Dead Eye

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by Carolina Mac


  As she drove up route seventy-one into Austin, she tried to put Paul Leggatt, the man, into a category she could understand. Once she understood the man it was easy to find his weakness and use it against him. Leggatt was older, late fifties, knocking on sixty, not bad looking in a rough, outdoorsy way. He’d been married twice and twice divorced. No kids.

  They had two things in common—horses and guns.

  She drove through the gate into Blaine’s compound and Travis was waiting for her on the porch. He stood up, crossed the lawn and leaned in the window of her truck. She’d driven the red Coulter-Ross truck with the Appaloosas painted on the doors.

  “What’s the plan, Annie-girl?”

  “We’re on Leggatt. All the way here, I’ve been trying to think of something that would work. This isn’t going to be easy.”

  “You’re going in to see his stock?” Travis tapped on the door of the truck.

  Annie nodded. “I called and made an appointment. He knows I’m coming.”

  “Where do you want me?”

  “Any suggestions?”

  “I’ll follow you, and after you drive in his lane, I’ll recon the whole block in case we need a spot for later. You’ll have to call if you need me.”

  “I probably won’t today,” said Annie, “but I want us both to get a feel for the area, how large his ranch is, how many hands—if we can find that out—and what we’re dealing with in general. Lil said there was a lot of shooting way back on the property when she and Rick were there. They heard the gunfire and according to Rick it was machine guns.”

  “I know you can’t tell me the mission, but I’m thinking maybe he’s training… people… possibly mercenaries and he has to be stopped.”

  “Somebody wants him stopped, and I don’t know the reason. Don’t need to know, but I’m sure it’s substantial. I’ll stop him. That’s what I’m good at. Let’s go see Paul Leggatt’s ranch.”

  Fayette Memorial Hospital. La Grange.

  JESSE was sitting up in bed when Blaine arrived at Fayette Memorial. He’d been moved into a private room, a sure sign he was doing better.

  “Hey, partner, you look a helluva lot better than the last time I saw you.”

  “I can go home soon,” said Jesse, “if I behave myself. Can’t wait to get out of here.”

  “Has Ty been bringing Charity to see you?”

  Jesse grinned. “Yep, she toddles around the room and touches everything she shouldn’t touch, then she gets tired and Ty takes her home.”

  “Farrell questioned Heather Bunch yesterday and she blamed everything on her father.”

  “Is that Skylar’s name? Heather Bunch?”

  “She has a nice thick jacket going back about ten years, but she told Farrell she’d never been in trouble with the cops before.”

  “Good liar.”

  “See the news last night?”

  Jesse nodded and pointed up at the tiny TV. “Yep, you guys were busy.”

  Blaine filled him in on the takedown. “Fletch was excellent under pressure. Good reactions.”

  “I like him,” said Jesse.

  Blaine stood up. “Gotta go. The gun control people are capitalizing on yesterday’s news. They’re marching on the sidewalk in front of the Capitol where Doyle Marshall was shot and I’m guessing we might have trouble.”

  “Jeeze,” said Jesse. “Does it ever end?”

  West of Austin.

  ANNIE drove her red truck down the lane into the Lazy L and parked near the barn. She figured Leggatt would be watching for her, and if he wasn’t she’d have a minute or two to look around before he came out of the house.

  Instead, he surprised her. He was standing right next to her truck when she jumped out. She hadn’t seen him when she’d driven into the compound and had no idea where he’d come from. “Ooh,” she said with a little start, “I didn’t see you there.”

  He winked at her. “I can be tricky.”

  I’m sure you can be.

  “I’m Annie Powell,” she held out her hand and Leggatt took it gently and brought it to his lips instead of shaking it. He was a charmer.

  “I’m well aware of who the stunningly beautiful Annie Powell is, and, my dear, your pictures do not do you justice.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Leggatt, you are a flatterer.”

  “Please call me Paul. It’s not often I have such gorgeous feminine company on my ranch. Why don’t we have some coffee before we look over the stock.”

