Cat

by Carolina Mac

  “Who were they?” Cat cast a skeptical glace at Misty.

  Misty turned to look at Blaine. “Remember when I drew a picture with a lady?”

  “Yes, Ken Kingsley’s picture. Celia Winthrop, the sketch artist. I’ll call Austin PD and have Lopez set something up for you as soon as possible.”

  “She drew a picture?” asked Cat.

  “She saw the person in her mind and worked with the sketch artist. That’s how we identified Ken Kingsley, the Zilker Park killer.”

  “I’m not getting any of this,” said Cat.

  Blaine smiled. “It’s a place to start where we had nothing before. We’ll have a suspect when the sketch is done and now we have Barton Creek.

  “Huge area to search,” said Gene.

  “I have dogs,” said Blaine. He pulled out his cell and called Jesse.

  Quantrall Ranch. Giddings.

  JESSE was resting on his bed while Charity had her nap in the next room. Upset that Annie was working, he tried to calm his heart rate and relax. His cell rang on the dresser and he sat up to reach it. “Hey, Blacky.”

  “Misty did well at Bromwell’s. The money is somewhere in Barton Creek Wilderness and I need the dogs. She also got a glimpse of someone and if you’re up to it, I’d like you to take her to Austin Homicide while she works with Celia Winthrop.”

  “So, there is money missing,” said Jesse. “At least we have a motive now. Give me a half hour and I’ll bring the dogs and pick Misty up at Bromwell’s.”

  “Great, I’ll round up Travis and Farrell to work the dogs.”

  “Get a couple of things Bromwell had already worn from his laundry hamper,” said Jesse.

  “Good thought. I’ll go do that now, before I forget.”

  BLAINE ended the call to Jesse, called Travis and Farrell, then explained to Cat and Misty what was happening.

  “Will Jesse wait for me at the police station?” asked Misty.

  “He’ll wait for you, sweetheart, and after we work the dogs, I’ll meet you at home and take you to Tulley’s for crab cakes and wine.” He gave Misty a hug, then he winked at Cat. “You too.”

  Cat smiled. “Wine, crab cakes and good company, what could be better?”

  Riverwalk Hotel. San Antonio.

  ANNIE had a nap in the hotel suite after a delicious lunch with Jack in one of the pubs on the Riverwalk. While she laid down, Jack drove to check on the two surveillance teams Farrell had sent to San Antonio. Bikers partied late at night, and she didn’t want to be exhausted for her date. She was almost asleep when Farrell called.

  “Hey, Mom. I hate it when you’re working.” He chuckled. “Just called to tell you how fuckin much I hate it. Please be safe.”

  “Jack’s here with me. Don’t worry.”

  “When you’re out of my sight, that’s all I do.”

  “I love you, baby.”

  “I love you too, Mom. And another thing, Jesse called me, looking for you. He hates it when you’re working too, even though he doesn’t say much.”

  “Tell him I’m fine when you see him.”

  “Relieve his stress, Mom. Call him.”

  “I will. Thanks, sugar pop.”

  Annie put the phone back on the night stand and before she could close her eyes she had a message. Dougie.

  “Friend is having a party tonight. Would you go with me after Cowboys?”

  “Can you dance?”

  “A little.”

  “One point for you.”

  Barton Creek Wilderness. West Austin.

  BLAINE started the dogs at the parking lot off route three sixty figuring it was the closest to Bromwell’s residence, if he’d been coming from home in a hurry to hide the money.

  Travis had Bluebelle’s leash and Farrell had Red. Each dog was used to their own handler and they worked better when they were relaxed and in their comfort zones.

  If this was a stolen money thing, would the thugs have Bromwell’s house under surveillance after he was dead?

  “Maybe,” Blaine said to himself. “Didn’t notice anybody, and Gene didn’t say anything.” He pulled a rifle out of the new gun safe in the back of his truck and made sure it was loaded. “Better watch my boys and my dogs.”

  He followed behind as the dogs took off towards the ravine. Misty had been with Blaine when they’d come to a crime scene during the Kingsley case and she’d remembered the ravine where a body was found.

