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“He called earlier and told us he’d meet us here at seven.” Hal lifted his chin toward Jack who leaned against the cathedral fence. Both Paul and Lloyd languished in jail without bail, and Big Easy Bounty Hunters would soon pocket the FBI’s reward for Paul’s arrest. There was no reward for Benedetto. The DEA had still been looking for enough evidence to issue a warrant.
Nearly 7:00 p.m. now. She needed to start. A glance up and down Royal revealed a dog walker and a woman carrying grocery bags, but no Mitch. “When did he call?”
“This afternoon.”
Hours ago. No one else appeared to be rushing her way, but Mitch knew her route and could find her group. If he wanted to.
Cath straightened her shoulders and steered her customers past the garden, explaining the history of the St. Louis Cathedral.
The sound of pounding feet drew everyone’s attention. A man headed their way. She urged her customers closer to the entrance of Pere Antoine Alley, but the jogger came to a stop under a street lantern right in front of her.
She smiled at now-familiar shoulders stretching a tan windbreaker, the dark cap of hair, and the two-hundred-push-ups body whose scars and snake tattoo she traced in her dreams.
“Is it too late to join the tour?” With a brash grin, her hunky bounty hunter pulled out his wallet. Instead of his masculine assurance putting her back up this time, warm ripples sloshed against her insides.
“Of course not.” She needed the money to pay for Les’s new lawyer.
She delivered her spiel about the singing priest and walked down the alley to Jackson Square. A crescent moon hung in a clear sky tonight. A complete turnaround from the last time she’d led her ghost walk. Her whole life had turned around. She now had the confidence to take risks, with the added bonus that came from trusting a big, tough bounty hunter.
“I didn’t hear the priest.” Mitch braced a shoe on the bench beside her.
“If you keep coming on these tours, you could get lucky.” She ran a finger down the row of buttons on his white shirt, releasing the scents of soap and starch. When he’d dropped her off this morning, he’d been wearing his bail recovery T-shirt. He looked good in that, better shirtless, but outstanding when he spruced up. Dare she hope he wore his fancy clothes to impress her?
“I feel pretty lucky already.” In the lights from the corner restaurant, his golden-brown eyes gleamed.
She clasped her hands and beamed back. “You never said what you were going to do today.”
“I helped Jack stake out someone who knows his fugitive.”
“A Judas, huh?”
“Hey.” His eyebrows rose. “You’re picking up the lingo.”
“Hard not to when I’ve been living with four”—she counted on her fingers—“bounty hunters.”
“I also went to see your brother’s lawyer.”
She opened and closed her mouth. Mitch had spiffed up for the attorney. Not her.
“He thinks he can get your brother a good plea deal since he’s willing to testify. Plus, he’s going to make the case for police discrimination because of your brother’s hearing loss.”
She’d get her baby brother back. A little older, but a lot wiser. She brushed her fingers along Mitch’s strong jaw. “Thank you for helping with his defense.”
He stared at her, a frown rumpling his forehead. “I told you I would. I hope Les is starting to accept me now.”
“You didn’t care anything about that before.”
“He’s an important part of your life, but in case you haven’t noticed, I’ve changed some.” Mitch pushed his hands into his pockets. “What I mean is you’ve made me more aware. Helped me feel more comfortable with my own brother.”
She pulled her gaze from the lighted facade of the historic buildings facing Jackson Square to the bend-no-rules profile that hid such a compassionate heart. “My brother told me yesterday he appreciated what you did at the grocery.”
“I appreciate what Les did too. If he hadn’t yelled a warning, I definitely could have wound up in the hospital.” Mitch pressed her against his side, his smile twisting wryly. “I was so worried about you.”
“When?”
“Since…you know.” He rolled his hand to avoid stating the rest.
No, no, no. He wasn’t getting away with this cryptic answer. “When?”
