Run In With The Law: The Austin trilogy, #1

By T. D. Courtland

Travis Austin was a man used to keeping things straight forward and simple. In his world he had the money and power to make things happen with a mere phone call or a spoken word. He ran his world of five star hotels with an iron fist and his reputation was all but legendary.  But that was his public image; not the real man. In actuality he struggled from day to day keeping up the façade but inside he was lonely and hurting from the loss of his wife and daughter taken from him on nine eleven. He had no idea that a mere phone call was going to change all that. Going through the loss of his mother would open a door that would show him a different path. A path filled with unexpected love and compassion from a most unexpected source, the woman that wrote him a speeding citation!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Wings ePress, Inc.
• Release date: Jul 20, 2023
• ISBN: 9781613090602

Book preview

Dedication

This work of inspirational fiction is lovingly dedicated to my beloved wife Mary.

You always stood beside me and told me I could do it. I love you with all I am.

T.D.C.

One

Travis Austin leaned back in his plush leather chair and placing his hands behind his head, stretched out his six-foot plus frame as he attempted to work out the kinks in his shoulders. He scanned the pages and smiled. He’d felt compelled, almost driven in fact, to get these final chapters finished, pushing himself without mercy.

Locked away for hours on end in his den, he paused only to grab an occasional sandwich; a quick shower served to revive him and refocus the characters in his head. It had worked. Now he looked around, surveying the chaos his marathon writing session had created. The place looked as if a small tornado had hit it. Reference books littered the floor; Styrofoam cups which hadn’t hit the wastebasket dribbled coffee on the polished hardwood floor and sticky notes decorated every surface.

Finishing a book was always the hard part for Travis. Creating a group of characters was easy, however getting them to interact in a logical yet unusual way was the challenge he lived for. He smiled wearily; the last three days of work had at last paid off. The love scene ending his second book about the McCoy brothers was finally complete.

He always struggled with steamy love scenes, especially when the characters were married. It brought back so many memories of the wonderful years he had spent with Carla, time that ended for them and their unborn daughter when Carla’s plane plowed into the north tower of the World Trade Center.

His first book of the trilogy had made the bestseller list in a matter of weeks after publication. The unexpected windfall allowed him to purchase this house, once owned by an oil baron. Dusty Springs, a tiny suburb of Fort Worth, Texas, was the perfect place for him to work away from the rest of the world, as he created his own. The series revolved about three brothers, triplets who worked to find hidden treasures secreted in remote areas.

From the deepest jungles of the Congo to the icy barren wastes of the arctic, these three men hacked and climbed their way from one hair-raising adventure to the next, evading smugglers, drug runners and crooks, outwitting corrupt tyrants and dictators to locate and retrieve riches and knowledge thought lost to civilization.

This last book found Brandon, the middle brother, falling in love with a dewy-eyed French Canadian female bush pilot. She’d whisked the three brothers out of danger mere seconds before a bomb destroyed the World War II German U-boat they had found frozen in the ice at the North Pole.

Their cargo plane, loaded with chests of gold bullion and jewels, had barely lifted from the ice flow when the explosives placed in the hull of the submarine by their arch-rivals had destroyed the vessel.

The epilogue had described the wedding of the two sweethearts and the first few moments of the ensuing honeymoon. Here Travis had tactfully ended the book, leaving the rest to the imagination of the reader.

Closing his eyes, Travis smiled in satisfaction as he finished reading the closing paragraph. It was without a doubt the best he had ever written; there was a deep sense of satisfaction in his heart, knowing he had once again given all he had to create this work of art.

A click of the mouse started the power Mac loading the entire manuscript to his CDR burner, after which he would send it off to his agent in New York City. It was at that instant that the phone on his desk rang. Travis didn’t recognize the number on the caller ID box.

Hello? he answered hesitantly.

Mr. Austin, this is Nurse Winters at the care facility. Dr. Jackson wanted me to call you right away. Your mother is failing fast and he knew you would want to know.

Travis’s voice cracked as the urgency of the woman’s voice spurred him to action. I’ll be right there, thank you. All but slamming down the instrument, he spun out of the chair as he plucked the cell phone from his belt and hit the speed-dial button.

In seconds his brother’s voice answered. Travis spoke a single word, Firestorm, and hung up to hit a second button. Seizing his leather jacket from the sofa, he strode toward the door to his den.

The phone rang twice before the officer at the other end answered the line. Travis spoke clearly and precisely, Message for Ranger Austin, firestorm, repeat firestorm. Thank you. The young author strode down the wide central corridor of his house past the living room and the main dining room to the door leading to the three-car garage. Flinging it open, he paused to pluck the keys to his black Dodge Viper GTS coupe from the hook on the wall. Pulling the door shut behind him, he sprinted to the low-slung sports car waiting in the first stall.

