Relentless Pursuit (21 page)

“Drink your coffee while you can,” he said with a smile. He tugged on a lock of hair, his fingers rubbing against the silky softness.  “We're out of here in five minutes and it's a long walk.”

Remy sauntered out onto the front porch, taking a look around.  Dawn's light colored everything in shades of pink, orange and yellow as the sun rose over the left side of the treetops.  A fine mist engulfed the waterways as the evening's chill gave way to the early morning heat.  Spanish moss dangled from the branches, and the smell of salt water permeated every breath.  To anybody else the portrait of a Louisiana bayou in the early morning light might be an eerie sight, but to Remy it was home.  He'd been born and raised here and if he had any say in it, when he breathed his last breath, he wanted it to be Louisiana's one-of-a-kind sights and scents that carried him home.

He focused on the pathway leading up to the fishing shanty they'd spent the night in, checking for any sign Dubshenko's men might have tracked them here, but didn't see anything.  Good.  They needed to stay one step ahead until Cap had enough to throw his ass under the prison.  Remy knew between Max and Cap, they'd find that chink in his armor, and burrow deep until they got him.  But, damn it, he'd been working to arrest Dubshenko forever, and the Russian had thwarted him at every turn.  He wanted to watch Dubshenko's face when he was confronted with the evidence.

A sound from inside the cabin had him smile.  Then again, he thought, let Hilliard arrest him.  As long as it kept Jinx safe and sound and in his arms, he'd be a happy man.

# # # # #

Jinx didn't think she could walk another step.  At least she'd picked up canvas walking shoes when they'd grabbed supplies, and wasn't wearing those horrible bedazzled flip-flops.  They'd never have lasted through the last day's activities.  But these shoes were new, and even with socks, were rubbing blisters along the backs of her ankles.  But she didn't dare complain.  Remy'd immediately stop and let her rest, and they didn't have time for that.  They needed to keep moving.  She could live with blisters, but she wouldn't survive a bullet to the brain.  Yeah, putting it like that, her feet didn't hurt quite so much anymore.

They walked in the opposite direction they'd come from the day before. Remy remembered there was a small town not too far down the road; he'd visited it before when he'd used the cabin for a fishing trip years ago.  He still planned to call his friends in East Texas.  A shiver of unease skittered down her backbone.  He promised she wouldn't have to go alone to their ranch, and she trusted he'd keep his word, but knew taking down Dubshenko and nailing his sorry hide to the prison wall conflicted with his need to keep her safe.

“Not much farther, babe.”  Remy smiled over his shoulder, checking on her, since she was lagging behind.

“Great, again with the not much further.  How long will it take your friends to reach us?”

“Once I get hold of 'em, probably three to four hours.  Their spread isn't too far outside Longview.  So it's maybe one-hundred and eighty to two hundred miles.”

Remy pointed forward, and Jinx's gaze followed the direction he'd indicated, noting a small cluster of buildings in the distance, lining either side of the two-lane blacktop.  Must be the barely-a-dot-on-the-map town Remy'd been talking about.  It sure didn’t look like much.  The small barely-there town reminded her of places she traveled through years ago with her family.  No fond memories evoked at the remembrance of the havoc her family had caused the decent, upstanding but gullible people who embraced the small town lifestyle.  Though they were by no means stupid, they were naïve and trusting toward strangers—a fact the Marucci's preyed upon without a single thought to the consequences or devastation they left in their wake.   She surreptitiously crossed her fingers behind her back, hoping this wasn't one of the places they'd “traveled” to during her formative years.  Try as she might, blacking out the memory of the cons and grifts her family pulled still filled her with shame.

It turned her stomach she'd willingly participated in that lifestyle.  Growing up, she hadn't known better—it was the life she'd been brought up in—trained from the cradle to believe it was better to grab what you want because nobody was gonna hand it to you on a silver platter.

Now, she knew better.  Each day she tried to make up for every person she'd hurt, directly or indirectly, but the list seemed unending.

“Come on, let's find a phone, and grab a few supplies.  You deserve a short break.  Me, I'm dying for some ice cold water.”

