Relentless Pursuit (14 page)

Dubshenko's man looked her up and down, taking in the tight t-shirt and even tighter jeans, before turning to do a cursory sweep of the store one more time.

“If you happen to see him, give me a call.”  He handed her a business card out of his pants pocket.  “Especially since my friend had car trouble, I really need to find him.”  He hesitated before pulling out a folded piece of paper and slid it across the counter.

“I'm also looking for this woman.  She's my baby sister.  Her name's Jennifer.  This other guy's her abusive ex, and the family thinks he's kidnapped her.  Everybody is really worried.  There's even a reward, so if they happen to stop by please call me.  I'll make it worth your while.”

Every muscle in Carlo's body seized up at the mention of Jennifer's name.  Damn, Dubshenko had the goon squad out looking for Jinx.  The good news, it meant she hadn't been injured in the explosion at the police station.  The bad news, Dubshenko had his network of lowlifes searching for her.  Jinx was good at taking care of herself, but she wasn't a match for Dubshenko alone.  Hopefully, the cop she was with was wicked smart and street tough.

“Sure thing, honey.  I'll keep my eyes peeled.  Maybe I could give you a call, even if I don't see 'em?”  She batted her eyelashes and ran her index finger down the cleavage exposed by the low cut t-shirt.

“Now, I'd like that.  I'd like that a whole lot.”  Without a backward glance, Dubshenko's hired thug walked out to his car and drove off.  Carlo stayed behind the shelf filled with potato chips and greasy fried snacks for another minute, making sure he'd really left. 

“You can come out, he's gone.”

Carlo sauntered over to the counter and picked up the paper he'd left.  It looked like a wanted poster. The kind you'd see in the post office.  Jinx's picture on the left side, and a dark-haired stranger opposite.  He'd never seen the guy before, but it was better she was with this guy than alone.  As smart as Jinx was she didn't stand a chance against Dubshenko's underground network.  The Russian had his fingers in every kind of illegal racket out there, and Jinx didn't have a clue how to disappear, to get off the grid and stay hidden.

“Listen, sugar, this girl sure as shootin' ain't that clown's sister and this guy didn't kidnap her.  Do not under any circumstances call him.  Unless you have a death wish.”

The store clerk's mascara-caked eyes widened at his words before she narrowed her gaze at him, assessing him more thoroughly than she had when he'd walked into the convenience store.

“Why should I trust you instead of him?”

“You shouldn't.  Don't trust either one of us.  But if you call that number, Vladimir Dubshenko will be in your face before you take your next breath.”  She visibly paled at the mention of Dubshenko's name.  “I see you know who I'm talking about.  You do not want to get involved with him or his men.  That is the nastiest kind of business, and you'll be the one who pays the price.  Is your life really worth risking for a few measly dollars?”

Carlo knew he was being harsh, but she needed to know the score.  The minute she made that call, her life wasn't worth one thin dime.  She'd be the next nameless, faceless body found by the side of the road—if her body was found at all.  In the parishes around here, it was easy for somebody to disappear—permanently.

“You better hit the road, fella.  I ain't calling nobody.  I sure as hell didn't see your friends or you.  Got nothing to say.  But you get gone, pronto.  And don't come back.”

That suited Carlo just fine.  He'd done his job, called his boss at the DEA, and warned the little clerk to keep her mouth shut.  All in a day's work lately.

He crossed the cracked concrete by the gas pumps, skirted around staying out of the open space between them and the roadway and kept to the shadows.  Chances were good he'd be thumbing his way for a bit.

Some days,
he thought,
it just doesn't pay to get out of bed.

Chapter Fifteen

N
ess had been right, it hadn't taken long for her to get the pallets unloaded from the back of her eighteen wheeler at her first stop.  Remy tried again to help her, but she'd said he'd be more hindrance than help, so he'd stayed in the truck's cab, while Jinx went inside to use the facilities.

She'd been a real trooper about everything so far, but he still couldn’t get a good read on her.  She was like a chameleon, changing to suit the situation.  She'd been the shy, timid sister, reporting a crime when they'd been at the police station, sweet and demure in her skirt and blouse.  Even with the signs of wear and tear, the dirt and tears in her clothing, she'd carried herself in a manner befitting the role that she played.  And he was convinced it was a role.  That hadn't been the real Jennifer.  Last night at the hotel she'd been too exhausted to do more than sleep, even though she'd protested sharing the bed with him.  When she'd finally capitulated and agreed to share the space she'd slept like a baby, while he'd barely closed his eyes all night.

