by Carolina Mac
“Bouvier,” said the man. “They can get a little testy.”
“Oh, yeah? That’s what I like about hounds. They’re never cross.”
Travis took stock of the guy. He couldn’t see him clearly, the streetlight was too far away to shed enough light, but he sensed the man was in his early forties. Tall and slim, he wore a Nike track suit with a jacket over top. His hood was pulled up against the cold. A December night near the lake was chilly.
The black dog whined. “Better keep going,” the guy said and continued down the path.
CHAPTER FIVE
Tuesday, December 5th.
ANNIE’S FACE was dark as a thundercloud at breakfast. Zero tolerance for fighting on the ranch. One of Annie’s rules and she strictly enforced it. With so many men living and working together, she had to maintain order. She glared first at Farrell and then at Race. After that she alternated her glares so neither one dared look up from his breakfast plate.
Farrell skipped his second cup of coffee, retreated to his room for his harness and jacket and plunked his cowboy hat on his head. “Now I’ve got to walk by that fucker without taking him out,” he mumbled to himself.
He strode down the hall, passed the harvest table without a glance and stepped out onto the porch.
Wham. Race flattened him against the wall of the house and held a blade to his throat. “You lost my cat you fuckin waste of space. If she don’t come back, you’re a dead man.”
Farrell kneed Race in the groin and felt the blade cut into his neck in the process. Race roared as he straightened up, knife in his hand poised for the kill. Farrell turned, head down and shoved his shoulder into Race’s chest. He heaved against the big biker as hard as he could and shoved him backwards. Race took a couple steps back trying to remain on his feet and crashed into Annie as she blasted out the door.
“Enough,” she hollered. “Farrell, go to work. Race, inside.”
“Bye, Mom,” hollered Farrell as he ran for his truck. His neck stung as he jumped into his truck. He turned the key and swiped the trickle of blood away with the back of his hand.
Hope she kills that bastard before I get home.
BLAINE SET the alarm at the front door of the Victorian before he left for the office. He’d reviewed the process with Mrs. Flores several times, but she kept forgetting the code, or she’d punch in the code and forget to press the set button. Her solution was to stay inside until he came home, and that was no good. He didn’t keep regular hours and depending on circumstances he could be gone for hours at a time. She enjoyed working in her garden, and walking to the farmer’s market to pick out fresh produce, but because of the security system she was a virtual prisoner.
He eased the big diesel out the driveway and headed for the corner. Before he made the turn, he noticed Misty standing at the bus stop. He lowered the window on the passenger side and gave her a shout out. “Hey, Misty, can I drop you somewhere?”
At first, she glared at him, then her face softened with a hint of recognition. She stepped close to the window. “Going downtown?”
He nodded. “Uh huh.”
“Okay, then, thanks.” She opened the door, raised her boot onto the sidestep and grunted as she slid into the seat. “Jeeze, biker man, did you need to make it so high?”
Blaine laughed. “Yeah, I did.”
“This your cop truck?”
“Yep.”
“Calling bullshit on the cop thing.” Without asking permission she lit up a smoke.
“Where do you work?”
“Don’t.”
“You don’t work at all?” asked Blaine.
“Why? Should I?”
“Don’t matter to me. I only asked so I’d know where to drop you off.”
“Anxious to get rid of me?” She looked across the console and winked at him.
“Nope. I kind of enjoy your company. Can’t put my finger on the reason.”
“Don’t need a reason. Mutual attraction is all about chemistry. It’s not a choice. It’s destiny. Like the Goddess stuck magnets in everybody, but they only work when they come close to the right opposite. Know what I’m saying?”
“Uh huh.” He nodded. “Goddess?”
Ignoring the question, she continued, “Guess what? I dreamed about you last night, and not in a polite way. What does that tell you?”
Blaine chuckled. “Was it about the fence?”
“No fences involved. Ruder than that.”
“How rude was it?”
“X-rated, if you know what I mean.”
She’s dreaming about me?
Blaine stomped on the brakes and stopped with a screech at a red light.
“You’re a terrible driver.”
He glanced across the truck to see if she was kidding. “You saying you’re better than me?”
“Anybody would be. But I don’t drive much. Don’t want to.”
“Your car is just a decoration?”
“Uh huh.”
“Okay,” said Blaine. “Any idea where you’re headed?”
“Just go wherever you’re going and I’ll walk from there.”
“Okay, if you’re sure.”
“Nothing is for sure. Life is a highway—so the song goes.”
“I forget who sang that one.”
“Tom Cochrane. Canadian rocker.”
“Uh huh.” Blaine pulled into the parking lot behind his building.
“You can’t park here,” she said. “This spot is for Mr. Blackmore-Powell and his name is on the front of the building.”
“I like to break the rules,” he said.
“Most gangers don’t have any rules.”
“I have a few.”
She turned her blonde head and stared at him across the console. “List them in order of importance, right now.”
He laughed. “I don’t have time. I have a meeting and I’m already late.”
“Who in hell would you be meeting in a fancy lawyer’s office?”
“You’d be surprised.”
“Surprise me then, biker-cop. I’m coming with you.”
