by Carolina Mac
“Listen to that fuckin gunfire,” said Farrell. “Wonder how many men they had on the premises just hanging around?”
“Let’s go take a roll call.”
The double doors of the first Quonset hut stood open and the light was on inside. Two of Kramer’s special agents lay dead on the dirt floor.
The gunfire was coming from one of the other huts and that’s where Blaine and Farrell headed on the run. They passed two bodies lying on the ground as they made their way to the hut. As they got close enough they could hear the yelling.
A woman was screaming out orders. “Get off my property, or I’ll kill all of you. This guy will be first.”
Blaine risked a peek in the doorway and caught a flash of a blonde woman in camo gear holding a knife to Kramer’s throat. Two of Kramer’s men stood with their hands up, their guns on the dirt floor at their feet. He backed out and stood in the shadows with Farrell. “Where’s her backup?” he asked Farrell in a whisper.
“Let me take a jog around. Be right back.”
HEARING gunfire coming from the barracks, Travis and Fletcher ran across the compound with Luke and Carlos right behind them. “See if there’s a back way in,” hollered Travis and sent Luke and Carlos to the rear of the building.
Travis stood to one side of the open door and listened to the yelling inside. “Why did you guys come here? Are you idiots? Look what you’ve done. You led the feds straight to us and all our work is gonna be for nothing.”
“We had no where else to go with Leggatt dead. You promised to take care of us and you didn’t give a shit when we got arrested, you fuckin liar.”
Bang.
“Drop it.”
“That’s Carlos behind them,” said Travis. “Let’s take him.” Travis rushed through the door figuring the shooter would be looking at Carlos and he was. Two other cowboys sat on bunks and Luke had them covered.
“Drop the guns,” hollered Travis.
The shooter was a tall guy with a two hundred dollar haircut and shiny leather loafers with tassels.
“Make me.” He spun around with a grin on his face, but the grin didn’t last long.
Bang.
The shooter dropped to the floor and his gun fell from his hand. He howled in pain and clutched his leg where Carlos’ bullet had caught him in the thigh.
Travis hollered into his head set. “Lil, ambulance.”
“Roger that, Travis.
FARRELL ARRIVED at Travis’ position in time to see that Travis had the barracks situation in hand and ran back to Blacky. He’d only been gone three minutes and the situation with Kramer hadn’t changed. The woman still had the knife to Kramer’s throat making demands and Kramer’s lackeys were still standing with their hands in the air.
“Don’t know where the rest of Kramer’s men are. Must be in the other hut or in the lodge,” said Farrell.
“Don’t matter,” said Blaine. “I’ve got this. He ran full speed into the Quonset hut, past the crates of ordnance and past the two feds with their hands in the air and their dicks up their asses and he fired one shot on the run.
Bang.
The woman dropped to the dirt and Kramer pissed himself.
The Special Agents ran to help their boss and Blaine retreated, talking to Lil on his head set. “Medical Examiner, and local Sheriff. Lil. I just shot a woman in the head.”
“Roger that, boss. Ambulance should be here soon for Travis’ customer.”
“I’ll check that situation out right after Farrell and I clear the third hut and the house.”
THE THIRD hut was larger than the other two and four of Kramer’s guys were in there prying open crates and drooling over the shiny new machine guns like kids on Christmas morning. One of them looked up when Blaine and Farrell walked in.
“We’re all good in here, Ranger Blackmore. Don’t need any help.”
Farrell clenched and unclenched his fist as Blaine eased his brother out the door. “Let’s go see the animal heads on the walls in the house.”
“Is that what Misty said?”
“Yep, and big horns on the fireplace.”
“Cool,” said Farrell. “I’ll take a picture for her.”
They climbed the steps up to the porch and Farrell glanced in the front window before they barged in. “Don’t see anybody.”
Blaine opened the door and stepped into a generous foyer. The place smelled of a recent mesquite fire and Blaine followed his nose to the massive stone wall hung with a huge set of horns.
Farrell snapped a picture for Misty, then pivoted and took pictures of the heads with the sad eyes all around the room.
“Call your girlfriend and get a team out here to tear this lodge apart.”
“You call her,” said Farrell. “I’m busy.”
Blaine spoke into his head set. “Lil, we need a team of techs for the house.”
“Yep, I’ll make some calls, boss.”
“You can come look around if you want, Lil. All quiet now. We’re in cleanup mode.”
“Soon as I call the lab.”
Cowboys Rodeo. San Antonio.
ANNIE AND TYLER danced the last dance of the night at Cowboys and it was a slow one. Ty was a little drunk, but not too drunk to dance. He was never that drunk.
He held Annie close to him with his cheek resting on her hair. “I love you, baby. I want to stay like this, dancing with you forever.”
Annie tipped her face up towards him and he kissed her. “I love you Ty. I want you to move to Coulter-Ross.”
