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A marching band had stopped in the street outside, the rattle of the snare drums loud enough to follow the spectators inside. She stirred her iced drink and unwrapped her muffler. Any other time this would be a great meet spot, but not on one of the biggest parade nights of Mardi Gras. There were too many people. In too small a space and—
Her phone vibrated. Please don’t let this be my brother texting he’s changed his mind.
She grabbed her cell, saw the caller, and huffed out a breath. Mitch calling. Again.
Her finger hovered over the answer icon, her chest caught in a straitjacket. She’d promised to stay home. Instead, she’d snuck out. He would never trust her again. But once she convinced her brother to turn himself in tonight, she wouldn’t need to care whether or not Mitch trusted her.
His call went to voicemail, and she handed her empty glass to the passing waitress. Not five minutes later, her cell buzzed again. She started to ignore the call when she glanced down and recognized the number. Why was Bea calling her? Did she need help?
Cath nearly dropped her phone in her rush to answer. “Are you okay?”
“Yup, feeling better. I can come back to work anytime.”
“Don’t worry about that. Just get well. Besides, I’m not sure when I’ll reopen.” A man swinging a beer mug bumped her. Cath moved away and plugged an ear. “Why are you calling?”
“Your guy was here.”
“I don’t have a guy.” Cath squeezed her cell. A man had sought out her office manager. Her chest tightened. “Did he hurt you?”
“Of course not.”
“I’m confused, Bea.”
“I’m talking about the soldier with the hot body.”
Oh. Cath relaxed. A loud cheer went up at the bar, and she retreated to the restrooms’ hallway. “How did you know Mitch was a soldier?”
“It’s stamped all over him.”
She’d apparently missed that vibe, which was not surprising. In the beginning, she’d been working to ignore him altogether. “What did Mitch want?”
“I don’t know, but I think he wanted to see if you were over here.” Bea cleared her throat. “He said you weren’t answering your phone.”
Her chest pinched. He would be annoyed when he found her gone, but she’d never imagined he would come looking for her. He must be so tired right now. After last night. After helping Jack with the takedown. She clutched her four-leaf clover. “Was he okay? Not bleeding anywhere?”
“Heavens, no. He looked great. Where are you anyway?”
“I went out.” Cath pressed against the wall to let a couple of college girls pass. “Don’t worry.”
Bea said nothing. She hadn’t told Mitch because she hadn’t wanted him to show up and ruin things when she found her brother, but telling Bea wouldn’t make any difference. “You know that bar on the corner of Napoleon and St. Charles where the parades usually turn?”
“Across from the big redbrick church? I know where that is. I hope you’re being careful.”
“Yes, Mom.” The best thing she could say about the Retreat was that as soon as she’d entered, she’d felt safe. “There’re tons of people here. If anything happens, a hundred people can help me.”
“You still need to be careful,” Bea said.
“I will.” Cath ended the call and stepped into the bar proper. Less than five seconds later, a chill rippled over her. Someone was watching her. Her brother?
She skimmed the room for Les but met the gazes of a couple of randy college kids who started across the room toward her. She looked around for an escape.
A crowd had gathered at the waitress’s end of the bar. She ducked into their midst. After five minutes she stepped onto the footrail to see over the heads of the horde. The students had moved on to another target. She couldn’t see where, but they probably wouldn’t bother her now.
A hand curled around her waist from behind. They must have come up behind her. She slipped off the rail and whirled around. “How dare—”
Paul DiMartino tightened his hold and kissed her cheek before she could stop him.
Cath stumbled against a barstool. “You scared me to death.”
