Quick Sands: A Theo Ramage Thriller (Book 1)

by Edward J. McFadden III

  Ramage yelled, “FBI. They’re coming your way!”

  Another burst of fire and the post office filled with dust and smoke.

  Silence. A stray shot. Someone yelled. The helicopter’s rotors pounded like thunder.

  Men dressed in black, their faces covered, entered via the main entrance of the post office, and fanned out like ants searching for a crumb.

  “Lay flat. Hands where they can see them,” Ramage said.

  Anna looked at him with vacant eyes.

  He laid the Heckler on the floor, grabbed Anna, and pushed her to the ground. He laid next to her, arms stretched over his head. “We’re here. We’re unarmed. Here!”

  Several tense seconds past as the assault team moved through the building. “Over here,” one of the men yelled.

  Ramage looked up into the face of Darth Vader. He saw his reflection in the faceplate of the agent, the black plastic covered in a thin sheen of dust.

  Then they were surrounded, jerked to their feet, and their wrists bound with zip ties. As they were led outside Ramage watched the agents find the bodies. They sealed the room with a ribbon of yellow tape and moved on. Damn, Ramage thought. He was hoping for a little crime scene contamination.

  Ramage and Anna were dragged outside and asked to kneel and put their hands behind their heads. If Ramage didn’t know better, he’d think he was being executed. Anna was to his left, and the man with the dark hair and sunglasses, and another man kneeled next to them. Off to the side two white tarps covered the bodies of the other two goons he’d seen.

  The black spot of the helicopter had grown, and as the Bell 206 descended it kicked up a hurricane of dust. Sand bit Ramage’s face, irritating his wounds. His broken ribs ached, and his ears still rang. He tried to work out the story he’d come up with, but it was like he was drunk. His eyes hurt, and he wanted to go to sleep.

  One of the agents in riot gear pulled up his faceplate and walked down the line of prisoners, but said nothing. The two guys from the Sandman’s crew stared at the ground, most likely contemplating how they could blame everything on their dead partners. He looked further down the line at the covered corpses, and though he should’ve been happy that three more would soon be added to the pile, he wasn’t happy. He wasn’t anything.

  The helicopter roared one last time before it touched down and the turbine cycled down. Dust filled the air, and Ramage sneezed hard. He went to wipe his nose, but zip ties bit into his wrists because his hands were tied behind his back, the correct way.

  Four agents dressed in full battle gear poured from the Bell 206 and fanned out around the copter. The rotors slowed, and the wind gusted and tore away the clouds of sand and dust. A man wearing a dark blue suit, red tie, and mirrored sunglasses emerged from the copter. He strode through the fog of dust and swirling sand as if it wasn’t there, the lapels of his jacket twisting in the wind. He spoke to one of the agents who waited for him, then nodded and came their way.

  The agent with his face shield lifted stepped aside as the man in the suit approached. He nodded at the agent and pulled off his sunglasses. The man squinted, but Ramage still saw his cool gray eyes. The suit walked down the line of prisoners and stopped before Ramage.

  “Free these two,” the man said.

  An agent stepped forward and cut the zip ties, and Ramage flexed and rubbed his wrists. Anna stared at the ground in shock.

  The suit said, “Get up. Please.” He held out his hand.

  “Rex?” Ramage said.

  “Nice to finally meet you Ramage.”

  Chapter Forty-One

  The day was overcast and rainy. Christmas was in four days, but Ramage didn’t feel very festive. He thought about buying Anna a gift as he watched Rex pace behind the Gutierrez house, his hands flying around as he talked on his cell phone. The phone call would determine Ramage’s fate, but strangely he felt nothing. No apprehension, no fear. What would be, would be. He added that one to his mantra list.

  Pain raced from his ribs to the tips of his toes and he grimaced. He had four cracked rips, a broken finger, and quoting the nurse who patched him up, he had “more contusions than a peach that’s been run through a washing machine.” He’d taken a few aspirin, but a dull throb of pain hung just below the surface and reared its head when he moved or shifted position. When he’d complained to Anna, she’d said, “Then don’t move.”

