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Cat wore a concerned look as she showed them into the sitting room and closed the French doors behind them. Her cheeks were pink, and Blaine didn’t know if she was flushed from excitement of the day or from anger at Reg. It was no secret that the new Governor had a temper.
Bromwell kept glancing at Cat as if he had something he needed to say but thought better of it and held his tongue.
“Okay,” said Blaine, “Let’s get this out of the way. It’s been a long grueling day and I know everybody is tired.” He pointed to a wing chair at the end of the blue velvet sofa and Bromwell sat down. Blaine took up a position on the sofa and placed a small recorder on the carved coffee table. Cat moved a little farther away and sat near the window.
“Go ahead when you’re ready, Reg,” said Blaine. He gave the date and Reg’s name, and waited.
“I walked down the street and was about to get into my car when they came out of nowhere. I couldn’t believe it.”
“Did you know the men?” asked Blaine.
“No.”
Farrell paced along the other side of the coffee table keeping his eyes on Reg’s face. “They seemed to be waiting for you specifically,” Farrell said. “Why would that be?”
“I have no idea.”
“How much cash were you carrying?” asked Blaine.
“Umm… a few thousand. I’d been to the ATM.”
“Do you usually carry that much cash?” asked Blaine.
“No. Never, but I wanted to be prepared in case Catherine wanted to do something special on her special day.”
Blaine nodded. “Uh huh. You couldn’t be just as prepared with a credit card?”
“I thought cash would look better,” said Reg.
“Better to who?” asked Blaine. “I’m sure Cat wouldn’t care how you paid for her drink.”
Reg shrugged.
“Did anyone else know about the cash?”
“No.”
Cat watched from across the room with an intrigued look on her face.
“Go ahead,” said Blaine. “They came at you and then what happened?”
“I had my hand on the car door opening it, when Deputy… sorry, I forgot his name… shouted at them.”
“Donovan,” said Blaine.
“Deputy Donovan, uh huh. And that’s when the bigger one of the two men gave me a shove out of the way and pulled a gun. He fired at Donovan with the gun close to me and I still can’t hear properly. Deputy Donovan fired back, hit him in the head and…” Reg made a face and tried to brush the brains and tissue off the front of his tux. “And then he dropped dead on the ground right next to me.”
Blaine nodded for him to keep going.
“I leaned on my car while Deputy Donovan hollered at the other guy to stop. But he didn’t stop. He kept running. Donovan chased him and fired a shot on the run and the second guy fell down.”
Blaine noticed Cat smiling in Farrell’s direction.
“This has been a shock,” said Reg. “I’d like to go home if I’m finished here.”
Blaine turned off the recorder. “Of course, you can go, Reg. I’ll check on you tomorrow.”
“I’ll walk him to his car,” said Farrell.
After they left, Blaine crossed the room to where Cat was sitting. “Any idea why he’d be carrying around a lot of cash?”
“No, I don’t. It surprised me when you mentioned it.”
“He’s lying about something, Cat. How well do you know him?”
“Pretty well. We’ve been seeing each other for several months, and a few weeks ago he asked me to marry him.”
“After you won the election in November?”
Cat smiled. “Yes, after the election. New Year’s Eve.”
“Romantic,” said Blaine.
“It was.”
“Anything in his past that might cause trouble?”
“Not that he’s mentioned to me.”
“Maybe it’s something he doesn’t talk about,” said Blaine. “Most of my staff at Powell and Associates have been vetted by Lil or by me but I might have missed something. I’ll have a chat with him tomorrow.”
“Thanks for taking care of it, sweetie. You’re my rock.” She gave him a hug. “Let’s all go home and get some rest. It feels like it’s been one of the longest days in history.”
BLAINE headed for his truck with Farrell, and as soon as they were off State property, they were mobbed by media people who’d been lurking in the street waiting for them.
Bright lights blinded them, and reporters shouted dozens of questions. “Was it a terrorist attack?”
