by Carolina Mac
“I apologize, sir. Time got away from me. Farrell brought the dogs to the scene, then Jesse and I went over the murder book of the first victim on the park killings. But you should have been my first call. I have no excuse other than the one. Being shot at skewed my focus.”
The Governor smiled. “It skews my focus too. I forgive you.”
Blaine let out the breath he was holding. “Thank you.”
After the whole case was recapped, the Governor left, and Lily went to the lunchroom to make fresh coffee.
“Lily is doing research on the dog angle this morning. I want you two in the park. Find a spot where you can park the unit and take shifts tonight, sitting on a bench with one of the dogs, or walking them—looking like a citizen. When you have your plan made, go home and get some sleep.”
“What are you doing, boss?” asked Farrell.
“I’ve got a few errands.”
“I’ll be with you,” said Farrell. “My partner can scope the park and set up for tonight.”
Travis nodded, and Blaine realized they had already talked it over.
Blaine grinned. “Honest, bro. I’m okay alone.”
“Fuck that,” said Farrell. “Enright wouldn’t agree.”
“Shit,” said Blaine, black eyes cast on the carpet. “You can’t imagine how bad I feel.”
“Oh, yeah, I can,” hollered Farrell. “The same way I’d feel if I let Race shoot you in the fuckin head.”
Lily returned with the coffee and Travis poured himself another cup. “You okay, Miss Lily? I saw you and Enright talking a few times, and I thought… doesn’t matter what I thought. If there’s anything I can do, don’t hesitate.”
Lily smiled. “That’s the most I ever heard you say, Travis. Thank you.”
Travis left for the park and Blaine called Lopez for an update. “How are the interviews coming, Detective?”
“Nothing so far from her workplace. Well liked. No issues. Nothing out of the ordinary. Most of the neighbors have been canvassed, a few more to come in, but not many.” Lopez sighed, “A lot like the first case, Blacky. A whole lot of nothing.”
“Maybe he picks them out in the park,” said Blaine, “Has no other contact with them.”
“If that’s the case, it’s ten times fuckin harder to zero in on him unless we had surveillance in the park, and that’s not in my budget.”
“It’s in mine. Travis is over there now looking for a spot.”
“Do you know how many fuckin acres that greenspace is?”
“Yep. Over three fifty.”
“Of course, you would know. I keep forgetting who I’m dealing with.” Lopez chuckled. “Have at it, Blacky.”
The intercom beeped on Blaine’s desk and the red light flashed. “Jesus Christ, who’s here now?” Blaine hollered.
“I’ve got it.” Lily bolted across the room and pressed the switch, “Yes, Chantal?”
“Mrs. Powell to see the boss.”
“It’s your mother,” Lily whispered.
“What did I tell you, Lily? This is gonna be a day from hell.”
Lily smiled. “I’ll go get her.”
Blaine blew out a big breath and headed for his private washroom. He needed a minute alone to psych himself up for the pending shitstorm. When he emerged, Annie, Lily and Farrell were chatting in the seating area by the windows.
He crossed the room and sat down opposite Annie. Filled with emotion and not able to find the words, he nodded in her direction.
She set her cup on the glass table in front of her and jumped in. “I want you to come home.”
“Umm… could we discuss this another day. I really don’t…”
Annie began sobbing. Farrell cuddled her, and Lily tore across the room in search of tissues. “Don’t cry, Mom. It will all work out.”
“Nothing ever works out,” she wailed. “I want my baby to come home.”
“I’m not a baby, Mom,” said Blaine. “And you know why I can’t come home right now.”
“Race is close to normal and he realizes how unhappy I am with you moving out. He wants you to come home too.”
Farrell rolled his eyes.
“Somehow, I find that hard to swallow,” said Blaine. “I don’t want you to be unhappy any more than Race does, but I can’t live in the same house as him.” Blaine shook the long black hair. “Can’t do it.”
“Jackson is missing you.”
“Don’t play the sympathy card, Mom. I took a stand and I can’t come back any more than Jesse can.”