  At the top of the hill before the drop off into the ravine was a forested area. Heavily treed with a lot of scrub bushes. Red tore into that area with Farrell running at top speed behind him. Red gave a howl and laid on the ground.

  “Okay,” said Farrell, out of breath. “Give me a minute and I’ll go back for a fuckin shovel.”

  Blaine sat down on a log and stroked Red’s big head. “See if any vehicles were following us. I have a feeling.”

  “Shit, they want us to find the money?”

  Blaine shrugged. “Make it easier for them, wouldn’t it?”

  “Sure would. I’ll be careful.”

  Travis returned with Bluebelle and waited with Blaine.

  FARRELL jogged back to the parking lot next to the road to get the shovel out of the back of Blaine’s truck, and he saw them slowing down. Black Escalade with tinted windows. He pulled his shotgun out of the backseat of the truck, thinking if there were more than two, a shotgun would be better. He might not have time to line up rifle shots.

  And he thought right. The vehicle parked, three of them hopped out and pointed automatic weapons at him. “Thanks for finding the money for us.” The big fat, bald one laughed as he pointed at the shovel. He raised the Blackout and Farrell shot him in the face. Then the one next to him, then the third one before they had a chance to shoot him first.

  Bang. Bang. Bang.

  He called it in and took the shovel to Blacky.

  “Did I hear shots?” asked Blaine when Farrell handed him the shovel.

  “Yeah, three dead in the parking lot. I’ll dig if you want to handle it, bro. Here’s my Winchester.”

  “Right,” said Blaine. “There’s an army out there looking for the money. We must be digging up a lot of cash.”

  BY THE TIME Blaine ran back to the parking lot, at least half a mile, he figured, First Response was there with an ambulance. No work for the paramedics this time. Three dead thugs with Blackouts in their paws.

  Hope these assholes have sheets and I can see who they work for.

  He called Chief Calhoun at home and brought him up to date on the day’s events.

  “You’ve been busy on your day off.”

  “As if,” said Blaine, “Can’t remember ever having one of those.”

  “Don’t want you to burn out, son. You need down time, like everybody else.”

  “Sending these three to the morgue. Misty is working with the sketch artist at Austin Homicide. Her picture may or may not be one of these guys. Wait and see.”

  “Wonder how much money Bromwell stole?” asked the Chief.

  “Boys are digging it up now. Doesn’t mean this was the only stash.”

  “No, it doesn’t, son. Good work.”

  Once the ME on weekend duty took charge of the corpses, Blaine jogged back to the woods to see how the digging was coming along.

  The boys had pulled up a heavy duffel and were brushing off the dirt when Blaine arrived. He undid the zipper enough to peek inside. “Yep, bundles of Ben Franklins. Good job, guys. Let’s drop that off to the lab and we can get cleaned up and go to dinner.”

  The Blackmore Agency. Austin.

  BLAINE sent Farrell and Travis to the lab with the money while he went home to check on Misty. She’d had a rough afternoon. Jesse was waiting for the dogs at the house and drinking a beer in the kitchen with Carm.

  “Hey, how did the dogs make out?” asked Jesse.

  “Ask them,” said Blaine as they bayed and ran straight for Jesse. He hugged them and searched his pockets for biscuits.

  Blaine chuck
led. “They were fantastic. Red never misses. Found the duffel and the boys are delivering it to the lab. Don’t know how much was in there but it was pretty full.”

  “Solid motive,” said Jesse, “Now we need the doer.”

  “Misty might have something. Where is she?”

  “Upstairs, I think,” said Jesse. “She seemed tired.”

  “I said I’d take her to Tulley’s,” said Blaine. “Why don’t you come with us. Cat’s coming and the boys. We’ll all go.”

  “Okay, I could come along if it’s not date night or anything.”

  “No, I invited Cat too. She’s been down.”

  “Maybe you should make a reservation,” said Jesse. “It’s Saturday night.”

  Blaine made the call, then tried Cat. “Tulley’s at eight. Do you feel like it?”

  “I don’t want to be the third wheel on your date,” she said.

