Relentless Pursuit (22 page)

“Noodling?  I thought we were talking fishing?”

The waitress nodded.  “Sure am.  Noodling is catfish hand-fishing.  Basically, you stick your fingers in the catfish's mouth and pull it clear out of the water with just your bare hands.  No rods or reals, not bait or anything like that.  Ask anybody, they'll tell you we've got the best noodling competition in the entire parish.”  She leaned forward in her chair and whispered in a conspiratorial fashion, “Though to tell you the truth, if you ask me, we've got the best noodlers in the state right here in our own back yard.”  She nodded to him and Jinx, crossing her arms across her bosom.  “Heck, ole Jack Perkins caught a 70 pounder at last year's contest.”

“Huh, I guess I never heard it called that before.”  Remy appeared impressed, and Jinx couldn't blame him.  Catching a 70 pound catfish using regular fishing equipment seemed like a pretty big deal.  She couldn't imagine doing that with her bare hands.  A shudder ran up her spine at the thought of sticking her fingers inside a fish's mouth.  Have those wiggling whiskers touching her?  Eww. 
Yep, I'm a girly girl, fishing with my hands?  No thank you very much, I'll just watch from the sidelines
.

“It's called by lots of names, but folks round here call it noodling.  Everybody's probably down at the lake already.  You can bet there will be some big ole catfish cookouts tonight for dinner.”

A yell from the kitchen had her jump up from her chair.  “That's your order, I'll be right back with your food.”

Jinx couldn't hold back her laugh any longer.  “The look on your face,” she sputtered and Remy grinned as his laugh joined hers.

“Well, I know what hand-fishing is, but I'd never heard it called anything else before.  How'd you know what it was?”

“Television.”

“Huh?”

“There was a TV show about this guy who taught people how to hand fish.  It was hysterically funny, so I watched it a few times.”  At his raised brow and decided smirk, she defended, “Hey, I've got very eclectic taste, what can I say.”

By then, their food arrived and the scent of the bacon and sausage set Jennifer's mouth to watering.  Breakfast was her favorite meal and she dug right in, almost shoveling the first bite in at record speed.  She moaned as the flavors of the blueberry pancakes exploded on her tongue.

“Oh my word, these are delicious.”  She moaned aloud, while cutting another forkful off the stack, and swirling it around in the syrup before filling her mouth again.  Her eyes closed in bliss. Remy's laughter caused her to flip him off, and she kept chewing.

Their waitress strolled back over, coffee pot in hand.  She quirked her brow, holding the pot aloft, and Remy nodded.  Jennifer smiled her appreciation.

“We were supposed to meet up with some friends of ours here.  Are you sure nobody else stopped in?”  Remy asked quietly.  “Since you mentioned the big noodling competition, I wondered if we were the only folks who didn't know about it.”

The waitress cocked her head, giving Remy the once-over look only somebody digging for information can give.  “Funny you should ask.  Two men headed through here late yesterday evening.  Big burly guys.  Didn't seem like they were from around here ‘cause they had strange accents.  I couldn't place 'em, but Cookie said they sounded foreign to him.”  She leaned forward, and her voice dropped down to a whisper even though nobody else was within hearing distance. Except for the lone diner seated at the counter, but he was clear across the room.  “He thought maybe they were Russians.”

She straightened up after her big announcement and watched them intently, waiting for some sort of reaction, and Jinx knew they couldn't disappoint her.  That would seem even more suspicious.

“Really?  Russians?  Wonder what they wanted in the middle of Louisiana?”  She glanced over at Remy, noted him reaching for his wallet and kicked him underneath the booth, making contact with his shin.  When his eyes met hers with a surprised glint, she shook her head, and mouthed “no”, jerking her head toward his wallet which he shoved back into his pocket.

“You let Darryl know this is the best breakfast I've ever eaten, will you?”  She put another bite of sausage in her mouth, but it tasted dull and bland now, her appetite gone.

“I agree, this is excellent.  Plus, you can't beat this great coffee.”  Remy winked at their waitress, and she blushed like a schoolgirl.

“Honey, I've got an idea.”  Remy smiled at Jinx and she leaned back against the seat and folded her arms across her chest.  She didn't like his tone; he was up to something.  Keeping her mouth shut she looked at him, waiting for him to expound on his idea.

