by Carolina Mac
She pulled on a snug pair of gloves, slid the screen back and stepped inside. She set her gun down by the door, picked up the plates and forks, took her pie container and the rest of the pie and shoved all of it into a plastic bag she’d brought for the purpose. She grabbed her gun and left everything exactly the way it was.
When she got back to her truck, she took off the gloves and texted Travis.
TRAVIS and Farrell were sitting in the back of the surveillance unit deciding what to do.
“Should we go in and check on her?” asked Travis.
“Give her a few more minutes,” said Farrell.
Travis’ cell signaled a text and he grabbed for it.
“All done. Go home now.”
Travis stared at the screen and Farrell watched him with curiosity.
“What?”
“Annie-girl says we’re clear. We should go home.”
Farrell grinned. “That was a quiet one, Mom.”
ON THE WAY home to Coulter-Ross, Annie disposed of the rest of the coconut cream pie. “Too bad. It looked really good.” And while she was stopped she sent a text.
“Done.”
“That’s my girl.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Wednesday, June 10th.
Lazy L Ranch. West of Austin.
BLAINE was on his way to the courthouse to meet Jesse at Laura Schell’s arraignment when he got a call from Chief Calhoun.
“Your presence is required at the Leggatt ranch, Blacky. Leggatt and his bodyguard were found dead this morning. Mort’s on his way.”
“Were they shot?” asked Blaine.
“Nope. Just dead.”
Not shot? What the fuck?
He drove west and called Jesse. “Can’t meet you, partner. You’ll have to fly solo on the arraignment and the interview.”
“What’s up.”
“I’m heading to Leggatt’s ranch. The boss man and his bodyguard are both dead.”
“Oh, yeah? Can’t wait to hear the details.”
Blaine’s next call was to Farrell. “Hey, bro, we’ll need guys at Leggatt’s ranch, but you already knew that, right?”
“Got in late and didn’t wake you up to tell you.”
“Don’t matter. Leave Luke and Fletch at Laura Schell’s house and bring Carlos with you. We can toss the whole ranch now and find the arsenal.”
“Do you want Mary if we’re going to break it?”
“Yep, call Mary and have her meet us there.”
“Roger that.”
THE LAZY L RANCH was choked with police vehicles when Blaine arrived. He parked near the barn, strode inside, chains clanking on his Harley boots and nodded to everyone he knew. “Morning all.”
Doctor Simon and his assistant Tim were in the little sitting room attached to the kitchen. Mort glanced up at Blaine and said, “What the hell is going on, Blacky? There’s not a mark on either one of them. Is this the new norm? It’s driving me fucking nuts.”
“You prefer half a head, Doc?” asked Blaine.
“At least a nice clean bullet hole,” said the ME.
“No mess, no fuss,” said Blaine. “Anything?”
“Nada,” said Mort. “Although these two appear on the surface to be matching coronaries, I bet when I get them on the table there won’t be a damn thing.”
“Maybe they both had heart attacks at the same time,” said Blaine with a smile. He strolled onto the front porch to wait for Farrell and Carlos and lit up a smoke.
He pressed the Agency number and got Lil. “Hey, Lil, it’s me. Do you remember that ATF guy out of Houston that I don’t like?”
Lil giggled, then answered, “Special Agent Kramer?”
“Yeah, see if you can dig up a number for the asshole and have him call me.”
“Yep, we might have it in our ‘just in case’ numbers.”
“Do we have one of those?”
“Sure do.”
FARRELL arrived with Carlos ten minutes later and searched for a place to park his red truck where it wouldn’t get scratched. He walked back from the barn and glanced around. “They started the search yet?”
“Nope. But we could ride back to the range and see what’s in plain sight,” said Blaine.
“The main bunker might be underground,” said Carlos, “if it’s on this property, or it could be somewhere else.”
“Before we go looking, bro, Trav and I heard something and it ain’t good.”