  Big Blue was in the driveway behind Anna’s truck, her father’s car, and Rex’s cliché black Tahoe with tinted windows. Off to the side was Gypsy and Cecil’s camper van. Anna had taken the news of their deaths hard, and any reservations he’d held about killing Jaybird, Ace, and Piranha fled like birds after a long winter.

  Rex yelled into the phone, really pouring it on. Ramage wanted to believe—did believe—that the agent was trying to do the right thing by him, but the law was the law and Ramage was on his last chance. He wanted to tell whoever Rex was talking to that he’d changed since the first incident. He’d been lost then, rudderless, and he’d acted out of anger and grief. That’s not what happened this time, and on some level Ramage felt like redemption was his. He had a new life and a new girl… maybe.

  Rex stopped pacing, tapped on his phone, and slipped it in a pocket. He took off his suit jacket and tossed it over his shoulder, holding it with a finger. He put his other hand on his hip and stared at Ramage who stood behind the screen door of the Gutierrez kitchen.

  Anna sat at the table drinking coffee, papers and an open envelope on the table before her.

  “What’s that,” Ramage said, pointing at the documents.

  She watched him. Anna wasn’t herself yet, but she was on her way back. “After everything that’s happened, I’m reactivating my blood donor card.”

  Ramage chuckled.

  “Looks like you’re up. Good luck.” She got up and pecked him on the cheek and disappeared into the living room.

  He took a deep breath and went outside to discover his fate.

  As he walked, he went through his story one more time. He’d been held hostage in the room next to the office where the murders had taken place, but he heard what was said and saw some of the action through holes in the interior walls. Ace had been hanging from the hook and Jaybird and Carl Jr. argued as Jaybird beat Ace. Things went bad, something about Chiclet being killed, and Jaybird threatened Carl Jr.. When Piranha went to leave Jaybird shot him, with the intention of taking over as boss. When Jaybird continued pounding on Ace, the big man managed to shoot Jaybird, only to break his neck in a fall as he struggled to get himself off the hook. Thin shit, but would it hold?

  Ramage arrived at Rex’s side and the government man said, “You really stepped in it this time, man. What the hell is it with you?”

  Ramage said nothing. Mantra one.

  Rex sighed. “There are a few holes in your story, but I assume you know that?”

  Mantra one.

  “The rope used to tie-up Ace had already been used to secure someone else. That was easy to see. There were pieces of rope and rope fibers all over the room.”

  “So they reuse rope. What of it?”

  Rex smiled. “Yeah, what of it. I wonder what we’d find if we pulled some DNA for testing off the rope? Also, I can’t figure how Ace managed to shoot Jaybird. The angle is all wrong and with his hands tied it just doesn’t make sense.”

  “Some kind of unusual accident, I’d guess,” Ramage said. “You know I dropped a pencil while I was driving a few weeks ago and I couldn’t find the damn thing. Stopped the truck and searched. It disappeared only to be found a day later in the passenger footwell.”

  They stood there for a few minutes, Rex staring at him, a quizzical expression on his face.

  “So what’s the deal? Am I done?”

  Rex sighed. “Done? For what? I’ve got no crime. No outstanding complaints. So as far as the bureau is concerned, you weren’t involved in a crime—other than murder, but you didn’t do that, did you?”

  Ramage said nothing.


  “The position of the bureau is that there was an internal dispute within the Piranhio crime family that led to the deaths of several gang members. Once assets start getting sold off we’ll move in on the rest of the crew. The compound has been searched, everyone working there arrested, all the evidence and weapons seized, and there’s enough to justify any action taken. In the end the good guys won, and once again that saved your ass.”

  Ramage said, “What about my trees?”

  Rex took his jacket off his shoulder, reached into an inside pocket, and brought out an envelope. He handed it to Ramage and flung his jacket back over his shoulder.