“Sweetheart, since we've got a little time to spare, waiting for our friend, why don't we head on down and join in the festivities?  I'm dying to see the noodling up close and personal, now that I've heard all about it.  How about you?”  The twinkle in Remy's eye dared her to say no.

Oh, she was going to get even with him.  First a fishing shack in the back of beyond with no electricity.  Well, okay, that had turned out pretty great, since they'd spent the entire night making love.  But, watching people catch fish?  Not exactly her idea of a dream date.  Then again, with the Russians ahead of them now, at least according to their waitress, spending a little time letting them get farther up the road and putting miles between them didn't seem like such a bad idea.

“Honey, that sounds fabulous.  Finish eating so we can get there right away.” 

Jinx turned to the waitress.  “Do you have any muffins or bagels or anything portable we could take with us to munch on?”

“Don’t you worry about food.  There are tons of booths and things set up with everything you'd possibly want to eat, right there on the grounds.  You definitely won't go hungry.”

“Thanks.”  Remy reached across the table and squeezed her hand, just a little too tight.  Tempted to give him another swift kick, but instead she smiled and fluttered her lashes at him.

“I'm ready whenever you are, honey.”  Her words sounded sweet, but Remy was a sharp cookie, and knew he was in trouble. 
Fishing?
  She'd show him fishing.  “Pay the nice lady.  The faster we get there, the sooner the fun begins.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

T
hey ended up down on the lake, teeming with people.  The waitress had been right.  It looked like everybody from miles around had shown up.  Huge barbeque smokers were set up around the outer perimeter, the grassy areas filled with endless tables holding so much food they overflowed.  Metal washtubs filled with ice held a variety of cans and bottles of cold sodas, juices and beer.

If they weren't on the run for their lives, Remy thought, this would actually be fun.  He glanced at Jinx, watched her lean down to pet a black lab puppy on a leash held by a young boy, maybe ten or eleven years old.  His glazed expression caused Remy to smile.  Yep, he understood exactly how the kid felt.  Jinx didn't have a clue how much appeal she had without even trying.  Lush, generous curves, a killer smile, and a genuinely sweet personality.  She drew people, especially men, like flies to honey. 
Why wouldn't she?
  They knew the real thing when they saw it, and she was one hundred percent the genuine article.  Damn, why couldn't he have met her without all the drama of her brother being shot, fleeing from Dubshenko and the Russian mob and trying to figure out exactly why Dubshenko was so desperate to find Jinx in the first place.  She still hadn't given any clue to what Dubshenko thought she had—or why it was so important.

He needed to check in with Max or Captain Hilliard, see if they'd made any progress on finding her brother, or why Dubshenko was so hell bent on getting his paws on Jinx.

Wouldn't it kill Dubshenko to know I've had my paws all over her already, and plan to again as soon as I get the chance?

“Jinx?”

She looked up at the sound of his voice, her hand still scratching behind the puppy's ears. He crooked his finger at her and she gave the dog a final pat, said good-bye to the kid and glided over to join him.  Even dressed casually in wrinkled clothes, and sneakers, the woman looked mouthwateringly gorgeous.  Like stop-you-in-your tracks stunning.  She didn't flaunt her assets, though she had some great ones with plenty to spare.  She was simply Jinx.

“Will you be okay here for a few minutes?  I'm going to call Captain Hilliard, see if there's any news.”

She bit her lower lip, and Remy wanted to pull it free from her teeth and lave it with his tongue before sucking it into his mouth.  Such a simple thing, yet he wanted her with a fierceness he couldn't explain.   This impossible woman aroused feelings he'd never experienced before, and unfortunately didn't have time to explore fully now.  He wanted this entire mess finished first.  Over and done.  Then he'd get to know her, explore whether they had something to build a future on.

