by Carolina Mac
“Sure, she’s in the office working. Something you want?”
“Nope. Just came for a visit.”
Race raised a dark eyebrow and smirked.
Blaine strode past Race into the kitchen and hopped onto one of the stools at the granite island. In Spanish he said, “Hey, Rosie, my sweetheart, I missed you.”
“Oh, Mr. Blaine, I missed you too. Your Spanish has improved so much.” She flashed a big smile. “Want a beer?”
“I do, thanks.”
“Your mama will be so happy you came to see her.”
Through the kitchen window, Blaine caught a glimpse of red out of the corner of his eye. “Farrell’s home. I’ll go out and say hi.”
“I’ll tell Mrs. C. y’all are here,” said Rosalie.
Blaine stood on the porch and watched the squad park next to the front porch. Cops liked to be close in case there was a problem getting the arrest to the vehicle.
And there will be a problem.
“Evening officer,” said Blaine. “Did Deputy Donovan explain the situation to you?”
The officer offered his hand. “In detail. Nice to meet you in person Mr. Blackmore. Heard a lot about you from fellow officers.”
Blaine grinned. “Exaggeration.”
“Don’t think so. Let’s get this done. Can you get Mr. Ogilvie for me?”
Annie stuck her head out the door. “Can I help you, officer?”
“Race Ogilvie, please ma’am.” He held up the warrant. “I have a warrant for his arrest.”
Annie glanced at Farrell and then back at Blaine. She didn’t look happy. “I’ll get him for you.” She returned a couple of minutes later and Race was right behind her.
Race brushed past Annie and stepped onto the porch. He was a good six inches taller than the deputy. “What’s the problem, officer?”
“I have a warrant here for your arrest, sir.”
“What’s the charge?” asked Race with a smirk on his face.
“Assault with a deadly weapon.”
Race spun around and faced Farrell. “You little shit.” Race lunged at Farrell and the officer drew his weapon.
“Stand down, sir and put your hands in front of you.”
Race gave the uniform a healthy shove. “Like I would. I’m out of here.”
“Halt,” said the officer. “Stand still, sir.” He nodded his head towards his partner and the two of them closed in on Race.
Race held up his hands. “Hey, I’m unarmed. Shoot an unarmed man and how will that look on the nightly news?”
“Go with them, Race,” said Annie. “I’ll call a lawyer for you.”
“Yeah, a lawyer like Blacky here? He couldn’t fight his way out of a legal paper bag.”
The officers were standing one on either side of Race, both with guns drawn. “Hold your arms out in front of you, sir, so we can put the cuffs on.”
Race shoved his hands in his pockets. “Nobody’s cuffing me, ever again.”
“Don’t make me use force, sir,” said the officer.
“You’ve probably never fired your weapon in your whole pussy-ass career.” Race laughed in his face.
Annie stomped off the porch and pointed. “Get in the squad car, Race. Let’s do this peacefully.”
“Peacefully? That word ain’t even in my vocab.” To Annie: “You knew about this, didn’t you?” He swung his arm around, knocked Annie to the ground and made a run for his truck.
“Don’t hit Mommy,” Jackson had heard all the yelling and had come outside.
Blaine was off the porch and on Race’s heels. “Stop, or I’ll shoot.”
“Go ahead, kid. You haven’t got the guts.”
Bang.
Race dropped to the ground hollering at the top of his lungs and holding his knee. “I’ll fuckin kill you, you little black bastard. Next time I see you, you’re dead.”
Farrell helped Annie to her feet and she brushed the dirt off her jeans. “You okay, Mom?”
She nodded, then knelt down on the porch and tried to console her scared and sobbing son.
“Search Race’s truck, officer,” said Blaine. “He may have a weapon in there that was used in a homicide.”
“I’ll do that, sir, if you’ll call in a request for an ambulance.”
“Already done,” said Blaine. He turned and walked back to Annie and Jackson. “You okay, buddy?”
“You shot my Daddy, Blaine. I’m mad at you.”
