by Joe Field
Cooper returned the smile. “Thank you very much, I’ll get the cobbler to go.”
Outside, the smoker was easy to track down. Despite the two huge meals sitting in his stomach, Cooper was half tempted to order some brisket on his way out. He rounded the back corner of the building, and sure enough a man stood behind a giant barbeque smoker attending to the meat.
“Sure does smell delicious,” said Cooper.
The man casually turned around, seeming unsurprised by the compliment. He looked to be in his twenties, and he was wearing a baseball cap that covered his face in the noontime Texas sun. He had a sturdy build despite his large stomach—probably an occupational hazard, Cooper thought.
“It’s the best in the state,” the man said. “Sometimes we slow cook it for three or four days just to get it soft and tender with the perfect taste.”
“That sounds pretty amazing, not going to lie.” Cooper reached in his pocket for his pack of smokes as he held the peach cobbler to-go bag in his other. “Say, are you Jasper Nash by any chance?”
“Sure am.” Jasper took off his cap and revealed short blonde hair and bright blue eyes. “Do I know you from somewhere?”
“My name is Cooper Smith. I’m down here from North Dakota looking into something that may have involved your brother.”
Jasper’s shoulders slumped. “Are you a cop or something? Look, I already spoke to the police about my brother. What else do you guys want?”
“I’m not a cop. I’m actually a reporter, but I’m not looking for a story. I know the gal your brother may be with, and I want to see if I can get some information that may help find them.”
“Who do you work for?”
“Minnesota Public Radio in Saint Paul, Minnesota.”
“I thought you said you were from North Dakota?” Jasper put his cap back on.
“I was on an assignment out there at the time, but I came down here just yesterday looking for more answers. Would you like a cigarette?” Cooper stretched the pack toward Jasper.
“No thanks, and I’d prefer not to speak to any reporters.” Jasper started to turn back to the smoker.
“Woah, hey. Like I said, this is something I’m doing for my friend—our entire conversation can be off the record.”
Jasper faced Cooper again. “How do you know the girl they said my brother kidnapped?”
“She is one of my wife’s best friends, and she was a bridesmaid in our wedding this year. I’m not accusing your brother of anything; I just want to help find our friend. Her name is Gabby.”
Jasper sighed. “Well, what do you want to know?”
“Would it be better to meet up later after work?”
“Nah, I’m busy later. Look, if you can talk while I’m working on the meat that’s fine with me.”
“Works for me,” said Cooper.
Jasper returned his attention to the smoker. “Okay, ask away.”
Just then, Cooper noticed a car speeding away from an alley that stood between the barbecue joint and a motel. He only caught the back edge of it as it disappeared behind the motel, but it was unmistakably the bright red taillights of a black Dodge Charger.
How many black Dodge Chargers are there in Amarillo?
“Do you have any questions, or what?” asked Jasper.
Cooper turned back to Jasper. “Yes, sorry about that. So, when was the last time you talked to your brother?” He took one last look over his shoulder, but the Charger was gone.
“About three months ago. Ever since he went up to North Dakota, we only talked three or four times a year.”
“Did he happen to tell you he was dating anyone or anything like that?”
“No, our parents had just died and we were making funeral arrangements.”
Cooper winced. “I’m really sorry to hear about your loss.”
“Yeah, well my parents are probably rolling in their graves. They wanted Declan to take over the family ranch, but he turned them down. Then they looked to me, but to be honest I have the place up for sale. Hoping to start my own barbeque joint with the proceeds. But anyway, to answer your earlier question about Declan and dating, no he wouldn’t get into things like that with me. He is a really introverted guy. I bet he hasn’t dated anyone since he left Texas for the Dakotas.”
Cooper nodded. “That’s good to know. Say, when did he leave Texas?”
Jasper looked up and closed one eye, his lips moving as he whispered to himself. “I’m trying to think of the exact year, but it’s escaping me right now. It was a few years back though. He got canned by the Rangers and then he headed up north.”
