Relentless Pursuit (31 page)

“Before Agent Branson steals everybody's thunder, the FBI also thanks you, detective.  Believe it or not, we've been trying to get a foothold into Dubshenko's operation for years, but he's always been one step ahead.”

“That's how he plays it.”  Remy replied.  “He's a master manipulator.  Got the better of me more than once.”

“Regardless, you've done your country a valuable service, and you have our thanks.”  Agent Richards looked over at Branson.  “Off the record, Lamoreaux, you ever want to change jobs, call me first.”

Everyone in the room chuckled, except Hilliard.  Remy noticed he stood with his back leaning against the wall, his arms crossed.  The mutinous expression on his African-American face looked hewn out of stone.  
Uh oh, Cap was not a happy camper
.

“I want to add my personal thanks,” Governor Bradley added, once again stepping forward.  “Chances are good Jonathan Caine would have won the special election for Lieutenant Governor in a few days.  It looks like you saved my life.”

“Indirectly, sir, if at all.”  Remy replied.

“Nonsense.  Jonathan Caine's lead in the poles was growing.  He would have won, and my life would have been the prize.”  He shook his head.  “Hearing him plot my assassination on that recording—let's just say I've had my eyes opened.  Truthfully, there are times I wish I'd never gone into politics.  I want to help the people of Louisiana.  I have no interest in personal gain and no aspirations of sitting in Washington.”

“So what happens now?”  Remy felt he had earned the right to ask.

“Isabella Sokolov and her father have already returned to Russia.  Fortunately, Sokolov was so grateful to Carlo Marucci for keeping his daughter safe and out of Dubshenko's clutches, he agreed no further retaliation was warranted.  Dubshenko's legal sharks are circling, trying to cut a deal—which will never happen.  He's going to stand trial unless he pleads, but either way he's never walking out of prison a free man.”  Governor Bradley shook his head sadly.

“As for Jonathan Caine, he's denying any ties to Dubshenko.  Swears to anybody listening he was working behind the scenes to bring down corruption and the Russian mob.  Nobody's buying it.  At the end of that video, he's clearly seen ordering Dubshenko to orchestrate the hit on me after the election results were finalized.  Sokolov confirmed Caine was doing business with the Russian mafia.  He was calling the shots, not Dubshenko.  He'll be a guest of the penitentiary for a good long while.

“Wish I could say that was the end of things, but somebody else will slide in and take over Dubshenko's territory, and we'll start all over again.”  Hilliard's words had everybody shaking their heads, even though they knew it was the truth.

“We won't take up any more of your time, Captain.  Or yours, detective.    Thank you both for the fine job you're doing to protect our wonderful city and its citizens.”

They left.  Just like that, everything was over and done.  Hilliard motioned him to the wooden mission-style chair in front of his desk, and Remy sank down into it scrubbing his hands through his hair, which hadn't seen a comb in a couple days.  Then again, he'd just talked to the Governor of Louisiana, and he hadn't brushed his teeth since he'd been at the station.  Wow, great impression to make on one of the most powerful men in the state.  Ah, hell, screw it.  He just wanted to go home and get some sleep.

“You're taking a couple weeks off.”

“No, couple days and I'll be fine.”  Remy protested.

“You're not listening.  That wasn't a suggestion.  A couple of weeks.  I don't want to see your mangy backside here for at least two weeks.”

“Fine, I'm not gonna argue about it.  I could use the down time.”  Remy rolled his shoulders, more than ready to go home and get some sleep.

Hilliard shuffled some of the papers on his desk.  Nothing alarming in that, but it had Remy scooting further down in his chair.  Cap was a neat freak, didn't have papers scattered over his desk top.  Except when he was frazzled or pissed.  Which one?

“You planning to take 'em up on their offers?”

Huh?  Did Cap seriously think…?

“I don't know.  Honestly hadn't expected it.”  Remy sat back, arms across his chest, and waited.   He couldn't believe Hilliard thought he'd even consider leaving the New Orleans Police Department.  This was where he belonged—he wasn't going anywhere unless they kicked him out.

“Don't.  I mean, I can't tell you what to do, but you need to stay here.  You belong at N.O.P.D. and you damn well know it.”  He scowled at Remy, and Remy had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.

