by Carolina Mac
Awakened by the gunshot, Charity screamed. Jesse hopped over Ogilvie’s body and ran to the crib to scoop her up. “Did Daddy wake you up?” He cuddled her close and kissed her little face. “I’m so sorry, honey.”
In the next minute, all the Quantrall boys were in the hall in their boxers. “Holy hell, Jesse, what happened?”
“Ogilvie was going into Charity’s room. He turned and pointed a gun at me and I shot him.”
“You better call the Sheriff,” said Bobby. “Ty, take the baby, she’s scared.”
A sleepy-headed Tyler took Charity from Jesse and went into the nursery without a word.
Brian knelt on the carpet beside Race and felt for a pulse. He nodded his head. “Right through the heart, Jesse. Your marksmanship is improving.”
“I’m shaking so bad it’s a wonder I hit him at all.”
“That’s after the fact,” said Brian. “You must have been steady when it counted.”
Jesse called Sheriff Cumberland’s private number and woke him up. “Shit, Jesse, are you out partying again?”
“I was sleeping, same as you until Ogilvie paid me a visit.”
“What the hell?”
“Bring the troops. He’s bleeding into my hall carpet.”
“Fuck. Is he dead?”
“You bet.”
ANNIE HAD NEVER FELT so drained. She was always up for sex and had been for most of her adult life, but Scott was older, and not as fun and as appealing as the young cowboys in her life. He loved her madly and she loved him back, in a way—more of a fatherly way—not so much in a hot way. Sex with him took a lot of effort and she wasn’t feeling it tonight.
She slid between the sheets wearing a little Victoria Secret number that she’d only worn for a few minutes at a time.
“Love your outfit,” Scott said with a chuckle, “what there is of it.”
“It’s only for show. I won’t be wearing it long.”
Annie was pleasantly surprised by how amorous Scott was as he eased her into the mood. She mounted him, kissing his neck and rocking him gently. As she came closer to orgasm, she turned up the heat and rode him mercilessly. He groaned loud and long beneath her. She thought he was coming, but she thought wrong.
He was going. Scott lay perfectly still, and he wasn’t breathing.
Annie screamed for Declan and he came running. He flicked on the light, charged across the master suite and stared at the Governor’s naked body. He placed a practiced two fingers on Scott’s neck and felt for a pulse. None.
“What did you do, boss?”
Tears rolled down Annie’s cheeks as she shrugged her robe on. “I fucked him dead.”
Declan couldn’t contain a chuckle. “Hope I die that way.”
Annie ran her fingers through his curls. “You might.” She moved away from the bed and collapsed onto a chair near the window. She called Blaine.
“Mom?” He sounded sleepy.
“I need help, baby, and I wouldn’t ask you if it wasn’t important.”
“What Mom? It’s the middle of the night. Are you in jail? Are you drunk again? What have you done?”
“I fucked Scott to death.”
“What?” Blaine sounded more awake. “Is this a joke?”
“No joke,” she let out a sob. “Is there some kind of protocol for dead governors? I don’t want his reputation damaged because of me.”
“I’ll call Chief Calhoun. The State should probably handle it.”
“Thank you, baby. I knew I could count on you.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Tuesday, December 19th.
BLAINE SHOWERED at two a.m. Every bone in his body wanted to go back to bed, but he had to wake himself up enough to speak coherently to the myriad of folks he needed to call.
What the hell, Mom?
He phoned down to room service for coffee and there was no room service for four more hours—San Antonio wasn’t Vegas. In lieu of that, he bribed the front desk clerk with promise of a huge tip to cross the street to Starbucks and fetch him two large containers of coffee with cream.
After parting with a twenty-dollar bill, plus the cost of the coffee, he sipped his caffeine and made a list. Chief Calhoun was first up.
The Chief’s voice came across dry and raspy in the middle of the night. “Blacky, it must be damn, fucking important for you to be waking me up at two twenty.”
“Discretion is what we need, Chief. I need the state medical examiner to drive down to Coulter-Ross and pronounce Governor Richardson and I’d regard it as a personal favor if you were the only Texas Ranger on hand to witness it.”
