Unlucky

by Jana DeLeon

  The shot rang out and Jake involuntarily ducked, Mallory right alongside him. He checked himself for an entry wound, then looked at Mallory, who stared over his shoulder in surprise. Jake whirled around and found himself looking down the barrel of a smoking gun.

  Held by Mark's wife, Janine.

  One glance over at his partner let Jake know the score. Mark lay on the ground, his chest barely rising, the blood seeping from the center of his stomach.

  Janine smiled at Jake, then looked over at Silas. "I told you Mark was too weak. He would have been a liability."

  Jake stared at Janine, the woman he'd previously viewed as helpless, trying to wrap his mind around what was happening, when his conversation with Brad flashed through his mind. Janine, who had grown up around New Orleans. Janine, who had worked for a bank.

  Janine turned back to face Jake. "Mark was more than a little disturbed that the woman he'd been in love with for fifteen years was a money launderer, especially when he found out that my partner was the man the two of you had been chasing."

  She laughed. "Why do you think you never caught Silas? Mark was a carefully selected husband. I knew every move the two of you were going to make before you took one step out the door."

  Jake's mind whirled. "So Mark wasn't in on this from the beginning, but he was posing as Silas's employee at the casino. He stopped making his check-ins at the bureau."

  "What were his options - arrest the mother of his child? I don't think so. Mark wasn't very smart, but he was loyal, and you know I always came before his job. She glanced over at Mark's body, now still on the concrete. "Besides, who would have believed him if he'd turned me in? He would have gone down right along with me, and I don't have to tell you how prison is for federal agents."

  She shrugged and turned away from her husband's body, not an ounce of remorse on her face. Jake felt his skin crawl.

  "Oh, well," she continued. "Collateral damage can't be helped. Silas tried to get him on board, but Mark worried too much about everything. He would never have handled the pressure long-term."

  Jake stared at Janine, his mind racing to come up with a way out of this and finding nothing. The only option was to stall for time, hoping that he either came up with an idea or someone from the ATF came looking for them. "How did you manage to get guns on board? I thought the ATF screened everyone before entry."

  Janine gave him a bored look. "Yeah, but you know how it is - people never look too hard at servants ... daily help. I've been working in the kitchen the entire tournament, with no fewer than five undercover ATF agents, and no one has even blinked at me. We're invisible. It was a simple matter to come in with the freight one morning and stash the guns in my locker."

  She waved one hand toward Jake. "I'm done with the entertainment portion of the afternoon. Send your girlfriend over here, nice and easy."

  Jake felt Mallory stiffen and he knew that if there was any chance of either of them coming out of this alive, he had to come up with something and fast. He looked back at her, saw the fright in her eyes, but knew she wouldn't back down if he called her into action. They would have only one opportunity out of this and that was a one-on-one battle, him against Silas and her against Janine.

  He would have given them a decent shot if the guns hadn't been in the equation.

  As Mallory walked slowly toward Janine, Jake heard Silas move up behind him. "Don't do anything foolish," Silas instructed. "I'd hate for your mother to arrange a closed-coffin funeral, or St. Claire for that matter."

  Jake clenched his teeth. "You won't get away with this. Too many people know why I'm here."

  Silas laughed. "You think I care how many people know? You're the only witness who can prove that money came from me. Now, you've got a chunk of counterfeit cash, probably tucked away in one of Reginald's safes, and Janine hid the plates in his storeroom this morning while she was getting more stock for the kitchen. When the FBI gets done tearing this boat apart, the only person left holding the bag will be Reginald St. Claire.

  "And do you know what the best part is?" Silas asked. "The best part is it was feds that made all this possible. Without the ATF and their player's list, do you really think Reginald St. Claire would have ever let me set foot on his casino? I've been waiting for this opportunity for thirty years."

  Jake looked over at Mallory, who stood just in front of Janine, a gun pressed to the back of her head.

  "These FBI guys think they're so smart," Janine said with a laugh. "Let's get this over with." She grabbed Mallory by the arm and pushed her into a stack of empty crates, then stepped back a couple of feet and took aim at her with her pistol.

  "Don't touch her," Silas yelled as Janine grabbed Mallory's arm, but his warning came too late.

  A second later, Janine squeezed the trigger and Jake braced himself for the worst, but only a click emitted from the weapon.

  "Stupid," Silas ranted. "I told you not to touch her."

  Janine studied the gun for a moment, then lifted it again, pulling the trigger back again and again, but the gun never fired.

  Mallory glanced at Jake for a millisecond, but he read everything he needed to in her eyes. As she lunged at Janine, he swung around, his fist connecting with Silas Hebert's face. Before Silas could gather himself, Jake kicked the gun from his hand and sent it sprawling across the storeroom floor.

  As Jake squared off in front of Silas, he heard a crash behind him and Janine cried out in pain. He set himself up for the second punch, but before he could land it, Silas grabbed a can off the shelf behind it and clocked him in the side of the head.

