Vigilance

by Carolina Mac

  I’ll cut her fuckin tongue off.

  “I told you, I’d pay you off real good soon as I get my money back from the bitch who stole it.”

  “And I’m supposed to believe you have tons of money and somebody ripped you off?” She laughed. “Not happening.”

  “If I was closer, I’d clip you across the fuckin head.”

  “Glad you can’t reach me then.” Kirstin stuck her tongue out again and Ewing wanted to choke her.

  “How old are you anyway?”

  “Twenty-two.”

  “You act like you’re ten,” mumbled Ewing. “Make some toast or something. I’m starving to death.”

  “Got no bread and I got no money to buy bread.”

  “I’ll fix that after I eat.”

  “How you gonna do that, Superman?”

  “You just watch me.”

  FARRELL AND PABLO brought Yugo into headquarters and secured him in interrogation room two. Farrell tapped twice on the Chief’s door and stuck his head in. “Yugo is in room two, boss. He’s whining for his lawyer. Don’t know what you’ll get out of him.”

  Jesse stood up. “Good job, boys. Grab a coffee, then y’all can book him when I’m finished. Might be a short little chat if he’s lawyering up.”

  “Where’s Blacky?” asked Pablo.

  “Sitting in Mary’s car,” said Jesse. “They’re working on something for the paper. You can catch him out in the parking lot.”

  Farrell raised an eyebrow. “You need Blacky?”

  Pablo let out a breath. “Not really. Guess I’m so used to checking in after every mission I do it automatically.”

  Farrell punched him in the shoulder. “Jesse saw you. He’s the boss too and he knows you’re back.”

  JESSE set the recorder on the table in room two and sat down across from Yugo, the bookie. “Coffee or a drink, sir, before we get started?”

  “Nothing will be getting started, Ranger. I don’t say one goddam word to the cops without my lawyer present. I know my rights.”

  “Okay then, let’s cut to the chase. I’ll have the boys book you and read you your rights, then you can have your phone call.”

  “I want my call now.”

  Jesse shook his head. “Nope. Not happening in that order.” He walked to the door, pulled it open and beckoned to Farrell. “You and Pablo book him. Read him his rights and have him sign. First degree murder. Two counts. No bail.”

  Yugo shot death rays at Jesse from beady dark eyes as Farrell led him away.

  “Pablo,” said Jesse, “see you for a sec?”

  “Sure, boss.”

  “Make sure the Ranger on cell duty gets this message. No phone call for Mr. Yugo until tomorrow morning.”

  Pablo grinned. “I’ll make sure.”

  LOU THOMPSON stepped out of the shower and tore into his bedroom naked and dripping when he heard his cell. “I almost missed your call, Matts. How’s it going? Did you get the account open?”

  “I applied and now I’m waiting to get approved. I walked down the street to a little café to get some coffee while I wait. Is Ew staying away from you?”

  “Course not. He came to the club last night. He wants to know where you are.”

  “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

  “I hurt him more and I called that Latino Ranger to come get him, but Ew was gone before they got there. He had some chick helping him.”

  “Who does he know after all those years in prison?”

  “No idea. She looked like a skinny teenager. That’s all I saw.”

  “Hope she doesn’t get herself killed. Be just like him.”

  “Have you got a plan for when you come back? Like if Ew hasn’t been arrested yet—what are you gonna do?”

  “I’ve been thinking about that, and maybe I shouldn’t come back until they have him locked up.”

  “Be best if you didn’t, but I’m missing you. It’s lonely here.”

  “You can take out any money you need from your new checking account if you decide to come down here. I miss you too, sugar.”

  “Don’t think my boss would like me taking off. He’s always raving on about how my band is good for business.”

  “You and your band are his business, Lou. You guys keep that bar running. He doesn’t appreciate your talent like he should.”

  “He’s good to me, Matts. Real good.”

  MARY POLITO sat in Blaine’s truck going over the details of Mrs. Churchill’s murder. “But we’re not coming out and saying that her murder has been solved, are we, Blaine?”

