They had followed the late model, silver, Ford F-250 weaving slowly through the late night inner city streets, until taking the on ramp to I-37 South. Speed limit all the way. Parker Davis called in the plates and they didn’t have to wait long.
She read from the dash screen to Morrison with Ramirez listening in the other car, so they could concentrate on driving. The two unmarked cars were miked and synced up. A dispatcher was linked in as well, with audio in addition to communication on the screen
Her face was illuminated by the array of green dash lights and monitor. “Plates are registered to Landry Allen Brandt. White Male. 35. Two priors. Once for deviant assault of a male in 2015, once for pandering in 2020. Deviant charge dropped by D.A., witness recanted. Found guilty on the pandering charge. Spent 3 years at the Connally Unit. Nothing since he got out 2 years ago.”
Morrison glanced over at Davis and she thought he almost looked relaxed while following a truck they couldn’t afford to lose. “Now, he’s just pure as the driven snow, right?”
“Right.” Parker nodded, her eyes sliding back out the windshield to the distant truck taillights ahead. She was glad it was well after midnight now and the traffic was relatively light. Allowed them to follow at a distance.
Morrison and Parker were in the middle lane, as was the silver F-250. Ramirez was a little further back, in the right hand lane in case of a quick exit by the truck.
Hector’s monotone voice cut in. “Dispatch, we are approaching the 410 Loop, still southbound on 37.”
“Copy that.” The female dispatcher’s voice was calm and matter of fact. “Be advised Lieutenant Ramirez, the requested shadow car will join you heading south at the 410 interchange. Squad car is marked and will remain a safe distance back. As you requested, shadow car will rely on my directions and will not engage in any way unless instructed.”
Hector acknowledged. “Copy, dispatch.”
Morrison cleared his throat. “So, what do we have going on here people?”
There was a moment before anyone spoke.
“I’ll go first.” Parker’s voice sounded tired but determined. “Can’t be sure we got the red bow tie killer but we sure got something goin’ on. Pretty obvious they drugged that girl for a purpose, not like they can’t get any strange on their own. I’m thinking where they go, will say a lot. I mean hey, If they roll up to a private home, instead of an apartment or hotel, it’s game on and the timer is ticking.”
From the lead car up ahead, Hector was next. “Yup. If this is really it, the stop will be key. The kill, in all of these, is always done somewhere else than where the body is found. And wherever that spot is…almost a cinch to be loaded with evidence. We need that kill spot.”
“Yeah, I’m going all the way in though. Red bow tie all day long. Wyatt had this pinned at that meeting suggesting a duo. It’s fuckin’ them and this points a finger right at poor little, scared Carmen. I remember feeling bad that we played her. Shit, she was playing us. Otherwise, what’s she even doing with this guy? Know what I mean?” Morrison stopped talking.
No one filled the void, so he continued on. “I think we got ourselves a serial killer team, is what I think. Just like Wyatt was talking about at our meeting. Maybe she’s the leader, maybe he is. Who the fuck knows? The stud cowboy is most likely gay due to the deviant assault on the male, may explain the non-traditional rapes and lack of semen. Landry is a pretty boy, he might be used as bait by Carmen, or he might just get his jollies helping her out. I dunno, maybe they both strangle and torture but whatever their power structure is doesn’t really matter. I’m feeling this is it. For sure. No doubts.”
“So, Creepy guy was all just made-up bullshit by Carmen?” Parker’s question wasn't really a question, and she knew it. “We’ve been trying to find a guy who doesn’t exist.”
“Looks like it, Parker.” Ramirez was trying to hold his anger back. “You had left the room already Dan, but I remember Carmen’s comment to me at the end of our good cop, bad cop interview. She said the creepy guy told them that his favorite routine by Maggie was the one where all she wore was a red bow tie at the end. But that was actually all her, or our cowboy. She even admitted that she thought it was hot…I just didn’t connect it, or her.”
Both cars fell silent, but not for long. Dispatch came back on. “Detectives Ramirez and Davis, be advised that the shadow car is in place and now behind you on I-37 South.”
“Copy that.”
Parker leaned forward in the passenger seat and called it out loud before the truck had even begun to start changing lanes. “Right turn signal Hector, watch him Dan.”
“Yup, I got him. He’s got the 1604 exit in about a mile and a half. We’ll see what he does Hec.”
Long, silent seconds went by before Morrison spoke again. “Still on 37 South. Repeat Hec, silver Ford F-250 did not exit onto 1604.”
Parker Davis looked at the displayed map on the split screen. “Next exit is Sandy Oaks. Little rural town. Comin’ up here quick.”
