Splitting Aces

by Carolina Mac

  “I hate these fucking cases where you have to wait for the asshole to strike again before you get anything to work with. Drives me around the bend.”

  “Did you get me the murder book on the first female victim in Zilker Park?” asked Blaine.

  “Uh huh. I signed it out and it’s in my car. Hope you or Jesse find something Nielsen or I missed, and I mean that. We need a place to start.”

  The three of them walked the block back to the police station and were about to turn the corner and head for the parking lot when Blaine stopped. He turned, looked behind him and scanned the buildings on the other side of the street.

  Nothing. Nobody on the street. Not even Sunday window shoppers.

  What the hell is wrong with me? I’ve never been edgy.

  He shrugged it off and caught up to the other two.

  Lopez retrieved the binder from the back seat of his unmarked and handed it to Blaine. “No rush, but they keep a tight rein on the books.”

  “I won’t need it more than today,” said Blaine. “I’ll bring it back tomorrow.”

  “Thanks for the coffee.” Lopez gave them a wave.

  Blaine and Enright returned to the sidewalk and chatted for a moment in front of the precinct. “Where did you park?” he asked Enright.

  “In the ramp across the road.”

  “Yeah, I did too. The police lot is usually jammed. I didn’t bother looking for a spot.”

  They crossed the road, passed the attendant sitting in his booth eating a Hershey bar and playing a game on his phone and headed for the elevator.

  Blaine pushed ‘four’ and asked Enright, “What level?”

  “Four’s good. I think that’s the level I’m on. The ramp is almost empty on the weekend.”

  The elevator doors opened, and they stepped out. Blaine was a little ahead of Enright carrying the murder book. A slip of paper fluttered out of the book and landed on the concrete at his feet. Blaine bent down to pick it up.

  Bang.

  Enright crumpled beside him and Blaine reacted. He grabbed the Beretta from his waistband and cracked off three shots in rapid succession at the flashpoint. He watched, waited, listened. Nothing. No sound of the sniper running. He was already gone.

  Blaine stared down at the hole in Enright’s forehead and knew an ambulance would do him no good. Trying to hold down his last cup of coffee, he scrolled to Lopez’s number and pushed ‘call’.

  “Blacky?”

  “Across the road. A sniper just tried for me and killed Enright.”

  Blaine backed away from Enright’s body to watch the elevator doors in case someone arrived at that level before the police. He lit up a smoke while he waited and called Farrell.

  “Need you downtown, bro. Parking ramp across from Austin PD—level four. Some asshole just capped Enright.”

  “Fuck,” hollered Farrell. “No fuckin way.”

  “Are the dogs still with you?”

  “Both stretched out on my bed.”

  “Bring them.”

  “Be there in twenty.”

  ANNIE STOPPED FARRELL in the kitchen as he headed for the door. “You taking the dogs back to Jesse?”

  “Nope. Blacky needs us downtown. Somebody just shot Enright.”

  “Enright, your new guy?”

  “Uh huh. Got to go, Mom. I’ll call you.”

  “Why would somebody shoot Enright?”

  “Don’t know, Mom.” Farrell kissed her cheek and flew out the door with both bloodhounds on his heels.

  Jackson came running down the hall. “Where’s Daddy? He said we were going fishing today.”

  “Haven’t seen him for a couple of hours, honey. He was here for breakfast. Probably in the garage fiddling with the bikes.”

  Jackson stood on his stool and peered out the kitchen window. “Nope, there he is, Mommy, coming through the gate. I better get my jacket.”

  Wonder where Race went?

  JESSE FINISHED HIS second successful diaper change of the morning and Charity dozed off to sleep in her little chair. “We need some proper equipment for her, Ty, like a bed and a stroller. We should go shopping.”

  Tyler grinned. “That would be a hoot. We need car seats too, in both our trucks. Let’s do it.”

  Jesse’s phone jangled on his belt and he grabbed at it before it woke the baby. “Yeah, Blacky.”

  “A sniper just took out Enright. Think they were aiming at me.”

  “Fuck,” hollered Jesse. “Where are you?”

  “Ramp opposite the downtown PD.”

  “I’m coming. Wait for me.”

  “What?” said Tyler.

