Backwater

by Carolina Mac

  “Let’s do it,” said Luke. “We have to find the gun for the boss.”

  The dogs had ridden in the back of the truck with Dean Hammett’s t-shirt between them on the seat, so they’d had a good chance to become familiar with the scent.

  The boys leashed the dogs and let them out of the truck.

  Special Agent Gene Wyman was in the parking lot with a couple of his men who’d searched the whole area. “Mind if we jog along. I’d like to see what they can find that we couldn’t. We were thorough.”

  “Sure,” said Fletch. Red stuck his nose in the air and he was off and running.

  Two blocks away, Red ran into the backyard of a two-storey house and scratched at the door of the garden shed next to the back fence.

  Gene was out of breath when he caught up. “I’ll get permission to open the door.” He knocked on the patio doors at the back of the house and the home owner came into the yard.

  “We heard about the shot that was fired,” he said, “but I didn’t see anybody in the yard.”

  “He was running,” said Gene. “Can we look in your shed for the gun? The dog says it’s in there.”

  The guy smiled down at Red. “If this big beauty says so, you better look.”

  Fletcher pulled the door open and the rifle was laying on the floor of the shed. He carefully wrapped it in his jacket and closed the shed door. “Thank you, sir. Appreciate it.”

  Luke gave biscuits to both dogs.

  Giddings.

  ANNIE needed to be in Austin for surveillance, but she drove all the way to Boots and Saddles south of Giddings to have a drink with Tyler first. He was waiting with a pitcher and two glasses in his favorite booth. He grinned when he saw her walk across the dance floor. “I love you, baby, and I’m sorry I’m such a jealous prick.”

  Jesse has said those exact words to me.

  Annie slid in across from Tyler. Sitting next to his hot sexy body was a bad idea if they were breaking up for good. “You said we were finished, Ty, and I believed you. Which is it? Finished or you were only kidding?”

  “I wasn’t kidding at the time, baby, but I was being a fuckin jerk. That’s what it was. I know you and Travis are done and he’s only your bodyguard now. Sometimes I think bad thoughts because I love you so goddam much.”

  “Okay,” said Annie. “Next time you say mean shit to me is the last time, Ty. The last time.”

  Tyler leaned across the table and kissed her. “One pitcher and we’re going to the truck. I want to show you how nice I can be.”

  “I already know how nice you can be, Ty. That’s the only reason I’m here. I love you, but I won’t let you keep hurting me. Understand?”

  “I’m ready to move to Coulter-Ross if you still want me to.”

  “What about Charity. Can you leave her?”

  “That’s been my biggest problem so far.”

  “Take a few more days,” said Annie. “See how it plays out.”

  “I don’t deserve how nice you are to me after I was a dickwad to you.” Ty tipped up his glass and finished it. “Want to dance?”

  Austin.

  ANNIE left Tyler at Boots and Saddles and met Travis in Austin at the Agency. They followed the trackers on the SUV’s that had met with Royce at his wife and son’s funeral.

  “We know their names now, but we need Blacky to find out who the hell they are and what they’re doing for Royce,” said Travis.

  “It looks like they’re both headed to the same place tonight,” said Annie. “Maybe they’re having a meeting.”

  Travis drove through the city and they ended up at Poker King in Round Rock.

  “Interesting,” said Annie. “I need pictures of these two guys, then maybe I can make some progress.

  “Work on that tomorrow,” said Travis. “Time to sleep.”

  JESSE was asleep when he got the call from Fletcher. “Red found the gun, boss. Taking it to headquarters.”

  “Fantastic. Leave the dogs at the Agency with Rick and Andy. I’ll pick them up tomorrow.”

  “Roger that, boss.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Friday, June 19th.

  Seadrift.

  “EVERYBODY ready for day two of channel fishing?” asked Blaine. “You girls don’t have to go again. I know you weren’t too impressed the first time we went.”

  “But now, we’re going for a reason and we’re watching the bad guys,” said Mary. “It’s going to be way more fun.”

  “But if we spook them, it might be dangerous,” said Farrell. “I don’t want the girls to go.”