“Am I hearing you right, son?”
“You are. I’m in San Antone, but I’m leaving shortly, and I’ll meet you at the ranch.”
“The Lieutenant Governor will have to be notified.”
“I’ll take care of it, or we can do it together in the morning. First things first.”
“Why is Scott at Coulter-Ross, or do I want to know?”
“You don’t.”
“A goddam nightmare, and I’m wide awake. Almost.” He drew in a long breath. “I’m making a call and heading for the shower.”
“Thanks, Chief.”
AFTER AN HOUR staring at the white line on the interstate, Blaine called Jesse and told him the news about the Governor.
“You don’t need to tell me how he died if he was at Coulter-Ross. I don’t even want to think about it.” Jesse blew out a breath. “Y’all ain’t the only ones up all night. I had unexpected company. Mr. Ogilvie paid me a visit a few hours ago.” He filled Blaine in. “My upstairs hall is crowded with techs now that Doc Scanlon took Ogilvie off my hands.”
“Shit,” said Blaine. “I’ll have to break that news to Annie, and to Jackson. Maybe I’ll wait until later in the day.”
“I can come over and help you with it, but not until things settle down here.”
“Come over as soon as you can. I need to get Annie on track and then get back to the hospital. Misty will think I abandoned her.”
Blaine ended his call to Jesse and before he could toss his cell onto the passenger seat, it rang. “Lopez.”
“Morning, Detective, you’re up early.”
“Most homicides happen after midnight,” he mumbled.
“What are the numbers on that?”
“Fuck off, kid. You sound like you been up for a while.”
“Yeah, well you know, the early bird and all that.”
“Don’t bullshit me, is something going on?”
“Keeping a cap on it for the next couple of hours but keep your ears open, there will be a bulletin this afternoon.”
“Fuck, I hate surprises and I hate waiting.”
“This surprise ain’t anything good, but while you’re waiting, you can get Misty’s statement and close that chapter. She’s awake. And while y’all are there, tell her I can’t come until tonight. Unavoidable.”
“What’s unavoidable? You’re not going to tell me, right?”
“One piece of good news I can tell you, Race Ogilvie is dead. You can close Enright’s murder file. Race broke into Quantrall and Jesse put a bullet through his heart.”
“Jesus, busy night.”
“Yeah, wasn’t it?”
“Don’t know what you’re not telling me, but I’ll exercise what little patience I have left and wait until you clue me in. Guess I’m off to San Antonio to see your pretty lady.”
WHILE BLAINE waited for Jose to open the gate and let him into Coulter-Ross, he eyeballed the lineup of vehicles parked willy-nilly all over the compound. The Governor’s Limo with the flag flapping in the breeze—no driver in sight, a Texas Ranger SUV—Chief Calhoun, and the Medical Examiner’s van—Doctor Mort Simon.
Blaine parked near the garage and jogged to the house, dark outside but inside was a blaze of lights. Annie, dressed in sweats, stood near the coffee maker, her face tear stained and her eyes red-rimmed from crying.
Blaine crossed the room without a word and
held her in his arms. He kissed her hair and whispered, “So sorry, Mom.”
“I’ve caused so much damage lately,” she said, “I want to disappear off the face of the earth.”
“Don’t talk like that. And don’t disappear before you pour me a coffee.”
She managed a weak smile. “I love you, baby. You are my rock.”
“I’ll love you more if you make me a piece of toast. Be right back. I’d better see where we’re at in the other room.”
The master suite buzzed with activity. The medical examiner, going it alone, was in the process of closing up Governor Richardson’s body bag. The sound of the zipper put Blaine’s teeth on edge.
He crossed the room and shook hands with Chief Calhoun. “Chief, I’ll call the Lieutenant Governor as soon as it’s a reasonable hour.”
The Chief checked his watch and screwed up his ruddy face. He was a large man, always in uniform, with close-cropped auburn hair salted with gray. “Fuck it,” he growled, “wake him up. The rest of us are up.”