Cooper waved a hand. “It’s fine if you can’t remember the exact date. I’m curious, and if you don’t mind me asking, why did the Rangers let him go?”
Jasper shrugged. “You know, we all asked him that a million times, but he would never say. He would get really mad about it, and then he would storm out of the room. My father finally confronted him one day about it and he marched right out of the house and went straight up to North Dakota without so much as a goodbye.”
Cooper shook his head as he crossed his arms. “Wow, no kidding.”
After several moments without a response, Cooper stepped a little closer to Jasper. “Well, did you know any of his colleagues at the Rangers who might be able to share some details?”
Jasper nodded slowly, and then paused before responding. “Yeah, I knew this one guy. He was Declan’s partner. I thought about trying to look him up a few times, but figured there was no point.”
“Do you remember his name?”
Jasper turned his attention back to the smoker to check the meat again. He moved a rack of ribs around and checked on another. “He goes by ‘Lefty,’ but his real name is Clayton Greene.”
“Why Lefty?” Cooper shifted to the side of the smoker so he could get a better look at Jasper’s face.
Jasper noticed the movement and turned toward Cooper. “Well, he’s right-hand dominant in everything he does, except for shooting. He shoots with his left eye and hand, and he’s pretty good at it from what Declan told me.”
“So.” Cooper paused. “Do you know where Lefty currently works?”
Jasper slowly shrugged. “I’m not positive, but I know he was working at the main Rangers’ office down in Austin. That’s your best bet.”
Cooper nodded. “Thanks for the tip. Is there anything else you can tell me about your brother that might help find him or Gabby?”
Jasper closed the door on the smoker and pointed a finger at Cooper. “Just be careful. Between his military training, Rangers experience, and his compulsive behavior, you never know what Declan you are going to find.”
Cooper’s eyes grew wide. “What do you mean by compulsive behavior?”
Jasper put his foot up on the side of the trailer that the smoker sat on, and Cooper noticed his red cowboy boots. Resting his arms on his bent knee, he leaned toward Cooper. “Listen, I don’t really want to get into it, but just know Declan has some weird kind of OCD where he gets fixated on things. He’s had it his whole life. A casual outside observer might not notice it, but he has a problem. Every time my parents tried to get him help or medicine he would shutter away.”
“How did he cope with it?” Cooper mirrored Jasper by putting his Red Wing boot on the trailer.
“I don’t think he ever really did, but that’s why the military and Rangers were good for him. They provided structure to his life, and he liked that. I’m not sure what happened once he got up to North Dakota. I don’t think that was the best place for him to go, but I think he just wanted to get away from it all.”
Cooper nodded. “That’s really good to know, thanks for sharing.”
Jasper eyed the back door of the restaurant, pushing off of the trailer with his boot so he stood up straight. “Look, I have to get back inside. Think you have enough to go on?”
Cooper took the cue and stood up straight, too. “I think you helped point me in the right direction. Thanks so much for
your time and the details about your brother. I’ll let you get back to making more of that delicious barbeque. Good luck with opening your own joint, too.”
“Thanks, you’ll have to try it out sometime.”
Cooper shifted his bag of cobbler to his left hand and used his right one to shake Jasper’s hand. “Although my belt would disagree, you can count me in.”
Both men laughed and went their separate ways.
Base hit. Time to go to Austin.
Chapter 15
Bismarck, North Dakota
The Nixon bobblehead nodded on Governor Simmons' desk as he sat in his office chair drinking a glass of whiskey.
“You know what Nixon’s greatest fault was?” asked Simmons.
“No, what?” Thompson sat on the opposite side of the desk in a leather chair sipping on his own glass of whiskey.
“He got caught.”
“Yeah, he got caught big time, and so could we.”
“No,” said Simmons. “We won’t, not if I have anything to say about it.”
Thompson took a big swig from his glass and set it down on the desk. “Hey, I meant to ask you. How did your meeting with Bob’s sexy intern go the other night?”
