Chapter 9
Asher recognized the wisdom of Nora’s request. They had nothing in the way of evidence that pointed to anyone, or a reason for why it had happened. Time was not on their side, so it was with reluctance that he took her home.
He carried her bag into the house, then followed her down the hall to her bedroom.
“Just leave it on the bed, love. I’ll deal with it all later,” she said, then wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him until he groaned.
“Will you promise to text me now and then just to reassure me that you are okay?” he asked.
“I promise. Go find the bad guys, and keep me in the loop with Jacob’s progress,” she said, then walked him to the door.
As soon as he walked out, she locked the door, then stood at the window, watching him drive away before she retrieved her laptop and settled down to work.
* * *
By the time Asher got home, Gunner was dressed and in the kitchen, working on his second bowl of cereal.
“Morning, bro,” Asher said.
“Take off your coat and sit,” Gunner said. “Dylan unloaded some interesting info this morning while you were draining the hot water tank.”
“About the case?” Asher asked.
“It’s about that bombshell comment Dad made regarding Pearl,” Gunner said. “It is not going to endear you any further to Brenda, but it’s an eye-opener as to her moral fiber.”
Asher frowned. “She already darkened her own memory for all of us, but enlighten me, anyway.”
“I’ll hit the high points. Brenda and Pearl were friends.
Dad and Pearl were in a serious relationship.
Brenda wanted Dad, so she told Pearl some horrific lie about him, and they broke up.
Dad was crushed but never knew why she quit him.
Then Brenda makes a play for him months later, and over time I guess Dad gives up on Pearl, and he and Brenda marry.
When Asher is two, Brenda gets drunk on New Year’s Eve and blurts out the whole story.
Dad is horrified, but like he told Dylan, it was too late…
water under the bridge. He never said anything to Pearl, and to his knowledge, she never knew the truth. ”
Asher shook his head in disgust. “What a bitch. And at the same time, she didn’t fall short on motherhood because I know she loved us… Just not enough to give up her wild ways.”
“She was the worm in the apple of my life, and FYI, the files I requested from the FBI regarding the armed car robbery arrived in my email. We’re going to be doing a whole lot of reading for a while.”
“Great,” Asher said. “Remind me… What was it you found out from the prison warden where Pete Brandt died?”
“He rarely had visitors. None the last five years until the warden notified next of kin that he didn’t have long to live. At that point, his two sons showed up. They visited briefly and Brandt was the one to end the visit and send them away.”
Asher nodded. “Okay. I have seen files on the robbery before, and if I remember, Brandt said in his statement that he’d been the one to hide the money, and he wasn’t talking. Double-check that for me when you’re going through the files.”
“Will do. What are you gonna do?” Gunner asked.
“Run background on Brandt’s sons. Maybe something will pop.”
Satisfied that they had the beginnings of their investigations mapped out, they settled down to work.
* * *
Everett Brandt woke up in a mood. His neck was on the line here, and he still didn’t know anything more about Kingston other than he’d survived the surgery and was in ICU. It was clearly old news because there was nothing more being reported about him or the investigation.
Freddie had already eaten his way through half the groceries they’d brought home, which aggravated him even more.
Added to that, there was a storm front heading this way with temps below freezing.
He was still antsy about Kingston, and made a knee-jerk decision to call the hospital, but he wasn’t going to use his cell phone.
He had a burner with some minutes still on it, and went to his bedroom where it was quieter to make the call.
The call went straight to the switchboard, and a woman answered.
“Northwest Texas Hospital. How may I direct your call?”
“I’m inquiring about a patient’s status. Would that be registration?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said. “One moment please.”
A few seconds later, another female answered. “NTH, Abby speaking. How can I help you?”
“I was calling for an update on the status of a patient. His name is Jacob Kingston. Is he still in ICU or has he been moved to a regular room?”
“I can’t give specifics, but he’s still in ICU.”
“Right… Sure… I understand. Thank you for this much,” he said, and disconnected. “So, if he’s still in ICU, he’s not improving,” Everett muttered. “I’ll take that as a plus.”
He tucked the burner into the back of a drawer beneath his socks, and turned up the thermostat on his way back to the living room.
What he didn’t know was that Asher had left word at the front desk not to give out any information about his father’s welfare, and to notify him if there were calls. While Everett was patting himself on the back for his bit of detective work, the receptionist was calling a real detective.