  “No, we can’t do that. We might never be able to officially close it if we never find the paid hitter.”

  “You don’t think the bookie will give him up?”

  “Those mob types know better than to give up anything. As soon as they do, they’re the next fatality.”

  “Am I saying that Ward Ingram’s murder was related to Sienna Churchill’s murder?” asked Mary. “They seem so unrelated it’s hard to believe, even for me.”

  “I think for today’s column we’ll just keep it simple. Do the story on Ward Ingram—man found dead at his real estate listing by the client he was to show the property to. Don’t give the client’s name. Say a suspect has been arrested and charged. The suspect is currently in custody.”

  “Wow, you got him fast, Blaine.”

  “Farrell and Pablo brought him in this morning.”

  Mary nodded. Still pain in her dark eyes from losing Farrell.

  “TIME TO GO,” said Ewing.

  “Go where?” asked Kirstin.

  “We need money and food and we’re gonna get both.”

  “You don’t look so good tonight,” she said. “Your arm worse?”

  “Yeah, it’s swollen and red and sore as hell. I need a goddam doctor.”

  “I might know somebody,” she said.

  “Let’s get job one done first,” said Ewing, “then we’ll worry about the doctor.”

  “Whatever you say, honey. I don’t want you to hit me again.”

  “I ain’t gonna hit you. What would I hit you for?”

  “Cause I’m stupid and I can’t help it if I was born this way.”

  Ewing groaned as his left arm touched the arm rest on the car door. He steered the Nissan out of the trailer park onto the highway using only his right hand. “Where’s the closest liquor store?”

  “There’s stoplights at the next crossroad and there’s a Citgo and convenience there. Next door is a package store.”

  “Good enough.” Ewing cruised along to the next road and pulled into the gas station. “Go inside and put everything you need on the counter. Get beer and Cokes and lots of food. Tell the jerk your boyfriend is coming in to pay. And just wait there, got it?”

  Kirstin smiled. “Got it.” She hopped out of the car and ran into the store.”

  Ewing trudged across the parking lot to the liquor store, waited until the solitary customer left and went inside. He picked up a bottle of Texas bourbon, set it on the counter and pulled the Glock out of his waistband. The clerk turned to ring in his purchase and Ewing put two quick ones in his head. Blood splattered all over the bottles on the shelves behind the cash as the clerk dropped behind the counter without a sound.

  Ewing reached into the cash drawer, took all the money, picked up the bottle and jogged back to the gas station.

  Kirstin stood at the cash counter, all her purchases in plastic bags ready to go.

  “All ready, honey?” He smiled at the kid manning the cash register and asked how much.

  “Forty-three fifty.”

  Ewing peeled off two twenties and a ten from the wad of bills in his hand and said, “Keep the change.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Tuesday, March 17th.

  St. Patrick’s Day.

  THE BLACKMORE AGENCY buzzed at eight a.m., the boys hyped on caffeine and the new cases, excited for work. They were always pumped when action was in the offing.

  “Okay,” said Blaine,�
� standing at the head of the kitchen table with a coffee in his hand. “We’ve got a crime scene this morning. Lopez called with a liquor store robbery where the clerk was double tapped. I had asked him to advise me of anything that might smell like Thompson.”

  “Where was the robbery, boss?” asked Fletcher.

  “North east, out near New Sweden.”

  “Wonder why he’d be out there?”

  Blaine shrugged. “I’ll run the scene, then Farrell and Pablo will do the D to D. I can’t stay long because I’ve got to get back to the courthouse for Yugo Markowitz’s arraignment.

  “On the arraignment will be Lily and Fletcher in the surveillance unit. If Yugo makes bail—which he should not—I want him covered off every second. The junkers will help with that in shifts.”

  Lane sat with a raised brow wondering what hell he’d be assigned to. “Lane, I’ll speak to you in my office.” Blaine waved the rest out of the house. “Check your weapons and wait in the trucks, I’ll be there in a minute.”