  “Somebody tried to take out Blacky and they killed Enright.”

  “Jesus,” said Tyler. “Go, I’ll take Miss Muffet to Paul’s house.”

  “Are you sure you’re okay with her?”

  “I practiced with Brian. I’ll take one bottle and come back if I need another one.”

  Jesse cast a longing look at his baby. “I don’t know if I can leave her.”

  “You can’t take her to a crime scene. I won’t let you. Go.”

  BLAINE LEANED on the railing and watched the medical examiner and his assistant place Enright’s body in the black bag. The sound of the zipper closing on a life shot lasers of anger though him.

  If you did this, Ogilvie, you’re a dead man.

  “You okay, Blacky?” asked Lopez. “Looking a little pale, kid, even for one of us Latinos.” He chuckled.

  “Shouldn’t have happened,” he mumbled.

  “Any thoughts?”

  “A couple.”

  “Put it together and clue me in when you’re ready.”

  Blaine nodded. The elevator dinged, and Farrell stepped out with the dogs. “Hey, boss. You okay?”

  Red and Bluebellee ran to Blaine and whined. He knelt on the concrete and hugged them. “You find me something, doggies. Something to nail him with.”

  Farrell raised an eyebrow. “Who do you think it was, bro?”

  “Had to be Race,” Blaine whispered so no one heard him but Farrell.

  Farrell stood behind the blood-soaked spot on the concrete and did a one-eighty. “Where was he standing?”

  “I returned fire at the flashpoint. I’ll show you.” Blaine strode through the parked vehicles to the far side of the ramp and pointed. “Had to be about here. Must be some brass around. He had a rifle with a scope—no two ways about it.”

  “One of Mom’s?”

  “Had to be, unless the fucker bought his own.”

  Farrell turned. “Call Mom right now and get her to check the gun cabinet before he has a chance to put it back.”

  “Umm… I haven’t talked to her since…”

  Farrell was already on his cell. “Yeah, Mom. Do something for me, will you? Go look in the gun cabinet and see if one of the rifles is missing.” He patted the dogs while he waited for her to come back. “No. All there. Okay thanks. I’ll explain later. Bye.”

  “See what the dogs come up with,” said Blaine.

  I feel like puking. A man is dead because of me.

  “What the hell is going on, Lopez?” A deep voice boomed from the other side of the parking ramp.

  “Jesse is here,” said Blaine. “I’ll be back.” He zig-zagged between the rows of cars and met Jesse half way.

  “You okay, Blacky? Get a look at who it was?”

  “Nope. Totally blind-sided. Never saw a thing.”

  “Return fire?”

  Blaine nodded. “Farrell is over there with the dogs looking for brass. The shooter could have picked it up. One shot.”

  “Maybe he didn’t wait around,” said Jesse. “One shot and gone.” He leaned on the closest sedan. “Does Annie know?”

  “Nope,” said Blaine, “She doesn’t need to know. Not yet.”

  “You not talking to her… much?”

  “Not right now,” said Blaine. “I’m still living with Mrs. Flores.”

  “Good thing Mrs. Flores has you to lean on, Blac
ky.”

  “Yeah, I guess.” He butted out his smoke. “Let’s get the statement done and get outta here. I could use a beer.” He called over his shoulder to Farrell, “Go home when y’all are done, bro, and say nothing. You’re my eyes at the ranch.”

  “Got it,” said Farrell.

  JESSE AND BLAINE stepped out of the elevator at street level and Blaine’s cell rang. “Blackmore,” he answered.

  “This is Guy Partout. Hope I’m not bothering you on a Sunday.”

  “No, it’s fine, sir. How can I help you?”

  “Could we talk for a few minutes. I might have remembered something.”

  “Sure thing. Are you at home now?”

  “Yes, are you in Austin?”

  “I’m downtown, but I could be at your place in a few minutes.” Blaine ended the call and turned to Jesse. “Let’s go, Jesse. Last night’s victim, Eve Partout—her husband remembered something.”

  “Yep, I’m in. Ty’s watching Charity and I already checked in twice.”

  Blaine grinned. “I’m not used to that yet.”

  Jesse chuckled. “Me neither.”