Then this morning, she'd been flirtacious and funny, her smile bright and carefree. That curvaceous body stoking the fire that hadn't been quenched since he'd first laid eyes on her.   In the stretchy yoga pants that fit her like a second skin and the t-shirt clinging to her magnificent assets¸ she had the body of a nineteen-forties pin up queen.  The kind servicemen had drooled over for decades.  

“We've got about another thirty minutes or so before the next stop.”  Ness' voice sounded through the cabin, rousing Remy from his musings.  Jinx had remained seated in the little alcove behind them, strangely silent since they'd left the small mom and pop store where they'd made their first delivery.

“You okay back there, Jinx?”  Remy swiveled in his seat as much as the seatbelt would allow, noting the strained look on her face.  She gave a little smile and nodded, tucking an errant strand of hair behind her ear.

“I'm good.  Just wondering about Carlo.”  Turning to Ness, she continued,  “Carlo's my brother.  Before we left,” she waved her hand between herself and Remy, “he'd gotten himself into some trouble with the wrong crowd.  I hope he's okay.”

“Why don't you call him?”

“I—can't.”  Jennifer stopped talking, and Remy knew she was afraid to say too much.  They'd given their new friend the basics of why they were on the road without transportation, but couldn't risk giving her too much information.  The less she knew, the less trouble she'd get into.

“I'll try and find out how he's doing at our next stop.”  Remy made the rash promise, knowing full well they needed to stay incommunicado.  Dubshenko had an entire team of computer hackers who wouldn't have the slightest difficulty tracking any movement on Hilliard's phone or Max's for that matter.  Silence was golden when you were on the run—and he'd just promised to basically throw their safety out the window—to satisfy the aching heart of one beautiful woman.

“Best thing would be to find an internet café, but a library or hotel might work.  As long as we can get internet access I can contact my brother.  He'll know what's going on with Carlo.”

“Internet?”  Ness piped in, glancing first at Remy then Jennifer.  “You can use my cell phone, if that'd help.”  Remy shook his head.

“Thanks for the offer, but it'll be safer all around if we keep things out in the public arena.  It would be too easy to trace the calls back to your phone within a matter of minutes, and I won't do anything to put you in danger, Ness.  You've helped us out, and that would be a really piss-poor way of saying thanks.”

Ness chortled.  “Okay, fine.  Appreciate it.  But how about you use the cell phone to Google and see where the local library or internet whatchamacallit it might be, so we can get you to it ASAP.”

“Great idea.”  Remy took her phone and handed it back to Jennifer.  “Her you go, hon, why don't you start checking?”  Maybe looking up the info would keep her busy for a while, and get her mind concentrated on something besides her injured brother.

He and Max had set up an e-mail account years earlier when Remy had transferred from homicide to vice.  The chances of him going to ground during one of his undercover investigations made the possibility a reality, and they'd wanted a line of communication only they knew about.  They didn't use the account for anything except extreme emergencies.  Remy assured Max before they'd left New Orleans he'd check the account regularly.

He'd also instructed Max to give Captain Hilliard several untraceable burner phones with instructions to keep one on hand at all times, plus the order of the numbers he'd call them in, if everything went from shine to shinola.  Those numbers were in an encrypted e-mail Max had forwarded first thing.

“Do you really think he's going to come after me, Remy?”  Jinx's softly whispered question floated from the back of the truck's cab.

“I'd love to tell you he'll forgive and forget, but Dubshenko's not the forgiving type, hon.  Plus he's got a long reach.  We have to stay one step ahead of him until they arrest him and make sure it sticks.  My job is keeping you safe until that happens.”

“There any way I can help with that, big fella?”  Ness reached over one-handed and squeezed his shoulder.  “I've got a lot of connections with other truckers.  We can keep you moving up and down the interstates for hours, if not days, if that's what it takes.”

Remy felt a lump rise in his throat.  Sometimes the kindness of strangers surprised him.  Working vice, he didn't see it all that often.  Working with the nastiest lowlifes you tended to forget there was generosity and decency in most people.  When things were at their lowest, the inherent goodness of folks tended to show up when it was least expected.