Simmons set his glass down on the desk and gave Thompson a devilish, cunning smile. “Well, when you’re the governor, girls will let you get away with things.”
“Like what?”
“Nothing, really. We talked most of the night right over there on those couches in front of a fire.” Simmons motioned across the room. “It was a nice conversation, then at the end of the night I just gave her a goodnight kiss is all.”
“Like on the cheek or what?”
“No, on the lips, of course.” Simmons grinned.
Thompson shot him a look of surprise. “She didn’t say anything?”
“I think she was stunned, but she just let it happen and then she was gone.”
“You dog, you.”
“Thanks for setting it up. I might have to have her over again some time.”
Thompson raised his glass. “It’s good to be king.”
“It sure is.”
“Hey, so it sounds like that Minnesota radio reporter you were worried about started a bar fight up in Williston,” said Thompson.
“Yeah, I heard. Him and his saucy Asian wife.” Simmons took a swallow of whiskey.
“How did you hear about it?”
“Wheeler. He’s been on the reporter since he stopped by Hanson’s place last week.”
“What’s the reporter’s name?”
“Smith.”
“Smith, huh. Where is he now?”
“Wheeler followed him over to Minnesota, and then down to Texas. Smith is going down gopher holes to find Gabby and that roughneck.” Simmons laughed.
“Wheeler is down in Texas?” Thompson snickered. “That’s a little outside of his range, wouldn’t you say?”
“Let’s give him a call and see how he’s doing.” Simmons turned his phone on speaker mode and dialed Wheeler.
“Wheeler here.”
“Hello, Magnum PI.” Simmons chuckled. “I have you on speaker phone with Thompson here. How’s it going down in the Lone Star State?”
“Real funny, governor. So far I’ve followed Smith around Amarillo, but he seems to be chasing dead ends. He might have found one of the roughneck’s relatives, but not sure where that’ll get him.”
“Good,” said Simmons. “Let him chase the wind, that just means he won’t be on our case or talking to Hanson.”
“Look, it’s not ideal down here. I don’t know the terrain, and my work is getting sloppy. I’m by myself and can’t do proper surveillance without a team. I’m afraid Smith will figure me out.”
“Give him some room,” said Thompson. “As long as he stays down there it shouldn’t be such a concern for us.”
“Yeah, well easy for you guys to say,” said Wheeler. “Listen, I’m in the room next to his at this hotel in Amarillo, and I overheard him telling his wife he is heading down to Austin in the morning. I’ll go there to see what he is up to, but how long do you want me to follow him?”
“Just see what he does in Austin and report back to us,” said Simmons. “That’s what I am paying you for.”
“You’re still paying me for mileage from the road trip down to Texas and back to North Dakota, right?”
“Hey, it’s not my fault you’re afraid of flying.”
“Listen, I’m working hard for you and I expect—”
“Don’t worry! Just stay on Smith and you’ll be paid.” Simmons ended the call.
“Well, at least Smith is distracted for a little while,” said Thompson. “But, what’s the play if he decides to come back to North Dakota? Should we throw him in jail for the bar fight when he returns?”
Simmons tapped a pen on his desk. “No. Smith’s office already sent another reporter out to fill his shoes.”
Thompson scrunched his forehead. “Who is the new reporter?”
Simmons waved off Thompson. “Relax. Her name is Lisa Larson. I put one of the undercover state troopers on her. He pulled her record and she looks pretty clean. She was born in Wisconsin, but lives in Saint Paul now and works for MPR. Sounds like she is trying to spin up stories on that recent spill.”
Thompson rolled his eyes. “Give me a break, those spills are a dime a dozen. I don’t care how big it is.”
Simmons leaned back in his chair and put his boots up on his desk. “Yeah, well, if the New York Times couldn’t find us out with their investigative reporting, I’m not too worried about this Larson gal from Minnesota. But, if she gets too pushy I’ll just run her out of the state.”