The sobbing began again as soon as Jesse’s name was mentioned. “I feel so bad about Jesse.”
“Well, don’t. He’s got his hands full now and he barely has time to think about your ill-fated mini-marriage.”
Annie sat up straight and her eyes flashed. “Who’s he seeing?” she hissed out the words.
Blaine winked at Farrell and said, “Her name is Charity.”
“Charity who? Do I know her?”
“Nope. She’s new.”
“Don’t be jealous, Mom,” said Farrell. “You picked Race over Jesse and he has a right to a life.”
“Of course, he does, but I still love him.”
Blaine’s cell rang. “Yeah, okay. I’ll be there in ten.” He stood up and Annie took it as her cue.
“Okay, I’ll leave and let you work. Think about coming home, that’s all I’m asking, sweetheart.” She hugged Blaine and kissed his neck. “I love you.”
“Love you too, Mom,” said Blaine, “We’ll talk soon.”
Lily walked Annie out and Blaine picked up his keys. “Let’s go, Farrell. The hell continues. I’ve got fencing troubles.”
DRIVING DOWN East Cesar Chavez Farrell commented on all the restaurants. “I’d like to try them all, bro. Which ones have you been to?”
“Only a couple. I don’t eat out much. Mrs. Flores likes to cook and she’s good at it. Fantastic is more like it.”
“Think she’ll have something on the go about now?” Farrell checked the time on his phone. “It’s after twelve.”
“But she didn’t know I’d be home,” said Blaine. “I’ll check for you after we solve the problem.”
“What’s the problem? You didn’t share it with me.”
“One of the neighbors thinks she has to pay for part of the fence—something like that—and she told the men to stop working until it was straightened out.”
Two trucks were backed into the driveway, and Blaine parked behind them. He and Farrell hopped out and headed for the backyard.
The old chain link fence had been removed and loaded onto a truck for disposal. Holes had been augured, and a post sat on the lean in each of the holes. The crew were sitting on the back-porch steps eating out of their lunch buckets and chatting to each other in Spanish.
“Senor,” said the foreman, and proceeded to repeat the argument with the neighbor in Spanish, punctuated with descriptive hand gestures and a couple of kicks.
The woman next door kicked the fence or kicked him? I didn’t get all of it. My Spanish ain’t that good.
Blaine nodded to the foreman, then said to Farrell, “Let’s go next door and fix the problem, then I’ll see if I can scrounge us up some lunch.”
Farrell stood behind Blaine as he rang the bell of the old house next door. Even though all the houses on the street were showing their age, this one was well kept. A young woman in her late twenties opened the door a crack and said, “Who are you?”
Blaine could see part of a huge furry dog trying to push past her. “I’m Blaine Blackmore and I live next door. I believe you had a problem with my fencing crew this morning.”
“Uh huh. Sure did.” She stepped onto the porch and closed the door behind her. “Stay in, Hoo.” The girl was tall, blonde and blue-eyed. Extremely pretty but dressed in ragged jeans and a faded Willie Nelson concert shirt. Her curly hair was unbrushed and hung over half her face. “I thought there was some kind of an unwritten law about fences—like when your neighbor puts up a fen
ce between two properties you have to pay half whether you want to or not—that type of deal.”
She has a Louisiana accent.
“I’m paying for it,” said Blaine, “all of it. The permit is in my briefcase if you need to see it.”
“Yeah, but what will it look like when it’s finished?” She hooked a thumb over her shoulder. “Like from my side? What if I don’t like it?”
“Did you like the saggy and falling down chain link?”
She tilted her chin and her eyes narrowed. “Course not, but I was used to it. It was there when I bought the house and I wasn’t ready for a change.”
“I apologize for not informing you,” said Blaine. “You’re right. I should have come over and told you. If it will make you feel any better, I can show you a picture of the finished product. I have one in the house.”
“Is the lady next door your mother?”
“No.”
“Are you… like a biker or something?”
“Or something. I’m a cop.”
“Fuck me blind.” She doubled over laughing. “You sure as hell are not. Drag your tattooed ass next door and show me the picture.”