Blaine smiled. “If you say so.” He retreated to the back corner of the suite and used Annie’s work area to make the call. The Lieutenant Governor, a man named Hugh DeVouge, took the news remarkably well. Blaine hadn’t had any dealings with the man personally, but Scott made no secret of disliking him.
“Let’s schedule a meeting for four o’clock, shall we? In my office at the Capitol.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You can advise Ranger Quantrall.”
“I’ll do that,” said Blaine.
JESSE STOOD at the front door and watched the last of the crime scene techs leave around noon. He sat down for a quick bite with his brothers, before leaving for Coulter-Ross. Delivering the news about Race to Annie was the last thing he wanted to do.
“You look exhausted,” said Brian. “Perhaps you should have an hour’s sleep before going to Annie’s.”
“I want to get it over with,” said Jesse. “Then I’ll sack out when I get back.”
“That’s a lot for Annie to deal with in one day,” said Brian. “The Governor dying in her bed, and you killing the father of her son.”
Jesse winced. “Sounds bad when you say it like that, Brian. It was self-defense.”
“Of course, it was. The man had a gun in his hand.”
Jesse ate half of what he’d put on his plate, then stood up. “I can’t eat. Ty, you okay with Charity for a while?”
“Umm… I’ve got a buyer coming in half an hour.”
“No problem,” said Jesse, “I won’t be long. I’ll take her with me.”
BLAINE PACED on the porch waiting for Jesse to arrive. His day was going to hell and his sanity was evaporating minute by minute. He didn’t want to be here sorting out Annie’s mess; he wanted to be with Misty in the hospital.
That must mean something. Annie always used to be my first priority.
He blew out a long breath when Jesse’s Land Rover pulled up to the gate. “Thank God, Jesse is here. I don’t think I can do this on my own.”
Blaine watched as Jesse opened the back door of his new vehicle. What did he bring with him?
“Oh, man,” Blaine chuckled as Jesse stepped up onto the porch, “I forgot about the baby with all that’s going on.” He opened the door and held it for Jesse.
“Ty has a customer, so I had to bring her.”
“No problem. Might cheer Annie up.”
“Not for long,” said Jesse in a whisper.
“Yeah, not for long.”
ANNIE IMEDIATELY BRIGHTENED when Jesse walked into the kitchen. “Oh, you brought our baby.” She took the baby from Jesse and he set the diaper bag on one of the kitchen chairs.
“Look, Jacks. Look how cute she is.” Annie leaned down so Jackson could see Charity.
“That’s a tiny baby, Jesse. Where’d you get her?”
“Umm… that’s a hard question, Jacks. Give me a minute to think of the answer.”
Annie giggled, and Blaine nodded, thinking Annie might be okay after all.
Declan entered the kitchen with a bottle of Texas bourbon in his hand, eyed the group, and cast a glance Annie’s way to see how she was holding up. “Let’s all have a coffee, shall we? It’s been a brute of a morning.” He put the bottle on the table and sat down.
And an even worse night.
Blaine had briefed Declan on Race’s demise, so he’d be ready to deal with the fallout.
Jackson ran off to play and Annie sat down next to Declan, still cradling the baby in her arms.
“What kind of a vibe am I getting from y’all?” She handed off the baby to Jesse and stood up. “Go ahead and spit it out. I won’t break.”
Blaine gave Jesse the nod. “Go ahead, Jesse.”
Annie screwed up her face. “What’s Jesse got to do with it?”
Jesse rocked Charity and began his story. “Last night, Ace, about half past one, Race broke into my house.”
“Race?” Annie came closer and leaned on the table, “Why would he go to Quantrall? Where is he now?”
“He’s dead, Ace,” said Jesse in a softer tone. “He tried to kill me, and I shot him.”
“No.” Annie screamed. “No, you didn’t, Jesse. Why are you saying that?” She ran down the hall in the direction of her room, stopped short at the door and screamed louder. “I can’t go in there. I can’t go in my own fucking room.”
Declan jumped to his feet in an instant and pursued her. He caught her in his arms as she crumpled into a sobbing heap on the floor. “Let’s put you in one of the guest rooms.”