  “I’m going,” said Mary. “This might make a super story for my column.”

  “Farrell’s right about spooking those jerks. We already know they’re killers.” Blaine turned to look at Misty. “Maybe you should stay here, sweetheart. Spend the day on the beach.”

  She shook her blonde curls. “I should go. What if I pick up on something that could be evidence. That’s what y’all need.”

  “That would be helpful,” said Blaine, “but I don’t want you or Mary getting hurt.” He glanced at both the girls and they weren’t wavering. “Okay, we’re all going.”

  “I’m pumped,” said Casey, “Me and Neil are like the Hardy Boys solving a case.”

  Blaine chuckled. “Yeah, okay, Hardy Boys. Let’s do it.”

  It took them a half hour to get to the rental place and during that time, Blaine had cautioned the girls and Neil and Casey about mentioning anything that would set the rental guys off.

  “All we’re gonna talk about is fishing, and the hot weather, and the snakes and gators, and like that,” said Neil. “We got it down, don’t we, Case?”

  Casey gave Neil a fist bump. “I’m so down, brother, and I got yo back.”

  Blaine smiled. Yeah, like they needed another Neil? Yeah, they did. Annie would be thrilled.

  When they arrived, Blaine parked the truck and couldn’t help cautioning them again.

  Farrell walked around to the front of the rental shack and the door was open. “Anybody want to rent us a boat?” he hollered.

  Whitey appeared out of nowhere. “Hey, the cops are back.”

  “We’re on vacay and we want to fish,” said Blaine. “Got anything to say, say it. Otherwise, get us a fuckin boat.”

  Whitey held up a hand. “No need to get testy, cop. Whitey will take you fishing.” He eyed Misty and Mary like he’d been doing the first time.

  “Big Dave around?” asked Farrell.

  “He ain’t up yet,” said Whitey. “Hard night.”

  Farrell grinned. “Had a few of those myself.”

  “Get y’all’s gear,” said Whitey. “I’m up for a run up the channel.”

  “Don’t we need another guide?” asked Blaine.

  Whitey shrugged. “Tennessee’s taking a day off.”

  “He was taking a day off yesterday,” said Farrell. “Don’t he work anymore?”

  Whitey grinned. “Guess not. I ain’t the boss and I don’t give a flying fuck what the other employees do.”

  “Right,” said Farrell. “Y’all seen Tennessee today?”

  “Course I seen him. We had breakfast beers together on the fuckin dock.”

  “Long as he’s okay,” said Farrell.

  “Why wouldn’t he be?”

  Farrell shrugged. “My only concern is for his wellbeing.”

  “That cop talk?” asked Whitey.

  “Just people talk,” said Farrell. “Regular people.”

  “Y’all ain’t regular people,” said Whitey as he scribbled on the rental agreement. “Y’all are cops. Different breed altogether.”

  “You’re wrong,” said Blaine, “but everybody is entitled to an opinion.”

  Whitey jogged down to the dock. “Why don’t y’all take a minute for a smoke and give me a chance to clean out the boats. By then, Big Dave will be up and running.”

  Farrell sat down on the grass and lit up a smoke. “No problem. We got no time constraints.”

  “Wha
t’s them constraints?” asked Whitey.

  “Pressing engagements looming large,” said Neil and cast a furtive glance at Casey.

  “I ain’t got none neither.” He laughed and started shoveling fish guts out of the bottom of the mud boat into a rusty pail.

  Austin.

  JESSE arrived at headquarters at ten forty-five with Starbuck’s coffee for Chief Calhoun. He tapped twice, then opened the door of the Chief’s office and set the tray and the bag of crullers on the desk. “Royce almost ready to rock?”

  “Attorney’s not here yet but should be soon.” The Chief reached into the bag and helped himself to a walnut cruller. “I love these. Don’t tell my wife I’m eating carbs—sugar coated carbs. She’ll kill me dead—then we’ll have another fuckin open homicide.”

  “Wouldn’t be open long if we knew she did it.” Jesse tossed his head back and snorted.

  “You talking to the shooter again today?”