“Nothing is good about any of this,” said Blaine with a scowl, “so it’s something worse than that.”
“Guess so,” said Farrell.
“Spit it out.” Blaine took a stance and grinned.
“Stokes is part of this.”
“No.” Blaine kicked the dirt and hollered, “Jesus Christ, don’t tell me that.”
“You said to spit it out.” Farrell chuckled.
“Not that.”
Farrell shrugged. “You better call Miss Kitty.”
“Motherfucking asshole,” Blaine hollered, and Carlos smiled. Blaine sucked in a breath and waved them off. “Go off-roading and see what you can find. I’ll wait for Mary.”
“Yep, we’re gone to the back forty.” Farrell chuckled.
Austin Courthouse.
JESSE sat in the first row behind the gate and watched the bailiff bring Laura Schell into the courtroom.
“Where is your legal representation, Miss Schell?” asked the judge. “You know you have the right to counsel?”
“Yes, sir. I don’t need a lawyer.”
“You’ve been charged with three counts of murder, Miss Schell. You should consider an attorney.”
She shook her head and the judge shrugged. “The clerk has read the charges, Miss Schell. How do you plead?”
“Not guilty.”
“Your plea has been entered into the record. On three counts of premeditated murder, there will be no bail.”
“My cat is at home alone.”
“Someone at DPS will make arrangements for your cat, ma’am.” The judge banged the gavel down. “Call the next case.”
Lazy L Ranch. West of Austin.
FARRELL AND CARLOS covered acres and acres of Leggatt’s land and saw nothing but pasture and a shooting range. No out buildings of any kind.
“Let’s check the barn,” said Carlos. “Never know. Kind of obvious, but we should look.”
“Yeah, the techs will search the house for trace, but we’re looking for bigger stuff.” Farrell parked near the barn and he and Carlos went inside.
A couple of hired hands were looking after the prize horses the Lazy L was famous for. “Mind if we look around?” asked Farrell. “I’m Ranger Donovan and this is Deputy Rios.”
“Help yourself,” said the cowboy. “Nothing in here but oats, hay and horseshit.”
“The barn floor is poured concrete,” said Carlos. “They couldn’t go down. Let’s check the loft.”
Upstairs the loft was packed tight with hay and straw. Hardly room for a handgun. “Nope, nothing up here,” said Farrell. “Maybe there’s a basement under the house.”
“Could be,” said Carlos, “or under the bunkhouse.”
“If it was under the bunkhouse, all the hands would know everything that was going on,” said Farrell, “and I guess that might be possible.”
“We’ll check the main house first,” said Carlos.
As they walked to the house from the barn, Mary Polito arrived and hopped out of her Mini Cooper. Farrell hugged her hello and gave her a quick kiss.
“Anything?” asked Blaine.
“Not yet,” said Farrell, “looking for a basement.”
“Uh huh,” said Blaine, “don’t give up until you find it. It’s here. Has to be.”
“What’s here?” Mary asked Blaine. “You didn’t say much on the phone.”
Blaine explained about Paul Leggatt and his group of pro-gun fanatics. “We haven’t found the bunker yet. The boys are still looking.”
“I haven’t heard a whi
sper about any of this,” said Mary. “My boss will be excited if we have the story first.”
Blaine’s cell rang, and Kramer’s name came up. He frowned then pressed the talk button. “Special Agent Kramer, I’m in the middle of something that may concern you and I wanted a locate in case I need you on short notice.”
“How short?”
“An hour or two?”
“I’m at the office in Houston. So… two hours to Austin if that’s where you are. I wouldn’t make the trip unless it was worthwhile.”
“I have no idea what you consider ‘worthwhile,’ so I’ll wait and see. Might not need you.” Blaine pressed end. “Arrogant asshole. I knew he was an asshole before I had Lil call him. What did I expect?”
Mary giggled.
