by Carolina Mac
“Not if he’s dead,” said Lou, “but what if they don’t catch him and kill him—then he’ll care. He will care so fuckin much I can picture it now.”
“I’m not afraid of him,” said Mattie.
“I am,” said Lou. “He beat me senseless my whole life whenever he was pissed at me.” Lou took two mugs out of the cupboard and reached into the fridge for the cream. “Did he tell you how he got shot?”
“Said it was a drive-by downtown.”
“That’s a bullshit story,” said Lou. “It had to be cops. Cops are searching for him all over the city.”
ANNIE sat at the table by the window in her bedroom with her second cup of coffee. Every day she was lonelier than the day before. Without Jesse and Charity in her life she felt empty inside. Would she ever find anybody she loved as much as Jesse? “Don’t think so,” she said out loud.
Her cell rang on the table in front of her and she didn’t recognize the number. Maybe it was a business call. “Coulter-Ross,” she said.
“Can I speak to Annie, please. This is Lane Forget.”
“Oh, hi, Lane. This is Annie. Sorry, I didn’t recognize your number and I thought it might be business.”
“The business of shooting,” he said with a chuckle.
“You need help with something?”
“I do. Could you give me a time when you’re not busy?”
“How about tomorrow afternoon?”
“Perfect for me. Far as I know, I’m off. See you then.”
He’s good with his gun. Maybe he wants to work on his left hand.
BLAINE was on his way to join the boys in their search of the airport hotels when Jesse called. “Hey, boss. What’s up?”
“Wondered where you were with the Churchill murder. Without a clue on the shooter it seems to be a dead end.”
“Somebody hired the hitter,” said Blaine, “but I haven’t turned up a money trail—at least not yet—but then again, I’ve hardly had time to go deep.”
“Might have been cash,” said Jesse. “Who keeps a lot of cash lying around?”
“Guys below the radar?”
“Uh huh,” said Jesse. “This has something to do with Ingram. My gut is telling me I need to talk to him again.”
“Have him picked up and interview him at headquarters. Sometimes a formal interrogation is enough to shake them up.”
“Good idea. I want to see Calhoun anyway and see how he’s feeling after what happened to his house.”
MATTIE AND LOU drank a pot of coffee and worked out their strategy. They would each open accounts at three different banks, deposit reasonable amounts of money into savings and checking, and in each bank, they would rent safety deposit boxes for the rest of the money.
They took their bags, left the house and Lou locked the door behind them. “That car probably has a watch on it, Matts. We have to get rid of it.”
“Okay. I’ll drive it to the first strip mall we come to and dump it. You drop me off at my first bank and I’ll take cabs from there.”
Lou nodded. “I love you, Matts. Let’s do it.”
BLAINE caught up with Farrell and Fletcher at the Marriott.
“Anything yet?”
“Nope, nothing,” said Farrell.
“These are big hotels with hundreds of guests each. I’m not surprised.”
“He could be in a downtown hotel by now,” said Fletcher.
“True, he could be,” said Blaine, “But after he was shot, he’d have to come back to his original room to get the money.”
“The money from the evidence locker?” asked Fletcher.
“And the money from his old apartment building. There was a reason he went there and a lot of money from his past robberies was unaccounted for. He went for a reason, found what he was after, then burned all the evidence that he was ever there.”
EWING WOKE. His head throbbed like a sledge pounding on his brain. He tried to think, and it made the headache worse. Groggy and disoriented he rolled over onto his left side and hollered out in pain. He grunted and groaned as he struggled to get off the side that was shot. Barely able to move, the pain in his arm so intense, he tried to find a comfortable position so he could rest. Why did it hurt so fuckin much? Was the bullet still in there? Mattie didn’t say. Would she sew it up without taking the bullet out?
Only if she wanted to kill me.
Too much pain. He couldn’t stand to lie down any longer. He struggled to sit up on the side of the bed, and as soon as he was upright he knew he was gonna hurl.