  “I’d love a coffee, sir. I was a bit rushed this morning.”

  He ushered her into the ranch house—more like a mountain lodge—through the foyer and into a cozy sitting room next to the kitchen. “The house is too big for me now. I use one of the bedrooms, the kitchen and this sitting room. The rest is pretty much wasted space.”

  “I guess I’m the opposite,” said Annie. “My inclination to keep my boys close to me usually means I have a full house.”

  Leggatt strolled into the kitchen, poured coffee and returned with a tray. “I’m sorry I don’t have any sweet rolls to offer you.”

  “Coffee is all I need.”

  Paul sat down in one of the leather wing chairs and studied her face. “What made you decide to come see my stock?”

  She shrugged. “I thought it might be fun to bring in a new bloodline. My boys at the barn get excited when we have unique markings, and I try to please them.”

  “Wayne Pickett has a stellar reputation,” said Leggatt. “I’ve seen him at some of the shows with your trainer—the Apache lad with the long hair.”

  “Monroe. The heart and soul of my horses.”

  Leggatt paused for a moment in thought. “I’m sure you could obtain what you needed from your ex-husband’s stock, if you wanted fresh blood.”

  He doesn’t trust me.

  Annie giggled. “Possible on a day he was speaking to me, I suppose.”

  Leggatt raised an eyebrow. “You’re not on the best of terms?”

  “He divorced me. What can I say?”

  “Can’t imagine why, but I’m sure you received a staggering settlement from Quantrall Oil to heal your wounds.”

  “I didn’t bother.”

  “You didn’t bother with the Quantrall fortune?”

  Annie laughed again. “I’m not that kind of girl.” She winked at Paul and color rushed to his face.

  “What kind of girl are you, or is that a personal question?”

  “All your questions have been personal, Paul. Don’t you think?”

  “Maybe so. I don’t deny I might be in the market for some female company.”

  “Are you?”

  “I didn’t realize it until you arrived, and I’m a little off balance treading unfamiliar territory, but I’d have to say yes to that question.”

  Annie finished her coffee and set her cup down. “Maybe you’ll call and ask me to dinner soon and we can discuss your needs further.” She stood up and picked up her purse. “Shall we look at your beauties in the barn?”

  The Capitol. Austin.

  BLAINE drove from the hospital in La Grange straight to the Capitol grounds to check on the peaceful protest. Using the word ‘peaceful’ in the same sentence as ‘protest’ was asking for trouble.

  Misty would say tempting the Fates.

  Carlos and Fletcher were in position, one on each side of the action and the city had sent several squads of uniforms to hang around and maintain order by their very presence.

  The media turnout was huge. Vans were parked all up and down the side streets in the area. Reporters were mingling with the protesters, recording gems of wisdom for the news at six while cameras rolled hoping for an outbreak of violence. That’s what they always wanted—violence. Violence raised ratings.

  The air was thick with tension and Blaine couldn’t shake it off. He felt like throat punching someone. He sauntered over and stood next to Farrell. “Okay, so far?”

  “Boring so far, bro, but I’d say that’s about to change.”

  Bla
ine turned to see where Farrell was looking, and he saw men and women jumping out of a big yellow school bus parked across the street. “Oh, shit. There’s a load of the fuckin gunnies. Now were gonna have some fun.”

  Blaine ran over to the closest Austin PD uniform. “See that bus unloading over there?”

  “Yeah, I see it, Ranger B. Who are they? More marchers?”

  “I think they’re the opposition. The fuckers will try to disrupt the protest and turn it into a fuckin riot. Get your tasers and Billy clubs ready. Spread the word.” Blaine pulled out his cell. “I’m calling for more help.”

  The Chief answered on the first ring. “What’s up, Blacky?”

  “I’m at the monument where the protest is, and a bus load of gunnies just arrived. I need people. Now.”

  “Yep, sending.”

