by Carolina Mac
“What about chips?” asked Annie.
“I forgot to show you the cash cage,” said Selecky. “My blunder.” He pointed to the other end of the room.
Travis walked beside Annie to the cage and stood silently while she bought her chips. On the way back to her seat he whispered. “Selecky is wound up so fuckin tight, he’s giving me the creeps.”
“Solicitous, sugar. That’ll do it every time.”
“Good luck, Annie-girl. I’ll be close by if you need me.”
“I always need you, Travis.” She winked at him and took her seat.
Annie beamed a smile around the table. “I’ll try to remember all your names, but if I forget will y’all help me out?”
“Sure will, Mrs. Powell,” said Sam Crawford. “A pleasure to meet you at last.”
“Y’all can call me Annie. I prefer it.” She chugged down half of her beer and stacked up her considerable quantity of chips.
The Blackmore Agency. Austin.
FARRELL checked on Blacky and he was hunkered down in his office researching the gun vendors.
Good, he’s busy. I might go downtown for an hour.
Backing out the driveway was a bit of a chore. Barely moving his left arm to turn the wheel enough to guide the truck onto the street caused a stab of pain to shoot from his shoulder to his brain. He had second thoughts about going out at all. “I’ll just drive around downtown for a few minutes. Might not get out of the truck.”
The lateness of the hour worked in his favor. Hardly any traffic on the road and he found himself in the downtown core in fifteen minutes. One cruise around Taffy’s corner and there she was leaning on the brick wall, smoking with two other girls. No customers. Sad for them. Lucky for him. He pulled up to the curb and she said something to the other girls then hopped in. “Anything interesting going on?”
“Fuck all. Downtown is dead. We were talking about calling it. Buy me a drink?”
“Okay, one, then I’m going home,” said Farrell. He drove around the block to Grady’s Irish Pub and parked.
“Never been here,” Taffy said.
“You’re shitting me,” said Farrell. “It’s around the block from y’all’s corner. You must pass it every fuckin day.”
She shrugged, and Farrell followed her inside.
Irish fiddle music blasted out of the wall-mounted speakers and the crowd hollered to be heard above it. The decibel level was high, and the whole place was in party mode.
Farrell grabbed a stool at the bar and ordered a Shiners. “What do you want?”
“Tequila,” said Taffy. “What’s wrong with your arm? You’re holding it funny.”
“Got a couple stitches,” mumbled Farrell.
The bartender poured her drink and put it on a coaster in front of her.
Farrell scanned the full tables hoping to see Kamps or one of his other snitches, but he didn’t recognize anyone. He finished his beer and as soon as Taffy downer her shot, he dropped her on her corner and went home.
His shoulder was killing him by the time he got back to the Agency, and he wished he’d stayed home. Nothing had been accomplished. He stuck his key in the lock and hoped to hell the dogs didn’t bark and wake Blacky up. He didn’t get that wish. Both dogs raised hell, happy to see him and he walked through the door to see Blacky standing in the foyer in his boxers glaring at him.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
Farrell held up a hand. “Okay. Don’t say it. I shouldn’t have gone out. My shoulder is killing me and I’m going straight to bed.”
“I was worried.” Blacky hooked a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the stairs. “Sleep in tomorrow morning and don’t forget to take your meds.”
West Lake Hills.
TRAVIS sat on a stool near the buffet and close enough to Annie’s table that he could see all the players. He had a beer and a plate of food and felt better than he had all day. All in all, the game was one of the quietest he’d ever seen.
Around ten thirty, a woman arrived. Tall, blonde and expensively dressed, Selecky introduced her as Kaitlin Carmody. “We don’t have an open seat for you right now, Miss Carmody. Why don’t you have a drink and enjoy the buffet while you wait?”
“Thank you, Mark, I’ll do that. I apologize for not calling ahead.”
She got a drink at the bar then plunked her shapely ass down next to Travis. “Hey there, are you waiting for a seat too?”