“He hurt Mommy,” said Blaine, “and Farrell, and other people.”
“I’m mad at Daddy too.” Jackson stared at his father writhing on the ground near his truck.
“Let’s go in the house.” Annie took Jackson by the hand. “I want to help Rosie with dinner.”
Ten minutes later the ambulance arrived. The paramedics strapped Race to a gurney and took him away. Annie didn’t go with him.
Blaine handed over his Beretta and one of the officers bagged it while the other searched Race’s truck. He found the rifle and pulled it out from under the back seat. He bagged it, marked it and put it in the squad car.
“Check with Austin Homicide,” said Blaine, “I think y’all will find that’s the gun used in the murder of a former DEA agent named Jacko Enright.”
“Yes, sir, and we’ll be happy to hand over Mr. Ogilvie to Austin Homicide.”
BLAINE STAYED FOR dinner at Coulter-Ross and ate with Annie and Jackson. Jackson was understandably upset about his father being shot and arrested, but Annie tried her best to smooth things over.
“When Daddy is allowed to have a visitor, we’ll go see him, okay?”
“I want to tell him that I’ll take good care of Pye while he’s in jail,” said Jackson.
Blaine smiled at his little brother.
Annie was beside herself, finding out Race had tried to murder Blaine. She swore Race would never set foot on Coulter-Ross property again.
I hope that’s true.
EXAUSTED FROM the funeral and the events that had followed, Blaine drove back to Austin. With Race out of the picture, at least for the time being, he had wanted to stay at the ranch with Annie, but Mrs. Flores would be expecting him, and he hadn’t told her any different.
It was full dark when he parked and went inside. She looked up from the evening paper and smiled when she saw him. Her Spanish was rapid. “Long day? You look very tired, my son. I’ll get you a coffee.”
“Si,” said Blaine. He removed his jacket and his empty harness and slumped down at the table in the alcove. He tried his best to put Race and Annie and the murders out of his mind. He wanted to clear his head and think of nothing but the hot cup of coffee and the plate of pecan tarts in front of him.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Thursday, December 7th.
BLAINE SLEPT POORLY knowing that Annie was angry and confused after finding out the truth about Race. Her pain had always been his pain. But this time, she had made a huge mistake choosing Race Ogilvie, a violent killer, over Jesse Quantrall, her husband. A choice Blaine could neither understand, nor condone. He loved Annie and had always seen her through rose-colored glasses as some kind of Madonna, but her latest fiasco proved she was flawed like the rest of humanity. Could he come to terms with what she’d done to her family?
Not yet. Maybe never.
Mrs. Flores had his breakfast cooking on the stove when he came downstairs to the kitchen. Bacon sizzled in the iron frying pan she favored and she watched it like a hawk, making sure it was crisp and not burnt. She flashed him a big smile, poured his coffee and carried it over to the table.
“You don’t have to wait on me. I can get my own breakfast.”
She shook her head. “No. You have to work. I want to cook for you.”
“You cook better than I do,” he said as he added cream to his mug. He’d worried constantly about her being alone most of the time in this neighborhood. Several Latino gangs were prevalent in this part of the city and the crime rate was high.
“How would you feel about me bringing m
y dog here to live with us?” he asked in Spanish.
“Perro?”
“Perra. Her name is Lexi.”
She thought for a moment. “Big or small?”
“Grande.” Blaine grinned and stretched out his arms.
Mrs. Flores laughed. “Okay,” she said in English.
His cell rang as he refilled his coffee mug. “Blackmore.”
“We’ve got a floater,” said Lopez. “She got hung up at the Longhorn Dam.”
“Are you there now?”
“On my way. First response is there. The scene is secure.”
“Uh huh. I’ll meet you. Twenty minutes.” He took his coffee back to the table and called the Governor’s private number. “A drowning victim has been discovered at the dam. I don’t have any details.”
“Drowning? Might not be connected, but you better check anyway. The media will look at it as a plague sweeping through the city. By noon, all the women in Austin will be shaking in their boots.”
“Jesus, don’t I know it.”