  “Send a bus.”

  “Roger that.”

  The gunnies from the school bus stormed across the road mowing down any media people who happened to get in their way. With a lot of hollering and profanity, the gunnies pushed and shoved their way into the crowd of protestors, grabbing the signs out of the picketers’ hands and smashing them on the ground.

  The anti-gun people reacted and fought back and in seconds a full-blown riot was underway. Punching, kicking, gouging and screaming. Men and women all mixed in one big angry tangle of arms, legs and fists. The uniforms were outnumbered. They tasered the ones they could reach and cuffed them when they hit the ground, but there were too many fighting bodies. They couldn’t get them all.

  Blaine called for ambulances and hoped the Chief’s men wouldn’t be much longer. He heard sirens in the distance and wondered if it would be enough? He was helpless to do anything unless he shot them all, and the thought had crossed his mind. He’d lost sight of Carlos and Farrell. They were in the middle of the fighting and they shouldn’t be. They’d be bashed up and hurt and to what end? There was no happy ending without reinforcements.

  Eight squads arrived along with a bus for the arrests and the Rangers stormed the remaining fighters and took them down. More sirens and this time it was the ambulances. The casualties were mostly bashed up and bleeding, maybe a few broken bones. No dead bodies. Not this time.

  The media people rolled on with their filming, delighted to see so much action they could display on the news. Portraying Austin as something it wasn’t. That’s what it was all about. Sensationalism.

  Blaine walked through the battlefield searching for Farrell and Carlos. Luke and Fletch had arrived with the wave of Rangers and helped secure the cuffed fighters in the back of the bus for transport. Austin PD could have them, it was after all a city issued permit.

  Farrell wiped his bleeding face with his shirttail and Blaine noticed the beginnings of a shiner. Carlos appeared to be relatively unscathed. “Drive around to the Grille parking lot and I’ll get you guys a beer and a steak sandwich.”

  “Jesus in a handcart,” said Farrell, “that was a fucked up mess.”

  “Let’s get out of here,” said Blaine.

  At the restaurant, Blaine parked beside Farrell’s truck and they walked together into the Grille.

  Farrell had looked better and he was limping slightly. One of those yahoos had probably kicked his bad leg.

  Blaine’s cell rang, and it was Cat.

  “I saw that disaster on TV, sweetie. Are you okay?”

  “Farrell ain’t so hot. Come downstairs. I’m having a beer with the boys before we move on to the next clusterfuck.”

  “I’ll be right down.”

  Coulter-Ross Ranch. La Grange.

  ANNIE made Travis a sandwich when they arrived back at Coulter-Ross and they took their lunch into the office to discuss the Leggatt problem. Annie was sitting in her chair behind her desk and Travis was in one of the club chairs in front, the sandwiches and coffee cups between them. They were deep into their conversation when Tyler tapped once on the door and stuck his head in.

  “Am I interrupting?” He took one look at Travis and set his jaw. “Yep, I can see that I am.” He turned on his heel and stomped off down the hallway.

  Annie heard the front door slam and didn’t bother running after him.

  Travis grinned. “I screwed something up there, didn’t I?”

  “Nope. Ty was a mess already. You didn’t do it. Nobody can fix him.”

  The Grille. Austin.

  CAT showed up at Blaine’s table at the Grille as the server was delivering the second round of beer.

  “Good afternoon, Governor Campbell, what can I get you?”

  “I’ll have a glass of white wine and the chicken pecan salad.” She sat down next to Carlos and stared at Farrell’s face. “Look at you, Donovan. You poor thing.”

  “Yeah, I deserve a week off with double pay.”

  Blaine ignored him and chugged his fresh Corona.

  “Am I saying something profound about the riot?” asked Cat.

  “You can’t take sides,” said Blaine, “so you can’t come right out and blame the pro-gunners. All you can say is the individuals who incited the riot have all been charged.”

  The Governor finished her wine and looked longingly at her empty glass. “Do I have to do it live?”

