Slaughter (The Agency: Young Guns Book 5), page 11
“Uh huh. I can see where you’d be concerned. Lukas is in enough trouble already with the Eights after him.”
Annie called Travis hoping whatever he was up to had nothing to do with Lukas. He sounded sleepy when he answered his phone.
“Hey, Annie-girl.” The sound of his voice made her heart pound. She would never get over Travis. She couldn’t stop loving him and she had tried.
“Sorry if I woke you. Farrell told me you were asking about the Devils club in San Angelo. What’s that about?”
“Blacky and I have located the other two Donovan boys and I’m gonna try to get them out of the club or at least get close to them and let them know they have people to turn to if it all goes to shit.”
“That’s going to be dangerous. Lukas isn’t helping you, is he?”
“Maybe a little from the outside, but I haven’t told him the reason. He’ll be staying at my place and looking after the dogs.”
“While you go where?”
“I figure I’ll rent a trailer in the park where the boys are currently living up at Fisher Lake. I’m hoping it won’t take me too long to make contact and get this done.”
“You’re going under inside the club?”
“That’s my plan.”
“I wish you wouldn’t do that.”
“I’m doing it, girl. The wheels are already in motion.”
“Put my number in a burner. I want to hear from you every single day and I’m not kidding. Who are you going to be while you’re in the club? You can’t be Dale Burden.”
Travis laughed. “That would be a death wish. I’m thinking of a good new name for me. What do you think of Spyder Stone?”
“Huh. I’m not sure if that suits you.”
He laughed.
“Damn it, Travis, the thought of you doing this is making me nervous. I wish I could come over there and be closer to you while you were under.”
“You can always come visit me in my new dump at Fisher Lake. Think about it.”
“Yeah, I will consider it.”
“I’ll call if I need help. I promise.”
“Make sure you do. I can get help at a moment’s notice if you need it. Remember that.”
The Blackmore Agency. Austin.
Blaine made several calls trying to locate the stolen squad car and it seemed to have disappeared. Nobody had seen it. Highway patrol had no sightings of kids driving a county sheriff’s car.
“I’ve got to find those boys before Malcolm swings that fourth axe, but how am I going to do it? I could set up roadblocks if I knew an approximate area the kids were in, but I don’t know where they are.”
He blew out a breath and tried to concentrate on something else besides the case. He picked up the list Lily had compiled for the interviews. The resumes of the applicants were attached.
Blaine read over the names and was about to start reading through the resumes when Misty entered the office with a cup of tea in her hand.
“Hey, sweetheart. Come join me in my misery. The feds should be flying into town today and tomorrow they’ll take this case away from us. Calhoun is going to have a fuckin infarction.”
“I wish I could be more help, Beb. I don’t know where the boys are. I’ve tried to zero in on them and all I’m getting is a dark place. I can’t see where they are or any markers that would tell me what town they’re near. It’s too dark.”
“They’re hiding somewhere. Where could they be in a dark place?”
“I’ll try again later to see if they’ve moved,” said Misty. “I hate to see you stressing like this, Beb.”
“Calhoun is freaking over the feds. It’s trickling down to me.”
Ross Harley-Davidson. East Austin.
“I finally got through to my father,” said Laine. “There was so much rigamarole to even get to speak to him, it wore me out. The last cell number I had for him turned out to be no good.”
“Can he come to the wedding?” asked Adam.
“He’s not sure he can, but he wants to. He’s working on it and he’ll call as soon as he knows.”
“I hope he can make it,” said Farrell. “I want him there for you.”
“I apologized for not giving him more notice but it’s not like we knew ourselves.”
Farrell grinned. “I’m excited for the wedding and for our new place.” He turned to Adam. “Are you hyped for your new apartment?”
“Sure am. That is one great apartment and I can hardly wait to move in there. What is the official date we get the property?”
“July fifteenth,” said Laine. “Even that date was putting pressure on the lawyers to get it done, but Farrell is a little bit impatient.”
