, I’m about starved,” said Blaine. “Did Rosie bake any tarts this morning?”

  “I’ll go check.” Farrell hopped up and took another sandwich with him.

  “Dogs ready?” Blaine asked Travis.

  “Yep, ready to go. Farrell got their gear together right after you phoned. The rifles are ready too. Annie-girl saw to them.” Travis pointed to the cases. “Any clues where the guys might be headed?”

  “I’m gonna check that now. The warden said he sent their info to my e-mail.” Blaine picked up another sandwich and took it to his desk. “Yep, here it is. I’ll print it.”

  He stretched sideways out of his chair, reached over and took the paper out of the printer. “Okay, here we go. Our missing residents are Bruce Kelly, from Odessa, age thirty-five, rape, murder, armed robbery. Next, Andros Hatch, from Victoria, twenty-seven, serial killer. And Lyman McKay, from Austin, age forty-two, spree killer. Mr. McKay gunned down twelve people in a campground in Bastrop.” He passed the mug shots to the boys. “Let’s load up and find these guys before anybody else does. Save the state of Texas some money.”

  “You got it, boss,” said Farrell who had returned with a tin of pecan tarts.

  While the boys loaded the truck, Blaine called Jesse and filled him in. “Where are you?”

  “At the barn, but I can go to the trailer and make calls. What do you need?”

  “All reports of stolen vehicles in a close radius around Huntsville—get Jamie to do it—also any penny-ante

  robberies, like guys grabbing food, clothes, a bit of cash.”

  “Okay, I’ve got it. I’ll get Jamie started and be in touch.”

  JESSE JUMPED off the horse he was working with, led the big mare out of the arena and turned her reins over to Tyler. “Sorry, bro. I’ve got to make some calls for Blacky. Can you cool this girl down for me?”

  “Something going on?”

  “Three guys broke out of Huntsville.”

  “Shit,” said Tyler. “Hope they don’t come here.”

  Jesse chuckled as he jogged to his truck. He drove out to the trailer and settled at his desk. He pulled up the number for Ranger headquarters and asked for Jamie Parnell. He hadn’t talked to her since they broke up a few months before.

  “Hey, Jesse, nice to hear your voice,” she said in a whisper and Jesse felt a wave of guilt wash over him.

  “I should have called before this, but I’ve been… away.”

  “It’s okay. I know you married Annie Powell afte
r your brush with death. Sometimes we need an eyeopener like that to point us in the right direction. You should be with her.”

  Time will tell.

  “Thanks, Jamie.” He inhaled a big breath and stated the purpose of his call. “Anyway, y’all must be working on the prison break at Huntsville and the Governor put us on it too.”

  “We sent some men this morning. I didn’t know Blaine was taking it. What do you need?”

  Jesse gave her the rundown on what Blaine wanted.

  “Okay, I’ll get right on it. I can call you or Blaine when I get something.”

  “Call Blacky, he’s headed that way right now with the dogs.”

  “You aren’t going?”

  Jesse paused, wishing he was. “I can’t leave the office.”

  “Oh, right, because of your heart. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have brought that up.”

  “It’s okay. I have to accept it and live with it.” There was dead air between them as he wondered if he should say anything more about the breakup.

  “Hope you and Annie are happy,” said Jamie, and ended the call.

  Jesse stared at his phone for a good ten seconds then went to the fridge to look for a beer.

  IT WAS FULL DARK, when Blaine approached Huntsville from the west, coming into the city on old route thirty.

  “Which way do you think they’d go?” asked Farrell. “I’d bet they’d go to the Gulf—that’s if they had a brain left.”

  “Yeah, and maybe they figure the law is gonna count on them going to Mexico, so they’ll try something else,” said

  Logan. “It’s all bullshit. Trying to read what’s in their heads and getting a jump on them. They’re running. Shit will be coming down on them and I bet they’ll change their plan and their direction twice an hour.”

  “What do you think, Trav?” asked Blaine.

  “If the older guy is running the show—and I’m going with him—he’ll have contacts. Where did you say he was from again?”

  “His sheet said he was from Austin, but he killed the campers in Bastrop.”

  “Should see where his family or known buddies are at,” said Travis, “and put eyes on them.”

  “Yep, phone Jamie at DPS and have her do that.”

  “Y’all can use Ranger resources? Sweet deal y’all got

  going on,” said Logan. “What’s this Ranger Jamie look like?”

  “Blonde, blue eyes,” said Farrell, “she’s about as close to a ten as you can get.”

  “Need to meet her.”

  “Maybe you will,” said Blaine, “someday.”

  “You got something going on with her, boss?”

  Blaine shook his head. “Nope. Not me.”

  As they approached Huntsville, the first roadblock came into view. “This is no fuckin good,” said Blaine. “They’d be past this point before the crack of fuckin dawn.” He lowered his window and stuck his head out. “Who’s heading up the search?” he hollered at the closest deputy.

  “Who are you?” The deputy’s eyes narrowed at the sight of Blaine’s long black hair wrapped with a red bandana. He held out his hand for ID and Blaine obliged. He handed over his cred pack and waited. “Uh huh, y’all can take a right on the next sideline and y’all will see a tent in the first field. Ask for Sargent O’Hara.”

  “Thanks.” Blaine put the truck in gear and took off. His cell rang in the cup holder. “See who it is, Logan.”

  Logan picked up the cell and sucked in a breath at the name on the screen. “I can’t talk to the fuckin Governor.”

  The cell continued to jangle in Logan’s hand as Blaine turned down the sideline. “Say, ‘hello’, you, asshole,” hollered Blaine.

  Logan pressed talk. “Good morning, Governor. Logan Pritchard here, sir.”

  Farrell snorted in the back seat.