Blaine grinned. “Okay, I’ll be right back.”
Farrell stayed and chatted with the girl while Blaine ran next door. He opened the front door and shut off the alarm. In Spanish, he spoke to Mrs. Flores. “Keep the alarm on when I’m not here. We don’t trust anybody.”
She nodded then waved her arm towards the back yard and spoke quickly in Spanish. “The lady next door is mad at the fence man.”
“I know. I’m fixing it. Where’s that picture of the fences?”
She crossed the kitchen and pulled the brochure out of a drawer. Then she pointed at the oven. “Enchiladas.”
“Five minutes and I’ll eat. I have my brother with me.”
She smiled. “Bueno.”
Blaine ran back and showed the girl the colored brochure. He pointed to the fence design that was being installed.
She looked up at him with big blue eyes and said, “I like it. If it’s for free, I like it even more.”
“What’s your name?” asked Blaine. “I don’t know any of the neighbors.”
“Misty.”
“You live in this big house alone?” asked Blaine.
“Why? What’s your interest?” She crossed her arms over her ample chest and took a stance.
“Security.”
“Don’t try to come on to me using your cop bullshit. This girl ain’t buying.”
“Okay,” said Blaine. “Nice to meet you, Misty.”
Farrell checked the street, then walked beside Blaine across the lawn and around the back of the house. Blaine told the foreman the problem was solved and the men could go back to work.
“See any food when you were inside?” asked Farrell.
“Enchiladas in the oven. Let’s eat.”
RACE SAT ON the porch smoking and waiting for Annie to come back from her mission to beg Blaine to come home. He had tried to argue her out of going, but she had insisted, and he had a hard job saying ‘no’ to her. Always had.
He couldn’t let the kid come back, just when things were starting to go his way. Too bad he missed the day before. The kid had bent down just as he pulled the trigger and he shot the other guy. Didn’t matter. He hadn’t left anything behind. They’d never make anything stick. Just like always.
He watched her drive through the gate and park her truck in front of the garage in her regular spot. He stood up as she neared the porch, reached out and wrapped her in a hug. “Missed you, girl. Did you have a little chat with Blaine?”
She nodded, but he could tell by the sadness in her gray eyes that it hadn’t gone well. “He’ll come around, baby. Don’t you worry so much about him.”
“He’s my son, Race. I want him with me.”
“Kids grow up, girl. They grow up and move out on their own. You have to accept it.”
“I’m not ready.”
FARRELL DROVE HOME from Austin after seeing Blacky safe inside the Flores house. He had to sack out for a couple hours, pick up the dogs, make snacks for later and pick up Travis in the unit at nine-thirty for park surveillance.
He ate dinner with Annie and the cowboys, not too hungry after the amazing enchiladas Mrs. Flores made. He caught a long nap, got up and showered himself awake.
It was full dark at nine when he headed to the unit. The dark green camper perched on the back of a dark green Ford pickup belonged to Jesse. His pride and joy—all the latest surveillance equipment tricked out in the back. A dream machine.
Parked on the far side of Race’s truck, Farrell though he’d have a quick look for the rifle before he left to pick up Travis. He went back to the house, walked quietly across the foyer and stood at the kitchen door. Nobody in the kitchen. The key rack that everybody used was on the wall next to the door.
Race’s keys had a big pewter ‘R’ for a key ring. Something Annie had bought him. Farrell’s hand was touching the keys when Race stomped into the kitchen. “What you doing there, kid? You wouldn’t be touching my keys, would you?”
“Nope,” said Farrell. “Wouldn’t think of it.”
Race crossed the kitchen with his jaw set and grabbed Farrell by the neck of his jacket. “Just in case you were thinking of it, I’ll give you a little tuning up.” He pulled his tattooed arm back and drove it home. Farrell jerked out of Race’s grasp and ducked to the side. Race punched the wall with a loud holler and it was game on. Farrell doubled up his fist and smashed Race in the gut as hard as he could. Race grunted, bent forward and Farrell was ready. He gave him a knee to the face and knocked the big guy to the floor.