  Blaine jogged down the narrow hallway to his office, opened the door and ushered Lane in. He closed the door and pointed to one of the club chairs in front of his desk.

  “Am I getting canned, boss?”

  Blaine smirked. “That what it feels like?”

  “Yep.”

  “That ain’t it. I’m gonna talk and you listen. This ain’t a question period.”

  “No, sir.”

  “Annie is an invisible part of my team. In truth, she doesn’t work for me at all, but for someone else. Her work is classified and never discussed.”

  “Okay.” Lane nodded.

  “In the past when she’s been on assignment, she’s used Travis for backup. But the DA favors Travis and always has for his personal protection.”

  “Okay,” said Lane. “Travis in on another job.”

  “Correct. Annie knows that. She caught a new job and she has asked for you.”

  COUNTY WINE AND LIQUOR was barricaded around the perimeter of the parking lot with squads and sawhorses. Blaine parked on the outer edge between two media vans and hopped out. Farrell parked his red Silverado behind the big black diesel.

  One of the media hounds gave a shout out as soon as Blaine stepped out of the truck. “Hey, Ranger B. Why are you here for a liquor store holdup? Something bigger going on?”

  “A man was murdered. Isn’t that big enough?” Blaine turned his back and went inside. Farrell and Pablo followed.

  The Medical Examiner was crouched down behind the counter at the head of the victim, his assistant at the foot. The cash drawer hung open. All the slots cleaned out.

  Blaine glanced around the store and all the displays were neat and tidy. “He wouldn’t have touched anything, if it was Thompson, except the cash drawer in passing. Might get a print there.”

  “Think he’s hanging out near here, boss?” asked Farrell.

  “Lou said he was with a young girl, so yeah, he might be around here if he’s bunking in with somebody until his wounds heal up.”

  Outside, Blaine shaded his eyes against the morning sun and took in the whole area. “Not much around here, ranches, a few houses. Let’s see if they shopped next door.”

  The trio trudged across a grassy ditch to the Citgo property next door. A couple of trucks were gassing up at the pumps.

  Blaine stopped at the front counter. “Were you working last night when the liquor store was robbed?”

  A blond girl with piercing in both eyebrows shook her head. “Nope, that was Sandy. He had the night shift.”

  “I’d like Sandy’s address and phone number,” said Blaine.

  “We’re not supposed to give out personal information.”

  Blaine pointed to his credentials displayed on the counter in front of her. “This is a murder investigation, Miss, and I need to talk to Sandy.”

  “Why don’t I give you his cell number and let him decide about his address?”

  “Sure, that’s fine.”

  She scribbled the number on a post-it and stuck it to Blaine’s creds. Blaine peeled it off and handed it off to Farrell. “You guys talk to Sandy.”

  Back in the truck, Blaine drove past the liquor store and cruised a couple of the side roads, found nothing and turned around. He headed the other way and did the same thing.

  “What are we looking for, boss?”

  Blaine shrugged. “Not sure.” He turned down the next side line saw the sign for the mobile home park and nodded his head. “I’ll drop y’all off at your truck. Do a door to door in that trailer park, then find the clerk, Sandy, and interview him. See what y’all come up with.”

  ENRICO GABRIELLO had a rep as one of the toughest defense attorneys in the state. Blaine hadn’t heard that he was defending wise guys, but maybe the money was too good to turn down.

  The courtroom was virtually empty for the morning’s arraignments. Blaine took a seat in the first row behind the prosecution’s table and waited to see who Perry Leighton had sent to argue for the state.

  He didn’t have to wait and wonder for long. Dan Skiffington strutted out of the ante-room in his Brioni suit, his leather briefcase tucked under his arm, and a confident smile on his face. He nodded politely to Blaine, then turned his back and sat down at his table.

  I hope Leighton had a word with the judge, although Waverley is a hard-ass at times.

  All Blaine could do was watch and listen and hope to hell the judge didn’t let another murderer loose.

  Mr. Yugo Markowitz entered his not guilty plea with Gabriello standing by his side. Once that was done, next on the agenda was the subject of bail.

