by Carolina Mac
Fletcher moaned and tried to get out from under the airbag. His side of the truck was smashed in by the frame of the bus shelter and his door wouldn’t open.
“Don’t take her, Ew,” yelled Lou from the back seat. “Please, don’t kill Mattie.”
Trapped in the truck, Pablo called 911 first, then Jesse.
JESSE’S CELL rang as Misty was about to start her session with Ewing Thompson’s shirt. Jesse listened to what Pablo was saying and couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “He took Mattie right out of your fuckin truck?”
“Not a damn thing we could do about it, boss. He sideswiped me, smashed in our front doors and the air bags fuckin trapped us.”
“Are you or Fletch hurt?”
“Sore from the airbags and we’ll have fuckin black eyes but that’s about it.”
“First response there to help you?”
“They’re here now and we’ll call for a tow,” said Pablo. “We’ve still got Lou Thompson cuffed in the back.”
“Have the first response officers take you, Fletch and Lou to headquarters. Farrell is there, and he’ll transport you when you’re finished with your report. Don’t hesitate to get checked out at the hospital and don’t worry about your truck, son, the Agency will cover the damages.”
“I’m more pissed about Mattie Larch, boss. We lost her and she’s the fuckin key.”
BLAINE AND ANNIE returned from Saint Michael’s after Jack made it through surgery and moved into ICU. Stable for the moment, his doctor said Jack would be heavily sedated for the next twelve hours and wouldn’t be allowed visitors for another twelve after that, even if all went well.
“Stay for a while, Mom,” said Blaine as he parked his truck. “Have a beer with me while I pull myself together and sort things out.”
“Okay, honey. I can stay for a bit. Lane and I won’t be working until much later.”
Jesse greeted them in the foyer and gave Blaine a hug. “Misty is almost ready to do her thing and I think you should sit with her like you usually do, son.”
Blaine nodded, put the Corona he desperately wanted on hold and strode down the hall to the office. He crossed the room, leaned down and held Misty in his arms. “I need this, sweetheart,” he whispered. “Whatever you can give me.”
With sympathetic blue eyes brimming with tears, she said, “I’ll do my best, Beb.”
With Blaine watching over Misty, Jesse left the office to speak privately with Annie. Lane stayed seated in the corner of the room to watch Misty.
Blaine moved the other wing chair closer to Misty and eyed her while she tried to relax and settle in with Ewing’s shirt in her hands.
Am I putting too much pressure on her?
She let out a little breath and held the shirt closer to her body. A visible shiver shook her, and Blaine’s first instinct was to tell her to stop.
Misty closed her eyes and sat that way for so long Blaine thought she might have fallen asleep, but then she began whispering in the low ‘psychic voice’ he’d come to recognize.
Blaine leaned closer to hear what she was mumbling. Sometimes the words weren’t clear, and often the sentences were fragmented.
“Underground. Broken room. Sneaks in at night. So dark.”
Like a crack house?
“Where does he go in the daytime?” Blaine whispered.
“The dogs know.”
The dogs know? Somewhere the dogs have been?
“Can you see where he’s hiding at night, Mist?”
She nodded her head and her blonde curls bounced.
“What does it look like?”
“Garage. Big garage.” She sat still, her hands with a death grip on the arms of the chair.
Blaine recognized the sign. He reached out and took her hand. “That’s enough for now. I’ll make you some tea.”
Misty opened her eyes and smiled at him. “I love you, Blaine.”
PABLO AND FLETCHER arrived at headquarters in a squad car and Farrell met them at the back door. Together they ushered a cuffed Lou Thompson into the building. Lou hollered and raved without letup about finding Mattie before his brother killed her.
Farrell turned to the uniform who’d brought the guys in. “Put Mr. Thompson in an empty interview room and get him a coffee, would you?”
“Sure thing, Donovan.”