SUE the lead forensic tech greeted Farrell when he and Carlos came into the house. “Hey, Farrell, nice to see you. Anything special you’re looking for?”
“A basement if you’ve got one.”
“Nope, all I’ve got is a crawl space and it’s been checked. What’s your next option?”
“Bunkhouse,” said Carlos. “Going there now.”
Farrell led the way out the front door. “If it is under the fuckin bunkhouse, we’re gonna have to presume all the hands are part of his group. Gotta run it by Blacky.”
Blaine was leaning on the porch rail with his cell in his hand as the boys came out the door. “What are you running by me?”
“Bunkhouse is last,” said Farrell, “So all those hands have to be cleared out of there before we search.”
“I should have rounded them all up anyway,” said Blaine. “I did put a squad on the gate so none of them could get out.”
“Any idea how many cowboys work for Leggatt?” asked Carlos.
“No clue, but Annie has six to eight hands working all the time and this place is about twice as big.”
“Let me round up some uniforms and we’ll secure them all in one room for now while we toss their digs,” said Farrell.
It took about an hour to locate all the hired hands as they went about their business of running the ranch, and they weren’t happy to be corralled into the barn office for questioning. All of them protested loudly saying they only worked the ranch and took care of the horses. Every last one of them maintained they knew nothing about their boss’s private business.
With the bunkhouse residents out of the way Blaine and Mary joined Farrell and Carlos. The frame house that housed the cowboys was a large sprawling one storey with three bedrooms, two sets of bunks in each, and a huge kitchen with a big wooden table in the center and a TV/lounge area off to the side.
Carlos searched the outside perimeter looking for signs of a basement underneath and didn’t find one. “Doesn’t look like there’s a basement, but there must be.”
“We’ll check every inch of the floor,” said Farrell. “If there is a basement, there has to be a way to get down there.”
Mary sat on one of the kitchen chairs and took notes of everything that was happening. She moved her chair closer to the table and one of the legs got caught up in the rug. She stood up trying to free the chair leg from the rug and saw the hinge. “Farrell, this might be something.”
“What, Mary?”
Mary was down on her knees rolling the carpet out of the way. “Yep, it’s a trapdoor, I think.”
“Help me move the table, Carlos.”
Once the big heavy table was out of the way and the carpet rolled up, the entrance was easy to see. Farrell flipped up the hinged piece of pine floor and peered at the set of steps leading to the lower level. “Let me see if there are any lights down there.”
Mary took pictures on her phone.
Farrell hollered up. “Yep, we’ve got lights. Y’all better come down and see this.”
The first room opened up at the bottom of the stairs and it was huge. Floor to ceiling shelves held ordnance of every description. Sniper rifles. Scopes. Automatic weapons. Grenades. Shotguns. Handguns. Explosives. Semtex. Detonator caps.
Farrell opened the door into the second room and the shelves on three walls were filled with boxes of ammunition. The shelves around the doorway held cardboard boxes. Farrell pulled one box off the shelf and opened it. Neatly stacked bricks of money.
Farrell glanced into the back room and it was full of combat gear. Body armor, night vision goggles, everything a soldier might need.
He returned to the middle room and called to Blaine. “Big bucks in here, bro.”
Blaine came through the door and peered into the box. “How many boxes like that are there?”
Farrell pointed to the wall of identical boxes. “How many do you want?”
“Fuck.” To Carlos: “Go get Sue. She needs to get pictures and get this mess documented.” To Farrell: “Call the Chief to come see this and order a bus to take the cowboys to headquarters.”
“Right, boss.”
Old West Austin.
FLETCHER AND LUKE helped the team search Laura Schell’s home for evidence and there was a lot of ‘stuff’ to search through, like knick-knacks and junk she’d hoarded, but there wasn’t much in the way of hard evidence that the boss needed and wanted to take to the DA.
Luke reached down and patted the big fluffy cat that circled around his legs. “He’s purring.”