  Cat has always been afraid of the media.

  “You and Mary can do it in your office if you want to,” said Blaine, “I’ll send her over.”

  “I think I have about fifteen minutes around four-thirty.”

  Blaine pulled out his cell. “I’ll text her.”

  Windsor Park Area. Austin.

  AFTER WORK, Laura May drove by the address at the top of her list. It was almost dark as she parked down the block and carefully locked her car. Her hands trembled as she shoved the keys into the pocket of her suit jacket and felt the little plastic bag.

  She walked quickly down the drive and past the side door, wondering if there was a back way in. A light was on in one of the windows but even on her tiptoes, Laura May was barely tall enough to see inside. It might be the kitchen. She finished circling the house and tried the back door. Locked. Panic rose in her chest as she wondered how Todd had done this so easily in the past.

  She retraced her steps to the other door—the one with the ramp—and tried it. Unlocked. Laura May slipped inside as silently as possible and listened to see where the lady was. The TV was on somewhere. She prepared the injection, inhaled a deep breath and walked into the next room.

  Intent on watching the news, the woman sat in her wheelchair with her eyes focused on the TV screen. Laura stuck the needle in the back of her neck and pushed the plunger. Startled, the woman emitted a tiny cry, but in seconds her head dropped forward, and she was unconscious. Death would be immediate.

  Laura May began her search for the book. She checked all possibilities in the living room, dining room and kitchen, opening drawers and doors and she couldn’t find it. There were only two small bedrooms left. It had to be in one of them. She started with the biggest one thinking it was where the woman slept and might be where she read. Nothing.

  Her chest was tight, and she feared she’d been there too long. She had to get out of the house and get home. The only place she hadn’t looked was the closet. She pushed the dresses and jackets out of the way and spied a tote bag on the floor. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw the book inside.

  In a full panic, Laura May grabbed the bag and left the house. She hurried to her car, trying not to break into a run. She slipped behind the wheel, prayed the car would start and when it did, she gave it too much gas as she pulled away from the curb.

  By the time Laura May parked in her own garage, she was in tears. She slumped behind the wheel and never moved for a good five minutes.

  That was too stressful. I can’t do that again.

  “I have to find Todd and make him come home.”

  Coulter-Ross Ranch. La Grange.

  ANNIE climbed into bed after a long relaxing bubble bath. She was addicted to the French Vanilla scent she could only get at one of the excl
usive shops in Vegas and her supply was running low. A trip to Vegas was in her near future.

  She picked up the book she was in the middle of and her cell rang. Paul Leggatt. She smiled as she answered.

  “I haven’t been able to think of much else since you left my ranch today,” he said. “Would you have dinner with me tomorrow evening, Annie?”

  “That’s possible. Do you want me to meet you in the city?”

  “I was thinking of the Driskill Grille. Have you been there?”

  “I have and it’s one of my favorites.”

  “Let me take care of the reservation and I’ll call you tomorrow with the time.”

  “I’m looking forward to it,” said Annie.

  “Not as much as I am,” said Paul.

  Annie ended the call and texted Travis.

  “We have lift-off. Dinner tomorrow night at the Driskill.”

  “Call me tomorrow when you have a plan.”

  “10-4.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Thursday, June 4th.

  The Blackmore Agency. Austin.

  LUKE placed an evidence bag on the kitchen table before the morning meeting got under way. “We got the book from evidence, yesterday, boss, but the day went to hell. Sorry.”

  “No problem,” said Blaine. “I’ll take care of it later. Misty is still in bed sleeping.”

  “No Travis this morning?” asked Carlos.

  “He’s on assignment,” said Blaine. “Back in a few.”

  Farrell slumped down at the table with a mug of coffee in his hand. His nose was swollen, and his right eye was almost closed, shades of dark blue and purple with a big black ring around it.

  Carm fussed over him, brought him an icepack and said she would make him waffles to cheer him up.

 

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