“I’m going to give him some more room, he’s slowing down a little.” Morrison’s eyes were glued to the truck up ahead. As soon as he said that the truck’s turn signal went on and then took the off ramp.
Davis announced it to Ramirez and dispatch. Morrison slowed even more, watching the truck go up a gradual incline and come to a stop, right turn signal still on. It began to turn right onto a frontage road, away from tiny Sandy Oaks, as Morrison exited the interstate and slowed again. The truck lights could be seen easily out here so he let the gap between them grow even more.
For five more dark miles they followed, well behind the truck. Quiet miles too, communication was at a minimum because all three detectives knew where this was all headed at some point and they were girding themselves for it. Exactly how it would play out they didn’t know but they knew one way or another it would end tonight.
Before Morrison had made detective, he’d known an older cop named Reed Parmenter that lived out this way, years ago. Out here, there were just small ranches and a few lonely subdivisions. Being near enough, but far enough away from San Antonio was exactly what some people, including Parmenter, ever wanted. The cop was quiet and a bit of a loner, but they had gotten along well. Morrison had come out to visit him a few times to drink a few, shoot the shit and talk about the job.
The cop had owned a couple of acres and at night, out on his back porch all you could hear were the coyotes and all you could see were the stars. Morrison remembered it being blacker than black. It was that way tonight too.
When the truck’s brake lights finally blinked on and off, and then on yet again, Morrison did not apply the brake but took his foot off the accelerator. “He’s gonna turn sure as shit.” He thumbed out his side window.
“What?” Parker glanced into the darkness that was lit only by their headlights.
“Pipe fence just started. Not cheap. Change of property probably. If he turns left it’ll be this ranch.”
The truck’s brake lights were still on and then the headlights began to sweep left through the pitch-black night. “Left off of Old Staley Road.” Parker’s voice was hushed and tense.
“I’m going to go right on by at a regular speed, looks like small stone pillars and a front entrance of some sort up ahead, where he turned. As we go by, get a name or number, ranch name or just anything if you can Parker. Hec, kill your lights now and pull up short. Sound good?”
Ramirez immediately replied. “Yeah, already stopping. Lights out. Dispatch, instruct shadow car to approach lights out and wait at my vehicle.”
They watched the truck pause and then open a front gate remotely from a code box. It headed up a long lane, maybe 500 feet before the headlights finally illuminated a darkened ranch house surrounded by a stand of trees, and then started to circle around to the back of the house.
With Parker leaning over the console, Morrison cruised by at an even, steady speed. The electronic gate was just closing. Once they had passed he took his foot off the gas again, letting the car coast. After about a quarter of a mile, he killed the lights and they had slowed considerably.
“Old faded letters on the overhead cross timber…sign, pretty sure it said Double D Ranch. Repeat dispatch. Double D Ranch, Old Staley Road.”
“Hold on, I’m going to use the emergency brake to stop us completely.” Morrison tried to apply it slowly but there was still a slight lurch forward as the car came to a stop.
Hector’s voice was next. “We’re going to have to go in on foot. There is no telling how much time we have. We’re gambling with someone’s life. Whoever gets to the gate first waits. We wait until all of us are there before we go in. Let’s move.”
Ramirez got to the gate just ahead of Morrison and Davis. He crouched behind one of the stone pillars for the gate and pulled his service Glock, checking the clip. In the darkness he heard a whisper of long grass and saw a dark-on-dark outline of two figures approaching from the road. Morrison and Davis joined him behind the pillar.
“Whaddya think Hec? All three of us through the front door? Front and back? You call it.” It was so dark Ramirez couldn’t see the faces of Morrison or Davis. “It’s a circular drive around back to a garage or the back door at least.”
“I’ll go around back in case they try to bolt. Parker, you and Dan go to the front door. We’ve got no warrant but enough probable cause. Start out with ‘just want to ask some questions’, that kinda thing. They’re gonna know the gig is up this late at night, but we’ll have surprise on our side. Don’t hesitate, when you see the opportunity make your move inside.”
“Bring the shadow guys in?” Parker broke in. “Might as well.”
“Yeah, yeah you’re right. Dispatch you copy? Send the officers from the shadow car to the house as backup on the perimeter.” Ramirez waited for the response but none came.
“Dispatch?”
Morrison spoke up. “We lose her, Hec?”
Only static scratched over the com, then finally came the response. “Copy. Affirmative, sending them in now.”
Ramirez shifted to the other knee and looked at the house, which now had several lights on inside. “Alright…go through the pipe fencing, gate might be alarmed. Let’s roll. Time is short.”
Tense ...
You've got the suspense cranked up to unbearable, Jim. Perfect ending to this chapter. I'm going to hate to have this end. I really like the characters and their interactions with each other.