Blaine shook his head. “No. Bad idea.” He jumped out, rounded the truck and helped her down from the high side-step.
“Do gangers have manners?” She accepted his hand and gave him a smile. “I hadn’t heard.”
“Maybe there’s a few things you haven’t heard about gangers.” He shoved the door closed, pushed Misty up against it and kissed her.
She kissed him back, arms around his neck, tongue in his mouth and heat emanating from her body into his. “Mmm… that was a pleasant surprise. I could use more of that.”
“Maybe later. Right now, I have to work.”
“Can I watch you work?” She dropped her voice and said “Please,” in a whisper. “I won’t make a sound. Promise.”
“Didn’t you come downtown for a reason?”
“I came downtown to look for a reason.”
She’s a little bit left of center, but I like her.
Blaine held the glass entrance door open and Misty walked in ahead of him. He hadn’t noticed what she was wearing until that moment and it made him smile. A long gauzy skirt in rainbow colors over tan leather boots, and on the top a white peasant blouse that showed a generous amount of cleavage. Her blonde hair hung in wild ringlets on her shoulders.
“Morning, boss,” said Chantal. She gave Misty the wide-eyed once-over. “The boys are waiting for you.”
“Thanks, Chantal. This is Misty.”
Chantal flashed her a smile and went back to work.
“This way,” said Blaine. “I’m at the end of the hall.”
“You are the boss,” she whispered.
“Books, covers,” he whispered back.
“I shouldn’t be here.”
“You’re here now. Have a coffee.” He opened the door to his suite and motioned her in. “Morning, Lily.” He eyed the flowers on her desk and gave her an inquiring look. She mouthed Travis and Blaine nodded.
“This is Misty, my neighbor. She needs a coffee before she goes shopping.” Blaine pointed to the sideboard and strode over himself, poured a cup and joined the boys in the conference area.
“Farrell, what happened to your neck?” Blood had dried around the gouge and the wound hadn’t been cleaned.
“Guess.”
“I’m charging him.”
“No point, boss. It would turn out like all the rest.”
Misty sat in one of the leather wing chairs and munched on a cherry Danish.
“Hey, Misty,” said Farrell.
She gave him a little wave and Travis raised an eyebrow.
“Let’s hear about last night,” said Blaine and the boys recapped the surveillance in the park.
“How much time passed between the first murder and the second?” asked Travis.
“I returned the book to Lopez, but I think it was more than two weeks, less than three,” said Blaine.
“We might be out there for a good while yet.”
“Yeah, you might be, but we can’t risk a guess. If he accelerates, and we wait one day too long, another woman is dead.”
Misty sat listening with her blue eyes wide.
JESSE AND TYLER were busy installing car seats in both their vehicles when Annie drove into Quantrall. She parked, walked over to where the boys were working and said, “You two look busy.”
Jesse struggled out of the backseat of his new Land Rover and gave her a hug. “Hi, sweetheart. Are you okay?”
“Not okay, Jesse, but it’s my own doing and we both know that.” She stared for a minute at the car seat. “Why are you installing a baby seat in your Rover?”
“It’s for my baby,” said Jesse. “Charity, my daughter.”
“What?” Annie lost color and leaned against the truck. Jesse thought she might faint.
“Come on in the house and meet her.”
“I’m not getting this, Jesse. Explain it to me.”
Tears burned behind his eyes as he choked out the story about Lacey being killed by one of the horses she was training.
“And she never told you she was pregnant?”
“When we broke up it wasn’t… friendly, and she never spoke to me afterward. If she had told me, don’t you think I would have made it right?”
“Of course, you would, Jesse. You are the most moral and honorable man I know.”
He opened the front door for her. “Molly is listening for her, but she’s asleep upstairs. We had some adjustments to make.”
Annie smiled. “I bet. A house full of bachelors would take some adjusting.”
“Upstairs, we made a baby nursery for her in the guest room next to my room. I’ll show you, but I haven’t moved her in there yet. For now, she’s in a little bed next to mine.”
Jesse opened the door to his room as silently as he could and pointed to the white basinet next to his king-sized bed.
Annie leaned down close and peered at the sleeping baby. When she looked at Jesse, her gray eyes were wet with tears. “She’s so adorable and she looks just like you.”
“Come next door and I’ll show you her room. Ty and I did it ourselves under Wendy’s watchful eye.”
One entire wall depicted nursery rhymes.
“You put the mural up yourselves?”
“Not on the first try.” Jesse chuckled. “We wrecked the first one—it comes in sections—rolled all of it up and threw it in the trash. Ty went back and bought another one.”
Annie smiled. “I can picture that happening.”
They had painted the room pale aqua with creamy yellow accents. “Wendy picked the paint. It’s special for babies. Do you like it?”
“Love it. I’m so proud of you, and so happy you have the baby. You seem… settled.”
“Taking better care of myself, Ace. I have to—twenty-one-year commitment looking at me with big brown eyes.”
RACE STOOD on the porch and watched Annie drive her truck through the gate and down the lane. She told him she was going to La Grange to work in the store, but something didn’t sit right with him and he thought she was lying. Something she’d never done—at least he’d never caught her at it.