  His ear felt like it exploded from the impact, and his vision blurred. He took a step back, ensuring Silas couldn't connect with him again, hoping his vision would quickly return to normal. Everything was gray and white and seemed to swim in front of him. He could dimly make out Silas's form and he braced himself for another hit, but the form grew smaller and Jake realized Silas was moving away from him.

  In the direction of the gun.

  He rushed toward the gray figure, his only hope to tackle him before he reached the weapon, but Jake came up several feet short. His vision cleared just as Silas smiled and leveled the weapon at Jake's head. "I think my business here is done."

  Jake looked over at Mallory, who was standing over a somewhat battered Janine. He hoped this final connection between them told her everything he wanted her to know. How much he respected her, how much he had come to love her, need her, and how very sorry he was that things were going to end this way. She stared back at him, her eyes full of the same emotion, and Jake regretted the things he'd never said to her, the future they'd never have.

  He heard the shot as it fired and waited for his body to register the bullet's entry, but as he looked back at his nemesis, he saw the look of shock on the other man's face and the blood beginning to trickle out of his side. Silas clutched his side, dropped the gun and turned toward the storeroom door.

  Jake ran over and grabbed the gun off the floor before turning to see who their savior was. He blinked in surprise at the sight of Father Thomas standing in the doorway, a pistol peeking from the sleeve of his robe. He heard shouting in the hallway and a second later, Brad and two other ATF agents burst into the storeroom.

  Brad quickly assessed the situation and directed his men to handcuff the still-bleeding Silas and a very subdued-looking Janine. He looked around the warehouse, studying their faces. "You all right?"

  Everyone nodded, and Father Thomas smiled. "Never better," the priest said.

  Brad nodded and motioned to his men, who lifted Silas and Janine from the floor and followed Brad out of the storeroom. Jake watched them leave, then looked at Mallory, who stood staring at Father Thomas, shocked.

  "Father Thomas?" Mallory said. "What in God's name?"

  Before he could answer, Amy and Scooter burst through the door, followed closely by Reginald. Amy rushed across the room and flung her arms around Mallory. "Oh, my God, I was so worried. I was afraid you were
dead." She released Mallory and sniffed. "Scooter and I saw you on the cameras, running down the hall. We went for help, but it took too long."

  Scooter shuffled over next to Amy and gave Mallory a grin. "Gave me a scare, Mal."

  "Got that right," Reginald seconded, and pushed Amy aside so he could give Mallory a hug. "I'm glad you're still with us." He released Mallory and looked over at Father Thomas. "You've still got it, you old bird," he said, and grinned.

  Father Thomas smiled. "The Lord works in mysterious ways."

  Mallory looked from Reginald to Father Thomas. "What the hell is going on here?"

  Father Thomas stepped closer to Mallory and placed his hand on her arm. "Don't let it vex you so much, dear. Everything in life is not what it seems. Or maybe I should say everything in life is not always what it seems."

  Mallory blinked and stared at the priest in amazement. "You had a gun. You shot Silas."

  Father Thomas nodded. "It's only an entry wound. The son of a bitch should be fine to stand trial and hopefully spend a long, long time paying for what he's done to people."

  "An entry wound?" She stared at the priest, wondering what manner of creature had assumed the body of the drunk she knew and loved.

  Father Thomas smiled. "I spent some of my younger years serving this country in an, ah, sort of weapons-based role. When I returned to Royal Flush, I spent a great deal of time hunting with your uncle."

  Mallory shook her head, trying to wrap her mind around Father Thomas in the military, with weapons, knowing what an entry wound was and exactly how to create one instead of blowing someone away. "But you've been drinking like a sieve. How in the world ..."

  The dismay on the priest's face was almost comical. "Alas, one of Reginald's requirements was no drinking. His bartender has been pouring me only regular Coke." He glanced at his watch. "It's been exactly five days, two hours and sixteen minutes since my last drink."

  "Now, that's just not right," Scooter said, and shook his head.

  "But you've been drunk," Mallory said, her head swimming with confusion.

  Father Thomas shook his head. "Not drunk, just pretending. I was a pretty good actor in my high school days. When Reginald first told me of the ATF situation and asked for my help, I thought it would be better if I went as my usual self-or at least pretended to be." He shrugged. "People will say anything in front of drunks, you know. I gathered quite a bit of information that helped Reginald's dealers and provided a bit of distraction from time to time."

  Jake laughed. "Distraction is certainly one way of putting it."

  Father Thomas nodded. "Reginald is an old friend who was in a bad situation. I was happy to help. And when Mallory took the job cooling, Reginald and I were both relieved that I'd be there to monitor things - especially with Silas Hebert at the table." He gave them both a smile. "I'm glad I got here before it was too late. Who else could we get to shut down the Yankees at J.T.'s Bar?"

  "Unbelievable," Mallory said, unable to stop smiling.

  Father Thomas gave her arm a squeeze, then looked over at Reginald, Scooter and Amy. "I think we should give these two a moment, don't you?"