Chapter Twenty-Three

D
aniel Delaney lived for the spotlight, which left him with two basic choices, acting or politics.  Then again, weren't they both two sides of the same coin?  He spotted his wife across the room, impeccably groomed in an ice-blue sheath dress, diamonds glittering in her ears.  Blonde hair in an up-do that had cost a fortune, makeup perfect.  She was a striking counterbalance for him, with his dark-hair and brown eyes.  She was talking with the senator from Florida, the one who'd been on the fence about giving support to his candidacy.  Leave it to his darling Amy, she'd have him eating out of her hands in no time.  Fortunately, his lovely wife was nearly as ambitious as he was, and had set her sights on the Governor's mansion.  She played her part to perfection.

Another charity event, this one a five hundred dollar a plate event, had he and his opponent shaking hands and making small talk with their constituency.  Thank goodness it was an afternoon thing, and he didn't have to spend his entire evening dealing with people he couldn't stomach.

Not three feet away from his wife, Jonathan Caine smiled at the chairman of this charity extravaganza, schmoozing and butt kissing, things he excelled at.

Daniel looked at it as an integral part of life in politics.  If you wanted to get ahead, you needed to shake a few hands, kiss a few babies and know where all the skeletons were buried.

Fortunately, he was very good at what he did, and had dirt on every influential person attending this party.  Knew when to play his cards close to the vest, and when to bet it all.  He smiled at the thought.

Might be time to head to Vegas soon
.  He did love a good poker game.

“Daniel.”  Jonathan Caine stood beside him, hand outstretched.  His white smile reminded Daniel of a barracuda, teeth all sharp and pointy and ready to tear you to pieces without provocation.

“Jon.”  Knew the barb struck home with Caine's moue of distaste.  The fool hated to be called by the diminutive name. 
Which was exactly why he did it.

“Less than a week until the special election, and we're still neck-and-neck in the poles.”

Daniel hated the smirk on the other man's face, like he knew something he didn't.  Caine was an upstart, thinking to rise through the ranks of Louisiana's hierarchy without paying his dues first.  Unlike Daniel himself—he'd been carefully groomed for his position all his life.  Nobody was taking away his big chance.

“May the best man win.”  Daniel held out his hand, knowing everyone's eyes were on them.  “If you'll excuse me, I need to join my wife.”  Another little barb, sure to dig at Caine.  The man wasn't married, never had been, and that was a sticking point with a lot of voters.

“Give her my best.”  With that, Caine walked away, leaving Delaney feeling victorious.  In this little skirmish he'd been the clear winner, just like on Tuesday, he planned to be the victor no matter what it took.

Chapter Twenty-Four

G
uilt gnawed at her, but Jinx didn't have a choice.  Remy'd told her absolutely no phone calls, no internet.  No contact with anybody until they'd heard from his brother, Max, or from Captain Hilliard.  Yet sitting around and waiting wasn't in her makeup.  Here at the festival everyone milled around, small groups and families moving from table to table.  Make-shift stalls were decorated to entice, selling food and handcrafted touristy items.

People weren't paying close attention to anybody, even strangers, which made it easy for Jinx to let old habits rise to the surface, long forgotten skills she'd hoped forgotten, but some things never change.  The cell phone in her hand was a perfect example.  Within seconds it had gone from her mark's pocket to hers, without him any the wiser.  Guilt raised it head, but she beat it down into submission.  Heck, she only needed to make a single phone call, then she'd make sure it got returned to its rightful owner.

Dialing her home number, she prayed Carlo picked up, knowing it a longshot at best.  Damn, she wished she know where he disappeared, how badly he was hurt.  His voice, weak and thready on Dubshenko's call replayed through her head for the hundredth time.  At least she knew he was alive—or had been during that fateful call.

After four rings, the call switched to her voice mail system.  Thankfully, it was part of her cable/phone package, so she didn't need to keep an antiquated answering machine. 
Three messages
.  Mentally crossing her fingers, she entered the pass code and listened.  First message was Sally Ann from work, wondering why she hadn't shown up.  Oh well, maybe she'd still have a job when this was all over, maybe not.  The next call was from her mother.  Uh oh.  Mama yammered on and on—why hadn't she come to visit?  Why did Carlo never call?  When was she going to find a man and settle down and give her grandbabies?  Nothing new there, either.  Her mother called every couple of weeks, expecting Jinx to drop everything and come home.  It was a longstanding argument, but mama hadn't won yet.  Jinx valued her independence, and refused to be pulled back into the grifter lifestyle.