The four-point racing style safety harness secured, he slipped on his driving glasses and brought the engine to life. Putting the transmission in gear, he wheeled the high-bred vehicle out into the early afternoon sunlight, dreading what the next few hours held in store for him and his younger brother.

The ache began in the pit of his stomach as he ignored the voice in his head that tried to reassure him. It was starting all over again. The last three years had been an ongoing battle with Alzheimer’s to keep their beloved mother alive and yet they knew they were slowly losing her.

The GTS coupe was doing almost eighty when he slid the gleaming black street-legal race car around the corner out the gate of his estate in a cloud of noxious smoke. The tires screamed like a wounded animal. The ex-race car driver knew every idiosyncrasy of the vehicle under his control as he power-shifted on Carson Drive, the Tremec six-speed gear box shattering the three-digit speed number on the dash in just short of a city block.

The ten-cylinder, fuel-injected high performance vehicle thundered down the empty street across the backside of town, past the golf course toward the care facility.

At the top of the rise, Travis eased off the throttle, down-shifting from fifth to third to make the left hand turn onto Abrams Avenue. His sharp eyes swept to the left, seeing the black and gold police Shelby GT500 pursuit cruiser approaching from the other direction and with the flip of a switch on the dash enabled his emergency four way flashers.

BACK FROM HER LONG weekend all of two days, Officer Tannis Goodwin had been assigned by her watch commander to the department's new high performance Mustang pursuit unit. The supercharged V-eight powered car boasted five hundred plus horsepower and was easily capable of almost a hundred and fifty miles an hour on a racetrack. Tannis had to admit she enjoyed cruising around in a car with wide tires and an engine that could easily blow the doors off almost anything on the street.

She was easing up to the corner of Carson Drive when she heard it: the sound of a big bore high performance engine. Looking to her right, she gasped as she watched a gleaming black Dodge Viper GTS coupe thunder down the hill toward the intersection.

The throaty growl of its high-bred V-ten rumbled from the gleaming chrome side pipes as the driver down-shifted the car, skipping a gear as he set the car into a perfectly controlled drift past her stopped cruiser.

She caught a brief glimpse of the driver’s sandy blond hair and furrowed brow as he shoved the throttle down and rocketed away like a jet fighter catapulting from the flight deck of an aircraft carrier. She paused a few seconds, watching to see if another vehicle came over the crest of the hill, telling her this was a simple street race, but saw nothing.

Grabbing her radio, she called it in. Bravo six in pursuit of a black Dodge Viper GTS east bound on Abrams from Carson. Speed only at this time. In seconds she had the V-eight hammered, spinning the car around in a cloud of billowing tire smoke as she hit her siren and light bar.

Travis caught a glimpse of the flashing lights in his mirror but ignored them as he crested the next rise and gave the Viper her head. Time was precious now and there was no time to stop and explain. The V-ten responded effortlessly, leaping forward to almost two miles a minute in mere seconds as he wheeled the car with practiced skill down the winding asphalt road toward the care center not quite a mile away.

Seeing the empty intersection coming up, he again down-shifted the car and slid around it, the race bred tires protesting as he did.

Tannis shuddered as she watched the speedometer rocket upward. The driver of the Viper had a good lead on her and unless he wrecked it, there was no way she could catch him. It was quite obvious—he knew how to get every ounce of power out of the big block engine under his command. Even using the entire throttle, she had she couldn’t gain on him as he disappeared over the next rise in the roadway.

But the roadblock at the edge of the park two miles down the road would bring him to a halt; the spike strips would shred his tires for sure. Cresting the ridge, she watched the black vehicle slow and wheel into the back parking lot of the nursing home.

She pondered that perhaps the car belonged to a physician responding to an emergency. She didn’t recognize the driver as any of the physicians she knew from her time working in the ER. She would call in the tag and find out as soon as she caught up with him.

Even as she slowed, she saw the car slide to a stop. The driver bounded out of the vehicle and sprinted into the building, never even looking back. She slowed her Mustang to a sedate speed and turned into the lot, positioning her cruiser behind the black vehicle as she keyed her radio. Bravo six, vehicle is stopped at the back of Meadow Brook care center. License number is custom plate reading Austin Number One, spelling: Adam, Union, Sam, Tango, Ida, November, hash mark one, over. Suspect has entered the building; requesting back-up my location.

The radio came back instantly, Bravo one, this is three stand by; ETA two minutes.

Opening her door, she stepped out and looked up at the whap, whap sound of a helicopter. Instead of the red and white Medi-Vac unit she expected, a brightly custom-painted Hughes appeared over the tops of the trees to descend to the lush grass at the far end of the parking lot.