* * *
The two Kingston brothers were ensconced within the warmth of their kitchen as they worked. The room was mostly silent, but for a clock ticking on the wall. A second pot of coffee was brewing as they sat making notes from the background searches, and the requested FBI files.
Finally, Asher looked up. “Brandt was married at the time of the robbery and the only member of that gang who had kids. One other man, who is now deceased, was married at the time. That wife has since divorced him and moved to Florida. They had no children. One gang member is still alive and in prison. He’s the one who was shot during the robbery and ratted out the rest of the gang while he was in the hospital. No next of kin.”
Gunner frowned. “It could be coincidence that this happened to Dad on the heels of Brandt’s death, but it doesn’t feel like it.
There is nothing random about choosing to kill a man who owns a bar, in a little town, in the middle of nowhere.
No thief would assume there were any large sums of money in any of these businesses.
I know the lack of law in Crossroads would be tempting, but why the kill shot when you’re only intent on robbery? ”
“And yet there was no robbery attempt,” Asher said, and then his phone rang. He glanced at Caller ID and frowned. “It’s the hospital. I’m putting it on Speaker,” he said, then answered. “Asher Kingston speaking.”
“Mr. Kingston, this is Carla, the receptionist at the information desk at NTH. You asked me to notify you if anyone called for information about your father.”
Asher glanced at Gunner. “Yes! Are you saying someone called?”
“Yes, sir, about five minutes ago. It was a man. He didn’t give me a name. He just asked if Jacob Kingston was still in ICU or if he’d been moved to a room.”
“What did you tell him?” Asher asked.
“That he was still in ICU, as you requested.”
“Thank you, Carla. I know there’s a chance he’ll be moved out soon, but we don’t want that known until we’ve arrested the people responsible for trying to kill him, so letting the public believe he’s still in ICU is the best protection he can have at the moment.
Let me know if you get any further calls. ”
“Yes sir, I will,” Carla said, and hung up.
“Well now,” Gunner said.
Asher nodded. “That call didn’t come from a concerned friend of Dad’s, because everybody here in town goes to Pearl for information, or asks us when we’re out and about. They wouldn’t cold-call the hospital. Somebody is antsy about him still being alive.”
Gunner reached for his laptop and logged into the police database. “What are the names of Pete Brandt’s sons?”
Asher read back through his notes. “Everett and Freddie, both last names Brandt.”
Gunner nodded, typed in the names. “They both have priors. Last known address on Everett is Fort Worth. Last known address on Freddie is Mansfield, which is a suburb of Dallas. We have their mug shots. What if Dylan showed those mug shots to Dad?”
“We have nothing to lose. Do it,” Asher said. “While you’re sending those to Dylan, I’m going to check the DMV to see if they own cars or trucks, and what kind.”
* * *
Dylan was at the hospital, standing in the hall outside his dad’s new room, waiting for the nurses to get him settled. Moving him out of ICU was a relief, because it meant he was getting better. And, that he was no longer limited to ten-minute visits once an hour.
He wondered what was happening back in Austin, and if the crews were all showing up on time, and how many orders had been delayed or back-ordered.
Building a house was one thing, but constructing whole housing additions took an assembly-line mindset, with attention to fine details and good work crews.
And his business would be going to hell right now were it not for Angie.
He missed her like crazy, but he couldn’t not be here.
Their dad was everything to them, and there had to be a reckoning with this atrocity.
He was still standing in the hall when his phone signaled a text. It was from Gunner.
These mug shots are of Pete Brandt’s sons. Show them to Dad, but don’t tell him who they are. We want to know if he recognizes them. If he doesn’t, then that means we’re looking in the wrong direction for the shooters. Let me know yea or nay ASAP.
Looking at the faces of those men made Dylan’s skin crawl, then he sent a response.
They’ve moved Dad into a private room. I’m waiting in the hall for them to get him settled. Let you know as soon as possible.
A short while later, the last nurse exited Jacob’s new room, and Dylan went in, closing the door behind him.
Jacob was exhausted by all of the relocating, and it showed.
“Dad, are you okay?”
Jacob nodded. “Just trying to find a comfortable spot, and waiting for the pain shot to kick in.”