The noise alerted Annie and she ran to the kitchen yelling out a warning. “You boys better not be fighting in my kitchen.”
“Nope, we’re not, Mom,” hollered Farrell over his shoulder as he fled across the foyer. He flung the door open and didn’t notice the cat. He almost tripped as the big, black ball of fur ran between his legs and disappeared outside.
“You let my cat out, you rotten little fucker,” hollered Race. “I’ll kill you for that. See if I don’t.”
“Shut up, Race,” hollered Annie. “You’ll do no such thing.”
“Pye, where are you?” Race stood on the porch hollering for the runaway feline as Farrell started the unit, turned it around and headed for the gate.
TRAVIS DIRECTED Farrell to the spot he’d selected in Zilker Park. “We’re close to the last two spots the killer used and there’s a lot of cover in this area. No vehicles are allowed past the parking area, except for maintenance, but I got special permission. We’ll park out of the way in that copse of trees and nobody will even know we’re here.”
“This will be our headquarters,” said Farrell. “We’ll take turns sitting on benches with the dogs and watching what’s going on. The one inside will watch the tracker on Race’s truck in case he’s going after Blacky.”
Travis nodded. “Okay. Hour on and hour off, so nobody will think we’re stalkers or park perverts.”
“Yep.”
“Got your earwig on?” asked Travis.
Farrell clipped the red leash on Big Red and shoved a couple of biscuits in his pocket. “Yep. I’m ready. It’s five to ten. Be back at eleven.”
TRAVIS OPENED THE little fridge under the counter and grabbed himself a Coke. He set up the map and checked where Race was. Parked at Coulter-Ross. Maybe he was in for the night.
Since this morning, he’d been doing a lot of thinking about Miss Lily. She was one pretty lady and she was unattached. Damn shame, and he’d like to do something about it. Trouble was, she was a city girl and a little bit fancy for his taste.
Bluebelle whined at his feet and broke his train of thought. He leaned down and stroked her ears. “What’s up girl? You hear something?” He strode over, opened the door of the camper a crack and listened. Nothing. Not a sound outside. Not even a dog barking. “You just missing Red?” He sat down and watched
the tracker.
FARRELL SAT ON a wooden bench near a live oak and lit up a smoke. Red laid down on the grass close to him and stretched out. They hadn’t seen a single jogger or any dog walkers. Not yet. His phone signaled a text and he checked it. Blacky.
“You guys set up?”
“Yep. Nothing yet.”
“Let me know.”
At eleven, Farrell strolled back to the unit and changed off with Travis. “Don’t think anybody’s walking much tonight. Three people with dogs—little dogs. Mostly the fluffy ones. A couple of bikers, but they were male not female.”
“Never know,” said Travis, “he might change locations and we won’t see him at all.”
“Ain’t you the optimist,” said Farrell. “Did you save me a Coke?”
Travis took Bluebelle and left the unit for his shift. Farrell drank half his Coke while he checked the tracker. Hadn’t moved all night according to Travis. He stroked Red’s ears a couple of times, looked back at the screen and the red dot was moving.
“Race is moving,” he said into the earwig.
“Shit,” said Travis, “get a direction. If he’s coming into the city, one of us has to head to Mrs. Flores’ house.”
“Roger that, partner. I’ve got eyes on him.” Farrell watched as Race turned onto the highway and headed north towards Giddings. “Looks like he’s going to Boots.”
“Okay, good. Hope he stays there.”
“Maybe Mom is with him and we’re worrying for nothing.”
“Fuck, it ain’t nothing. Yesterday the maniac tried to kill Blacky. He’ll try again. Guaranteed. The man is a killer.”
“The day he ran you down, partner, is burned into my memory. We’ve got to take him out.”
“Roger that,” said Travis. “I’ve got company.”
TRAVIS STROLLED TOWARDS the guy walking the big black dog. He pulled Bluebelle closer to him and struck up a conversation. “Nice dog. What kind is he?”
