The Austin Job

by David Mark Brown

  “And neither one of us felt sick at first?” Daisy chimed in.

  The thought had occurred to him amidst the rest of the night’s worries. “We didn’t find any sort of weapon on the girl, but Oleg clearly fired something into your ass, boy.

  “Something that we can’t find now.” Daisy stood as Starr shifted on his good cheek.

  “Yep.” Lickter agreed.

  “So we’re looking for an invisible weapon that fires invisible bullets, and only affects certain people?” She rolled her eyes.

  Starr added, “I think the key is the heatstroke. You and Ms. Lloyd both started suffering signs before the attack while Daisy and I were fine.

  Lickter nodded his head and thought back to the moment he began feeling dizzy. “At first I thought it was the booze.” Suddenly it clicked. “You two didn’t have anything to drink.”

  “So it was the booze, but he poisoned it.” Daisy finished the thought.

  “Could be.” Lickter fetched a fresh toothpick from his shirt pocket.

  “That would explain why I didn’t burn up. If the weapon requires the poison to work—” Starr was cut off as Gwendolyn emerged from her personal washroom followed by the company doctor.

  Lickter moved between the doctor and the elevator, blocking his exit. “Ms. Lloyd, I don’t think it would be wise to let the doc out of our sight till morning.”

  “Sheriff Lickter, I assure you—”

  “Sorry doc, it’s not that I don’t trust you.” He cleared his throat. “But I reckon if this young lady’s employer were to suspect she’d sustained some sort of injury he might start rounding up doctors in hopes of finding her.”

  “Agreed.” Ms. Lloyd put her hand on the doctor’s shoulder. “So sorry for the inconvenience, but if you could wait just another moment I’ll accompany you personally to the guest suite upstairs.”

  Not wanting to get more involved than he had too, he relented. “Very well.”

  Ms. Lloyd guided him back into the washroom. “If you wouldn’t mind keeping on eye on our patient?” Closing the door behind him, she turned toward Lickter. “What do you recommend?”

  “Daddy?” Daisy started.

  “My daughter got me thinking. We missed some things at the party. And while I’d like to recommend sending her home to bed,” he stared her down. Without flinching she stared straight back. “I know she’d never listen, so I recommend sending her and Starr back to the capitol.”

  Ms. Lloyd tapped her finger to her lips. “To clean up?”

  “To look for some sort of weapon the girl must have tossed.” He winked so only Gwendolyn could see it. “To know what we’re dealing with. No need to mess with the bodies. I think leaving them might work to our advantage. The people need to know what Oleg’s capable of.”

  “Agreed.”

  “But I won’t send my daughter out without—”

  “Yes, yes. Very well. But I’m not going to let this evening get out of hand.” As she ducked behind the service bar Lickter wondered what her definition of “out of hand” looked like. Seconds later she stood with a holster in each hand, and Lickter nodded in agreement. “Starr, yours is pretty straightforward. Don’t go shooting any of your future constituents.” She handed him a shoulder holster with a .38 Tri-star like Lickter’s—specially equipped with plastic components, and according to Lickter’s connections south of the border, strictly in the trial stages.

  “Daisy, this is for you. And don’t misunderstand,” handing Daisy a black holster and harness, she looked at both of them, “I’m entrusting the more valuable weapon to the lady. It’s a sonic gun. You won’t hear a thing when you fire it, but this little light will tell you when it’s discharged. While you won’t hear a thing, whoever’s on the business end will lose almost a quarter of their hearing range. And for God’s sake don’t pulse anyone more than once.”

  Daisy held the twisted mess of holster at arm’s length. “But how do I—”

  “Right here, honey.” Ms. Lloyd tapped the inside of her thigh and winked. She batted her eyes at Lickter.

  “One more thing,” the sheriff took over. “It’s got the range and pattern of a 12-gauge, so you gotta get close.” He ushered them toward the elevator. “Oh, I’m sure the local sheriff and his men’ll be showing up pretty soon, if they haven’t already. I’d recommend avoiding them, unless you plan on spending the rest of the evening un-incriminating yourselves.” Reaching inside the lift he hit the button for the second floor, from where they could take the stairs to the lobby. “Assuming they don’t shoot first.”

