Hole in the Heart Read online

  HOLE IN THE HEART

  The Blackmore Agency: Book Thirteen.

  Carolina Mac

  Copyright © 2018 by Carolina Mac

  HOLE IN THE HEART - 1st ed.

  IBSN – 978-1-988850-61-0

  The moral right of the author has been asserted.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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  To those who protect

  The only real valuable thing is intuition.

  ―ALBERT EINSTEIN

  CHAPTER ONE

  Friday, May 1st.

  University Hospital. New Orleans.

  THE BED WAS EMPTY when he came back from grabbing a sandwich in the cafeteria. His heart stopped beating and blood drained from his head so fast it made him dizzy.

  Did she die while I wasn’t here?

  Blaine gripped the end of the bed for a moment thinking he might pass out, then turned on his heel and ran to the nurses’ station, chains clanking on his Harley boots and his long black hair flying. “Where’s Misty?” he hollered without meaning to, and the nurse put her finger to her lips. Blaine lowered his voice. “Did something happen while I was downstairs?” Blaine’s hand went to his chest to feel if his heart was still pumping.

  “Calm down, Ranger Blackmore. Doctor Lee Chang ordered a brain function test and they’ve taken her downstairs. That’s where she is. Shouldn’t take more than another half hour.”

  “Why does she need that? I thought all the tests had been done when she first arrived.”

  “I’ll have to let the doctor answer that question for you. I’m sure he has a good reason for wanting an update.”

  Blaine nodded and tried to ignore the pounding in his ears. The dizziness in his head combined with the hospital smell pervading the air was a sure fire recipe for hurling. He gagged out the words. “Sure. He probably knows what he’s doing.”

  He’s supposed to be the best in his field and I’m paying him thousands. He goddam well better know.

  Blaine sank into an uncomfortable chair in the waiting room with Misty’s mother, Claire LeJeune, a well-known physic beside him, and the wait seemed endless. Finally, Doctor Lee Chang appeared in the doorway and beckoned them. They followed like sheep down the corridor to his office, hardly more than an eight by ten cramped beige box. He pointed to the two chairs in front of his desk, and they sat. Blaine studied Lee Chang’s expression and figured the news wasn’t good.

  A short Asian man with slicked back black hair, Doctor Lee Chang rarely smiled. Blunt and to the point he delivered the facts with no sugar coating. Blaine had found that out already, and although the doctor’s approach mirrored Blaine’s own, it didn’t make it any easier when he was talking about someone you loved.

  The doctor tapped the end of his pen on the prescription pad in front of him. “When Miss LeJeune wakes up she will not be as you remembered her. Several areas of her brain have been affected by her head injury.”

  “Could you tell what her attacker hit her with?” asked Blaine. Saying the words made him picture Matthias Rush hitting Misty with something huge and heavy and knocking her to the floor. He could barely stand to think about it.

  “Something heavy,” said Lee Chang. “A substantial blunt instrument.”

  Fuck. I’ll kill that whacko.

  “Will she know us?” asked Mrs. LeJeune.

  “Possibly,” said the doctor, “but in a lot of coma cases, temporary amnesia is present when the patient awakens.”

  “What are you saying, doctor?” asked Blaine. “You usually spell it out more clearly than you’re doing now.”

  “Because the brain is complicated and unpredictable there are no guarantees. From the tests run today, I feel some of her motor skills may be affected, but to what degree it’s hard to tell. Let’s wait and see if and when she wakes up.”

  “What do you mean if?” asked Mrs. LeJeune. “My daughter will wake up today.”

  “It’s always good to be positive,” said the doctor.

  What’s going to be wrong with her? He knows but he’s not telling us.

  “My daughter has other …talents. Will they be affected by her head injury?”

  “What talents are you referring to, Mrs. LeJeune?”

  “Umm… she has strong psychic abilities and other gifts... like psychokinesis.”

  “Uh huh.” Doctor Lee Chang didn’t seem convinced.

  Blaine rolled his eyes.

  Misty can move things with her mind? I never saw her do that.

  “I wanted you both to be prepared for any possibility. The rest is up to Miss LeJeune.”

  “Thank you,” said Blaine. He shook the doctor’s hand and went back to sit with Misty. Mrs. LeJeune favored sitting in the waiting area with her knitting. She’d spent so much time there, her third afghan was nearing completion. Blaine had promised to call her the moment there was any change.

  Wondering what exact time Misty would wake, he sat down and checked the diamond Cartier on his wrist Annie had given him. Ten after three. When he looked back at Misty, her blue eyes were staring at him and he was so startled, he sucked in a little breath. “Misty, you’re awake.”

  The Blackmore Agency. Austin.

  “HEY, FARRELL,” Lily, Blacky’s personal assistant, ran into the kitchen where Farrell usually hung out drinking gallons of coffee when he wasn’t working. “Got a call from a girl out in Bluebonnet and she wanted to talk to the boss, but I don’t know when he’ll be back from New Orleans. Maybe you should call her. She seems pretty upset.”

  “Upset about what?”

  “About her sister gone missing.”