He followed her down the county line as far as he dared without her seeing him, and had a clear picture of where she was headed. Quantrall. She went to see Jesse. What for? One last roll in the hay before the divorce was final? He’d have it out with her when she came home.
In the meantime, he had bigger fish to fry.
BLAINE FINISHED his second coffee and gave the boys their orders after the morning meeting.
“Farrell, I want you to drop Misty wherever she’s going, and then drive down to Smithville and see Brian at the clinic. I’ll phone ahead and tell him you’re coming. I don’t like the looks of that gash in your neck.”
“Yep, okay.” He touched it with a finger. “It stings a bit.”
“A bit? It needs stitches.”
“Travis, start on the list of dog owners that Lily has ready. She can go with you and take notes while Farrell is at the doctor.”
Travis nodded and smiled at Lily.
“What will you be doing, boss?” The question Farrell asked every morning without fail.
“I’ll be at the morgue at Enright’s autopsy if you need me. I should be finished by one, then I’m having lunch with Scott at The Grille and bringing him up to speed.”
Misty lagged behind as Farrell and Blaine strode to the parking lot. Blaine pointed to Farrell’s truck and she shook her head.
“Can’t I go with you?”
“Not to the autopsy. No civilians.”
“I like watching you. You’re like a superhero or something.”
Farrell shook his blond head and laughed. “No, he ain’t. Far from it.”
“Maybe we’ll talk later,” said Blaine. “Have a fun day downtown.”
She nodded and said to Farrell, “I can walk from here.”
THE MORGUE was backed up and Enright’s autopsy dragged on. Nothing worth noting but the caliber of the bullet. At least they could match the .308 round to Race’s rifle if they could get their hands on it. Blaine would make sure they did.
“That was a wasted morning,” said Lopez. “I could have skipped it.”
“No way I could,” said Blaine. “My fault he’s dead and I didn’t want to miss anything.”
“Not your fault. It’s the sniper’s fault. Find him and bring him in.”
“I will. Count on it.”
“I do count on you, Blacky. More and more.”
On his way to meet the Governor for lunch, Blaine thought about kissing Misty in the parking lot and he wanted to call her. Shit, I didn’t even get her number.
His phone rang on the passenger seat. Unknown caller. He picked it up. “Blackmore.”
“You wanted my number?” Her voice sounded husky and sexy.
“What are you, psychic?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, how about dinner?”
“I can cook.”
“I bet you can, or we could go out.”
“I’ll ask the cards.”
“Tell me later what the cards say.”
“I like you, Blacky.” She ended the call.
You’re a bit strange, Misty, but I like you too.
His cell rang again, and the Governor cancelled. “I have an unscheduled meeting that I have to attend, and I can’t make lunch, son. Sorry. I was looking forward to a relaxing meal. Send me an email and catch me up.”
“Will do, sir. No problem.”
BLAINE ARRIVED BACK at the office with a takeout bag from Whataburger. He poured himself a coffee and ate alone by the window. Travis and Lily would be gone the rest of the day interviewing owners of Chesapeake Bay retrievers who lived in the Lady Bird Lake area of the city.
He smiled every time he thought of Misty. Funny girl. Where should he take her for dinner?
He tossed his bag into the trash, emptied the coffee carafe and called Annie. “Hey, Annie, you okay?”�
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She didn’t answer his question, just spewed out one of her own. “Why didn’t you tell me about Jesse’s baby girl?”
“Not my news to share and he wasn’t keen on you knowing about it until he was solid himself.”
“He seems solid now.”
“You saw him?”
“I drove over to Quantrall earlier and he showed Charity to me. Adorable baby.”
“He has his hands full now, and for the next few years.”
“Wish I could have given him a daughter.”
“No comment.”
“I assumed you called for a reason,” Annie’s tone was frosty. “You haven’t called to say hello for a long while.”
“I did call for a reason, and that doesn’t mean I love you less, believe me. But I need you to do something when Race is asleep or not using his truck.”
“What?”
“Search his truck for a rifle or get Mag to do it.”
“He doesn’t have a rifle.”
“That you know of,” said Blaine.
“That I know of,” repeated Annie. “Why would he need a rifle? I have a gun case full of them in the house.”
“Why do people usually need a gun?”
“What are you accusing him of?”
“Nothing until I have evidence.”
“And you want me to find the evidence against the man I live with?”
“Forget it, Annie. I thought you might have an opportunity that I wouldn’t have, that’s all.”
“If I did look in his truck, and if I did find a rifle, then what?”
“Leave it where it is and let me or Farrell know. You could also check for .308 ammo in his glove box.”
“Why am I doing this?” Her voice was bubbling with anger. “Tell me the truth.”
“When Enright was killed in the parking garage, I’m sure the shooter was trying for me.”
Annie sucked in a quick breath. “And you think it was Race?”
“It was Race, Mom. I just have to prove it.”
“No, no, no. It wasn’t him. Couldn’t have been. He’s not that person anymore.”
“Check the gash on Farrell’s neck and you’ll see what kind of person you’re living with.”
Annie was yelling into the phone. “Stop it, Blaine. Race is different now.”