  “But what about you?” Daisy asked as the elevator doors slid shut.

  By the time Lickter had taken a deep breath, scratched his itching scalp and readjusted his hat, Ms. Lloyd had fetched the doctor. After several more seconds without speech the elevator returned and Gwendolyn escorted the doctor on board. Giving Lickter a grim look, she disappeared behind the metal doors. The wrinkles around her mouth told him to do what had to be done. Those around her eyes told him she understood the difficulty of her request.

  NINE

  Towers and Tunnels

  Like a corpse drained of its life’s blood, Congress Avenue’s energy had seeped away with the setting sun. By nine o’clock rigor mortis had set in. Starr breathed a sigh of relief as he and Daisy reached the sphere of illumination cast by the moonlight tower on the corner of Tenth and Congress. The triangular wrought-iron framework rose over 150 feet, supported by guy-wires tethered to the ground and nearby buildings. To the east the light reached St. Mary’s Cathedral, drizzling it with eerie, blue shadows like liquid moonlight. Straight ahead, it reached the edge of the capitol lawn.

  Daisy squeezed his arm tight. Starr shivered as they passed through the main gates, wishing they’d taken time to change out of their formal clothing. He brushed away the chill bumps above Daisy’s elbow-high gloves. “Sorry for the handprints. Looks like a nasty sunburn.”

  She took his hand in hers. “I’ve had worse. Don’t get any ideas.”

  “Oh?”

  “Just because you’ve branded me.” Nearing the spot of the gala burnings, they watched their weak shadows shift gradually as they drew closer to the moonlight tower at Trinity and Eleventh. “They say the towers were put in because of a crazed killer.”

  “The Servant Girl Murderer. I’ve heard that too. Buncha hogwash.” Starr slowed his stride. He focused on the clear patches of grass, trying to avoid the charred corpses sprouting from the lawn like tortured rose bushes in a morbid winter garden. “They weren’t put in until ten years later. Not saying I’m ungrateful for them now.” Nothing had been disturbed since they’d left in a hurry little more than an hour ago. “What exactly you think we’re looking for?”

  “An invisible tube long enough to shoot an invisible bullet into your…ahem.” She inched closer to his side.

  “Hey now. Invisible or not, I ain’t gonna be able to sit right for weeks.” Slowly they drifted apart as they combed the area with their eyes. After a few minutes Starr grew drowsy with the constant wash of pale, blue light lapping at his feet like surf.

  Having perched herself on an overturned Pergola, Daisy interrupted the encroaching silence. “What were you going to say to me before? You know, after your time to think.”

  Grateful for the warmth of her voice, Starr felt the need now more than ever for a confidant. But in the midst of the boneyard gala, paranoid thoughts assaulted him. What if she’s in on it? What role has her father assigned her in this entrapment? “Daisy?” He drew a deep breath. “What do you know about your father’s work.” He tried to gauge her expression in the dim light. “Here in Austin that is.”

  Her red gown appeared blackish blue in the light, like crude oil. It rippled gently downward as she stood to resume searching the detritus of the party. “Oh, that. You wanted to talk about my father.”

  “Well, no.” His heart sank. “It’s just that—”

  “I get it. He’s a mysterious man involved with mysterious plan
s.” She sighed. “Maybe I could give you an angle, some cards to hold close to your chest. It appears you’re a quick learner. I just hoped—”

  “Wait a second.” Having crossed over to her, he clutched her hand. “I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant.”

  “Yeah, you meant to be more subtle. Not to brag or anything, but I’m good at this. I’ve learned from the master.”

  Exasperated, he tried to keep his voice from carrying. “Learned what? How to frustrate—”

  “We’ve been over this. I know how to get stuff from people, and I know when they’re trying to get stuff from me. Honestly, for a politician you’re not very good at it. It can be cute at times, but…” she threw off his hand, returning to the search.

  Regret and urgency collided within him. Abandoning words, he clasped her arms against her sides and lifted her from the ground. Silencing her surprise with his lips, he drew the breath out of her until he grew dizzy with it. Finally he clutched her lower lip in his teeth and drew back gently before redoubling the effort.