With Lou out of the way, Farrell turned his attention to his crew and looked Pablo and Fletch up and down. Blue bruising had already seeped into the swelling around their eyes and noses from the airbag impact. “I heard what happened. You guys okay?”
Pablo nodded, and he seemed a little more stable than Fletcher.
“Fletch, do you want to get checked at Emerg?”
He shook his head, but Farrell wasn’t convinced. “Tell me what’s hurting because I can see on your face that something is.”
Fletch rubbed his right arm. “My arm’s kicking up a bit where the door caved in on it.”
“Fuck, yeah,” said Farrell. “Broken or even a slight fracture, you still need an X-ray. I’ll get Rocky to take you.”
“No, I’m okay.”
Farrell grinned. “X-rays for both you guys, then y’all are done for today. Beat it.”
Pablo nodded.
JESSE stepped into interrogation room three and sat down across from Lou Thompson, his long hair hanging in tangled clumps over his face.
“Why do I need cuffs on? I haven’t done anything.”
“The boys told me you refused to come in for questioning and then resisted arrest. We’ll hold you on that charge until your brother is caught.”
“I can take care of myself,” said Lou with a sneer. “I don’t need cops looking out for me.”
“Just like you took care of Mattie?” asked Jesse.
Lou lunged for Jesse, but being shackled to the table, all he accomplished was tearing the skin from his wrists.
“Where’s the money, Lou? Mattie’s going to tell Ewing and I want to be there to grab him when he shows up to get it. Tell me where y’all stashed it. Bank? Credit Union? Investment Broker?”
“That’s our money,” said Lou. “Mattie said it was hers and I’m telling y’all nada.”
“Stolen money, Lou. Your brother stole that money, then Mattie stole it from him. That does not make it your money or Mattie’s. Far from it.”
Jesse checked the Rolex Annie gave him for his birthday. “I’ve got a press conference coming up in ten minutes and after I’m finished, the whole city will be looking for Ewing. If you don’t tell me where the money is and help me find Mattie, she’s dead, Lou. Your brother is going to kill her and it’s on you. Think about that while you sit in your cell.”
MARY POLITO had everything set up for the media in the boardroom at headquarters. Chief Calhoun faced the cameras first and explained how Ewing Thompson was the prime suspect in the bombing of the train station and the bus depot, and he was also wanted in connection with several other murders.
Jesse showed the most current picture they had of the suspect and appealed to the public to help them find Thompson as quickly as possible. They might only get crank calls, but they were running out of options.
“Where’s Ranger B?” asked one of the regular reporters on the crime beat. “He usually talks to us.”
“He’s working on another angle,” said Jesse. “But he may need y’all later in the day.”
“Okay, great. Thanks. He always gives us good stuff.”
AT MIDNIGHT Annie hopped in the shotgun seat of her truck and Lane took the wheel.
“Bad day for the boss,” said Lane. “Hope we find that maniac soon.”
“What did Misty say?”
“Bunch of garbled stuff. Dark places and big garages. Didn’t make a lick of sense to me.”
“Blaine will figure it out. He always does.”
“Do you believe she can see stuff like that from feeling the asshole’s shirt?” asked Lane.
“Oh, yeah,” said Annie. “I’m a believer. I had a ghost in my
antique store once.”
“Uh huh.” Lane didn’t ask any more questions. He piloted the truck to the target’s address and cruised by slowly. No vehicle in the driveway.
“Damn,” said Annie. “I wanted to get his car tagged tonight.”
“Today was a write-off with everything else going on,” said Lane. “Let’s hang around until he comes home and tag him.”
“Yeah. We can’t afford to waste another day.”
MATTIE struggled but she couldn’t move. In total darkness, she was lying on something rock hard and her back ached. Her hands and feet were bound together and numb. She wanted to scream for help, but the gag in her mouth kept her from making a sound.
Tears flowed uncontrollably from her eyes and remorse filled her. Why did she take Ewing’s money? He said she could take a hundred thousand. Why wasn’t that enough? She’d been filled with greed when she saw how much money there was in the hotel safe and now she’d signed her own death warrant.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Thursday, March 19th.