  “Yeah, sure, I can call her,” said Farrell, “but we don’t take cases from call-ins. That’s not how it works. People have local law enforcement for that.”

  Lil shrugged. A tall, slim blonde with impeccable grooming, Lily Duke was a black belt and much stronger than she appeared. “Do what you want. Boss said you were in charge of the office decisions while he was gone.” Lil turned in the doorway, “Heard anything about Misty? This is the day she’s supposed to wake up, isn’t it?”

  “Yep,” said Farrell, “Beltane. I had a hard time believing Blacky was buying into Mrs. LeJeune’s prediction.”

  “He had nothing else to hold on to,” said Lil. “It was something, at least.”

  Farrell nodded. “Where is Bluebonnet anyway? I’ve never heard of it.”

  “I Googled it, and it’s south off 190 between Menard and Eldorado,” said Lil. “Didn’t you come from San Angelo?”

  “Yep. Born there,” said Farrell. “Haven’t been back since… never mind.” Lil went back to her office and Farrell refilled his mug. He sat down at the table by the window and stared at the message slip.

  What else have I got to do today?

  He punched the number into his phone and listened to the ringin
g on the other end. No answer and he thought it was going to go to message when she said hello. “Miss Dennison? This is Ranger Farrell Donovan calling from the Blackmore Agency. How can I help you?”

  “Oh, thanks for calling. I wanted to talk to that Ranger Blackmore—the one I saw on TV a couple of times. I thought he would be the one who could help me.”

  “He’s out of state right now, Miss, and I’m covering his calls. You can tell me what the problem is. We work together.”

  “Okay. Will you tell him?”

  “Sure will,” said Farrell.

  “My sister, Sylvie, took her car—it’s an old Jeep Liberty that needs work—anyway, she took it to the garage. The one down in Sonora, and… and… she never came back.”

  “When was this ma’am? When did she take her Jeep in?”

  “Day before yesterday. Wednesday.”

  Shit. Too long already.

  “Did you report it to your local sheriff’s office?”

  “Uh huh. I called Wednesday night when she didn’t come back and the deputy on duty said he’d look into it. Then I called yesterday and again this morning, and they told me to be patient, they were working on it.”

  “Uh huh. What was the name of the garage in Sonora, Miss?”

  “Twin Auto.”

  Farrell wrote it down. “Is that the garage she usually went to?”

  “No. Always before she went back to the Jeep dealership, but her warranty expired because it was a second-hand vehicle, and she heard this garage in Sonora was reasonable, so she thought she’d try them.”

  “Uh huh. Makes sense.”

  The girl on the other end of the line was quietly crying and Farrell felt bad for her. “Why don’t I give Twin Auto a call, see what they have to say, and I’ll call you back in a few minutes.”

  “Would you? I called them myself and they said Sylvie’s car was ready to be picked up. They wanted to know when Sylvie would be coming to get it.”

  Huh.

  Farrell looked up the number for Twin Auto in Sonora on his phone and called.

  A guy answered on the first ring and barked out the words in a deep voice. “Twin Auto. Jeff speaking.”

  “Hey, Jeff, this is Ranger Donovan calling about Sylvie Dennison. I understand she brought her Jeep in to be fixed on Wednesday.”

  “Yep. Sway bars. All fixed. Waiting for her to come get it.”

  “Did you talk to her when she brought the Jeep in?”

  “Umm… don’t think it was me. Could have been Joey or one of the mechanics.”

  “Is Joey there?”

  “Yep. Hang on.”

  A couple minutes later Joey came on the line sounding exactly like Jeff. “Joey Golden. My brother said you were from the cops?”

  “Uh huh. Just wondering if you were the one who talked to Sylvie Dennison when she brought her car in on Wednesday?”

  “Yep. I signed her in. Sway bars, I think.”

  “Did she say where she was going while her Jeep was being fixed?”

  “Why? She gone AWOL? We’re waiting on her to pick up her vehicle.” He sounded impatient and avoided the question.

  “So… she had another plan and didn’t wait for the Jeep?”

  “Dropped it off and that was the only time I seen her.”

  “Okay, thanks for your time, Joey.”

  “No problem. Always happy to help the cops.”

  Farrell pressed end. “Fuck, this stinks.”

  “What stinks?” asked Travis. The rest of the crew was right behind him checking out for the day.

  “Got a girl out in the boonies calling us. Her sister went missing.”

  “A new case?” asked Carlos.

  “Not yet,” said Farrell, “but it might be. I’ll check it out with Jesse or Blacky before I move on it.”

  Farrell’s phone rang on the table. “Boss is calling now.” Farrell picked it up. “Tell me the good news first.”

  “Misty woke up. Now that she’s awake, her doctor took her for new tests. I’m sitting in the cafeteria waiting.”

  “Great news. I guess her mother was right about the date.”

  “Seems like it.”

  “You sound weird,” said Farrell. “Something else wrong?”

  “Yeah, Doctor Lee Chang told us this morning there were going to be problems. But I don’t know what they are yet.”

  “Bring her home. We can cope,” said Farrell. “Don’t matter what’s wrong. We got doctors in Austin.”