  Suddenly a damn burst as her lips pulsed and swelled within his own. Grabbing for superior purchase, the two of them battled—heads tilted left, then right. The condensation of their breath formed saline crystals before dissolving again with the dizzying flavor of the other.

  They let the beads of passion drip between them until shuddering with ecstasy spent, she collapsed into his embrace. Buckling at the knees, he dropped to the ground while cradling her to himself. If one moment could last forever. But no sooner than he’d entertained the thought, a crack shattered the moment. A black figure, dressed like the girl, had stepped on a downed string of lights.

  “It’s one of them.” Starr eased her from his lap and checked to ensure his pistol was still in its holster.

  “Has he seen us?”

  “I don’t think so.” As they slunk behind the collapsed pergola, the dark figure moved away. After a few tense breaths, Starr looked into Daisy’s eyes. “What I meant to say before, is that I’m scared.”

  “Wow, you were way off.”

  “Shhh.” He hushed her with a peck on the lips. Certain that Ms. Lloyd’s words about Daisy’s toughness were true, he decided to share his burdens. “This afternoon G.W. asked me to challenge Oleg ideologically and politically, to quell what he called his peoples’ revolution, of all the stupid…” He glanced at the remains of a nearby human torch after insuring Oleg’s man remained at a safe distance. “Now this? It’s malarkey.” He shook his head. “It seems almost like they were expecting it. Well not exactly this. But—”

  “They aren’t looking to stop a grassroots political movement.”

  “Exactly. The farmers are a smokescreen, and this definitely isn’t political. Ms. Lloyd,” he corrected himself, “G.W.—”

  “And my father.”

  He nodded. “They’re after something, and they want me to help, but they’re not telling me the whole story.”

  “Like my father ever tells anyone the whole story.” He waited for her to finish. “Did you see the way he and Ms. Lloyd were looking at each other? Like they were being so sneaky. Why do men always think they can cheat without getting caught?” Starr cringed, unsure of what to say next. “Never mind. If my daddy’s part of it they won’t play it straight, so why should we?”

  Starr nodded. Daisy’s easy use of the word ‘we’ even in opposition of her father struck him as genuine. The intensity of his relief surprised him. “I’m glad you agree.” The dark figure shifted back in their direction. “As far as I’m concerned, it’s simple. Oleg’s killing people, and he’s using college students to do it. We’ve gotta stop him.” Impulsively, he ran his fingers through her hair.

  “We have to find him first.” She nodded toward the student in black, skirting a pergola less than a hundred feet away. At the same time, she clutched his hand and brushed it across her cheek.

  “Okay, but keep that sonic gun handy, just in case.” She lifted her dress enough to check the thigh holster, and nodded. Starr put his hand on her shoulder. “After this morning Oleg knows you exist, if he didn’t before. I’m hoping your father’s right about my side being the safest place for you. But I’m sure he would still shoot me if I let anything happen—”

  “Can it, country boy. I’ll be saving your good cheek before this is over.”

  “Shhh.” He shushed her. “Our guy might have found what we were looking for.” The dark figure stooped. He straightened again, holding a long pipe, its dull sheen glinting in the artificial moonlight. “We need to get that weapon.” Behind them a car engine throttled down as it entered through the capitol gates. The headlights swept across the skeletal debris, flashing into Starr’s eyes. By the time he focused them again, the student had gone. “Time to go.” They crept around the splintered remains, Daisy holding her shoes in one hand and the sonic gun in the other.

  “Right over here deputies. Like I said, they just burned, like spontaneous combustion.”

  As they prepared to bolt, a search light flooded the scene, freezing them in their tracks. “Hey, you two!” The deputy hailed them before noticing the ghastly, gnarled corpses littering the lawn—human bone trees making a tribute to horror. “Good God.”

  Starr took that as their cue. “Come on. He’s getting away.” Together they fled for the fence encompassing the eastern edge of the lawn, the same direction the dark figure had fled moments earlier.

  “Stop!” Shouts pursued them as the lawmen scrambled to organize a pursuit they had not anticipated.