  GUY PARTOUT sat on his back deck without a shirt, even though the temperature was in the mid-fifties. A muscular man. Bricklaying must be hard work. He pointed to the chairs on either side of him and then to the cooler. “Lone Star?”

  “Sure thing,” said Jesse, “thanks.”

  “This is Ranger Jesse Quantrall, my partner,” said Blaine.

  Jesse offered a hand to Partout.

  “I Googled you guys and you’re the elite. How did I rate?”

  “The Governor takes care of his own,” said Blaine.

  “Oh, Evey. Now I get it.” Speaking his wife’s name brought tears to his dark eyes.

  “We weren’t able to find your dog, sir, but don’t give up hope.”

  “Crockett’s all I have left. The house seems so empty.”

  Blaine drank down half his beer and prompted Partout. “You said on the phone you remembered something?”

  “Yep, I’ve been going over the last couple of weeks in my brain, you know… trying to think of anything or anybody that didn’t fit—like Detective Lopez told me to do. Waste of time if it was random, but if it wasn’t…” he trailed off and got another beer out of the cooler.

  “If it wasn’t,” said Blaine, “then you are on the right track—it was somebody that knew her or was watching her.”

  “About a week ago,” he ran his hand through his black hair then shook his head, “no it was longer than that. The week before last, after Evey came back from the park. We had a drink before bed and she mentioned talking to a guy in the park that had Crockett’s twin.”

  “Another Chesapeake Bay?” asked Blaine.

  “She said twins.”

  “Any description of the man with the dog?” asked Jesse.

  “Not much. All she said was he was friendly, and the dogs liked each other. They didn’t growl. The person pointed at Crockett’s bandana and said his dog preferred yellow.”

  Blaine rolled his eyes. “Yellow? His dog had a yellow bandana?”

  Partout shrugged. “I guess so.”

  Mr. Partout hadn’t seen his wife with the yellow bandana tied around her throat.

  “Any hints about the guy’s appearance?” asked Jesse.

  “Not that I can recall. Maybe I’ll think of something later. Is it okay to call you again?”

  “Sure is,” said Blaine, giving him another card. “This is helpful. Appreciate it.”

  “Take care, sir,” said Jesse as they left.

  BLAINE FOLLOWED JESSE out of the city and all the way to the Quantrall ranch north of Giddings. Complications had turned the afternoon to evening by the time they arrived for dinner.

  “Sorry we’re late,” said Jesse as they hurried into the dining room. “Y’all could have started without us.”

  “No need,” said Brian. “Y’all are here now.”

  “Did Charity behave while I was gone?” asked Jesse. The baby sat in her little chair beside Tyler, brown eyes watching him.

  Wendy beamed from the other side of the table where she sat next to Shannon in her high chair. “Sure did. She slept most of the time.”

  Blaine looked down and smiled at her. “She’s so… small, Jesse, but I have to say she does look like you.”

  “She behaved,” said Ty. “Good as gold. She likes to eat and sleep—kind of like me.”

  Bobby chuckled. “She’s on the Tyler wave length.”

  “Ty and I were going shopping for her, but that didn’t happen,” said Jesse. “Tomorrow for sure.”

  “I made a list for y’all,” said Wendy, “and I brought over a few things Shannon has outgrown.”

  “The Quantrall clan is growing,” said Blaine.

  After dinner, Jesse and Blaine took coffee into the study and went over the murder book page by page. Procedure had been followed. All the interviews were included, and the detectives had turned up nothing.

  Blonde-haired victim on her bike, left in a slightly different spot. Raped. Strangled with a pink bandana. She had been riding with her dog on a leash—Black Labrador Retriever. The dog was never found.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Monday, December 4th.

  FARRELL HEADED out to work early. Blacky was in trouble. Somebody was after him and no way he would want Farrell hovering over him, but he intended to do it anyway. He’d take care of his brother. Not his brother by blood, like Neil, but his brother in every other way.

  Race’s Ford pickup was parked next to Farrell’s red Silverado. Farrell grabbed a tag from the kit in his glovebox, leaned down between the two vehicles and bingo—Race wouldn’t go anywhere without leaving a trail.

  Wonder if there’s a rifle under the back seat? I’ll get Race’s keys tonight and check.