“Nope. I’m just watching for a while.”
“I enjoy playing poker. It’s a nice break from the hectic pace at my company.”
“Uh huh.” Travis wasn’t much for small talk or chitchat.
She smiled sweetly and took a sip of her fruity cocktail. “I run an oil company and its hard work.”
“Is it your own company?” asked Travis.
“How did you guess?”
I guess I don’t believe a word you’re saying.
Travis excused himself and stepped out the patio doors to have a smoke in the pool area. He pulled out his cell phone and called Jesse.
“Hey, Travis, I’m almost ready to call it a night.”
“Sorry, boss. I’m working, and I wanted to run something by you.”
“Where are you working this time of night? Is it one of Ace’s jobs?”
“Uh huh. We’re at a game.” Travis filled Jesse in on what was going on.
“Interesting. Maybe I’ll play tomorrow night and have some fun with y’all.”
“That would be great,” said Travis. “I know Annie would like it.”
“What did you want to ask me?”
“A woman came in late to play and her name is Kaitlin Carmody. She told me she owns an oil company and I wondered if you’d heard of her. You being a key player in the Oilmen’s Association, n’all.”
“Name doesn’t ring a bell. Ask her the name of the company if you can work it into the conversation and we’ll talk about it tomorrow.”
“Yep. I’ll do that, boss,” said Travis. “I’d better get back inside.”
ANNIE had won a couple of pots, but she hadn’t been hitting the flops. She’d been concentrating on getting to know the players, remembering their names and figuring out how each of them played.
Sam Crawford played tight and he never entered a hand unless he had high cards. She’d lost one pot to him already playing her favorite hand—jack, ten of clubs. Ortiz was a maniac. He played any two cards and called until he hit something. That worked a couple of times, but most of the players were on to him, and weren’t folding to his big bets any more. Ortiz would soon be cleaned out.
The dealer tossed out the cards and Annie peeked at hers. Kings. She usually lost with kings, but she threw in a decent raise when it came around to her.
All the players folded except Ortiz and Ken Roberts, the real estate dude. Roberts played like he was using his mortgage payment as his buy-in and he was easy to read. He was desperate to win and once he was pot committed, he played iffy hands all the way to the river.
The dealers Selecky hired for the weekend were pros. Annie didn’t know where they worked because there were no casinos in the area, but they might work at the downtown card clubs. Other than that, they had to be from out of state. The dealer at her table was named, Phil, and Phil was excellent.
The flop came. Ace, three, seven.
Kings are an ace magnet. Shit.
Annie felt like flinging her cards across the table, but she would never do that because she was Canadian, and her innate politeness ruled.
Ortiz, the wild man bet big when he saw the ace.
I can read you, Ortiz. You have a three.
Annie called, and Ken Roberts folded.
The turn card was a king of diamonds and Annie let out a little breath.
Ortiz bet again, and Annie didn’t raise her trips, she just called his bet.
Phil burned a card and turned up the river. Three of clubs.
Ortiz has trip threes.
Annie smiled as she watched hi
m shove all his chips in.
“Call,” she said and flipped up her kings for the boat.
Ortiz threw his cards and left the table.
“Nice hand, Annie,” said Sam Crawford.
“Thanks, Sam. Haven’t been hitting much tonight.”
ANNIE took a break after Ortiz left the table. She stepped outside for some fresh air with Travis and sat in one of the chairs by the pool while he smoked.
“I think the new woman will get the empty seat at your table,” said Travis. “Watch out for her. She seems to be a smooth liar.”
“I will, sugar. Are you getting tired?”
“Normally I wouldn’t be tired, but we had a rough day and I’m a little beat.”
“Let’s go home after I get a take on the new chick.”
“Yep. I could sleep.”
Kaitlin Carmody began chatting the moment she sat down at Annie’s table and there was no let up. Several of the male players seemed bothered by all the babbling, but they were too polite to make an issue of it.