Blaine sighed and held up a hand. “It was an attempted mugging, pure and simple. Foolish of the perpetrators to try anything on this street with all the extra security added for the Governor’s reception.”
“Did Dead-eye Donovan kill another one?” shouted somebody from the back of the pack.
“The muggers were armed and one of them shot directly at Ranger Donovan. He defended himself.”
“Why did he have to shoot the other guy?” asked some bleeding heart.
“Ranger Donovan gave the required warning, and the other would-be robber did not stop.”
“Who was the intended victim?”
“He was a guest at the reception. That’s all for tonight. I have to work tomorrow, kids.”
“Will Mary have a release tomorrow?”
The media people in the city knew enough about the Blackmore Agency to know Mary Polito was the Agency’s press liaison.
“I’m not sure, but I’ll be speaking with her tomorrow morning and I’ll put your request forward.”
CHAPTER THREE
Wednesday, January 21st.
The Blackmore Agency. Austin.
THE ALARM went off and the last thing Blaine wanted to do was get out of bed. After the Bromwell thing the night before and sorting it out afterwards, he and Farrell hadn’t got home until after three. When he realized he’d be stuck at the Governor’s residence for another couple of hours after the mugging, he’d sent Misty and Carm home with Annie and she dropped them off shortly after one. They could sleep late, but sadly he couldn’t. Today was a work day.
Lexi and Hoodoo were lined up at the door of the bedroom waiting to go downstairs and into the yard.
The moment Blaine pushed the duvet back, Lexi wagged her tail and pawed the door. “I’m coming,” he whispered. He picked up his smokes and his phone from the nightstand and struggled out of bed. At least they’d be back at full power today. Travis and Hammer were off the disabled list, and his own ribs had healed to a tolerable point.
The kitchen buzzed with activity when Blaine arrived, shivering from his quick smoke on the back porch while the dogs had a run. The dogs weren’t cold, but he was. He headed straight for the cupboard that held the mugs and poured himself a coffee.
“You could have slept later,” he said to Carm. “That was a late night for you.”
Carm shrugged and answered him in Spanish. “I used to stay up late and watch movies. Now I only watch HGTV.” She giggled at her newfound passion.
Farrell appeared at the kitchen door, his straw-colored hair sticking out in six directions. “Jesus, am I ever fuckin tired.”
“You got a side arm for today?” asked Blaine.
He nodded. “Fuckin hate it when they take one that feels perfect and I have to start over.”
“Guess you better not shoot anybody else.”
“I always think that, but then there’s another asshole pointing a gun at me and I pull the trigger.” Farrell chuckled. “Can’t help it.”
Misty floated into the room and zoned in on the kettle. She made tea every morning as soon as her gorgeous blue eyes were open.
“How did you know about Bromwell?” asked Farrell.
Misty shrugged. “Looked at him when Blaine introduced us and bingo—the mugging flashed in front of my face. I never know when a vision is coming and sometimes the flashes scare me.” She took a cup from the cupboard and opened the tin o
f tea bags.
“Any other insight on who the two men were?” asked Blaine. “We could use help if you’ve got any.”
“Nope, sorry. Nothing right now.” She smiled at Blaine.
“I’ll have Lily see what comes up on their ID’s. If they have jackets, their known associates can give a big clue into what the hell is going on with Mr. Bromwell.”
“What’s Lily doing?” she asked as she walked into the kitchen. Blaine’s personal assistant, Lily Duke had made the transition with him from his law firm when he opened the Blackmore Agency. A tall blonde with a black belt and her PI license, Lily was a valuable asset and Blaine depended on her more than he should.
Blaine went over the events of the night before while Lily helped herself to a coffee and added a tiny drop of cream.
“Reg Bromwell? Are you kidding me? He’s trying to get his boots under the Governor’s bed?”
Blaine raised an eyebrow. “Why? Does he have a rep I know nothing about?”
“Sure as hell does, boss,” said Lily with a curl of her red lips. “Tales of the janitor’s closet and all those hot and steamy stories at Powell and Associates.”