  Blaine weighed the arguments as they were presented and clearly the prosecution had the best case against bail. The Judge pushed his glasses up onto his forehead and sat immersed in thought for a few moments while Blaine held his breath.

  “Bail is granted in the amount of four hundred thousand dollars.”

  “Fuck,” Blaine mumbled to himself and left the courtroom.

  Outside in the parking lot, he signaled to Fletch that he and Lily were up.

  I’d love to get a tag inside the bookie store. Wish Travis was finished at the Leighton’s.

  LANE stopped at the gate at Coulter-Ross and waited for the guard to check his credentials and let him in. Tight security, but he wasn’t clear on the reason why.

  He parked his Jeep near the six-bay garage and wondered why a woman like Annie Powell needed a garage so big. A lot of things to wonder about at Coulter-Ross and maybe someday he’d find out the answers. She was a fascinating person and one of the most beautiful women he’d ever had the pleasure of meeting.

  He knocked on the front door of the massive edifice and held his breath. Annie had asked for him for her assignment and his purpose was cloudy. He was to provide support, but support for what exactly? Guess he’d find out soon.

  A little boy opened the door. “Hi. Are you Lane? If you are, Mommy is in her office. I’ll show you.”

  “Thanks a lot,” said Lane. “What’s your name?”

  “I’m Jackson Ogilvie Powell.”

  Ogilvie. I’ve heard that name before.

  Lane followed Jackson as he ran down the hall. The little guy stopped and pointed. “Just go in. Mommy is busy.”

  Lane tapped on the door once, then opened it. “Annie, is it okay to come in?”

  She was sitting behind a gorgeous cherry desk that probably cost a year’s salary in the Navy. Her mass of black hair framed a perfect face, and while they were talking about the assignment he’d make sure not to look at her body or he’d be embarrassingly hard.

  “Sure, come on in, and thanks for driving out to the ranch. I’ve got a busy day. Stuff I have to finish, or I would’ve come in to Blaine’s place to talk to you.”

  “No problem. I get paid no matter what I’m doing, and the Agency pays way better than the Navy.”

  “You won’t get paid any more for this gig. You’re just a loaner from the Agency.” She flashed a smile, the gray eye
s sparkled, and he felt warm all over.

  “The boss didn’t give me much insight into what I’d be doing as your backup, although I’m trained to handle some pretty rough situations.”

  “If things go well, we won’t have a rough situation, but if they don’t, you can’t be sure.”

  “Your work is classified?”

  “It is. My… contact tells me what the assignment is, and I complete it as cleanly and as invisibly as possible.”

  “You and I will be the only ones who know what the assignment is?”

  “That’s right,” said Annie. “When I accepted the first job, the man—let’s call him ‘the man’—didn’t want Blaine to know I was doing this, for obvious reasons. It would upset Blaine and cause him to lose focus on his own work, and the man wouldn’t want that to happen because he pulls a lot of the Agency strings too.”

  “Oh, I thought Blacky was supremo at the Agency.”

  “He is, and he would never give up control for anyone. But he does take extra jobs when requests are made.”

  “Okay.”

  Are we talking vigilante jobs?

  “While we’re working this assignment, I’d prefer it if you stayed here at the ranch with me. Most of our scouting trips and setting up will be at night, and it’s a lot easier if we eat and sleep together.” Annie giggled. “Not sleep together, but at the same location.”

  Lane flashed her a smile. “Either one is fine with me.”

  “You can pack a bag if you’re on board and come back later tonight. I won’t go out until about ten.”

  “I’m intrigued by this assignment although I feel like I’m being kept in the dark.”

  “I don’t mean to do that, Lane. I guess I’m used to Travis knowing everything about me and the way I work. We hardly even have to talk.”

  “Takes a bit of time to get used to a new partner, and I’ve never had a female partner before.”

  “Problem with my gender?”

  Lane laughed. “Nope. I love women, but they don’t always love me. I’m not the most patient guy.”