  Despite being barefoot, Daisy quickly outstripped Starr’s lame gate—a jaunty sort of running stumble. He did the best he could to keep track of her red gown sparkling in the ghostly carbon arc flood light. “Do you see him?” Daisy spoke over her shoulder while clutching at the hem of her gown.

  “No. You?” As they neared the edge of the flood light’s reach, a mosquito buzz whisked by Starr’s head, followed instantly by the sound of gunshots. Clipping the back of his own heel with his foot, he stumbled. Unable to catch up with his momentum, he tucked his shoulder and bounced once on the soft grass before tumbling onto hands and knees.

  Under continuing gunfire Daisy hit the ground more gracefully and crawled back to where he’d fallen. Starr pulled them both behind a large tree as the deputies’ voices grew closer.

  “Come on out! We need to ask you folk some questions.”

  Starr peered into the darkness toward the eastern fence, still a good fifty yards away. “Do you see him?”

  “There.” Daisy pointed toward a shadow dropping on the other side of the wrought iron fence and heading east on Twelfth, less than a block from the nearest moonlight tower.

  “Ideas?”

  “First things first.” Daisy spun from behind the tree, taking a knee as she took aim.

  “Gun!” But the deputies were too late. The air around Starr wumped against his head like the wings of a barn owl, causing his eyes to cross. Instantly, the lead law man threw up his hands—his gun flying. Clasping his ears, he crumpled to the ground and howled in pain. Two others, clipped by the sonic spread, stumbled and fell flat while covering their ears. The rest seemed frozen by the outburst.

  Daisy took aim a second time and pulled the trigger. Starr noticed a tiny red light flicker just behind the rear sight. Simultaneously he heard a deputy bark with pain. The remaining men ducked and dodged in a confused retreat.

  “I hope I never experience the other end of that.” Daisy holstered the weapon, and the two of them sprinted for the fence. Puffing by the time he got there, Starr rested his hands on his knees. “How am I going to get you over this fence?”

  “Watch and learn, country boy. Hold out your hands like this.” She backed up as he formed a basket with his hands.

  “Now—” but before he could finish, she rushed him. Planting one foot in his hands and the other on his shoulder, she launched herself over his head, her dress whipping him in the face. He turned in time to see her slink between two vertical bars jut
ting from the top of the fence and let herself down softly on the other side.

  “Toss me my shoes.”

  He stuttered, mouth gaping.

  “What? I’m not leaving them behind.”

  He handed her the shoes obediently before heaving himself up and over the eight foot fence in a slightly less graceful manner that included tearing his pants on a spike at the top. Finally dropping down beside her, he breathed three quick words before rejoining their pursuit.

  “Not a word.”

  ~~~

  Lickter closed the door to the washroom behind him. The girl lay awake on a table in the middle of the room—bound by restraints and agitated like hornets in a jar. Blonde hair, blue eyes, pale complexion, paler still from blood loss—her black outfit gave her a deathly, predacious look.

  A deadpan expression on his face, the sheriff approached. She growled, biting down on the gag in her mouth. He leaned in close to search the depth of her eyes and quickly saw the answers to his unasked questions. Lightly shaded irises were always easier to read for some reason. It served as the primary reason he distrusted Mexicans and Orientals.

  He shifted to the foot of the table, never breaking visual connection. Finally he lowered his eyes, loosening the restraint on her left ankle. Like a coiled snake it shot out for his chin. He dodged it easily, almost comically. Instead of retaliating he loosened the restraint on her right ankle. Eyes wide with confusion and fear, she hesitated, sniffed, flinched like she needed to scratch an itch.

  He moved to her left side. “I’ve been ordered to torture you.” He picked his teeth with the toothpick dangling from the corner of his mouth, letting the statement linger. “But your eyes have already told me what I needed to know.” He removed his badge from his belt so she could see it, before turning to put it on the counter.

  Carefully he removed the gag from her mouth. She coughed and licked her lips. “I’ve told you nothing.”

  “Haven’t you?” He dragged a stool noisily across the marble tile and took a seat. “You’re angry with yourself more than me. What kind of captive prefers to hate herself over her captor? Hmm? Not even a guess?” He shook his head. “One who’s been blinded to her own worth, manipulated by a criminal mastermind.” She clenched her eyes shut. He continued, “You’re in love with him.”