I'll be damned, he really thinks I'm considering leaving.

Should he prolong the moment—nah, much as he enjoyed seeing the captain wriggling on the hook, he respected the man too much to torment him any longer.

“Cap, I'm not going anywhere.  I'm honored they'd consider me, but N.O.P.D. is my home.”

“Damn straight.”  Hilliard's gruff response touched Remy because he knew it was sincere.  Cap wanted him to stick around.

“One more question before I kick your ass out of here.”

Remy started to rise from the chair.  “Gee, only one?”

“What are you going to do about Ms. Marucci?”

The question hit him right between the eyes.  Or maybe like an arrow to the heart.  Too bad he didn't have an answer.

“Honestly, Cap, I have no bloody idea.  I figure I'll get about twenty-four hours of sleep, then I'll call her and…”

“Wrong answer, bub.”

Remy squirmed in his seat now.  Conversations about work, sports, anything else with the captain were fair game.  But discussing his love life, there was a conversation he'd never felt he'd be sharing with the big guy.

“Okay, what should I do?”

“I watched you, and I watched her at the warehouse takedown.  Even before that, the night she first came into the station.  There was something between you even then, an undeniable spark.”

Remy remembered the instant attraction he'd felt for Jinx the moment he'd seen her walk through the doors.  Disheveled, dirty, and clearly in shock, there'd been more than chemistry blooming between them.  He didn't believe in love at first sight.  That was for fools and sissies.  Real life didn't work that way.  Yet spending the last few days with her, getting to know her under less-than-ideal conditions, there wasn't a doubt in his mind she was
the one
. 

His
maman
swore when he'd found the right woman he'd know, and in his gut Remy knew Jennifer Marucci, with her big heart and generous spirit, was the woman he'd waited his whole life to find.

“Don't wait, son.  I know you're tired, but if you let this one get away you're gonna regret it for the rest of your life.”  Hilliard stood and walked around his desk, stretching out his hand toward Remy.   He took it and Cap pulled him from the chair and hugged him.  Hugged him!  One of those manly hugs, more of a slap, slap, slap on the back and release, but that ball of tightness in Remy's chest unfurled, and he pulled in a huge breath.  He hadn't even realized how much Cap's approval meant.  Though it should have, the man was like a surrogate father to him.  His own parents traveled so much now that they were both retired, and aside from Max, Cap was the rock solid haven he'd come to depend upon.

“Go get your woman, and don’t take no for an answer.”  With a little push, he steered Remy toward the door.  “And don't show your sorry hide around here for at least two weeks.”

Remy turned and started down the corridor toward the front of the station.

“Remy.”  Cap's voice floated behind him.  “Call and let me know how it goes.”

“Will do.”

Remy stopped at the front steps to the precinct and looked around.  Yep, this was where he belonged.  This city, these people—this was home.

Taking the steps at a brisk clip, he stopped short realizing he didn't know where Jinx was staying.  Since Dubshenko burned her house to the ground, she'd have to be temporarily living someplace else.  But where?

He grinned.  Good thing he had an in with the best private investigator in New Orleans.  Yanking his phone out of his pocket, he called his brother and within minutes had an address.

Time to find his woman and bring her home.

Chapter Thirty-Three

J
inx hated everything about the hotel suite she and Carlo shared.  After a frustrating couple of hours dealing with the insurance company, who wanted to give her a hard time about her property claims, her head felt like it was going to split open.  So far the aspirin hadn't dulled the pain, and she wanted to crawl into her queen sized bed with its overstuffed comforter pulled up to her neck, close her eyes and block out the rest of the world.

Only she couldn't.  Her queen sized bed was gone.  Her overstuffed comforter burned to ashes.  The haven she'd created for herself destroyed in a fit of pique by a man bent on her domination.  But she'd survived, and he was going to spend the rest of his natural life behind bars.  The District Attorney, the FBI, the DEA and everybody associated with this case assured her of that.

“I've got a couple of loose ends to tie up.  You going to be okay here, sis?”

“For the last time, Carlo, I'm fine.  I'm going to take a couple more aspirin and pull the covers over my head and pretend none of this ever happened.”