  “Yes, I am, sir. I’m the new guy. Yes, uh huh. I’ll tell him that. Yes, we are. At the command post at Huntsville, sir. Yes, sir. We’ll keep you in the loop.” Logan pressed end and continued to stare at the phone.

  Blaine stared across the console. “What?”

  “The DEA are stonewalling him on the name of the

  handler. He’s taking a different way around it.”

  “Okay, good.” Blaine parked the truck and his phone rang again. “Jamie?”

  “Hey, Blaine, this just came in and I can’t say if it’s anything because I don’t even have a preliminary report yet.”

  “What have you got?”

  “Prairie Creek co-op just got ripped off. Levi’s, shirts, hats rifles and ammo. The thieves made their getaway in the

  delivery truck. They left behind a red Ford Focus.”

  “Fantastic, we’re headed there now. Thanks, Jamie.” Blaine backed out onto the road and wheeled the big diesel around.

  “Ain’t we talking to command central, boss?” asked Travis from the back seat.

  “Waste of time. Jamie found a robbery back in that little town we just came through, Prairie Creek. The feed store got robbed. The guys took clothes, guns and the delivery truck.”

  “Possible,” said Logan. “They need weapons and they need to get rid of the whites, that’s for damn sure.”

  TEN MINUTES LATER Blaine parked the big diesel in front of the co-op. Two squads were parked out front and all the lights were on. First response was there interviewing the staff inside, and a deputy outside was busy wrapping yellow tape around the beat-up Ford.

  “Farrell, take the dogs and let them give the car a good once-over. Don’t take any shit from the deputy.”

  Farrell chuckled. “No worries there, boss.” He snapped a leash on Red’s collar and shoved a handful of dog biscuits into the pocket of his jacket.

  Travis grabbed the other leash, took Bluebelle and followed his partner.

  Blaine stomped through the front door, Harley chains clanking. The air inside the store smelled strongly of oats.

  The county sheriff leaning on the front counter turned and said, “Store is closed. This is a crime scene, folks. I’m gonna have to ask y’all to wait outside.”

  Blaine flashed his credentials and elbowed his way in close to the sheriff. He spoke to the clerk behind the counter with ‘Al’ embroidered on his shirt pocket. “Al, did you get a good look at the guys that took the guns?”

  Color was high in the sheriff’s fleshy face as he faced Blaine and motioned for him to back up. “No sir, I’m not backing off. I’m tracking the escapees from Huntsville and this is a state-wide search. I believe y’all are the ones who should be giving me a little space.”

  “Fuck you, kid,” said the sheriff who had to be in his

  sixties. “Who put you in charge?”

  “That would be my boss, Governor Richardson.” Blaine whipped out his cell. “Give him a call.”

  “Bullshit. I ain’t standing down in my own county for no ganger kid wearing a red bandana.”

  “Suit yourself.” Blaine turned to Logan, “Get a list of all the clothes, guns and ammo that were taken and the tag

  number on the truck. I’ll be outside.”

  Blaine was halfway through the door when his cell rang. He checked the screen. “Shit, Mrs. Flores.” He pressed talk and whirled around to go back inside for Logan. “Hola.”

  He didn’t understand a thing she said for the next sixty

  seconds. He handed the phone to Logan, pointed to the door and waited for the clerk write the list of stolen goods.

  Logan was still talking when Blaine joined him outside. He looked up and said, “The workmen are there at the house and she’s worrying how much it will cost.”

  “Nada,” said Blaine, “tell her it’s a present for Fabiana’s birthday—make something up.”

  Logan nodded. “Yeah, okay.”

  Travis and Farrell pulled the dogs out of the Focus, and took them for a short run at the side of the co-op. Logan

  handed Blaine back his cell and lit up a smoke.

  Blaine called DPS. “Jamie, this is the tag on the s
tolen co-op truck. Can you get it out for me State-wide and ask the Chief if he’ll get it to the media people as soon as possible? They stole rifles and ammo, so make sure the Chief

  emphasizes that the men are armed and dangerous. ‘Do not approach’ and all that.”

  “Yep, doing it now. Do you think it’s them?”

  “Pretty coincidental and I’m not big on coincidences.”

  “Any descriptions besides the mug shots? What are they wearing?”

  Blaine looked at the list. “They took three pairs of Levi’s, three plaid shirts and three of the straw cowboy hats. Not too creative. They might look like triplets with rifles.”

  She giggled. “I’ll give it a shot,” she said, “the worst that could happen, is we find the guys who robbed the feed store.”

  Blaine chuckled. “Yep, that’s the worst of it.”

  JESSE HAD TWO more Lone Stars at the trailer after his conversation with Jamie Parnell. His life had done such a one-eighty, he hadn’t had time to file everything away into the proper compartments in his brain. The Jamie breakup was one of those things he hadn’t had time to deal with during the

  aftermath of his heart attack and his quickie marriage.

  He realized now, that he needed alone time to sort through everything and come to terms with it. His cell rang, and he checked the screen. “Hey, Ace, what’s up, sweetheart?”

  “Where are you, cowboy?”

  “At the office in the trailer. I had to make calls for Blacky.”

  “Any news yet where the prisoners might be headed?”

  “Haven’t heard, but Jamie was gonna call Blacky directly if she came up with something he could use. I’ll find out.”

  “You were talking to her?”

  “Uh huh. Didn’t know what to say… or what I should say, so I didn’t say much.”

  “It’s okay, baby. It will all work out in time. Why don’t you come home?”

  “Yeah, Ace. I’ll be along soon.”

  ANNIE HEADED OUT to the front porch to wait for Jesse and Race was sitting in his favorite chair with Pyewacket on his lap. In all the time Annie had known Race, he had never had the inclination or the time of day for a pet—not that she knew of. Maybe his brain injury had softened something up.