Blaine poured a shot of bourbon into a glass and took it to Declan. “This might help.”
When Blaine returned to the kitchen, Charity was crying, and Jesse paced back and forth, trying to calm her. “I better get her home, Blacky. This is the first time I’ve had her out.”
“You can’t go,” said Blaine, “the Lieutenant Governor wants us at four o’clock in his office—a command performance.”
“Well, I can’t go.” Jesse laid Charity on the table and struggled with her bunting bag. “Give him my regrets. Scott didn’t like him, and neither do I. The man’s a prick.”
Blaine raised an eyebrow. “Oh, yeah? I don’t know him.”
“You’re one of the lucky ones.”
“Aw, shit,” said Blaine, “and y’all are sending me there alone? Now I don’t want to go, but I guess I have to.”
After Jesse took Charity home, Blaine spent a moment with Farrell in the great room where he sat with his leg on the ottoman. “Between you and Declan, y’all have to keep her under control. I can’t be here to watch her. I’ve got a meeting at the Capitol, then I’m going straight back to San Antone to the hospital.”
“I’ve got this, bro,” said Farrell. He picked up the remote and turned the channel. “Dec will calm her down in no time. He’s good at stuff like that.”
BLAINE APPROACHED the Capitol building with trepidation. Always impressed by the ‘Great Walk’ and the statues of the men who had made Texas great, he hardly noticed any of it as he hurried to make the four o’clock appointment on time.
As his boot heels echoed on the marble floor of the rotunda he gave himself a talking to. I’ll keep an open mind until I see for myself if I can work with him or not.
The Lieutenant Governor’s assistant tapped on the door and a voice on the other side hollered, “Come in.” She made a motion, Blaine entered, and the woman closed the door after him.
Hugh DeVouge was younger than Scott Richardson by about ten years. Mid-fifties, with dark brown hair neatly combed. His tan designer suit appeared to be new. Tall and angular, DeVouge wasn’t handsome by any means, a long, narrow horse face with a huge, fleshy nose plunked in the center.
Blaine crossed the room, stood in front of the desk and extended a hand. “Sir.”
DeVouge didn’t shake Blaine’s hand, and instead pointed to the leather club chair in front of his desk. Blaine sat, on the one hand, ticked by the slight and on the other, slight
ly amused by the man’s arrogance. He waited for DeVouge to begin, not having a clue what the topic of conversation might be.
“My condolences, son. I know you and Scott were close.”
“Thank you, sir. Yes, we had a close working relationship.”
“I’m aware of everything the violent crime team did since its formation. Scott copied me on all the reports. He set the team up and was high on you and your boys from the get-go. He gave you the run of the state and I must say, for the most part, y’all had good results.”
“Thank you.” Blaine could tell he wasn’t going to like where this little chat was headed.
DeVouge leaned back in his leather chair and rested one boot on the corner of his desk. “But… any kind of law enforcement off the grid is not my style.”
Blaine said nothing.
DeVouge removed his foot and leaned forward across the bare desk. “Nothing to say? I expected you to protest.”
“Why should I?”
“Then my termination of the Blackmore Agency doesn’t come as a surprise?”
“Should it?”
DeVouge’s smile was a nasty surprise. “I’ll be sworn in,” he checked the Rolex on his wrist, “in less than an hour and I’m asking you politely—this one time—not to mess with me.”
Blaine stood up. “The violent crimes team operates under an authority higher than yourself, sir. You can’t terminate us.” Blaine smiled back.
DeVouge floundered for a moment and then tried to recover control of the meeting. “And who would this higher power be?”
“That information is classified and none of your concern.”
“Bullshit. Everything in the State of Texas is my concern, or will be an hour from now. Don’t mess with me, kid. You’ll be sorry that you did.”
“Not as sorry as y’all will be, if you try to mess with me.”
Blaine chuckled as he jogged to the parking lot.
There’s an asshole on a power trip. Wonder how fast I can bring him down?
ANNIE ROSE from her nap in the guest room and sat on the side of the bed trying to rationalize what had to be done.
Who would plan the state funeral for Scott? Is it my job because we were engaged?