“I believe, I’ll go home and get some sleep,” said Annie. “Perhaps I’ll see some of you gentlemen tomorrow evening.” She racked up her chips and Travis helped carry them to the cage at the end of the room.
“What did you think of the new woman?” he asked.
“She’s a fake, that’s for sure, but fake what?”
“Jesse said he never heard of her in the oil biz.”
“You called him?”
“From outside. He says he might play tomorrow night.”
Annie smiled. “Good. I’ll tell Selecky.”
Annie stopped by the table on the way out and whispered to Selecky. “Reserve two seats for tomorrow night. One for me and one for Jesse Quantrall.”
“Quantrall Oil?” Selecky smiled. He liked big money in his friendly little game.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Saturday, April 4th.
The Blackmore Agency. Austin.
BLAINE woke feeling anxious. His hand touched the cool sheets where Misty should have been sleeping beside him and he shivered. “Where are you, Mist? What’s happening?”
He sat on the side of the bed and checked the time. Seven. Okay, it’s Saturday. I don’t have to rush.
Footsteps in the upstairs hall meant Farrell was up. Blaine opened his bedroom door, let Lexi out and called to his brother. “You okay?”
“Nope, can’t sleep. Going down to start the coffee. I’ll let the dogs out.”
“I’m up,” Blaine mumbled to himself. “Who can sleep with all this shit going on?” He had a quick hot shower and got dressed.
In an hour I’ll call MP in New Orleans and get an update. They haven’t sent me a damn thing yet.
His cell was ringing on his belt by the time he reached the bottom of the stairs. “Lil, you’re up early.”
“Every day is the same, boss. Rick and I drove up to the Belton hospital last night to check on Acosta. He wasn’t in the ICU—not that serious, but he lost a lot of blood. As soon as he’s stable, the doctor said it might be today, they’ll ship him down to Saint Michael’s.”
“How did he look?”
“Not bad. He seemed a little out of it, but he was medicated. He doesn’t say much, so that was no different.”
“Okay, thanks for doing that, Lil. Did you give the Agency medical info to the hospital?”
“Yep, I filled out all the forms.”
“Fantastic. Thanks for doing that.”
“We need people, boss. Our guys are dropping like goddam flies. I’m working on it from home today, so we’ll have a decent lineup to pick from on Monday morning.”
“You’re the best, Lil. Have I given you a raise lately?”
“I don’t need a raise, boss. You pay me tons of money and I love my job.”
FARRELL sat slumped at the kitchen table, bare from the waist up. The bandage over his stitches just above his armpit was soaked in blood.
Blaine made a face and edged closer for a better look. “Did the stitches rip apart?”
“Don’t know. They pull every time I move my arm. I shouldn’t have been driving.”
“Damn right you shouldn’t, but it’s done, and we’ve got to fix it.” Blaine scrolled through contacts on his phone and pressed a number. “Dec, hope I didn’t wake you?”
“Nope, I was up, lad. What do you need?”
“Farrell’s bandage over his stitches is soaked in blood and I don’t want to remove it in case something is going on underneath.”
“Got it. Let me drive up there and check on him. Twenty minutes.”
“I’ll buy you breakfast when you get here.”
“Deal.”
Farrell shook his head. “You making Dec drive from the ranch for this?”
Carm had joined the party and was lamenting in Spanish over the amount of blood Farrell had shed.
“I called for help,” Blaine said in Spanish, “but I promised Declan breakfast.”
“Si.” Carm hustled back to the prep area and got started.
“Yes, I asked Dec to come because I don’t want you getting infection like I got. The pain from the infection was worse than the fuckin stabbing.”
“Wonder how Annie did at the poker game?” asked Farrell.
“She might be sleeping if she played late,” said Blaine. “I’ll call her in a while.”
The dogs began barking and both of them tore into the foyer. “Dec couldn’t be here already.” Blaine opened the door to Jesse.
“Hey, boss, glad to see you. Come on in and have some breakfast.”