  BLAINE BACKED out the driveway of the old Victorian at the same time the fencing crew arrived. He parked, jumped out and spoke to the foreman. “If you have any problems, don’t bother Mrs. Flores. Call me on my cell.”

  “There won’t be any problems. We have the work order and the job is cut and dried.” The foreman shook his head. “This ain’t the Great Wall—it’s just a fence.”

  Blaine nodded. “Just say’n, in case.” He gave the guy his card and left.

  COFFEE WAS READY when Blaine arrived at the office. Lily sat behind her desk looking as gorgeous as ever. Short blonde hair, perfect makeup and impeccably dressed.

  “Morning, Lil. Have a good weekend?”

  She smiled. “It was okay, boss. I live a quiet life.”

  “Yeah, me too,” said Blaine, “more like no life.”

  Lily giggled. “I know what you mean.”

  “We’re on a new case. Did you hear about the murder in Zilker Park?”

  “I saw it on the news. Is that us?”

  “It is. We don’t have much so far, but I need you to make a list of young males owning Chesapeake Bay Retrievers.” Get the names from the city.” He walked over to the sideboard, poured a coffee and added cream. “Start with addresses close to LBL and radiate out. If the guy is on foot, he’s within walking distance. If he drove there, parked and then walked his dog—we’re fucked.”

  Lily smiled. “Got it. Is that all we have? The dog?”

  “The guy has a thing for bandanas. He strangled one woman with pink and the second with yellow.”

  “Weird,” said Lily. “I’ll get right on the dogs, but what if the dog doesn’t have a tag?”

  Blaine shrugged. “Then he won’t be on the list and we’re fucked again.”

  “Hope he’s got a tag.”

  Blaine stood in front of her desk. “Also, something else happened yesterday that you don’t want to hear.”

  Lily glanced up from her screen. “Sounds ominous.”

  “Enright…”

  Lily sucked in a breath and that was all the confirmation Blaine needed. Lily did have a thing for Enright.

  “What about him?”

&n
bsp; “A sniper tried for me, Lil. He missed and killed Enright.”

  “No.” A little mewling sound escaped from her perfect lips. She grabbed for a tissue and dabbed at her perfect mascara. “I liked him.”

  Blaine took her hand. “I thought so. It should have been me.”

  She shook her blonde head. “No, it shouldn’t. I wouldn’t want it to be you, either. Who was it? Did you catch him?”

  “Don’t know. Not a clue.”

  “What if he tries again?”

  “I’m on alert now and so is Farrell. He’ll be covering me like a blanket thinking I won’t notice.”

  “I want him to be,” said Lily.

  “Anyway, try to find out if Enright had family we should notify. That’s job two.”

  “What’s three?”

  “Baby shopping.”

  Lily’s blue eyes widened. “Baby shopping? Who had a baby?”

  “Jesse.”

  “Mr. Quantrall has a baby?”

  “Long story, but yeah. Baby girl, Charity. Six weeks old.”

  “And the mother?”

  “Died in an accident.”

  Lily stood up and crossed the room. “I think I need another coffee.”

  “Put a shot of bourbon in it. You need it.”

  Lily screwed up her face. “Talk about Monday morning.”

  The intercom beeped on Blaine’s desk and he strode over. “Yes, Chantal?”

  “Governor Richardson is here for you, sir.”

  “Be right out.” He pointed at Lily, “This is gonna be a day.”

  Blaine returned to the corner office with the Governor in tow, and right behind him were Travis and Farrell reporting for work.

  “Okay,” said Blaine, “y’all get coffee and a pastry and we’ll have a little meeting and bring everybody up to speed.” He waved across the vast office to Lily. “You too, Lil.”

  Governor Richardson had been in office for several years, but he was weathering the stress and strain well. His dark hair had become a little grayer, but he walked tall and wore his designer suits handsomely. Today’s choice was a silver offering from Brooks Brothers, paired with a crisp white shirt and red tie.

  He settled in the leather wing chair and glared at Blaine. “You, young fella, owe me an explanation. I had to find out from the Chief of police that somebody shot at you yesterday and killed one of our team members. Nothing I hate worse than being blindsided like that.” He was a little red in the face. “Nothing.”