  “That’s what Jesse said, but no, we’re all going.”

  “Jesse too?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay, I’ll get ready.”

  Blaine jogged up the stairs to check on Misty and she was propped up on the bed reading. “You okay?”

  “Fine. Did you find the money?”

  “Yes, Red found it. Thank you. Without you we never would have found it.”

  She pointed to the dresser. “I brought a copy of the sketch home for you.”

  “Great. I was going to ask you about that.” Blaine picked it up and held it up to the light. A large black man with a shaved head and a jowly face. Didn’t ring any bells. “Are they trying to match it at headquarters?”

  Misty nodded. “Lieutenant Lopez said he’d call if we matched anybody that the system knows.”

  Blaine smiled. “Fantastic.”

  Cowboys Bar. San Antonio.

  BEFORE ANNIE left the hotel to meet Dougie the Dog at Cowboys, Jack gave detailed instructions on how to plant the tag if she happened to get to Paul Langois’ residence.

  “Okay, I think I’ve got it. I’ll do it if I get a chance.”

  “You look fantastic.” Jacks smiled at her. “I hope you know that.”

  Annie giggled. “You don’t look half bad yourself. Watch out for those bull-riding cowgirls. Those babes will be all over your bones.”

  “Maybe I’ll chat a couple up, so I don’t look like an asshole sitting at a table alone.”

  “Do that. You’ll blend in better if you look like you’re on the make.”

  Jack snorted.

  Annie parked her bike at five after nine and lined up to go inside. Saturday night maybe wasn’t the best night to get a table. She’d picked this place because she’d been here before dancing with Ray and knew how busy it was. Busy was better for a first date with a violent biker.

  Once inside, she grabbed a beer from one of the ice-filled horse troughs, paid the cowgirl in the scanty outfit, and looked for a table. Most of the little round ones on the dance floor seemed to be taken. She’d have to go upstairs. No rodeo tonight, but a couple of good country bands according to the posters out front.

  Once she climbed the stairs and her eyes grew accustomed to the dim light, she glanced around the tables looking for Dougie. An arm waved to her on the other side of the room. He had a table that looked down on the dance floor.

  “Hey, I thought maybe you changed your mind.”

  “I would have texted you,” she said. She sat down and shoved her purse with her Beretta inside under the table.

  Dougie had a pitcher and two glasses already on the table. Annie tipped up the Lone Star long neck she’d bought downstairs and finished it.

  “Noisy, isn’t it?” she asked. “I love it here.”

  “This your hangout?”

  “Maybe.”

  “What do you think about the party at my buddie’s house?”

  “Is it important?”

  “It is to him, I guess.”

  “A club thing?” she asked.

  Dougie shrugged. “Maybe.”

  “Let’s have some alone time first,” said Annie. “I’m not much of a party person.”

  Dougie waved an arm around. “This is a huge party place.”

  “I like to dance, and I like to hear the bands. I sing a bit.”

  “You do? That’s cool.”

  “Tell me about you, Dougie. What do you like to do?”

  He filled his glass from the pitcher and took a minute to think. “I don’t have a lot of spare time to do much of anything.”

  “TCB?”

  Dougie raised an eyebrow.

  “I saw your cut last night. I know you’re in a club.”

  Dougie smiled. “You’re an interesting girl, Portia.”

  “Now you’ve got the wary look on your face and you’re wondering if I’m a fuckin cop.”

  “Mind reader too.”

  “I’m not a cop. But I used to be married to a club.”

  Dougie let out a visible breath. He didn’t like cops. Normal. Most club members hated cops.

  “One I would recognize?”

  “Maybe. George Ross was my husband.”

  “Regulators.” Dougie nodded his head. “Canadian. Strong leader. Mr. Ross was nobody’s fool.”

  “You been married?” asked Annie.

  “Nope. Never found anybody I wanted to spend that much time with.”

  “Yeah, the date never ends.” Annie giggled and Dougie laughed too.

  The band started their first set and Annie stood up. “Let’s go downstairs and see how good you are.”

  “Fuck. I was afraid you’d make me do this.”

  “You want to touch me, don’t you?”