“Heck, no.  You wanna bribe me, cop, you're gonna have to do better than that.”  Jinx grabbed his hand, twining her fingers through his and squeezing.  “I'll give you a hint.  It's dark brown and sweet and comes wrapped in shiny foil paper—and it's in a bar form.”  She laughed, before tugging on his arm, speeding up the pace.  “Get the picture?”

“Ah, ha, so you're a chocolate lover?  Good to know in the event future bribes are required.  Any more secrets you want to share, my dear?”  His teasing tone had her mind winging back to the people she'd been thinking about, victims of her family and their scams.  She'd hinted at her past before, but thankfully he hadn't asked for more details, and she hadn't volunteered any either.  She loved her family.  Marucci's had been in and around Northern Louisiana for generations, sometimes traveling east to Mississippi, north to Arkansas, and even into East Texas, but never staying too long in any one place. Peopled tended to look down on them because of the way they dressed, or the ramshackle caravan they drove.  Heck, she was the first person in her family to own her own home.  They'd always moved around so much, rented houses wherever they could and if there wasn't a handy spot around, they lived out of their car or van.

“Jinx?”  Remy's voice stirred her out of her thoughts and she gave him a half-hearted smile.

“Sorry, no secrets to share today.”

“Okay.”  They stopped in the middle of the narrow roadway, devoid of traffic.  Barely more than packed dirt with deep culverts down each side overgrown with weeds. It consisted of potholes and gouges from years of use and abuse.  He held out his hand.  With a sigh, she placed hers within his confident grip and matched his steps until they crossed over into the town.  Wooden and aluminum buildings housed a small general store with one lone gas pump out front, the aluminum sign proudly proclaiming the price per gallon.  Faded red and white paint on the wooden siding reflecting how long it had been since it had seen a rejuvenating facelift.  Some industrious soul had filled two barrels sawed in half with soil and planted flowers, but with the unrelenting and unseasonable heat of the last few weeks their vibrant colors seemed faded and brown tinged around the edges of the petals.  

A bait and tackle shop sat cattycorner from the general store, the hum of an ice machine loud in the surrounding stillness.  A few cars were parked beside the buildings in a higgledy-piggledy fashion, with no rhyme or reason.  No fancy parking lots with uniformly lined spaces here.  It was more come-as-you-are parking.

A bit further down a brightly painted sign seemed incongruous amidst all the faded glory of its sister buildings.   Bright red, white and blue sparkled like a newly polished diamond amongst the costume jewelry, its setting eerily out of place and time.  The vibrant lettering above the striped awning proclaimed it Pop's Diner.  Remy looked at her and quirked his brow in silent invitation.  Why the heck not, she thought, and nodded.

Walking inside, it felt like she'd stepped back in time.  Jennifer looked at the square four-seater tables covered with red and white checkered tablecloths, little vases of flowers centered precisely in the center of each.  Several Naugahyde booths lined the back wall, their gleaming seats appeared brand new, as though they'd hardly been used.  A large lighted jukebox sat in place of pride in the back corner, and an old fifties tune pumped out of the speakers, filling the air with long-forgotten songs. 

Jinx had a soft spot for old diners, had loved them since she was a kid.  Some of her fondest memories from childhood were those few hours spent with her granddad at the old counters, sitting on the spinning stools, eating an ice cream and having some alone time, just her and her Pop-Pop.  Whenever she passed one, she had the urge to stop in, even if it was for a cup of coffee.  She inhaled.  Dang, even the smells were the same homey and comforting.

Remy led them to one of the booths in the back, and she slid in across from him.  The place was eerily quiet, except for the music playing in the background.  No shouting of orders back in the kitchen.  Certainly no kids screaming or complaining, or even laughing.  A lone man dressed in jeans and a white t-shirt with a pack of cigarettes rolled into his sleeve sat on one of the round stools in front of the long Formica counter, sipping a cup of coffee, digging into a plate of pancakes drowning in syrup.

The waitress finished her conversation with the gent at the counter and ambled over to their table, her considerable bosom leading the way.  Her brassy red hair was piled atop her head in a messy style, a pencil tucked into the topknot.  Wearing a button-front shirt tied into a knot at the waist, a rolled up pair of jeans and a pair of Mary Jane's. She blended seamlessly into the place, enhancing the authenticity of the diner.  Plunking down a couple of menus, she smiled, her pretty blue eyes sparkling in the morning light.