  “Good news on that front. Red found the gun for us. Fletch brought it in last night.”

  “Nobody told me,” said the Chief, “but that’s great news. Red is amazing.”

  A tap on the door, and Ranger Ruskin announced the arrival of Senator Royce’s attorney. “I’ll be right there, June,” said Jesse. “Give us room two.”

  “I’ll sit in,” said the Chief. “Show the asshole we’re not fooling around.”

  “Thanks, Chief,” said Jesse. “This will be one big stall.”

  Jesse and the Chief entered room two and Jesse introduced the Chief first and then himself to Royce’s attorney.

  Phillip Douglas-Smith was a short, pudgy man with only a few strands of hair left, round apple cheeks and a prominent nose. His gray suit fit him poorly and he seemed flustered. His reputation for being well-prepared and highly organized seemed to have gone out the window.

  The recorder was set up and ready to go and Douglas-Smith had already stated that his client would answer only the questions he allowed.

  “Let’s begin,” said Chief Calhoun. “I have Governor Campbell’s statement here in my hand and she says you approached her at the Lieutenant Governor’s funeral reception and demanded that she give you a recording of a conversation that took place in her private office. When she refused, you threatened her, then grabbed her arm and physically hurt her.”

  “I didn’t hurt her,” said Royce with a grin. “I barely touched her. She made that up.”

  “We have pictures of the bruising on her arm,” said Jesse, “and there were witnesses both to the threats and to the assault. My people were close by and will testify to what they saw you do.”

  Douglas-Smith held up his hand. “Senator Royce will not be answering anymore questions at this time. He has an arraignment in half an hour. I believe he should be transported to the courthouse.”

  Coastal Backwater.

  BIG DAVE wandered towards the dock just as Whitey finished cleaning out the second boat. “Well, well,” he said with a sneer, “repeat customers. The cops must have been satisfied with their first taste of channel fishing and couldn’t wait to come back for more.” Dave laughed an ugly laugh and never took his eyes off Blaine.

  Farrell’s cell signaled a text as he was helping load the boat and he stood on the dock to read the message.

  “Need DL pics of the two guys I sent you.”

  “Mom, wait until I come home.”

  “Playing poker tonight. Recon only. No worries.”

  “I am worried.”

  BLAINE glanced at Farrell, saw his brother texting and saw the look on Farrell’s face but Farrell didn’t share. Had to be Annie. Something was going on that Farrell didn’t want to tell him about. Must be bad. He’d ask him later.

  Once the boats were loaded they pushed off and headed north, deep into the maze of backwater channels. Still early, but the day was hot, and humidity was high. If Big Dave didn’t kill them, the heat and the bugs would.

  We never should have brought the girls.

  Blaine sat facing Big Dave and the idiot yakked and laughed without letup. Misty inched closer to Blaine on the hard bench seat and he could tell Dave was giving off vibes that were bothering her. Casey watched Big Dave like a hawk with fear in his young eyes. The air was charged with tension and danger and the kid was scared.

  “Where’s Tennessee today?” asked Blaine. “Didn’t see him around this morning.”

  “He’s busy.”

  “Doing what?”

  Dave shrugged it off. “Whatever.” Dave leaned closer to Misty and said, “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever had in this boat. If I had your picture on a sign—like up on a huge billboard—I’d be getting myself a lot more business.”

  Misty cast a pleading look at Blaine.

  Blaine turned to Dave and said, “Shut up, Dave. We came here to fish.”

  Dave’s eyes narrowed, and his voice took on an edge. “You expect me to believe that fucking story? You came here to fish? Well, I’m not buying it.” He cut the engine down to about five miles an hour. “Let’s troll for awhile and see what we get.”

  Blaine baited Misty’s line and she dangled it over the side.

  Terrible idea bringing the girls.

  FARRELL and Neil cast lines on either side of the boat while Mary sat as still as a statue watching Whitey. “Want to fish, Mary?” asked Farrell.

  “Umm… no thanks. I think I’ll just enjoy the scenery instead of fishing.”

  Farrell knew better. Mary was listening to the sights and sounds around her and writing her column in her head. When she got back to the beach house, she’d type every detail into her laptop.