Ewing stood, steadied himself with one hand on the nightstand and slowly turned in the direction of the bathroom. That’s when he saw it.
The safe is open.
“Mattie, where are you?” he called. No answer.
I’ll kill you, Mattie.
He shuffled into the bathroom, kneeled in front of the toilet and hurled everything in his stomach.
JESSE PICKED up burgers and coffee on the way to headquarters and ate lunch with Chief Calhoun in his office while he waited for Rocky and his partner to bring Ward Ingram in for questioning.
“I feel so damn bad about your house, Chief,” said Jesse. “A huge inconvenience for you and your wife.”
“Yeah, it’s a bitch all right. But I told my wife, if she wasn’t happy after it was fixed by the insurance company, we’d downsize and move into something more suitable for us now that the girls are on their own.”
“That’s why I loved my trailer,” said Jesse. “Perfect for me and the dogs. I could keep it clean without too much effort and it was plenty big enough.”
A tap on the door and Rocky stuck his head in. “Room three, Jesse. When you’re ready.”
“Thanks a bunch, Rocky. See what I can get out of him.”
Ward Ingram glared at Jesse as he entered the small room and set the recorder on the table. “Good afternoon, Mr. Ingram. Hope you didn’t mind too much coming in to talk to us.”
“I mind a lot. My life is busy, and I don’t have time for this.”
“Uh huh,” said Jesse with a grin. “I’m pretty busy myself. So, the quicker you tell me what I want to know, the quicker you will be back doing all that important stuff you need to do.”
“Ask your questions. I’ve got absolutely nothing to hide, so ask me anything.” He held up his hands. “Anything at all. One, two, three, go.”
“Who do you owe money to, Ward?”
“Umm… that’s none of your business.”
“Hey,” said Jesse, “you said you had nothing to hide.”
“Yeah, I said that, but I meant about the murder. I know nothing about that.”
Jesse pushed a lined sheet from his legal pad and a pen across the desk to Ward. “Write down who you owe money to, and how much you owe each one of them.”
“What’s that going to solve?”
“Just for a minute or two, lets presume that Sienna Churchill wasn’t the intended victim.”
Ward frowned like he couldn’t figure it out. “Okay, who would it be? Bart?”
“Could have been Bart Churchill, but we can’t find a connection or a reason for it. Let’s try another scenario.”
“Lay it down, sir.”
“The window of your condo is right beside the window that the shooter put the bullet through.”
“Yes, we’re next door.”
“Did it cross your mind that somebody might be gunning for you?”
Ward laughed. “No. they wouldn’t be.”
Jesse pointed to the sheet of paper. “Make the list and we’ll discuss it.”
Ward scribbled down a few names and figures. He laid the pen down and pushed the paper back to Jesse.
“You owe the condo people three months rent,” said Jesse, looking at the list. “That means eviction soon if you can’t catch up. Does Celia know?”
“I’m going to tell her.”
“Next is Yugo. Who’s he? Your bookie?”
Ward nodded. “I’ve had a bit of bad luck at the track.�
��
“Bad luck in the amount of a hundred and twenty-five thousand?”
Ward nodded. “I could win that back in a week.”
“But in the meantime, they might want their money,” said Jesse. “Have they put pressure on you to pay it back?”
“A few phone calls.”
“And you made promises of repayment?”
“Not empty promises.” Ward raised his voice. “I always pay them back and this time will be no different. I have a lot of great listings out in West Lake Hills. If I sell a couple of big properties this week, I’ll be all caught up.”
“Let’s talk about the last time you talked to Yugo on the phone,” said Jesse. “Did he give you a date—a deadline—that you had to pay back what you owed?”
“He mentioned a date.”
Jesse picked up his pen. “When was it?”
“A week ago. March fifth.”
“The day before Mrs. Churchill was shot,” said Jesse. “What a coincidence. You didn’t pay on March fifth, and bingo, the morning of March sixth Mrs. Churchill gets a bullet in the head. Did that ring any bells when it happened, Mr. Ingram?”