BLAINE WOKE before dawn and his first thought was for Jack.
Did he make it through the night?
He left Misty sleeping and took the dogs to the back yard for a run. Sitting on the top step, Blaine lit up a smoke and called the hospital. Jack was on the critical list, but his vital signs had improved slightly.
Slightly. I guess that’s as much as we could hope for.
“Fuck,” Blaine said as he pressed end. Before he set his cell down beside him it rang, and the screen showed Austin Homicide. “Morning, Lieutenant. Early for you to be working.”
“Fuck you, Blacky. You’re polluting the city with fuckin corpses.”
“Who we talking about this time?”
“Yugo Markowitz. Recognize the name?”
“Pro hit?”
“Double tapped and floating under the Congress Avenue bridge.”
“He’s a player in the Churchill murder. Send him to our morgue.”
“Thanks, buddy. I knew I could count on you.”
LILY arrived for work at ten to eight and headed straight to her office to sift through the sightings the news conference from the day before had undoubtably produced.
Blaine followed and perched on the corner of her desk while she booted up her desktop. Farrell came in with a coffee in his hand and looked over her shoulder.
“We gotta find him today or Mattie Larch is a goner.”
“If Ewing got the info he needed, she could be toast already,” said Blaine. “He won’t waste time. He’ll take the money and run.”
“If he happened to get to the money today,” said Farrell, “where would he go?”
“Quickest is Mexico,” said Blaine, “but if the money is already off-shore and none of it is still here, he might try for that destination.”
“We got a watch on the airport?” asked Farrell.
Blaine nodded. “I’m gonna get a coffee and try to figure out something from what Misty said.” He strode down the hall to the kitchen still talking to Farrell behind him. “The clue is there, I’m sure of it. She’s always been close, and the answer is there. I just haven’t put the pieces together yet.”
When they both had coffee refills and Farrell had a muffin to keep him going, they went back to Blaine’s office. “Let’s work on it together, bro.” Farrell closed the office door and sat down in front of the desk. “Write down everything she said,” Farrell shoved Blaine’s yellow pad towards him, “then we’ll put all the clues together.”
EWING PARKED in the lot and waited until two or three hikers disappeared down the path into the wilderness park. When the way was clear, he helped a black and blue Mattie out of the passenger seat and slipped a strong arm around her waist. “Don’t try to run or I’ll shoot you in the head.”
“Why are you bringing me here?” Mattie sobbed. “I told you what you wanted to know. Go get the money, Ew and let me go home to Lou.”
Ewing smiled. “We could have had it all, Mattie. All you had to do was wait for me, girl. Could you do that? No way. You had to screw around with my brother behind my back. Then you decided you needed all the money too. You greedy bitch. You blew your chances.”
“I’ll be nice to you, baby. Super nice. I’m the one who knows you best. I know everything you like.”
“Too little too late, Matts.” He dragged her off the path that led to the ravine and pulled her through a clump of evergreens into a thick stand of forest.
“Ow, these branches are hurting me.”
Ewing grinned at her discomfort. “That’s nothing, Matts. Wait till we get to the main event.” He laughed out loud. “Pick a tree.” He waved his arm to show her the choices. “It’ll be the last choice you ever make.”
“I said I was sorry, Ew. I shouldn’t have taken all of it and I admit it.” Mattie began sobbing in earnest as Ewing lashed her tightly to a tall ash tree with blue and white vinyl clothesline rope.
Ewing stood in front of her waving a roll of silver duct tape. “Any last words?”
“Help,” Mattie hollered, but it came out garbled as Ewing covered her mouth and wound the duct tape twice around her head.
“Bye, Mattie.” Ewing pulled a long knife with a serrated edge out of the sheath on his belt and held it up in front of Mattie’s terrified eyes.
“Ready, Matts?”
He winked at her.
