《Sixguns and Spellfire》Chapter Eleven

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Agent Ruthersford and I got back in his car. “How about we swing by that warehouse and take a little look-see,” I suggested.

He pointed the car north and we headed out. It was a short drive, Loretta was right, it wouldn’t have been much out of her way to work. The warehouse and its outbuildings encompassed an entire city block. We circled the property slowly. It was surrounded by an eight-foot chain-link fence topped with razor wire. The fencing looked old but the razor wire looked newer. The front gate was closed and padlocked. Several sections of the fence had vines growing on them and several others had a plastic backing installed that prevented us from getting a good look. The sections that we could see were dark and silent.

“Well, what do you think?” Teddy asked me.

“Seems a little odd to me. The barbed wire was new. The fence was in really good repair for it being abandoned. Usually, the locals will cut their way in to loot scrap metal or at least vandalize. I didn’t see any obvious signs of entry, did you?”

“No, it seemed locked up tight.”

“Can I make a suggestion, partner?” The word felt strange on my lips. I’d never had a partner before.

“That’s why you are here, Agent Renshaw.” Teddy smiled brightly.

“I assume we have access to the usual. Tax records, utility records, NCIC, CRIMENET.”

“Of course.”

“Then tomorrow morning, we should do a little digging on the computer. Then after we give all the dopers some time to wake up. We should have us an old-fashioned stakeout.”

“Stakeout? You mean watch the building? We could put up some pole cameras. Sitting out here looking at an old, dirty building doesn’t seem like the best use of our time.”

“Yeah, we can put up the cameras too, but nothing beats eyes on the prize. This is our best lead, and unless you know something you aren’t telling me, our only lead.”

Teddy chewed his lip. “You might be right. There are certain, supernatural ways to defeat cameras. Fooling a person is more difficult. Very well. Back to the office? We should probably call it a day.”

I glanced at my watch. It was after four. “Sounds good, Teddy. Home Jeeves!” I leaned back in my seat.

Agent Ruthersford sighed and put the Bentley in drive. “Don’t do that.”

***

The ride back to the office was uneventful. Teddy dropped me off at my new car and promised to meet me in the morning.

I checked out my new ride. A set of keys lay on the front seat. The back seat and trunk were full of gear. I saw my gun box and rifle bag as well as a ballistic vest and a new gear bag. There was a leather folio with the Bureau logo embossed on the cover. A handwritten note was stuck to the front with a piece of scotch tape.

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Special Agent Renshaw,

I put together this folio for you. It contains all your logins and passwords to the various computer systems as well as your parking permit and assigned parking spot information. You’ll also find your gym locker ID and combination. I’m sure you will need it (smiley face) It was a pleasure to meet you today and I look forward to working together in the future. Please don’t hesitate to give me a call if you need anything.

Special Regards,

Tina

The note ended with what I assumed was her personal cell phone number and the imprint of her lips in lipstick. I noticed that all the eyes were dotted with hearts. This girl was not wasting any time. Or maybe she was like this with all the new agents. I was familiar with the type, cop groupies, holster-sniffers, they weren't uncommon. It struck me as odd that the admin would be so assertive though.

I got in and pushed the start button. The engine roared to life with a throaty growl. I couldn’t suppress a smile as I revved the engine a few times. I may have bent a few speeding suggestions on the way home. It reminded me of my first day at the police academy. The instructors went around and asked everyone why they wanted to be a cop. Most recruits gave an answer about wanting to help people or protect those who couldn't protect themselves. One recruit answered, “I wanna drive fast and shoot guns.” He did extra push-ups for a week, but I think the instructors actually appreciated his honesty. I figured he had the driving fast part right. I didn’t go crazy though. I was sure I was being monitored three ways from Sunday. Uncle Sam didn’t give you the keys to a hundred thousand dollar car and not keep his eye on you, magical mojo or not.

As I pulled down my street, I noticed a familiar car parked in the street out front. John had finally gotten fed up with me ignoring his calls and made a personal appearance. I parked the Wildcat in my garage next to my Camry. John was waiting inside, sitting in my favorite easy chair.