  “I’m making calls now for private nursing,” said Blacky.

  Farrell filled him in on Sylvie Dennison missing out in Bluebonnet.

  “I should be home tomorrow or Sunday. We’re between cases so check it out with the local sheriff or run it by Jesse if you want to pursue it.”

  “Maybe I will. Be better than sitting on my ass.”

  University Hospital. New Orleans.

  THRILLED that her daughter was awake, Mrs. LeJeune left the hospital to have dinner with friends in New Orleans and celebrate. She had commitments in Lily Dale and had to leave for New York State the following day.

  An orderly brought Misty back from her tests and helped a nurse transfer her to her bed and make her comfortable. While this was going on, Blaine waited in the corridor. He’d smoked a whole pack of Marlborough’s waiting for the tests to be completed, then because he was outside in the smoking area he’d missed speaking to Doctor Lee Chang. That little piece of shit timing turned him into a stressed out train wreck. His talk to the doctor would have to wait until morning. Stress was catching up with him. He needed a break from the waiting and worrying and he wanted a Corona and a steak.

  “You can go in now, Ranger Blackmore,” said the nurse. “She’s all set.”

  He walked into the room and was surprised to see Misty sitting up smiling at him. “Hey, you look better. How were the tests?”

  No response. Just the same smile.

  “Misty?” He sat in the chair beside the bed. “Misty, can you say something?”

  The smile vanished, and she stared at him. He could read anger in her blue eyes.

  Trays clattered outside the door and a kitchen helper brought a tray in and set it on the mobile table in front of Misty.

  She showed Blaine the card. “Soft diet ordered by her doctor.”

  “Uh huh. She hasn’t eaten solid food for a few weeks.”

  The woman left the tray and Blaine removed the lid. “Do you need help with your dinner, sweetheart?”

  Misty lifted her arm and tried to reach for the fork, but she couldn’t do it.

  “Let me help you.” Blaine put the fork in her hand and pushed the table closer.

  Misty tried to direct the fork towards the poached eggs but her hand flopped down on the white blanket.

  “I can feed you,” said Blaine.

  Misty shook her head and jerked the fork away from Blaine as he reached for it. She sat for several seconds staring at the fork and then at the tray. An almost inaudible growl came from Misty’s throat and a couple seconds later the food tray flew across the room and smashed into the door with a loud crash.

  Blaine’s eyes widened. “Wow, Mist, that was impressive.” He smiled at her and she reached for his hand.

  “You don’t like poached eggs?”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Saturday. May 2nd.

  The Blackmore Agency. Austin.

  FARRELL sat on the back porch of the old Victorian three-storey relic that his foster brother had renovated and now called home. The house was too big and Blacky had decided there was plenty of room for a couple of offices on the main floor. It had been a good move.

  The crew liked working out of the house. Coffee was always on and Carmelita was a fixture in the kitchen cooking up a storm and feeding them all their favorites.

  When he finished his smoke, Farrell whistled for the dogs. Lexi was a huge black Newfoundlander that Blacky rescued from the pound in Giddings and Hoodoo belonged to Misty. A gorgeous Bernese Mountain Dog.

&
nbsp; Farrell had been thinking about the girl out in Bluebonnet ever since she called and wondered if he should drive out there and talk to the county sheriff. Nothing much was going on here at the Agency and it was the weekend. He picked up his cell and called Jesse.

  “Hey, Farrell. Heard the news about Misty. She woke up right on schedule.”

  “Blacky’s happy. Says he’ll be back soon. Maybe tomorrow.”

  “Things quiet in the city?”

  “Nice and quiet. No new cases, at least for now. I want to run something by you.” Farrell told him the details of the missing girl.

  “Uh huh. Sounds weird, don’t it?” Jesse was always in favor of helping a damsel in distress.

  “Blacky said to go talk to the sheriff out there if I wanted to. I might drive out to Sonora and nose around. Got nothing happening today.”

  “Sure,” said Jesse, “and let me know if we need to dig deeper. I’ll give you a hand.”

  “Thanks, boss.”

  Rankin County. Texas.

  FARRELL gassed up his red Silverado and headed down the I-35 to catch route 290. He’d cut cross country and pick up the I-10 and miss San Antone altogether. More relaxing drive with a lot less traffic. He shoved Annie’s CD into the slot and lowered the windows. It was already cooking hot in south Texas, and it was only the second day of May.

  He’d called Avery Dennison and told her he was coming. He’d hit the Rankin County Sheriff’s Office first outside of Eldorado, then go find her in Bluebonnet. On his way back to the interstate, he’d go to Twin Auto and see what those boys were all about. Somewhere inbetween there he’d get some lunch and a brew if he saw a good barbeque place.

  At ten-thirty, he parked in front of the county sheriff’s office on route 277 outside of Eldorado and went inside. He paused at the duty officer out front and showed his creds. “Hey, there. I was wondering if the sheriff was working today?”

  “It’s the weekend, Ranger Donovan, and the sheriff ain’t here, but Matt’s here and he can probably help you with whatever.”