“Morning, folks.  Welcome to Pop's.  Can I start you off with some coffee?”

“Oh please, yes.”  Jennifer's hands clasped in a prayerful display earned a chuckle from both the waitress and Remy.  Great, she thought, let's get this morning off to a good start.

“Sure thing, hon.  Be right back.”

Within seconds the waitress was back carrying two cups of steaming dark heaven in a cup.  Remy sipped his straight from the cup, black, but Jennifer doctored hers, adding both sugar and creamer.  She took a sip and closed her eyes in bliss. 
Oh, yeah, that's the ticket
.

“You folks ready to order?  I can recommend the breakfast special if you're really hungry.  Three egg omelette, bacon and sausage, hash browns and your choice of toast or pancakes.  Darryl's a real good cook, so you won't be disappointed no matter what you order.”

Remy glanced at Jennifer, who shrugged.  She didn't care what they ate, as long as it was good and there was plenty of it.  She was starving.

“Sounds great, two specials please.”  Remy's quiet voice placed the order and he took another drink of his coffee, while Jinx smiled at the waitress. She remembered the days of standing on her feet, serving customers.  Dealing with a happy customer first thing in the mornings was a heck of a lot easier, to say nothing of nicer, than dealing with a grouch.

“Sure thing, sugar.  Have it right out to ya.”  With a snap of her gum, she hurried back to the kitchen to get their order placed.

“Remy,” Jinx watched him put down his cup and look up at her before she continued, “Do you find it strange that nobody else is here?  I know it's still fairly early, but it's a Saturday morning.  Lots of people eat breakfast out on the weekend.”

“Funny, I was wondering that myself.  Lemme ask.”  With a wave of his hand, Remy motioned the waitress back over to their table, inquiring about the lack of customers.

“Yeah, it's pretty slow this morning, but we expected that.  Today's the annual fishing tournament.  Most of the places here in town are closed today.  Heck, you're lucky we're even open.  I'm planning to close the place up in a couple of hours and head over to the festivities myself.  Ain't that why you folks are here?”  Jinx heard the curiosity behind her words.  Yep, living in a small town meant dealing with local gossip, especially with strangers.  They always wanted to know who you were, why you were there, how long you were staying.  But being a nice southern girl, the waitress wouldn't just blurt out the questions.  No, that wasn't the way you did things in the South.  You eased your question into the conversation, steering it in the direction to get all the answers you wanted—in a most gentile fashion.  She bit back a snort of laughter.  Yep, she knew exactly where the waitress's questioning style came from.  She'd used it herself a million times.  After all, you get more flies with honey—isn't that what they always say?

“Actually, we heard mention of the fishing contest, so we thought we'd check things out.  Can you tell us a little more about the celebration?”  Remy smiled at the waitress, the little laugh lines around his eyes crinkling in amusement.  Jinx rolled her own eyes when his dimples came into play.  Whew, when he turned those whiskey brown eyes on a woman, focused his million-dollar smile and all that Cajun charm onto said females, apparently they melted into a puddle of melted butter—just like she had at the fishing shack.  The rogue was definitely irresistible.  Apparently, their waitress was no exception to the charming ways of the southern gentleman.  Jinx decided to sit back and watch a master interrogator at work.

The waitress tittered.  There wasn't a better word to describe it.  A hand went to her hair and she patted it absently, before tugging on the pencil shoved into her messy topknot.  Within seconds she whisked a chair from a nearby table and plopped herself down at the end of their booth.  Her flirty smile was solely directed at Remy, Jennifer completely ignored at this point.

“Oh, we have a grand time.  The whole parish gets together.  Most of the actual festivities are held in the next parish since they're bigger than we are, but it's only a short drive, or about a fifteen minute walk.  There's carnival rides for the kiddies.  Cooking competitions and bake-offs for the grownups.  Even Darryl,” she pointed back toward the kitchen with her thumb before continuing, “he's got pies in the bakeoff.”

She leaned forward toward Remy.  “The big draw though is the noodling.”

A frown creased Remy's brow, and Jinx chuckled at his puzzled look.  His gaze shifted to hers, and she put the tips of her fingers in front of her lips to cover her smile, struggling to keep her laughter in check.  It was blatantly obvious he had no clue what noodling was.