The side door opened and a lean young man wearing a suit exited the craft to sprint toward her. Even as she watched, the helo lifted off spinning, about to fly away. The man approached and motioned to the gleaming Dodge.

Looking for the owner? he asked.

Tannis nodded and he smiled warmly as he opened the door and reached in to shut off the four way flashers. That would be my brother, Travis. It’s our Mom, the doctor just called. Follow me.

TRAVIS APPROACHED THE closed door to his mother’s room and fought down the tears that welled up in his eyes. His mother had been such a strong woman, keeping the family together after his dad died of a heart attack almost ten years ago. She had taken the reins of the corporation in hand and not only made it work, but had made it grow and prosper under her leadership until the stroke had hit her five years ago.

At that point, the three boys stepped up and divided the company into three equal parts, employing skilled, talented people to run them. Their love for her never faltered; they came here several times each week to see her, even though sometimes she didn’t recognize them, which hurt so much. No amount of money was too much for her care and medications.

Travis felt as if his heart were about to break as he realized this could very well be the last time he spoke to his mother this side of heaven. Please God, he prayed, let her know me, just this last time, please?

Pushing open the door, he found the physician bent over his mother’s frail, withered form listening to her heart with a stethoscope as the monitor beeped beside the bed. He paused watching the pale familiar face of his mother turn and look at him. She blinked smiling in recognition and silently he gave thanks for answered prayer.

The doctor looked up and met Travis’ gaze to give a slight shake of his head. A giant fist grabbed Travis’ heart and squeezed until he thought it would implode. The physician tactfully straightened and stepped away to let him approach. His mother reached out a frail hand as she whispered, Travis, my sweet boy.

Taking her weathered hand in his, Travis brought it to his lips as he fought back the tears. Looking up, he checked the heart monitor and knew enough about what it showed to know that her heart was weakening; it wouldn’t be long. He hoped Mac arrived in time to tell her goodbye.

The door whispered open behind him and his younger brother stepped into the room followed by a female police officer.

Mackenzie, so good to see you, my boy. Their mother’s voice was just a thread of sound. She took a breath and motioned him closer. Let me look at you.

Mama, it’s so good to see you. I love you. Mac took her other hand in his. Travis gently clasped the hand he held as the dear saint looked up into their faces and reassured them. "Don’t look so sad, I’m ready. Your dear father has been here standing by the door all night with an angel waiting for me to join him. I’m glad you came to tell me good-bye, though.

I’m ready to join him. I have missed him so much these past years. A tear dripped from Travis’ face and, drawing her hand from his, his mother reached up to caress his cheek as she whispered, Oh, Travis you have lost so much—sweet Carla and your baby girl. Find someone to take the loneliness and pain from you and give you joy; you deserve that, my son. Don’t mourn for me, I’m going to a place of rest in my Savior’s arms; I will see you again someday. You know that.

Travis nodded and whispered, Yes, Mom I know.

TANNIS STOOD AT THE rear of the room. Her heart went out to the family. Losing a parent was hard, very hard. Brad would be here any moment and he would want to take the driver into custody. Turning on her heel, she discreetly exited the room and headed him off as he strode in the front door of the facility.

She took the senior patrolman’s arm and led him aside. It would seem we have a family emergency here, Brad.

The man’s body language eased as he asked, Oh, what’s up?

Keeping her voice lowered, Tannis filled him in ending it with, The poor woman is dying and the doctor wanted the siblings to have the chance to tell her goodbye.

There was deep sadness in the man’s eyes as he sadly shook his head Oh, Lord no. Tannis patted his shoulder. He had lost his own dad mere weeks ago.

To be honest, I really can’t cite the driver for being reckless. He obviously knew how to drive that GTS. All I can get him on is excessive speed. I’ll ticket him on speeding and give him a stern talking to, considering the circumstances.

The senior watch officer gave her an assessing look, It’s your call, officer, but make it good, okay? With that the man turned and walked away.

Tannis breathed a small sigh of relief and headed back down the wide hallway, her thoughts all in turmoil as she considered how to deal with this mess. Looking up at the ceiling, she whispered a silent prayer asking God what to do, if anything.

She knew all too well the pain and anguish of losing a parent; her folks had been killed in an accident several years ago and it had left her devastated for months.

She froze as the man from the helicopter stepped out into the hallway, his shoulders slumped in misery. Looking up, he wiped away tears as he muttered, She’s gone; Travis will be out in a bit.

TRAVIS STOOD OVER HIS mother’s still body and gazed in love at her peaceful face. His voice was a gentle whisper as he placed her hands across her chest and prayed, "Thank you, Father, for letting me tell her goodbye. Take your rest now, Mama, may the arms of