  Ramage opened the packet and found a stack of hundred-dollar bills. There were three bundles that looked to have a hundred bills each. “Where the hell did this come from?”

  “Let’s just say Piranha may have wanted some recompence from you for his father, but you got it from him. Heartburn pay. Half is for Anna and Santino for… overlooking the damage to their land.”

  “Why overlook? Shouldn’t the sand theft be part of your case?”

  “We don’t want to complicate things. The Sandman’s operation ran a company called Portable Thrones, and that’s where we’ll get anyone trying to take over the Sandman’s business.”

  “I saw his porta potties at the fracking mine. What the heck do they have to do with anything?”

  “Turns out Portable Thrones has state contracts to provide bathrooms to construction sites and other state projects.”

  Ramage knitted his eyebrows and squinted.

  “State laws are complex, but think of it this way; they got Al Capone on tax evasion, and we’re going to get the Sandman’s associates for defrauding the state.”

  Ramage laughed. “What about the sheriff? He’s going along with all this?”

  “He’s on vacation. Claims he wasn’t around much the last week and didn’t know anything about what Carl and his crew were up to. Unless you want to press the issue of your kidnapping—which I suggest you don’t—he’ll walk for now, but have faith his involvement in this won’t be forgotten. His time will come.”

  “And Chic?”

  “That one is still a mystery, what with all the major players laying on slabs in Odessa. We figure the Sandman got pissed, or probably Carl Jr..”

  “Yeah, Piranha talked to him like he was garbage, but the guy was married to his sister. Never thought he’d kill his sister’s husband.”

  “With this crew it wouldn’t surprise me if that’s what the sister wanted.”

  Ramage nodded.

  With their business concluded both men stood looking at each other, unsure what came next. So Ramage filled the silence. “What about the fracking company? The refinery? The Sandman had to have people on the inside at both places.”

  “We’ll follow-up when the time is right, and everything has cooled down.”

  “And Ride?”

  “Thanks to you the state drug enforcement taskforce now has it on their radar. You done good there, Ramage. You got a dangerous drug off the streets. Between you and me? I think that’s why the big guy set you free.”

  Those were the words Ramage was waiting to hear. “One more thing, since I did such a good job.”

  Rex’s eyes grew wide and he looked to the sky like a parent who can’t believe their child doesn’t know when to quit. “What is it?”

  “Right after I was attacked. When I was on my way here, I stole a gun from an off duty cop up in Dallas.”

  Rex sighed loud and hard.

  “I left the guy a note. Promised the gun wouldn’t fall into the wrong hands. It was a Glock 19 service pistol. They took it off me at the compound, so you should have recovered it, and I’d like to ask that lead not be pursued.”

  Rex stared at him, but said nothing.

  “I made a promise.”

  Rex nodded. “OK.” He pulled on his jacket and held out his hand.

  Ramage shook it.

  Rex gave Ramage a new phone, and said, “I’ll expect to hear from you the day after Christmas, and I’ll have a new secure laptop shipped out to you.”

  Ramage nodded, unable to keep a smile from spreading across his face.

  “Hope I never see you again,” Rex said.

  “Yeah,” Ramage said, still stunned.

  Rex turned and went to the Tahoe, jumped into the driver’s seat, and drove off.

  Ramage wandered back into the house and found Anna and Santino sitting at the breakfast table. They both looked at him expectantly when the screen door slapped closed. He stood there for a second, taking in the smell of coffee.

  After a minute, Anna said, “So?”

  “It never happened as far as we’re concerned.”

  Anna looked at her father who was shaking his head.

  “So, we’re in the clear?”

  Ramage nodded. “Oh, except for this.” He tossed the envelope full of cash on the table.

  Anna opened it and whistled. “Where’d you get that? Whose is it?”

  “Half of it is yours.”

  “For what?”

  “Reparations,” Ramage said.

  Santino smiled and spoke for the first time. “Ramage, when I came here there was nothing. No town. No houses, and people asked me why I wanted to live here. Why I stayed all these years. You know why?”

  Ramage shook his head no.