“I wanted to catch up on a few things, but mostly I wanted to see Farrell for myself.”
Blaine pointed. “There he is, and don’t freak about the blood, I’ve called Dec and he’s on his way.”
Jesse shook his head. “We’ve had some hard luck lately with our crew.”
“Lil is working on interviews for Monday morning,” said Blaine, “so keep that time slot open.”
“Okay, yep. After I talked to Manuela Cadieux, I sent uniforms to Round Rock to verify her alibi for the night of Kevin Telfer’s murder and she and Chris were both drunk in a bar at the time of death.”
“That’s about the first piece of solid information we have,” said Blaine. “She’s not getting away with stabbing Pablo, but we can cross her off for the murder.”
Declan arrived amid more barking. He took one look at Farrell and said, “How much blood is on your sheets, son? You look pasty to me.”
“A bit, I guess.”
“Let’s go in the bathroom and clean this mess up.”
AFTER new bandages were in place, breakfast was over and with a little encouragement from Declan and Blaine, Farrell went to the ranch for the remainder of the weekend. Blaine said he’d come for dinner the following evening and pick him up.
With Farrell gone and the house quiet, except for Carm rattling dishes as she loaded the dishwasher, Blaine sat with his yellow pad and made a list of everything in Kevin Telfer’s murder that didn’t make any sense.
Why were these vendors so on edge, they’d stab cops at the drop of a hat?
He re-read the report of the Round Rock officers that did the notification. Kevin Telfer was born in Round Rock, grew up there and still lived in the same house. He lived with his widowed father and worked for the city. Never even had a traffic ticket.
Why in hell would somebody kill a guy like that?
“Should I send Jesse to talk to the father?” Blaine was pondering the notion out loud when the black cat came on the screen of his cell.
“Shit, I should have called her.” He pressed talk and tried to be more polite than he felt. “Hey, Cat, how are you doing?”
“I’m sure you’re busy because you’re always busy, sweetie, but I could offer you a beer if you could spare me an hour’s visit.”
“Umm… I’m struggling with something, but okay. Give me another hour on it and I’ll drive over. Anything you need?”
“Nope, I think I just ne
ed to see you.”
Blaine pressed end, let out a sigh and tried to regain his concentration on the murder investigation. The fates were against him. Another woman calling. “Miss Tudwell, how are things going at the house? Do you have a question?”
“Not a question, Mr. Blackmore. The workmen have been hearing noises in the house and they think it’s haunted. They don’t want to go back on Monday.”
“It wasn’t haunted when I was there, Miss Tudwell, and I don’t believe in ghosts. Send me your invoice and consider yourself finished.” He pressed end and shook his head. “Has everybody gone fuckin nuts? They can’t work in an old house because it has creaks and groans. This house is exactly the same.”
While he was on a rant he called New Orleans PD and asked for Detective Percival in Missing Persons.
“Ranger Blackmore, I just finished sending you an email.”
“Great, thanks. I’m not on my laptop, but I’ll look at it in a minute. I trust you haven’t found Misty, or you would’ve called?”
“Of course, did you have another question?”
“A suggestion. I searched her house thoroughly, but I couldn’t get the door to the attic open when I was there. I’ve since had the lock changed and wondered if you could send somebody to search the attic. It would make me feel better to know nothing was overlooked.”
“Absolutely, I’ll see that we do that this afternoon.”
“Thanks.”
Governor Campbell’s Personal Residence. West Austin.
GOVERNOR CAMPBELL appeared comfortable on the sofa in her living room when Blaine arrived. A couple of pillows behind her back and a blanket covering her legs, she smiled when he walked into the room with Vivian, her housekeeper.
“Would you like a tray, Catherine? You haven’t eaten anything since breakfast.”
Blaine nodded, “I’d like coffee and whatever you’re making, Vivian. I’m sure Cat would eat a sandwich too, if you’re making me one.” He winked at her.