Adam raised a dark eyebrow. “I never noticed.”
Farrell laughed.
Austin Neurological Center.
Jesse sat beside Tyler’s bed and talked to him for half an hour trying to get him to remember who he was. He wondered about calling Scarlett and having her come to see if Tyler recognized her. Would she come or did she care enough about Tyler to make the effort?
When he got back to the ranch he planned to call her and at least let her know about Tyler’s condition. She could decide for herself if she wanted to see him or not.
If she loves him at all, she should come.
Pecan Creek.
Lukas and Travis were talking about the fight in the Sidewinders’ parking lot when the dogs barked and ran for the door. Travis wasn’t expecting anyone and he was always cautious. There were a lot of people out there who wanted to kill Dale Burden. He opened the door a crack and peered out into the darkness.
“Tommy’s truck.”
“My brother Tommy?” asked Lukas.
“That’s the one.”
Struggling with the crutches, Tommy squeezed through the door Travis was holding open for him.
“What happened to you, kid?”
“Shot. I got fuckin shot. Took me all day to drive here. I had to stop three fuckin times and rest my godammed leg. I am so pissed at that bitch, Montana. If she was doing her job this never would have happened.”
“Sit down,” said Travis. “I’ll get you a beer.”
“Hey, Tommy,” said Lukas. “Sorry you got shot.”
“Yeah, thanks. Thing is, I wasn’t going to sit around at home and be pissed off, when I could be hanging here with my brother.”
“That was a long drive with a bad leg,” said Lukas.
“Surgery to get the fuckin bullet out. It’s pretty sore.”
Travis shook his head. “You could’ve waited a few days. Lukas would still be here.”
“Neil wants me up in Arlington too,” said Tommy. “He went and bought that fuckin mansion of a house and he needs company. Probably sounds like a goddamned echo chamber.”
Travis laughed. “How big is the house?”
“Massive, Trav. You could get lost in there.”
“Does he have extra tickets for the games?” asked Lukas.
“Yeah. He’s gonna get me tickets. Why don’t you come with me, Lukas? We could have us a time at the ballpark.”
“Ummm… not sure if I can be away right now. Travis and I are kind of doing something here.”
“Like what?”
Lukas looked at Travis to see if he should say anything to Tommy.
Travis shook his head. “I might as well tell both of you at the same time why I’m going into the Devil’s club undercover.”
Tommy made a face. “Going under is tough.”
“Yeah, it can be,” said Travis.
“Why the hell would you do that, Trav?” asked Tommy. “This another Dale Burden thing where you bring down the club and get a price stuck on your fuckin head for the rest of your wasted life?”
“Something like that, but the Devils are not the Black Breed. Not even close. Compared to the Breed, the Devils are pussies. This is going to be much safer and easier—but not easy.”
“Why are you doing it?” asked Tommy. “You have to have a reason. You got nothing to do with the Devils. They’re a fuckin scum club and always have been. Ever since Farrell rode with them.”
“I’ve got a reason,” said Travis. “And it concerns both of you.”
“What’s the reason?” asked Lukas. “Why would it have anything to do with me and Tommy?”
“The reason is, Blacky found your other two brothers that Jett sold. They are in the Devils and I’m going in there to try to get to know them and get them out before they get fuckin dead.”
“You’re doing this for me and Lukas?”
“That’s right. And for Rob and Perry and Linc. I didn’t get to save any of them and I should have tried harder.”
“Why didn’t anybody tell me there were two more of my brothers that Jett fuckin sold?” Tommy tried to get up but he couldn’t do it. He winced in pain and flopped back onto his chair with a groan. “Jesus, I’m a fuckin mess.”
“Because there was no point telling you or Lukas and getting y’all upset if we couldn’t find them. It took Blacky and Kamps time to trace them from when they were born and who they were sold to. Like that.”
“Yeah, it would be hard,” said Tommy.