“You’re a tough man to get a hold of these days.” John stood up as I entered.

“Didn’t feel much like talking, I guess. Bourbon?”

He nodded. “I can understand that, but I reckon you owe me some explanation ‘bout why you disappeared like a fart in the wind.”

Went over to my bar and poured us both three fingers of Bulleit 10-year. I handed one to John and took a long sip. “I reckon, you’re right.”

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“Jesus Christ Cash, you coming back from the cowboy convention?” he pointed his glass toward my midsection

.

I looked down at the low-slung pistols at my hips. In the six hours since I got them, I had forgotten I was wearing them. It had already become second nature to me. “I got a new gig.”

“Trick shooting?”

I rotated a bit so that John could see my new badge.

“The Department of Homeland Security issued you, what are those, Colt Peacemakers?”

“Ruger New Vaqueros, actually. And yes, they did. I am as surprised as you. But I wasn’t going to say ‘No thanks'”.

“Bullshit. I know DHS guys and they get Sigs or Glocks like everyone else.”

I took another drink and noticed my glass was empty. “I’m in a special Bureau, I don’t think I am really supposed to talk about it.”

John stared at me with wide eyes. “You aren’t supposed to talk about it. With me? You know I have Top Secret clearance. Right?”

I gave him a thin-lipped smile. “If you’re asking about the Rugers, I think there might be another level above Top Secret.” I’m man enough to admit I enjoyed that one.

John sputtered through his sip of bourbon. “There isn’t another level. What the hell are you talking about Cash?”

“Did your transfer go through yet?” It was a stab in the dark, but the expression that flashed across John’s face at the question told me I was on the mark.

“Yes.” Now his glass was empty.

“Homicide?”

“No, it’s a Joint Task Force with Homeland. Buncha ATF and DEA guys. Major Crime Initiative, they call it.”

“And how long have they been after you?”

“Couple months, what does that matter?”

“I’m not a child you need to look after, John. I never asked you to pass up opportunities.”

“You’re my goddamned best friend, you son of a bitch. I wasn’t going to abandon you. Not in the state you were in.” Our voices were rising.

“So you backdoored me into a demotion, so you could transfer with a clear conscience?”

“Look, none of that was my idea, OK?”

“But you didn’t disagree, did you? Jesus John, you could have at least told me.”

“What was I supposed to tell you? Hey Cash, you are really shitting the bed, maybe you should go pass out turkeys and teddy bears?” We were yelling now.

I didn’t respond. I didn’t have a response. He wasn’t wrong.

“Look man, I am not mad, OK. Hell, I would have quit too. In your shoes. But you don’t freeze out your best homie when things get weird.” His voice was level again.

I took his glass and refilled both of them. “You’re right.” I sighed. “I was being a punk-ass. I just didn’t want to have this conversation. You know, feelings and shit.”

“Right? Well, we needed to have it. Now we can put it behind us.”

“Already forgotten.” We touched glasses.

We bullshitted for hours. John was really excited about his new gig. They were going after some big fish, maybe even doing some shit with the Mexicans. It sounded like the second coolest job around. I told him as much as I could about my new position without destroying his worldview. He was very skeptical, and I don’t think he believed me. That there was some secret department in DHS that he didn’t know about. But eventually, he gave up asking and just accepted it. I was acting like the old me. Pre-fire. I felt like equals again instead of the baby brother. John was in turns relieved and ecstatic at the change and was determined not to ruin the mood. The night stretched out and before I knew it, it was time to leave. We both had work in the morning, after all. We said our goodbyes and John made me promise to start answering the phone. He left with an enormous smile on his face. That smile made me realize that I hadn’t seen him happy much recently. The care and feeding of a Cash Renshaw was apparently a full-time job.

I cranked out a few sets of push-ups and pull-ups before hitting the sack. Rightfully, I should have been scared out of my mind. I had just found out that magic was real. Werewolves were real. Vampires. Well, you get it. But I wasn’t scared. I felt energized. A whole other world lay before me. One where I didn’t have to carry the guilt of what happened to my wife and daughter around like a millstone. One where I had the opportunity to set things to rights. For justice.

I slept like a baby.

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