He smiled. “I’ve lived there a time or two. Guess I could do it again if you want me in your bed.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Saturday, June 13th.
The Blackmore Agency. Austin.
BLAINE was exhausted from the events of the previous day and wanted a quiet Saturday all to himself, but it wasn’t meant to be. He and Misty were seated at the little table in the window alcove, she drinking green tea and him enjoying his third cup of Panama blend. His phone jangled, and Misty said in a whisper, “don’t answer it, Beb.”
Blaine pulled the cell of his belt and glanced at the screen. Black cat. “It’s the Governor,” he said.
“It’s Saturday,” said Misty. “Tell the bitch to call back on Monday.”
Blaine chuckled. “Morning, Cat. Que Pasa?”
“There’s an ugly rumor floating on the air that you killed Senator Royce’s wife. Tell me it isn’t true.”
“I killed a woman who had a knife to the throat of Special Agent Kramer. Can’t say who she was, but I’m sure I’ll find out.”
“Jeeze, sweetie, couldn’t you get an ID on her first?”
“She was going to kill a government agent. What would you do?”
Cat giggled. “No idea, but why in hell would the senator’s wife be a knife-wielding crazy?”
“That’s not my problem,” said Blaine. “That’s Royce’s problem. Maybe that’s why he spends so much time in DC.”
“Could be,” said Cat. “So, it’s true, you did blow her brains out?”
“If she was the one using Special Agent in Charge Kramer for a hostage, then I’d have to say, “Si, Senorita.”
“Shit.”
“Hey, I didn’t make her cheat on her husband and fall for a gun-crazed lunatic,” said Blaine. “Wasn’t me.”
“Who notified the next of kin?”
“Meaning the big man himself?”
“Uh huh.”
“No idea. Want me to find out?”
“If you could. I don’t like being in the dark.”
“Back at you, Cat.”
Misty made a face and sipped her tea while Blaine made a call to Chief Calhoun.
“Morning, Chief, any flak flying your way this morning?”
“A little. I had to call Royce and tell him about his wife.”
“Sorry about that, Chief, but she stuck a seal knife in Kramer’s throat and used him as a hostage.”
“Kramer is a trained Special Agent in charge of
a team of Special Agents. How did he get himself in that position? That’s the real question, isn’t it?”
“Last time we met, I had my doubts about him,” said Blaine, “but this time I went in with my eyes wide open. The guy’s an asshole.”
The Chief chuckled. “I met Mrs. Royce once before at some charity thing and she seemed quiet and refined. I can’t picture her as a blade woman.”
Blaine chuckled. “I’ll give you all the details on Monday.”
“Damn it, son. Wish I’d been there.”
Waco Courthouse.
JESSE sat in the front row at the courthouse in Waco waiting for Chuck Royce’s arraignment. Royce Junior’s case was the third one called and R.J. Tone, the Royce family watch dog was with him.
“How do you plead?” asked the judge.
“Not guilty,” said Chuck.
“Your plea has been entered.” The judge set bail and Tone accompanied his client to arrange the bond.
Jesse called Blaine from his Range Rover before he left the courthouse parking lot.
“You at the arraignment, partner?”
“Chuck and his lawyer are arranging bail. What do you want me to do?”
“Does he know about his mother?” asked Blaine.
“I asked Jim Hanson about that earlier and he said Tone had told him when they had their morning meeting.”
“As long as he knows,” said Blaine. “The senator has been phoning Catherine and raising hell.”
“Not a lot Catherine can do if both his wife and his son are criminals.”
“Do you think the mother got the son involved?” asked Blaine, “or do you think the senator was a player too?”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if it was the mother. They were the two living at the ranch while Charlie lived in DC most of the year.”
“Caldwell, her supposed boyfriend is in our infirmary at DPS. I have to question him this afternoon.”
“Want me to do it?” asked Jesse. “I’m on my way back to Austin and it’s not out of my way.”
“Fantastic, partner. I promised Misty some quiet time this weekend.”
“I’ll call when I’m done with him, and we’ll chew over what he tells me—if anything.”
“Better still, come by the house when you’re done, and we’ll have a beer while we’re chewing it over.”
“Sounds good. See you in a few hours.”
The Blackmore Agency. Austin.
BLAINE’S NEXT call was from Kramer.
“Morning, Special Agent, get everything squared away from your big take down?”
“That will take some doing. We’ll have people out at Caldwell’s place for the next couple of weeks cataloguing everything.”
“Jesse will be doing the prelim interview at DPS this afternoon. Would you like a copy of that?”
“Yes, please. I’ll send someone to talk to Caldwell, but it won’t be until Monday at least.”
“He won’t be going anywhere for a while,” said Blaine.
“I want to thank you for saving my life, Ranger Blackmore. My own men were standing by and lord knows they knew the protocol in a hostage situation.”
“Some situations are more volatile than others and people react differently under pressure.”