Blaine chuckled. “What stories? Why didn’t I hear any good stories when I was there?”
“You weren’t in the office most of the time to see or hear anything,” said Lily. “But I was. I was the office manager, and I got to see a lot of the paralegals with their skirts on backwards.”
“What?” Blaine couldn’t stop laughing. “You’re shitting me, Lil.”
“I’ve clipped old roll-em-on-the-rug Reggie a couple of good ones across the head, and believe me, he deserved it.”
“Hot damn, Lil,” said Farrell, “I think the boss missed out on a lot of good times at the office.”
Blaine was still laughing when Fletcher, Travis and Hammer came in to report for work. He pointed to the coffee. “Get a cup and sit down. We’ll have a short meeting, but first I want to get Lil started on something.”
Lil’s office was next to his own at the end of the hall farthest from the front entrance. The old Victorian was huge and allowed plenty of space for living and for work.
Blaine explained to Lily about the two guys after Reg. “You can get details from the morgue for the one who made the mistake of shooting at Farrell, and the other one is at Saint Michael’s with a slug in the back of his leg. We’ll be interviewing him this morning and I’m also planning to have a chat with rug burn Reggie.”
Lily giggled. “I can’t believe he’s got Judge Campbell snowed—well not a judge any more—Governor Campbell.”
“She didn’t look too pleased with him last night. That romance may be coming to a close. I hope.”
Morning Meeting of Blackmore Agency.
BLAINE looked around the table at his staff. They all looked more put together and more gung ho than he felt.
Hammer—Hamilton Chisholm was a new hire. A big guy, tough and muscular, he’d been an MP before his discharge from the military. His first week on the job, he’d been shot in the foot and today was his first day back.
Fletch—Fletcher Bowden was hired the same time as Hammer. He was a former Corrections Officer from the Travis County facility and he also had a background in security systems. A good addition to the agency.
Travis Bristol—long time member of the team. Former Spec Ops and Recon in the Marines, Travis was back from a bullet in the groin.
Farrell Donovan—Blaine’s foster brother. Crack investigator, and sharp shooter. He always had Blaine’s back.
“Here’s how the morning is shaping up,” said Blaine. “Farrell will talk to the Chief about the shooting last night and fill out the required paperwork.”
Farrell nodded.
“After that, Farrell will hit the gun shop, and I want all of our vehicles fitted with gun safes and a choice of weapons and ammo. No situation will arise that we’re not prepared for. Not being ready could get any one of us killed.”
“Okay,” said Farrell. “Give me a suggested list, boss.
Blaine shoved a printout across to Farrell.
“Hammer and I will interview shot guy at the hospital. Might get nothing. Then from there we’ll go chat with Bromwell at Powell and Associates. As soon as I’m certain Reg is at the office and he’ll be tied up for a while, Travis and Fletcher will visit Bromwell’s residence and prepare for some later surveillance.”
“Yep,” said Travis. “Does Lil have the address?”
“She does.”
Ranger Headquarters. Austin.
FARRELL arrived at Chief Calhoun’s office with two large coffees from Starbucks. Now that the Chief was used to Farrell bringing him coffee and looked forward to it, Farrell dared not forget.
Calhoun was a big man edging close to sixty. Retirement was a word no one at headquarters ever said and a word they didn’t want to hear. Most of the Chief’s hair was gray now, and he’d progressed from reading glasses to bifocals, but he kept himself fit. His uniform was always spotless, the pants with a razor-sharp crease, the boots polished, and on his chest, he wore his star with pride.
Farrell gave him all the details of the Bromwell incident as well as Blacky’s thoughts on the subject and Lily’s tales out of school.
The Chief laughed. “This guy Bromwell is a regular gigolo with his hooks in Judge Campbell?”
“Gospel according to Lil,” said Farrell with a grin.
“Miss Lily managed that office for years before Blacky snatched her out of there,” said the Chief, “She should know.”