Thompson relaxed his posture. Slumping back into his chair, he took a sip of whiskey. “So what’s the plan for when Smith comes back? How do we keep him away from Hanson?”
Simmons took a drink from his glass and twirled the remaining whiskey around as he responded. “I don’t think we can keep him from Hanson; they will naturally talk. No, for Smith I have another idea. I’m going to invite him over for a consultation with the governor.” Simmons pointed his thumb back at himself. “I’ll give him a warm reception and let him know we are pulling for him to find Gabby.”
“With the real purpose of?”
Simmons set his glass back down and stared right at Thompson. “Lieutenant governor, have you not learned anything from me? It’s like I always say, keep your friends close, your women closer . . .”
“And the media the closest,” said Thompson.
Simmons nodded. “Good. Now make a call and get him on my calendar.”
“Will do, boss.”
“Oh, and one more thing.” Simmons smiled.
“What’s that?”
“Make sure to also invite his cheeky little Asian wife for the meeting.”
Chapter 16
Austin, Texas
Cooper tried but failed to get a last-minute flight from Amarillo down to Austin. A business-class ticket was going for seventeen-hundred dollars, but Wild Bill would literally kill him if he purchased that flight with MPR funds. So, Cooper was forced to make the seven-and-a-half hour drive south to the state’s capital.
They weren’t kidding about this being a massive state.
Cooper fought off sleep and boredom by drinking coffee, smoking American Spirits, eating licorice, and listening to local radio. He thought about the Dodge Charger that he suspected was following him in Amarillo. He now checked his rearview mirror every few miles. There was no sign of it since the sighting at Tyler’s Barbeque, but Cooper was sure it wasn’t a coincidence. He finally stopped thinking about it for a moment when he saw the little green sign with the white letters that proclaimed he had reached Austin city limits.
It wasn’t exactly the trip he had imagined for his inaugural visit to Austin. Each March, Austin hosted a festival and conference called South-by-Southwest (SXSW). It featured the best of music, film, technology, and culture. Every year, Cooper read reports about i
t, and each time he wished he were there.
Find Gabby and then you can reward yourself with a trip to SXSW, thought Cooper. As if extra motivation is needed.
It was late in the afternoon, but Cooper thought he would try his luck by seeking out the Texas Ranger that Jasper had mentioned, Mr. Clayton “Lefty” Greene.
Cooper exited the highway and made his way to the Texas Department of Public Safety. The DPS headquarters was spread out over a series of connected brick buildings, located in the north part of Austin. Cooper turned off of Lamar Boulevard into the DPS visitor’s center parking lot.
Just as he pulled into a parking spot, his phone rang. It was a 701 area code—North Dakota. He answered.
“Hello, this is Cooper.”
“Mr. Smith?” asked a woman on the other end of the line.
“Yes.”
“Hi, I’m calling from the North Dakota governor’s residence, and Governor Simmons would like to invite you to dinner the next time you are in Bismarck. Please, could you tell me when that will be?”
What in the world is this about? Cooper thought.
“Wow, I’d be honored. I’m away on business right now but plan to return to North Dakota this coming weekend. Would that work for the governor?”
Cooper heard the lady shuffle some papers. “Would Sunday night at 7 pm work for you?”
Cooper checked the calendar on his phone. He was planning on staying one more day in Austin, and then he would travel back to Minnesota on Thursday. Check in with the office on Friday, and then he could drive all the way out on Saturday, and be fresh for the meeting on Sunday.
“Yes, that should work. May I ask the reason for the meeting?”
“Governor Simmons said he wanted to meet and personally thank you for all the work you’ve done trying to find the missing woman from Williston.”
“Well, that is very kind.”
“Oh, and Mr. Smith. The governor has extended the invitation to your wife, as well. He said he has a gift for her to pass on to Minnesota’s governor.”
“I will see if it works with her schedule, and confirm.”
