Carolina Mac [Mac - Backwater

CHAPTER ONE

Monday, June 15 th .

Seadrift, Texas.

BIG DAVE parked his dented Ford pickup and took stock of the shack he called home. A one-storey frame piece of shit rotting away on concrete blocks on the bank of the channel. Giant Cypress shaded his five acres and kept the temperature down by a degree or two, but it was still well over a hundred any day of the week. As soon as he got a few thou ahead, hed burn it down and start over. No insurance. Wasnt worth a fuckin nickel anyway.

He and his two buddies, Whitey Sweedo and Tennessee Taylor had opened a business, hiring out mud boats to fishermen and showing the tourists where the best fishing spots were in the backwater. The business werent too bad, but his new business was a helluva lot better. Thats where hed make the real money. Hed soon be moving up in the world.

Dave sauntered inside, threw down his smoke and ground it under his boot on the wooden kitchen floor. Nothing had changed. Tanya was a pig and she wallowed in her own filth. She lived to get high and never did a lick of work. The house stunk of garbage, puke and sweat and Big Dave felt sick every time he walked through the door.

It wasnt like this in the beginning. Meth turned his wife into somebody he couldnt even recognize anymore.

Anything to eat? he hollered and didnt expect an answer. Been up since dawn busting my ass and I could use a coffee if you could spare the time.

Tanya sauntered into the kitchen wearing nothing but a long tank top. The three-colored dye job shed seen in a magazine and tried to copy without too much success, hung in a tangled mess over her face. No food here. She sneered at him. Might be something in the fuckin cupboard if you gave me a few bucks for groceries, but you never do.

He shook his head at the sight of her. Twenty-five years old and she could pass for forty-five. Skinny as a fuckin rake like most users and she reeked of piss and vomit.

What does it matter to you? You dont eat anyway. All you care about is your next hit.

So what? You got product streaming out your fat ass now that you and your bffs are on steady with Delgato.

Delgato accounts for every fuckin ounce, Tanya. I cant supply you for free, even if I wanted to. And I dont. Look at the mess of yall.

Then buy me some all legal-like, said Tanya. You owe me. You know you do.

Get your lazy ass over to the rental office and for Christ sake clean yourself up before you go talk to any customers. You look like shit, woman.

You should talk, you fat asshole. I could smell your sweat the second you walked through the fuckin door.

I earned that sweat. I work for a living.

Tennessee smells better than you do.

How do you know that? Big Dave backhanded her across the face and sent her flying off the kitchen chair.

Ow, screamed Tanya. Ill get you for that.

Try it. Big Dave grabbed a Shiners out of the fridge and chugged half. He looked down at Tanya lying on the filthy floor crying and laughed at her. Heres one for the road. He kicked her in the ribs and stomped out the door.

Austin, Texas.

THE BLACKMORE AGENCY was on vacation. A forced vacay, but a vacation none the less. Blaine had capped a senators wife in the line of duty and his foster brother, Farrell, had shot the same senators son the next day as he came over the Agency fence to avenge his mothers death.

The powers that be were sorting it out, but until that time, Blaine and his crew were shut down.

Pack your stuff, hollered Blaine. Its hotter than hell on a Sunday in the city and were going to the Gulf.

Are we all going? asked Farrell.

Id say thats affirmative, said Blaine. The Chief wants me out of the city until the media calms down. Its not every day a senators wife gets her head blown off.

Farrell stood in front of the coffee maker in his boxers, black hand-tooled cowboy boots on his feet and a black Stetson covering his haystack of hair. You were totally in the right, bro. Dont matter who she was married to, the woman had a hostage and a knife in her hand. I dont think she was hitting on all her cylinders.

Blaine shrugged it off and filled his mug with more Panama blend. Is Mary coming?

Dunno, said Farrell. She might have to stay and wallow in the media muck. Its her job.

Wouldnt she rather wallow in the Caribbean?

I invited her, and I invited Neil.

Well, you cant do more than that, said Blaine. He pressed the Governors contact number and waited for her to answer.

Hey, sweetie, the Chief told me you were taking a week off and I concur. Its a good idea for you to make yourself scarce.

I rented a house on the Gulf and Im leaving in about an hour. If you need anything, call Jesse. He and the Chief are tidying up the little mess Farrell and I made.

Ive read some of the reports, and you acted properly. Mrs. Royce took an ATF agent hostage and she shot and killed one of the other agents. There were witnesses.

The senator is putting his own spin on things, said Blaine, and thats okay. Ill deal with him when I get back.

Or someone will deal with him for me.

Misty floated into the kitchen wearing cut off shorts and a red tank top. She filled the kettle to make tea and helped Carm with breakfast.

Are you packed, sweetheart? Blaine asked her.

All packed, but I havent packed the dogs stuff yet. Misty spread out her words in her soft Louisiana drawl. I need a cardboard box or something.

Uh huh. Ill get a box from the carriage house.

Carm glanced up from her favorite skillet and spewed out a long worrisome tale in Spanish.

Rick is going to feed the fish. Stop worrying, mi Corazon , he wont let them die.

Then came part two of her protest. There was her vegetable garden that she couldnt possibly leave. Not in the middle of June.

Blaine strode across the kitchen and put an arm around Carmelitas shoulder. She was like a mother to him and he wanted her to be happyalways. He wanted her to come on vacation to the Gulf, but he recognized how attached she was to the house and her garden. You dont have to go if you dont want to, he said in Spanish. You can stay here with Rick and Andy.