“Right now their names are Glen and Dean Smith. They don’t know any different. They have no idea they are Donovans and we’re not going to run into the bar and tell them either. Slow and easy so we don’t scare them off.”
“But why do you have to go undercover in the club?” asked Tommy.
“Because Blacky says Dean is behind on his dues and Glen is a prospect soon to be a member. They’ve got no seniority and if we mess up and cause a problem, Santana will just eliminate them. That’s what he’s known for—eliminating any problems inside his club.”
“Where do they hang?” asked Tommy.
“Sidewinders,” said Lukas. “We been going there every night and watching the members. Tonight we’re riding our Harleys because we met a guy that might sponsor Travis in. Travis is going to talk to him.”
“I want to go,” said Tommy.
“You and Lukas can sit together, but stay out of it,” said Travis. “I don’t want you,” he pointed at Tommy, “in my way.”
“Won’t happen,” said Tommy. “Spectator only.”
“They’ll know you’re a cop,” said Lukas. “You got that cop look.”
“I’ll fake it,” said Tommy. “I’m not going to look like a cop tonight. I’ll just look like some poor asshole who got himself shot.”
Lukas laughed at his little brother.
Sidewinders. San Angelo.
Tommy left his crutches at the house and rode in the bitch seat on Travis’s bike. Travis made him get off at the front door and walk in separately so he wasn’t connected to him or Lukas.
Travis and Lukas parked their bikes behind the building and entered from the back.
Tommy went in the front door and sat down in an empty booth. Trying not to look like a cop in a biker bar, he pulled his hoodie up, waved a waitress over and ordered a pitcher of Shiners.
He watched Lukas come in ahead of Travis. Lukas saw him and came and sat down. Travis picked a table farther back and sat down alone.
“You think this is gonna work?” asked Tommy.
Lukas shrugged. “Don’t know. I don’t know what our brothers look like. Travis didn’t tell me the reason he was doing this. I never heard dick-all about them until tonight.”
“We had a filthy bastard for an old man,” mumbled Tommy. “All I ever wanted to do was beat the piss out of him. Should have done it sooner than I did.”
“How old were you when you beat him up?”
“Eighteen. I was big enough and strong enough to take him down by then. I beat him hard as I could and pounded him into the floor of our shit trailer. Left him lying in his own blood. I took my stuff and left the trailer that day—right that minute. I never went back. I went to Austin and Farrell helped me scrape a life together.”
He waved the server over for another pitcher and a glass for Lukas. He hadn’t eaten for hours and he was starving. “You want food?”
Lukas shook his head. “I’m okay.”
Tommy ordered a burger and fries. Glanced towards the back of the bar to see what Travis was doing.
“Can you see him?” asked Lukas.
“Yeah, he’s sitting by himself. Guess he’s waiting to talk to the Sawyer guy.”
“We helped Sawyer Kidd when he was getting the piss pounded out of him,” said Lukas, “just so he would know Travis, and Travis would have a way into the club. Hope it works.”
The boys watched and it wasn’t long before Kidd sat down with Travis and they had a little chat.
“Can you see our brothers over there at the club table?” asked Lukas.
“Yep, there are two guys who are definitely Donovans over there drinking. Both of them have straight blond hair like Farrell. Not curly like mine and Neil’s and not a bit darker like yours and Lincoln’s.”
“They might not like us messing in their lives,” said Lukas. “I didn’t like it at first. Scared the shit out of me.”
“Guess we’ll find out,” said Tommy. “Travis seems struck on doing this thing.”
“Why?” asked Lukas. “I don’t get what the reason is.”
“A couple times the Breed have come after Travis and almost finished him. My brothers, our brothers, Rob, and Perry—both pricks and I didn’t like them much—they took care of Travis and his dogs when he was in hiding and he was beat up so fuckin bad he couldn’t move. And after that, they always took care of Travis and he took care of them. Just the way it was.” Tommy shrugged.