BLAINE AND FARRELL stared at the clues Misty had given them.
“What’s a broken room?” asked Farrell.
“Let’s think about all the clues together,” said Blaine, “starting with a huge garage.”
“Okay,” said Farrell, “but he only goes to the huge, dark garage at night. In the daytime, he goes to a place the dogs know.”
“Our dogs?” asked Blaine, “or dogs in general—like a park where dogs walk?”
“We could use the dogs to find him,” said Farrell, “if we had one tiny clue where to start them off.”
“Misty gave us the clues, we just haven’t got the picture yet.”
“What if she tried again?” asked Farrell, “would she get any more information?”
“I have no idea. Want me to ask her?”
“Maybe I’m stupid but I can’t figure it out,” said Farrell.
There was a tap on the door and Lily stuck her head in. “I’ve got three or four sightings from last night that are similar. A blond guy looking a lot like Ewing Thompson was seen sneaking around the barricaded area near the bus terminal.”
“Yes,” hollered Farrell. He jumped to his feet and waved his arms, “a huge garage and it probably has more than one broken room after the bombing.”
“Fuck, yeah,” said Blaine. “Let’s go get him.”
ON THE WAY downtown to the bus terminal, Blaine called headquarters and asked the Chief to round up all the manpower he could spare. “Thompson probably won’t be there in the daytime according to Misty, but we might find something,” said Blaine.
“The guy is slippery,” said the Chief. “I’ll send everybody who isn’t tied up on a case.”
“Thanks, Chief.”
Blaine arrived before any of the squads and parked next to the tarped end of the building. The place swarmed with demolition guys getting rid of the rubble, and construction workers in hardhats starting on the rebuilding.
“Let’s start on broken rooms,” said Farrell. “See if he left anything for us.”
Blaine ducked under the tape that said, ‘do not go beyond this point’ and stepped carefully through the debris that hadn’t been cleared. “Is there a basement?” he hollered to one of the workers.
“Only under the office area. Keep going to the next room, then take a left.”
Blaine gave him a two-fingered wave. “Okay, thanks.”
Farrell found the door with steps leading to the lower level and flicked the switch at the top of the stairs. “No power in this part, bro.”
“Got a flash?”
“Yeah, I brought one,” said Fa
rrell, “I’ll go ahead.” He shone the light in an arc in front of him and all there was at the bottom of the stairs was junk. Broken cardboard file boxes with old records strewn all over the floor.
Once Blaine was all the way down, they explored the dark and musty smelling area. In the far corner of an empty storage room was a cot with a bare mattress.
Farrell shone the light on the cot and focused on a scrap of paper. “Got a pair of gloves?”
Blaine pulled latex gloves out of his back pocket and slipped them on before picking up the paper. Farrell shone the light and Blaine read the message aloud.
“Three steps behind.”
FARRELL leaned on the barricade at the side of the bus terminal, his back to the blown out wall and smoked while Blaine made calls. The first one to the Chief, the second to the forensic unit and the third to Lily.
“Lil, good call on the bus terminal,” said Blaine. “He’s been here, and the fucker left us a note.”
“Saying what?”
“We’re three steps behind.”
“Does that mean what I think it does?”
“Yep. Probably.”
“I can’t imagine,” said Lily, “How can it get any worse? Umm… did you call me for a reason?”
“Uh huh. Is Misty up?”
“She had her cards spread out on the kitchen table when I got a refill on my coffee.”
“Good. Bring her to me, would you? I’m standing outside the terminal waiting on the techs.”
“Sure thing. We’ll be there shortly.”
LANE nursed his second coffee at the long harvest table in Annie’s kitchen. Pablo had called and briefed him on everything that was going on and he felt like a goddam slacker sitting on his ass and only doing a bit of recon at night. Annie might know what she was doing, and he liked her more than a little, but he felt useless as hell being her backup.
“What are you looking so thoughtful about?” she sat down beside him with a pad and a pen.