  “Jesus, do I ever.”

  Annie took his hand, then stopped, turned and kissed him gently. “Now’s your chance.”

  Standing on the edge of the dance floor, Annie got to see Dougie in the light. Upstairs she hadn’t been able to see what he was wearing or anything else about him it was so dark. But she could smell him. He smelled clean and he wore a nice cologne she didn’t recognize. In the light, she saw he had on tight black jeans and a plain black t-shirt under his leather jacket. A bit of ink showed on his neck, but she couldn’t make it out.

  “Can we wait for a slow one to start?”

  “Sure.” She leaned close and said, “You look good.”

  “I’m with the most beautiful cowgirl in this place. I don’t want to look too shabby.”

  The band slowed things down and Annie tugged him onto the polished floor. It was crowded so they didn’t have to cover too much ground. Dougie held her close and he felt good in her arms. He was big and solid and strong. She let her hand wander up the back of his neck into his hair and he let out a little groan.

  He leaned down and kissed her neck. “I don’t want this song to end.”

  “I love a romantic,” she whispered, then leaned up and kissed him.

  “Goddammit girl, I want you so bad right this minute I’m gonna come undone.”

  The song ended, the band picked up the tempo for a fast two-step and Annie led Dougie to an empty table. “We lucked out and got ourselves a table.”

  Dougie ordered more beer and while he was talking to the waitress a young cowboy came by the table and asked Annie to dance. She hopped off her stool and twirled onto the floor for a fast Allan Jackson tune. When she came back she was out of breath and laughing. “That was fun.”

  “I… was pissed that he asked you, but you’re a good dancer.”

  “This is a dance place, and people ask you even if you’re with somebody else. Doesn’t mean anything.”

  “Meant something to me, and I’m not used to caring too much about… stuff.”

  “I’ve spent a lot of time with bikers and most of them think women are for sex and other than that they’re in the fuckin way.”

  “I’m gonna make you a promise right now that I’ve never made before—never even thought of making before,” Dougie leaned across the little table, “If you give me a chance, I will never cheat o
n you and I will treat you good. All the time.”

  “That’s a good offer. I’ll hold you to that promise.” Annie finished her beer and stood up. “One more slow one?”

  Dougie grinned. “Okay, I’m not so nervous now.”

  They left Cowboys hand in hand. Annie hadn’t seen Jack in the last hour, but he was a pro and slick at his profession. He was watching her, she was confident of that.

  “Where’s your bike?” Dougie asked.

  “Down that way,” said Annie. “This parking area is huge.”

  Dougie glanced over his shoulder a couple of times as they walked towards her bike, and she squeezed his hand. “Do you have a tail?”

  He grinned. “I’m careful.”

  Annie reached into her purse, pulled out her Beretta and shoved it into her waistband. “I’ll watch your back.”

  “What?” Dougie’s face registered genuine surprise. “You carrying?”

  “Always.”

  She hopped on her bike and started it while Dougie ran back to where his was parked near the fence. He was almost there when she heard another Harley coming from the opposite direction. She squeezed the gas and had almost caught up to Dougie when the biker wearing a cut she thought she recognized, fired a shot at the Dog.

  The bullet missed but it was a close call. Dougie took off and Annie fired at the other biker. Her shot hit him, and the impact knocked him off his Harley. She squeezed the gas and followed Dougie.

  He pulled into a service center at the next intersection and waited for her. “Sorry about that. Some guys out there aren’t happy I changed clubs.”

  “I shot him,” said Annie.

  Dougie sat with his mouth open not saying a word. “Okay, then. Let’s get out of town.”

  Paul Langois’ Residence. San Antonio Suburb.

  THE NEW KING of the Rule was throwing a party and the place was rocking when they arrived. A long line of shiny bikes stood in the driveway and a few pickups were parked along the road. Annie had the tag in her purse if she got a chance to put it somewhere discreetly. If not, she’d do it another time. She wouldn’t risk getting caught.

  Dougie stood beside her bike waiting while she set her kickstand. “I don’t know what to say about you shooting that asshole at Cowboys.”