Chapter Eleven
Monday, June 5th.
The Blackmore Agency. Austin.
Blaine hadn’t had time to enjoy his first cup of coffee before the Chief was on the phone worrying about the arrival of the feds.
“They’re on their way, son. I received the call telling me to expect them today.”
“Let me know when you want me,” said Blaine. “Have they given you an E.T.A?”
“The Special Agent in Charge, I forget his name for the moment, said first thing Monday morning.”
“Okay, I’ll be there at nine. Save me a seat.”
“Jeeze, I’m not looking forward to this.”
Blaine ended the call thinking Calhoun sounded stressed. “He’s going to have an infarction one of these days.”
Coulter-Ross Ranch. La Grange.
Annie sat in her office with a cup of coffee and read over the resumes Lily had emailed to her. They had received so many applications from qualified people the first time they put an ad on the violent crime website, they didn’t have to advertise for more.
She wasn’t sure about hiring more female cops because they seemed to leave more quickly than the boys she had hired. Could be considered discrimination, but it was a fact. Montana was a great cop but she chose to be with Neil—who wouldn’t? Gillette was a great cop but she was carrying so much baggage she could no longer function in her job. There had been others.
This time Lil hadn’t chosen any female applicants and Annie was relieved to see it. One less thing to worry about.
After going over each resume carefully, she got ready to drive to the station on Airport Road. She would use the office there to do the interviews.
Almost ready to leave, her cell rang and it was Blaine. “Can’t make it, Mom. I’ve got to be in the Chief’s office with the feds at the same time as the interviews.”
“No problem, sugar. I can handle it on my own.”
“Call Farrell to sit in. He should be familiar with the new people coming on board anyway.”
“Sure. I’ll call him now. Laine should be there to listen in too. She’ll have to work with the new people.”
“Yep, considering her new position, she should be there.”
Annie called Farrell to see if he and Laine could make it. “Hey, sugar, Blaine is going to be tied up with the Chief and the feds this morning. Can you and Laine join me for the interviews?”
“What time is the first one?”
“Nine-thirty at VCS headquarters.”
“We’ll be there,” said Farrell.
Ross Harley-Davidson. East Austin.
Laine listened to Farrell talking to his mother and when the call ended, she asked, “Where are we going to be?”
“At VCS for the interviews. Blacky can’t come because the fuckin feds are closing in on the axe murderer case—calling it a serial—and the Chief needs him to take the pressure off. Mom is hiring two new people and she wants us there for our input.”
“That makes sense,” said Laine. “I’d like to meet the new guys if I’m going to be assigning them their work.”
Farrell smiled at her. “Go get ready.”
Ranger Headquarters. Austin.
When Blaine got to headquarters, the feds had already descended and Chief Calhoun was meeting with them in the boardroom on the second floor.
Blaine took the elevator—stairs weren’t his friend anymore—tapped on the door and let himself in. He found himself facing three guys in dark suits and one sour-faced woman dressed in black. Her hair was pulled so tightly back into a bun, her eyes had narrowed.
She’s the profiler. Jesus, she looks mean. We don’t need her. We don’t need any of them.
Blaine looked away from her and greeted Calhoun. “Morning Chief.”
Calhoun made the introductions. “This is Special Agent in charge, Kevin Oldham.” The Chief went around the table. “Special Agent Peterson Nash, Special Agent Richard Norville and Special Agent Amanda Labanovich, who is a profiler from Quantico.”
He turned to Blaine. “This is Ranger Blaine Blackmore, head of Violent Crime for Texas. The case you’re interested in is currently his.”
Blaine shook hands all around, not particularly happy to meet any of them. Especially not Labanovich who would be foisting her stilted opinions on the rest of them at her earliest convenience.
He had worked with enough profilers in the past to realize the tried and true formula they were ingrained with at Quantico only held true for a small percentage of serial killers. And it certainly had no place in dealing with disturbed juveniles.