  “Because it’s mine.”

  Outside a bird screeched.

  “So, what are your plans now?” Santino said. He glanced at his daughter who stared at the table.

  Ramage said nothing. It was decision time and the rational part of him was saying put down roots and hold on tight, but the other part, the part that wanted to wander the open roads, pushed back.

  Santino cleared his throat. “They gonna get you your flatbed trailer back?” he asked.

  Ramage said, “Tomorrow. They’re tearing apart the compound as we speak.”

  “Well, I was talking with Grady at Lucy’s—he runs the local equipment supply place, and he said he’s got a shipment of heavy gear he needs picked up in Seattle in two weeks and brought back here. Said he’d pay a good price if you’d be willing to haul the stuff. He used to contract with the Sandman’s company, not that he had any choice.”

  “That sounds… good.” Ramage realized Santino was helping him out, while still looking out for his daughter. It was clear to anyone paying attention that Anna and Ramage had feelings for each other, but would it be such a bad idea to take a break and think things through a little? Give each other a little space? They’d been through a lot, and relationships that start because of stressful or dangerous situations usually don’t stand the test of time. He didn’t want the events of the last few days to define their relationship.

  He got up from the table and said, “Thank you, Santino. That sounds like a great idea.” Ramage felt like a ton of bricks had been removed from his back.

  Santino smiled at his daughter, got up, and left Anna and Ramage alone, clearly comfortable in the knowledge there’d be no rushed wedding or other nonsense.

  When Santino was gone, Ramage said, “And before you ask. No, you can’t come with me.”

  She frowned, then smiled. “Take all the time you need. I don’t want you here if you don’t want to be here.”

  Ramage took her in his arms and kissed her.

  Anna’s phone buzzed, and they broke their embrace and she frowned.

  “Who is it?”

  “That truck driver we rousted keeps calling trying to get me to go to dinner like I promised.”

  Ramage said nothing, but felt heat spread over his face.

  “What should I tell him, Ramage?”

  “The Sandman is dead. No need—”

  “You know what I mean.”

  He smiled. “I’ll be back in a couple of weeks.” He knew many things could happen in a couple of weeks, but what the hell. He had plans. Did that make him normal? Complete his ascension to regular human being status?

  “Be caref
ul,” she said. “No more life for the truth.”

  He smiled. Seemed he couldn’t stop.

  The day after Christmas Ramage kissed Anna goodbye and climbed into Big Blue. The familiar controls, the crackle of the torn seat, the scent of body odor and oil—he’d missed it all. He gazed across the flat terrain, watching the glow of sunrise fight through the cloud cover.

  He pulled down the sun visor. A picture of Anna he’d secretly borrowed from the Gutierrez mantle was clipped to the underside of the faded blue plastic. Chiclet’s words came back to him. “No family pictures. No books or porn. No computer. What are you, a caveman?” He kissed the tip of his finger and touched the picture.

  Ramage inserted the key and Big Blue rumbled to life, coughing, and wheezing as he dropped the truck in gear. It bucked and gurgled, but Ramage didn’t mind. He shifted into first and the truck lurched forward, tossing him in his seat. He shifted again, grinding the gears as he got used to driving the big rig. Ramage looked over his shoulder and saw Anna watching him. A dust cloud obscured her from view and pain cramped his stomach.

  He liked the feeling.

  Theo Ramage will return in

  Sandbagged

  Also by Edward J. McFadden III

  If you enjoyed Quicksands please follow me at Amazon to be notified when

  Sandbagged

  The next title in the Theo Ramage series is released.

  Other recent novels include

  Dogs Get Ten Lives

  Sea Tremors

  Primeval Valley

  Shadow of the Abyss

  THROWBACK

  The Breach

  AWAKE

  The Black Death of Babylon

  Edward J. McFadden is also the author/editor of:

  Post-apocalyptic fantasy

  Keepers of the Flame

  SF thriller

  Jurassic Ark

  Anywhere But Here

  Lucky 13

  Jigsaw Nation