“Keep me in the loop.”
Blaine sat down, sipped his coffee and thought about calling the boys. He’d told them to sleep late. Their night surveillance was wearing them down. Instead, he called the office. “Lily, I’ll be at Longhorn Dam this morning. If the boys come in before I get there, tell them to keep working through the dog list.”
“Sure. I could help them. Do you want me to go out and do some interviews this morning?”
“No. Absolutely not. I don’t want you approaching any of those men alone.”
“Okay, I’ll wait.”
“What you could do if you’re free for an hour is go pick out some stuff for a baby girl. We need a gift.”
“I was supposed to do that and it’s on my list. How old is Ranger Quantrall’s baby?”
“She was born on October 20th, so you can guess the size she’ll need.”
“How much should I spend?”
“Do you have the Agency Amex card in your desk?”
“Uh huh.”
“Load it up.” He chuckled.
“This will be fun. I’ll have it all gift wrapped too.”
“Fantastic.”
BLAINE CRUISED ALONG East Cesar Chavez and flicked on his blinker to turn right on Pleasant Valley Road. Still a long way from the dam, and media vehicles were lined bumper to bumper on both sides. Barely room for two cars to pass. Reporters and camera men were hoofing it towards the scene. He reached out the window and plunked a strobe on the roof, turned on the siren and stepped on the gas.
They can get out of the fuckin way or do the next best thing.
His foul humor had carried over from the night before. Race Ogilvie always did that to him. He hated that guy and hated him near Annie. A pollutant—that’s what he was. Ogilvie contaminated everything and everybody near him.
When Blaine reached the line of police vehicles, he slowed. His cell rang on the seat beside him. Misty.
“Morning, girl. No time right now, but later for sure.”
“I saw the news.” She sounded sleepy.
“Is it on the fuckin TV already? I’m not even at the dam.”
“Upsetting for you. I’ll send you calming thoughts. Talk later.”
“Absolutely.”
He squeezed his huge truck in behind the crime scene van and hopped out. Uniforms were trying their best to keep the media away from the scene. A couple of the boys from downtown recognized him and gave him a wave.
One tired looking cop hooked a thumb over his shoulder and said, “Down there, Mr. B. They’ve got her out of the water.”
Blaine nodded and made his way to the water’s edge. He stood next to Lopez and stared at the young girl. “Jesus Christ, she’s only a kid.”
“Might have been accidental,” said Lopez. “Have to wait and see what the ME tells us.”
“Don’t think it’s connected to the other two girls,” said Blaine. “No similarities.”
Lopez looked Blaine in the eye, black eyes smoldering. “Gimme another killer loose in the city. That’s what I need.”
Blaine, Lopez and Nielsen walked the river bank and found nothing. “I’ll let you know as soon as I get the report from the ME,” said Lopez.
“Thanks,” said Blaine, “the boys are still working on the dog owners. I’ll be in touch.”
The media were all over him as he tried to get to his truck. He should have counted the times he said no comment. Why did they have to be so aggressive?
He had almost reached his truck when a small dark-haired girl approached him. “Mr. Blackmore-Powell, could you please give me something for the paper? Is this connected to the murdered girls in Zilker Park?” She was alone with no mic in her hand and no camera man behind her.
“What’s your name?”
“Mary Polito. I’m with the Austin Statesman.”
“Give me your card, Mary. I’ll get you something as soon as I can.”
“Thank you so much. I appreciate you talking to me.”
His cell rang as Mary handed him her card. “Later.” He turned and strode to his truck. “Yes, sir, I’m here, but there’s nothing yet. The medical examiner has just arrived.”
“Do you think it’s number three?” asked the Governor.
“Nope. If it wasn’t accidental, then it’s somebody else.”
“Damn it. I didn’t want to hear that.”
“Either way it’s not good.”
“The mayor is on edge,” said the Governor. “He phoned me twice this morning trying to dump it in my lap. What the hell am I supposed to do?”