“Blacky wants to dig deep and find out every fuckin detail and scrape the dirt bag clean away from her Governorship,” said Farrell. “It’s only day two.”
“Fuck,” said the Chief with a tiny smirk. “Blacky will be making her cry again.”
Saint Michael’s Hospital. Austin.
VINCE MILLS lay in his hospital bed with his eyes closed, his right hand attached to an IV pole and his left cuffed to the chrome bedrail.
“Morning, Mr. Mills,” said Blaine, standing next to the bed, “I’d like to ask you a few questions.”
“Get out of here. A fuckin cop shot me and I’m in no mood to talk to any more of you slimy fuckers.”
“You were shot running from an attempted armed robbery, Mr. Mills, and your pal shot at a police officer with witnesses present. The charges will get you a few years of alone time.”
“I asked for a PD.”
“If you asked, I’m sure one is on the way.”
“I’m not answering any of your stupid questions.”
“How do you know they’re stupid?”
“All cops ask stupid questions.”
“Your buddy is dead. Hope you weren’t too fond of him.”
“Fuck you.” Mills turned his head and glared at Blaine.
“Why were you after Reg Bromwell?”
“None of your business.”
“Did someone send you after him specifically?”
“None of your business.”
“I’m making it my business, Mr. Mills. I’ll find out who you work for and what the hell is going on, and then your whole world will come tumbling down.”
“Piss off.” Mills went back to staring at the wall.
Ranger Headquarters. Austin.
FARRELL left the Chief’s office and was crossing the lobby on his way out of the building when Mary caught up with him.
“I was hoping to see you this morning.”
“And here I am,” said Farrell. “Did you have fun yesterday?”
“I did. And thank you for taking me as your guest.”
“No problem. We’re still friends, Mary. We’ll always be friends.”
“I got to see a lot of the rooms inside the Capitol that I’d never seen before.”
“Do you have time for a coffee?” asked Farrell. “I’ve got about fifteen minutes before my next job.”
“Sure, I had another reason for wanting to see you anyway. Blaine didn’t tell me what to write about
the mugging.”
“Okay, we better discuss that. He might want you to keep on-going notes for something he’s going to blow open later.”
Mary smiled. “Ooh, I love it when he does that. I usually get a series of articles out of a long case and the readers love a series.”
“The people involved usually don’t love it too much,” said Farrell.
Powell and Associates. Downtown Austin.
SEVERAL clients waited in the elegantly appointed seating area inside the double glass doors of Powell and Associates and Blaine nodded to them in passing. He stopped at the reception desk, leaned down and whispered to Chantal, “I’ll be in my office. Send coffee and send Reg Bromwell to me right away.”
Chantal beamed a smile at him. A young girl with red hair and freckles, she was the best receptionist he could want. He liked to pay her well and keep her happy.
“Anything you need, sweetheart?”
“No, Mr. Powell, I don’t need anything. I’m happy to see you, though. It’s been a while.”
“It has been too long, you’re right. I should have been in before this to check on everything. This is Hammer, one of my crew.”
Hammer flashed her a smile. “Nice to meet you, Miss.”
On the second floor, Blaine punched the security code into the panel outside his office door. “Come on in. One of the girls will bring us coffee in a few, and in the meantime we can catch up. You missed a few things while you were off on leave with your shot foot.”
Hammer glanced around the room Blaine and Annie had decorated to replicate as closely as possible, Dave Powell’s original office that had been destroyed by a bomb in the first Powell building.
“Beautiful office, boss. Some nice antiques here.” He pointed to the sideboard.
“You know about antiques, Hammer?”
“Some. My Mom loves them, and we have a few pieces passed down to us.”
A knock on the door signaled the arrival of the coffee tray, and behind Stella was Reg Bromwell, looking a little more haggard than usual.
“You wanted to see me, boss?”
“Yeah, come on in and have a coffee, Reg. I won’t keep you long.”
Stella set the tray on the sideboard and left the office.