  Casey hollered from the other boat when he caught a good size bass. “Look at this, Neil.” He held up the fish.

  “You better catch a bigger one, bro,” Farrell said to Neil. “Casey’s got you beat right now.”

  “Shit,” said Neil. He stuck his head over the side of the boat and hollered, “Come on big fish. Come to Neil.”

  Mary giggled.

  Between the heat of the swamp and the tension in the air, Farrell could barely breathe. The rental guys were about to explode, and he didn’t want Mary or Neil there when it happened.

  Bad idea to bring the girls.

  Whitey steered over towards the right bank of the channel to let another boat pass. He waved and gave a shout out to the guy driving the other boat.

  Farrell read the name on the other boat—Backwater Adventure Tours. “That your competition?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” said Whitey, “those guys are a big outfit. We don’t try to compete with them. They’ve got like a dozen boats or more.”

  “Do y’all have a website?” asked Mary. “Or do y’all advertise online? That might help people find out about y’all and give you more business.”

  Austin.

  JESSE sat in the first row in the courtroom waiting for Senator Royce’s arraignment. Arraignments usually didn’t draw too much attention, but this one had attracted a lot of media people. Reporters filled the seats with their laptops and iPads on their knees taking notes.

  The case was called, Royce’s attorney sat down at the defense table and the bailiff brought Royce in.

  Judge Abernathy on the bench seemed surprised to see Senator Royce standing in front of him. The charges were read, and the judge asked, “How do you plead, Senator Royce?”

  “Not guilty.”

  “So noted. You will be advised of a trial date. Bail is set at forty thousand dollars.”

  Royce was released, and he and his attorney left the courtroom to arrange bail.

  Jesse stood out front on the courthouse steps amid an army of media people and spoke on his cell to Fletcher and Luke in the unit. “You boys got him?”

  “Yeah, boss. We’re ready.”

  Questions were hurled at Jesse by the dozens. “Why isn’t Ranger Blackmore here? Where is he? Who did Senator Royce assault? You arrested him at the Governor’s mansion. Did he assault Governor Campbell? Is Governor Campbell hur
t?”

  “It’s public record now,” said Jesse. “Senator Royce has been charged with assault, and yes, the assault was on Governor Campbell.”

  “How badly is the Governor hurt?” hollered one of the reporters. “Is she in the hospital?”

  “No, she’s at work in her office. Business as usual.”

  Coastal Backwater.

  FARRELL shoved a hand into the cooler sitting in the middle of the mud boat and grabbed out three Cokes. He handed one to Mary first, then Neil.

  “Thanks, bro. Must be a hundred and ten at least.” Neil held the cold can to his forehead before he popped the top.

  Mary pointed to Neil’s line. “You got something, Neil.”

  Neil grabbed up his rod, set the Coke can down and starting playing the fish. “Feels heavy. Think it’s a monster.”

  Farrell grinned. “I bet it is a monster.”

  Whitey began spewing out advice on how to land the fish and Neil wasn’t listening. He was peering over the side of the boat trying to get a glimpse of the fish on his line.

  “Might be a redfish,” said Whitey. “Those bastards can get huge.”

  While Neil struggled trying to get the big fish close enough to the boat for the net, Mary got her phone in position to take pictures.

  “I’m ready, Neil. I’ll make a video of you pulling him up.”

  “He’s strong, Mary. Might be stronger than me.”

  “Give him some line,” hollered Whitey. “Don’t reel him in too fast or you’ll lose him.”

  BLAINE stood up in the other boat trying to see Neil bring in his big fish. He wasn’t watching Big Dave, but Misty was.

  Dave reached for the throttle, about to give the boat enough gas to jerk it forward and knock Blaine off his feet and over the low side.

  Misty let out a low mewling sound, lifted her eyes to the Cypress tree hanging over them and a branch broke off and came flying down. The branch hit Dave so hard it knocked him off the captain’s chair and over the side of the boat. The huge splash Dave made when he hit the water alerted all the reptiles snoozing on the banks and they slithered into the channel.