Carlo walked over and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pulling her close.  It felt good to be held in her big brother's embrace, but she couldn't help wishing it was another set of arms that held her. 
Stop thinking about him.  He did his job, it's over.  He's moving on and you should to.

Easier said than done. 

“Branson said he'll have his assistant deal with the insurance company if they keep giving you a hard time.  I'm sure they don't want to have the government crawling up their butts.”  Carlo stepped back and stared at her, and she glanced away.  Sometimes her brother saw too much.

Plus, she was still pissed he hadn't told her he worked for the Drug Enforcement Administration.  All this time she'd thought he'd fallen back into the shadier side of the law, when he'd actually been trying to take down one of its major players.  He still hadn't told her how he'd gone from being in prison to working for the good guys, but he would.  She'd drag the story out of him, just not today.

“Go.  I'm fine.”

“You've got my number if you need anything.  Anything, Jinx.  I can be back here in ten minutes tops.”

She pushed him toward the door.  “Go already.  The faster you leave, the sooner you'll get back.”

The door closed behind him with a gentle snick, and she headed toward the bathroom in search of more aspirin.  She'd just picked up the bottle when there was a knock.  Seriously, he was back already?  Unless he'd forgotten his keys, she was going to bop him over the head.  She was a grown woman, she didn't need a babysitter.

When she flung open the door, instead of Carlo standing there it was Remy.  Her eyes devoured him, from his long dark hair to his whiskey brown eyes.  Dark circles, a couple of days of dark growth shadowed his chin, and he looked ready to drop. Yet here he stood on her doorstep.

“Remy?”

“Jinx.  We need to talk.”

Uh oh, that sounded serious.  She waved him into the room.  Were there more questions?  Surely they'd covered everything.  She'd answered questions until her voice was hoarse, and they'd finally let her go that morning.

“What's wrong?”

Remy jerked at her words, a half-smile curving his lips.  Those lips that had kissed hers, brushed along her skin in silken caresses—whoa, don't go there, girlfriend.  Business, strictly business now.

“Nothing's wrong.  I had to see you.  Make sure you're okay.”

Yep, she was right.  It was strictly business between them now.  She loved him, and all she was to him was a means to an end, a case solved.  Okay, she'd assure him she was fine and let him go on his way while she nursed a broken heart.

“I'm fine.  Dealing with the insurance fallout from the house, but otherwise everything's great.” 
Lie number one
.

“Really?”

“Of course.  Carlo's boss totally said he'd put the squeeze on them if they don't cooperate, so you don't need to worry.”

“I wasn't worried about the house, although I'm glad it'll be covered.  I wanted to check on you.”

“Me?  Couldn't be better.” 
Lie number two.  Is my nose starting to grow?

“I've missed you.”  Remy's gravely growl sent a frisson of desire coursing through her.  She loved his voice, and when it went all rough and sexy, she wanted to melt into a puddle at his feet.

“Can we sit?  I'd like to explain…”

“What's there to explain?  You switched out the phones.  I got it, and it was a really good plan.  I'm guessing you knew they'd find us at your friend's place, so you set us up to be found, right?”

Remy nodded, and Jinx gave herself a mental high five for having guessed right.  She'd had a lot of time to think about everything since the takedown in the warehouse.  Initially hurt that he'd kept her in the dark, the more she thought about the chain of events she not only got it, she'd probably have done the same thing in his place.

“Jinx, forget the case.  Forget Dubshenko.  Forget everything else except you and me.”

Hope blossomed inside Jinx.  Only a tiny spark, but for the first time since they'd been apart she let herself wish.  Could he care about her as more than a means to an end?  What she felt for him consumed her, the love she felt was like nothing she'd ever felt before.

“Us?”

“Jinx, I know we haven't known each other long.”  He reached out and caught both of her hands in his, his thumb rubbing across the back of her hands.  His touch sent a thrill coursing through her, that little zing she felt whenever he was near.

“A few days, but it seems like a lifetime, doesn't it.”  She stared at his face, looking for clues.  Where was he going with this?

“But those few days were packed with more living than most people do in a year.   I just…the thing is…”