“Do nothing and say nothing until we have something solid and factual in place. It shouldn’t be much longer. The last thing you want to do is make promises you can’t keep. Let the mayor or the Chief stick their foot in it. Don’t let them pressure you.”
“Of course, you’re right, son. I can always rely on your judgement.”
ANNIE REACHED FAYETTE MEMORIAL at eleven. Despite Jackson’s tearful pleas to visit his daddy, she’d left him at home.
She stopped outside Race’s room and spoke to the officer posted there. “Can I see Race for a couple of minutes?”
He picked up a clipboard and asked, “What’s your name, ma’am?”
“Annie Powell.”
“Yep, you’re on the list. Sign on this line and put the time beside your name. Leave any weapons out here with me. Thanks.”
Annie plopped her purse down beside his chair and pushed the door open.
Race grinned when he saw her. “Hey, girl, thought you forgot about me.”
“Not yet, but I’m going to,” she snapped.
“Hey, that’s not nice.”
“Yeah, well you’re not nice Race, and it took me longer than it should have to realize it.” She leaned in close to him and whispered, “You tried to kill my son and I’ll never forgive you for that.”
Race chuckled. “Who in hell told you that lie? Bet it was the kid himself.”
“The cops have the gun that was in your truck and we’ll soon find out who was lying and who was telling the truth.”
Annie watched Race’s left eye and saw the flicker. He was a fantastic liar like all bikers were, but he had a tell.
“How’s Pye? Is somebody feeding her?”
Annie stood up. “Jackson is feeding her, and will be for a long time. I don’t think they allow cats where you’re going.”
“That was harsh, girl. Don’t forget I love you.”
Annie left the room and didn’t look back.
TRAVIS AND FARRELL met back at the office after completing their list of interviews. Lily was at her desk, the baby shopping completed, and gift wrapped.
“Are all those presents for one little baby?” asked Farrell.
Lily giggled. “The boss said I could go wild with the Amex card. It was so much fun, I could hardly stop.”
“I’m glad it made you happy,” said Travis. “Don’t like to see you sad.”
“Boss said h
e was bringing us burgers,” said Farrell. “I’m fixing to keel over from starvation.”
“Have a coffee,” said Lily, “that will hold you over.”
Farrell strode over to the sideboard. “I’m eating the last donut from this morning, even though it’s a little stiff.”
“Go for it,” said Travis.
The door opened, and the smell of grease filled the office. “Oh, we’re saved,” hollered Farrell.
After the burgers and fries were consumed with gusto, Blaine asked for a report on the dog owners.
“Two were twitchy, boss,” said Travis, “and one was iffy, so I put him down for a second interview.”
“Did you have the three picked up?” asked Blaine.
“Yep, they should be sitting downtown pissing themselves by the time you get there,” said Travis.
“Hope so.” Blaine grinned. He pointed at the stack of gifts wrapped in pink on Lily’s credenza. “Nice job, Lil. I’ll deliver those later.”
He spun around and pointed to Travis and Farrell slouched down on the leather sofa, “You guys sleep until your shift tonight.” Back to Lily. “See what reports you can weasel out of homicide on this morning’s victim.”
“Yeah, boss,” said Farrell, “I could sleep.”
“And Farrell, when you bring the dogs to Austin tonight, bring Lexi and drop her off at Mrs. Flores’ house. I worry about the woman being alone all the time.”
“Sure, bro. Lexi’s mopy at the ranch. She misses you a lot and she’ll be happy to come to your house.”
Farrell is all about the dogs.
ON THE WAY HOME from the hospital, Annie called Jesse. “Can we talk?”
“What about, Ace?”
“About you and me. The divorce. What a fool I am. Things like that.”
“Is there any point?”
“Can you meet me at Boots for a beer?”
Jesse chuckled. “Nope. I’m feeding my baby.”
“I’ll come there.”
She ended the call before he could turn her down.
JESSE FINISHED feeding Charity and the bottle was empty. He laid her in her little bed and tucked a blanket around her. He hadn’t shaved but what did it matter? The baby didn’t care as long as she was fed and dry. She seemed to be happy.