“No, it didn’t at the time. In fact, it never crossed my mind. I’ve dealt with those guys for years and we’re friends. What are you insinuating, Ranger, that Yugo sent somebody to kill me because I didn’t pay on time?”
“Could have happened that way.”
“That would never happen. Those guys are business men, not killers. You’d never make me believe it without proof.”
“No proof yet. All we have is the bullet removed from Sienna Churchill’s head during the autopsy. That alone will be proof enough when we find the gun.”
Ward fiddled with his hands. “I think you’re wrong. If that scenario was true they would have tried again, wouldn’t they?”
“Unless you’ve made a payment,” said Jesse. “If they think they can get their money back, they might give you a break.”
“I’m strapped for cash right now.”
Jesse stood up and turned off the recorder. “If I were you, Mr. Ingram, I’d watch my back.”
Ward Ingram looked a little pale as he left the interrogation room. “Thanks for the advice, Ranger.”
BLAINE sent the boys home after an exhausting day of searching for Ewing Thompson. The fucker would rear his ugly head when they least expected it and more people would be dead. Count on it.
On the way home from the airport area at the east end of the city, Blaine had taken a detour and circled north looking for Mattie Larch. Lou and Mattie’s house was locked up tight and nobody was there. Jack and Greg could take surveillance on the house overnight in case she happened to come home. He’d send Farrell to watch Lou and the band at the club. See if Mattie dropped in there.
Blaine drank his second Corona while Carm buzzed around the kitchen making a late dinner for he and Farrell. Misty and Carm had already eaten. His cell rang. DPS.
“Hey Freddie, got something?”
“The rented Lexus that Thompson was driving turned up abandoned at a strip mall in the north end. I sent a tow.”
“Great, thanks, Freddie. He must have changed rides, or he’s holed up licking the bullet hole Lane put in him.”
“Glad we got one slug in him, Ranger B, after what he did to the Chief. Take a bit of the devil out of him.”
Blaine chucked. “Yeah, but how much?”
After dinner, Blaine did a bit of research into Mattie Larch and found out she worked at Saint David’s. He put a call into the head of the nursing staff at the hospital and was informed Miss Mattie had called in sick to work.
Okay, where is she?
FARRELL HIT T n T around ten and Lou was at the mic blasting out one of his own tunes. The guy was great. An amazing talent. Too bad he was mixed up in his brother’s downward spiral.
I’d hate to see Lou dead. He’s going places.
Farrell drank a pitcher of Lone Star and listened to the first set while he watched for Mattie. When the band took a break, Lou noticed him and nodded as he headed to the men’s room.
He’ll warn Mattie off if she was coming to the roadhouse.
CHAPTER TEN
Saturday, March 14th.
EWING SLEPT the clock around. As furious as he was about the safe being empty, he was smart enough to realize he couldn’t do anything about it until he was stronger. Hell, he couldn’t even walk to the bathroom and back without lying down for twenty minutes to fuckin recover.
He’d ordered food the night before around eight o’clock and had eaten most of the steak and half the potato before he had to lie down again. He swallowed a double dose of the pain pills Mattie had left for him and crashed. He hadn’t heard a sound for twelve hours and felt better for it. A little better.
The throbbing pain in his arm was picking up the pace and that might have been what woke him up. He hoisted himself up onto the side of the bed and reached for the packet of pills Mattie had put there. None left.
I’ll have to buy Advil or something stronger.
The house phone rang on the nightstand and he thought about not answering, but the button was flashing for the front desk and the last thing he wanted was some dumb ass coming to his room to check on him. “Yeah?”
“I noticed on your account, Mr. Hunt, that you’re due to check out this morning and I wondered if you’d like to extend your stay with us?”
“One more day,” Ewing said in a whisper. He couldn’t check out. Not yet.
“And how will you be paying for the extra day, sir?”
“Cash. I’ll pay cash.”
“Thank you, sir. Have a wonderful day.”