“Nice cat,” said Fletcher. “He’ll be needing a new home.”
“He needs one right quick,” Luke drawled in his Louisiana twang. “Like today. Once we’re gone, this house will be sealed up.”
“My Mom’s sad that her cat died a couple of weeks ago,” said Fletcher. “She might like this one. He’s a beauty.”
“Clear it with the boss,” said Luke. “Should be okay.” He pulled out the top drawer of the antique writing desk in the dining room and found a small tan book. “Notebook.”
“Do we have any idea what we’re looking for?” asked Fletcher.
“Trying to find something in this house to connect the woman to the victims,” said Luke. “Anything. We have nothing.”
“What’s the notebook say?”
Luke opened it and sat down on one of the dining room chairs. “It’s a list of names with the name of a book underneath and a date.”
Fletcher peered over Luke’s shoulder. “Are the three dead people on the list?”
“Yep, and they have a red tick beside their name.” Luke pointed to the marks.
“Holy fuck,” hollered Fletcher. “The two names above our three have a red tick too.”
“Jesus,” said Luke. “Those might be two unsolved.” He pulled out his cell and called Jesse.
Ranger Headquarters. Austin.
JESSE was about to begin his second interview with Laura Schell when his cell rang on his belt. “Hey, Luke, how’s the search going?”
“Just got okay, boss. Found the book with the list in it and it has our three victims on it with red ticks beside their names.”
“Fantastic. That’s hard evidence the DA can use, and I can tell her that we’ve got her cold.”
“Something else, boss,” said Luke, “Gotta tell you.”
“What is it, kiddo?”
“Two people ahead of our three and they got red tick marks too.”
“Fuck that.”
“Write these names down, boss, and see if they match any unsolved.”
“Hold on, I’ll get paper in the Chief’s office.” Jesse walked across the hall and used the Chief’s notepad. “Okay, go.” He wrote down the information. “I’ll check these two names before I interrogate her. I was just about to start.”
“Let me know, boss, if we’ve got her.”
“Good job, Luke.”
“Thanks, boss, and one other thing.” Luke asked about the cat for Fletcher’s mom and got the okay.
Jesse knocked on Ranger Ruskin’s office next door to the Chief’s and let himself in. “June, can you check two names for me and see if they might be unsolved murders?”
“Sure thing, Jesse. What have you got?�
��
Jesse pointed to the two new names Luke had given him.
June typed a few keystrokes and nodded her head a couple of times. “Not unsolved murders, but they are both listed here as suspicious deaths.”
“Thanks, June. That’s what I needed to know.”
“Did the librarian kill more than the three?”
“Luke found her list and these two names were on it along with our three.”
“My God,” said June. “That’s five people.”
LAURA SCHELL sat in the interview room with her right hand chained to the table, her free left hand over her face. She looked up when Jesse entered the room but didn’t acknowledge him. He set up the interview on the recorder, giving the case number, date and his name.
“Are you ready to begin, Miss Schell?”
“We did this yesterday. It won’t be any different.”
“I think it will be different today.” Jesse tapped his pen on the list in front of him. “I have new evidence today and I want to talk about it with you.”
“I’m too tired to talk. I couldn’t sleep on that terrible bed.”
“Sometimes people don’t think ahead to the conditions they’ll be facing if they are brought to justice for their crimes. Are you one of those people, Miss Schell?”
“The scales of justice are often unbalanced,” she said. “And often Lady Justice needs a helping hand.”
“And what did you help her with, Miss Schell?”
“If you already know, why are you asking me?”
“I think you would feel better if you said it out loud. You are responsible for the deaths of five people.”
“Five?”
“Uh huh. Yes, I know about the other two, ma’am. My men found your list and took it into evidence. We know for certain that you and your nephew killed five people. Do you want to tell me why?”
“You can figure it out.”
I can’t figure it out. It was something to do with library books.
“I know why you did it,” said Jesse. “It was about the books.”