“You’re being kind, Blackmore. We both know the truth. Anyway, thanks for that and thanks for the bust. It was my best one since the last one you gave me in Houston.”
“You’re welcome.” Blaine pressed end and went to the coffee maker for a fresh cup.
Ranger Headquarters. Austin.
JESSE strode down the hall at DPS recalling the last time he’d descended the steps into the holding cell area, and he vowed to take it easier this time. He took his time and at the bottom of the stairs turned to his left. He passed the cells and there were a few hoots and hollers from the residents, but he ignored them. He tapped on the door of the infirmary, showed his badge to the nurse on duty and she opened the door for him.
“I’d like to see Jason Caldwell, please.”
“Follow me, Ranger Quantrall, Mr. Caldwell is second bed from the end.”
“Thanks.” Jesse pulled up a chair beside the bed and sat down to catch his breath. “Mr. Caldwell, I’m Jesse Quantrall and I’d like to ask you a couple of questions about the illegal weapons found on your property yesterday.”
“That was an illegal search, Ranger, and I should know. I’m an attorney.”
“The ATF had a warrant, sir, that gave them the right to search for illegal weapons, explosives and other specific things listed on the warrant.”
“Your super cop killed Linda and I’ll get him for that.”
“I believe Mrs. Royce had a knife to a hostage’s throat at the time, sir, and she refused to stand down.”
“Bullshit, I know how you cops twist things around to suit your own purposes.”
“What I’m wondering is why you felt the need to stockpile such an arsenal, sir?”
“It should be obvious, Ranger. More than ever the time is coming when the ordinary citizen will have to defend himself. Being prepared is the answer.”
The Blackmore Agency. Austin.
FARRELL slept late after the hours the crew put in the day before. He padded into the kitchen and poured himself a mug of coffee, hugged Carm as she made pancake batter like she always did on the weekends, then went to the kitchen table for the sugar bowl.
Through the kitchen window that faced the road, he caught a glimpse of something, but his brain didn’t tell him what it was. Without alarming anyone, he zipped down the hall to the gun room, selected one of his rifles from the glass case and sauntered down the hall.
Blaine saw him pass the kitchen door with the gun in his hand and gave a shout out. “What’s going down?”
“Thought I saw something. Stay there.”
Blaine hopped up and followed Farrell to the door.
“Stay in,” said Farrell. “I fuckin mean it.” He stood on the porch peering through the scope looking for the flash that he was sure he’d seen. Nothing out there.
Blacky stuck his head out the door. “I don’t know what you’re looking for.” He stepped onto the porch and a bullet hit the shake wall behind him.
Bang.
Farrell fired, and Chuck Royce toppled off the top of Blaine’s security fence into one of Carm’s flower beds.
Rick and Andy ran from the carriage house to see what was happening. They knelt beside Royce Junior in the calla lilies and felt for a pulse. Nothing. He was dead.
Farrell made a call. “Morning, Chief, how’s your weekend going?”
“Not bad until now, Farrell. What did you do, son?”
“I blasted Chuck Junior off the top of our fence while he was taking pot shots at Blacky’s head.”
“Oh, goddammit.”
I sincerely hope you enjoyed Dead-Eye, book fourteen in the Blackmore Agency Series. If you would like to continue to book fifteen in the series, Backwater, I’ve included some pages for you.
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Author Notes from Carolina:
My granddaughter got married last week and it’s been a busy time for us, but I’m back to writing. This series won’t be ending anytime soon. I’m working on several more books featuring your favorite characters and mine too. Happy reading.
A special thank you to the fans who take the time to reach out and share their ideas, support, and opinions. You know who you are, Holly, Lynn, Dorothy, Shelley, Diane, Wendy, Shirley and Freda, Dawn, Alice, Billy and Melinda, Jim and Gayle, Ava, Terry and Celestia to name a few. If I missed you here, message me and it won’t happen again.
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Carolina Mac is the author of over fifty books in four different series. The Regulators biker series, The Quantrall PI series, The Paradise Park series and The Blackmore Agency series. Carolina lives with her family in Ontario, Canada.
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The Regulators, Quantrall, and Blackmore series’ are best enjoyed if read in order.
Regulator Series:
Lily
Bad Beat
Panama Annie
Coulter
Searching for Billy
End of an Era
Wingman
Triple Homicide
The Foundation
Hotline
Powell
Quantrall Series:
Quantrall
Ink Minx
Ray Jay
Blacky
The Coven
You Forgot to say Goodbye
Payback
Rags to Rage
The Corner Office
Race
Coma
No Defense
Full Circle
The Blackmore Agency Series:
Double Down
Splitting Aces
Dead Man’s Hand
Drawing Dead
Under the Gun
Rivered
The Turn
Final Table
Cat
Dog
Vigilance
Mystere
Hole in the Heart
Dead Eye
Backwater
Paradise Park Series:
Paradise Park
Return to Paradise
Paradise Sparks
Alone in Paradise
Together in Paradise