Ewing reached for his wallet on the nightstand. “How much do I have?” He glanced across the room at the empty safe and his temper flared.
I’ll kill her.
TRAVIS did a careful check of the house before allowing Mr. and Mrs. Leighton into their home. He returned to his truck, helped an ailing Mrs. Leighton down from the side step, then retrieved her luggage from the back. The DA grabbed hold of his own suitcase and walked alongside Travis with one hand supporting his wife.
“Wonderful to be getting back home, isn’t it, honey?”
“It is, dear,” Mrs. Leighton smiled at her husband, “although Adele treated me like a queen at her house. She spoiled me.”
Travis held the door while the Leightons entered and got settled inside. He’d had little to do since this assignment began and he wished Thompson was behind bars, so he could go back to his regular work with the team.
BLAINE CALLED Mattie Larch’s employer again—Saint David’s hospital—to see if she’d shown up for work this morning.
The woman in charge of scheduling the nursing staff, a Miss Amy Winslow, didn’t sound pleased that Mattie had not come in for her shift. “No, Ranger Blackmore, she didn’t come in for her seven o’clock shift and she didn’t call to let me know she wasn’t coming. Very unlike Mattie. She’s one of our best nurses. Always on time and always dependable.”
“If you hear from her, Ms. Winslow, would you please contact me at this number. It’s urgent.”
“Is Mattie in some kind of trouble with the law, Ranger Blackmore?”
“She may have gotten herself in a bad situation. It would be best for her if I found her quickly.”
“I see. I hope she calls me.”
Farrell sat down with a cup of coffee and heard the end of the conversation. “Where the hell is she, bro? Not at Lou’s house and she ain’t at work.”
Blaine shrugged. “Either Ewing has her in his hotel room—if they haven’t already split—or she got away from him and she’d hiding somewhere.”
“But you can be damn sure, Lou knows where she is,” said Farrell. “I say bring him in and have Jesse question him. Be the quickest way.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” said Blaine. “Let’s pick him up, bring him in and formally question him. Show him we ain’t playing nice anymore. We’ll call Jesse on the way.”
&n
bsp; Farrell grinned. He was an action guy.
JESSE plopped Charity down in her playpen in the corner of the training ring. “You play with your toys while Daddy trains the horses, okay?”
“Ty,” she said. “Play Ty.”
“You can’t play with Tyler today, he has a horse show. I should be helping him, but I can’t. Paulie will help him.”
Charity pointed at the cell and Jesse smiled. “Yep, its ringing.”
“Hey, Blacky.”
“Farrell and I are going to bring Lou Thompson in for an interview. Do you want to handle it?”
“Aw, shit, I can’t. Sorry. Ty and Paulie are at a show and I have Charity to watch and training to do for a customer.”
“Don’t worry about it. I can do it, and the way things have been going, we might not even find him. Seems we can’t find our own asses.”
“Don’t get down on yourself, kiddo. You’ll bring Thompson in. Takes work.”
“Ain’t that the truth.”
BOSS ain’t coming?” asked Farrell as they pulled into Lou Thompson’s driveway.
“The boys are at a horse show and he has Charity to look after and training to do.”
Farrell shrugged. “You can handle it.”
“Course I can.” Blaine parked directly behind Lou’s truck, so he couldn’t get out of the drive. “Jesse just has a lot more patience than I do, and he gets more out of them.” Blaine pointed. “What do you want? Front or back?”
“I’ll take the back.” Farrell grinned. “If he’s rabbiting, I get the best chance to take him down. And I might not be gentle.”
Blaine shook his head and rang the bell while Farrell shot around the corner of the garage and headed for the back entrance.
Lou wore a tired and pissed off look on his face when he opened the door. “You guys here again?”
“I’d like you to come to headquarters and talk to us, Mr. Thompson. Things have heated up and we need you to be forthcoming.”
“I ain’t going to DPS, I’ll tell you that right now.” He tried to push the door shut and Blaine shoved his Harley boot in the crack. “Do you want me to use force, Mr. Thompson?”