“Thanks, Ness.  Appreciate it.  But the longer we stay with you, the more likely it is you'll become a target.  I can't let that happen.  You've been more than generous to two complete strangers, and I won't forget it.  But right now, just get us to a place with Wi-Fi.  When I get more information, then I'll be able to make concrete plans for our next step.”

The rest of the trip was quiet except for the occasional chatter of the radio, but the three in the truck didn't talk.  They drove past the city limits sign, and Jinx pulled up directions to one of the larger chain hotels not far from where Ness had to make her next delivery.  Remy emphatically stated he'd help unload the next shipment, which he knew from their earlier conversation was one of the bigger hauls in the back.  He'd snuck a peek at the inventory sheets at their last stop.

Pulling up to the back of the convenience store, Ness left the truck idling while she and Remy began stacking the pallets of goods.  They hauled each loaded hand truck through the back employee's entrance and into the large refrigerated storage area.

Once they'd unloaded their last pallet of goods, they headed toward the manager's office.  He hoped it wouldn't take long to have the manager sign off the receipt of goods, so they'd get moving again.  Staying in one place, knowing Dubshenko was always one step behind him, Remy felt like there was a large bulls-eye painted smack dab in the middle of his back.  At least a moving target was harder to hit.

“Hey, why don't you run inside and grab a couple of sodas or coffee before we head out?”  Ness nodded toward the open door leading to the store's interior.  “I'll get his signature, and we'll hit the road.”

“Sure thing.”  With a jaunty little salute, Remy headed in and grabbed several bottles of soft drinks and walked to the register.  Placing the items on the counter, he reached for his wallet, but paused when he noted the clerk staring at him before looking down at a paper in his hand.  He looked at Remy again and quickly shoved the paper face down on the counter.

“That be all for you, sir?”  The clerk's voice didn't squeak, but his Adam's apple rode up and down in his throat and he swallowed several times, a sure sign he was nervous—or anxious. 
What the hell?
 

“Nope, that's it.”

“Okay, that'll be three ninety five.”  Remy passed across a five dollar bill and grabbed up the drinks, while the guy fumbled with the keys on the register.

“Keep the change.”  Remy stated as he slid the sheet of paper into his hand along with the bottles.  “Have a good day.”

“You too, sir.”  The guy's voice did squeak then, and Remy hurried back out.  Something was definitely wrong, and they needed to get moving—now.

Ness met him at the manager's office door and they hustled their way out to the truck where Jinx waited.  The minute he slid into the seat, he pushed the drinks toward her, and opened the paper he'd stolen from the clerk.  And stared at his own face—and Jennifer's.

Dubshenko definitely played dirty.  He'd made out wanted posters on them, claiming that Remy was an abusive ex-boyfriend and Jinx was Dubshenko's daughter.  The flier stated Remy had abducted Jinx and Dubshenko was offering fifty thousand dollars for any information leading to the apprehension of the monstrous abuser and return of his sweet baby girl.

He heard Jinx gasp as she read over his shoulder.  “That son of a bitch!”  She snatched it out of his hand and growled.

“What's that?”  Ness leaned across the center console trying to get a good look.  Jinx handed it across and Ness's indrawn breath on seeing their faces on the flier stabbed at Remy.  He watched her read the unflattering and utterly false accusations against him, and the offer of reward.  Her eyes widened at the amount before she handed the sheet back.

“So, where to now, Remy?”  Her calm acceptance without any questions swept over him like a wave.

“Don't you have any questions?  Demands to know if this,” he waved the paper, “is the truth?”

She snorted in a most unladylike manner.  “Heck, I don't need you to tell me that's a big fat pile of dog poop.  I've only know y'all a couple of hours, but you haven't once raised your voice, much less your hand, to this woman.  Plus, I'm a good judge of people and you are good people.”  She grinned.  “Like I said, where to now?”

“Just head toward your next stop.  We need to get moving out of this place fast.”

Putting the truck in gear, bumping and chugging from behind the store, they pulled into traffic and hit the road.  Remy knew chances were good the clerk was on the phone with Dubshenko right that minute, and they needed to get as much space between where they were and where they needed to be before Dubshenko caught up to them.  If that happened, all three of them could kiss their asses' good-bye.