  Scooter threw one arm around the priest's shoulder. "Now, you're talking. Let's head to the restaurant. I'm pouring you the biggest damned Jack and Coke ever."

  "I'll drink to that," Reginald agreed.

  Amy watched the three of them walk away and smiled. "I'll wait for you in the restaurant," she said to Mallory, then followed the others out of the storeroom.

  As soon as the door shut behind Amy, Jake gently grasped Mallory's hand and pulled her close to him, wrapping his arms around her. "I thought I'd lost you," he whispered. "Thought I'd lost us, or I guess the us that could be."

  Mallory tightened her arms around him and buried her face in his neck, allowing herself to escape, if only for the moment, in the fantasy that she and Jake had a future, a real future. But even as he took her face in his hands and kissed her gently, she knew there was no way she could subject this man that she loved so much to her cursed life.

  Chapter Twenty

  "How's the business going?" Scooter asked as he slid his rod into the holder on his pier and grabbed another beer from the ice chest next to his lawn chair.

  Mallory cast her line into the bayou and leaned back in her lawn chair. "Good. It's been a lot of information to throw at the employees, what with the tax situation, Royal trying to buy us out, then Royal getting arrested. But everyone is happy that things turned out all right."

  "And Harry?"

  "Harry is especially happy. He barely let the ink dry on the legal papers transferring the business to me before he and Thelma headed to the Bahamas. Apparently they've always wanted to go."

  "I'm glad they got the chance."

  "Me too," she said and jiggled her rod a bit. "The fish aren't biting so well today, are they?"

  "Nah," Scooter agreed. "Too hot. Probably run late tonight."

  Mallory looked over at her friend and smiled. "Then I guess only one of us is going to catch any fish today, as lately, you've spent your nights occupied with other things."

  Scooter grinned at Mallory and lay back on the pier, holding one hand up to shield his eyes from the sun. "Who would have ever thought, right? Me and someone like Amy. She's, like, the smartest person in the world."

  "I'd have to agree with you on that one. The smartest I've ever known, anyway."

  "You ought to see the plans we've come up with for the casino. Your uncle is going to flip. Everything is state of the art-built-ins, fold-outs, stuff that rises from the floor and hides in the walls until you need to use it. He's going to make a fortune with this whole casino-of-the-future idea."

  "How is Reginald these days? I haven't seen him since the arraignment, and that was a week ago."

  "He's good. I met his girlfriend the other day – Glenda - she's kinda cool."

  "You're right again. That's two today, Scooter."

  Scooter sat up and looked over at Mallory, the smile dropping from his face. "Well, since I'm on a roll, I'm just gonna go ahead and say I think you ought to call Jake."

  Mallory looked over the bayou and struggled against the rush of emotions that ran through her every time she thought of Jake. "You know I can't, Scooter. I can't ask him to be with me when I know how things are. Things that will never change."

  Scooter shook his head. "That should still be his choice. And if you won't even take a phone call from him, how's the man supposed to plead his case?"

  "He's not. That's the whole point."

  Scooter sighed and lay back down on the pier. "Fine, but for the record, Amy and I both think you're making a mistake."

  Mallory slumped back in her chair and drew in a deep breath. So Scooter and Amy thought she was making a mistake. Well, there was a novel idea. Like Harry, J.T. and Father Thomas hadn't already told her the same thing, some in more polite terms, some in less. Even Brad had weighed in his opinion after the arraignment. It seemed that everyone in the state of Louisiana knew what was best for her.

  Except her.

  She wanted to call, wanted to answer the calls when she saw Jake's number on the caller ID. But ultimately, she'd been too afraid. Jake may be riding the first throes of romance and love right now, but what about years from now? When disaster after disaster, courtesy of Mallory's curse, affected every day of their lives? Would he still want her then? Still love her?

  She didn't see how he could, and was smart enough to know her heart wouldn't be able to take having him for a while, then losing him all over again. It still hadn't recovered from the five days they'd had together. How in the world would she pop back from a year, or two, or ten?

  "I knocked on your door." She jumped at the sound of Jake's voice behind her. "I should have known I'd find you two where there was fish and beer." He stepped onto the pier and walked over to her chair, smiling down at her.

  Scooter jumped up from the pier and nodded at Jake. "Guess I'll be heading in for a shower." He gave Mallo
ry a thumbs-up and hustled off like someone had just said "last call."

  Mallory stared at Jake, wondering what the hell he was doing there. But with the way Scooter had shot off the deck, not looking at her even once, Mallory was afraid the fix was in. She rose from her chair, not liking Jake standing above her. It made her feel she was at a disadvantage, and even though that was probably the case, she didn't need to feel worse about it than she already did.

  She looked at him for a moment but couldn't hold his gaze. Shoving her hands in her jeans pockets, she stared down at the pier.

  "You've been avoiding my calls," Jake said.

  Mallory shrugged and shuffled her feet a bit, still not looking up at him. "Wasn't any use wasting time."

  He placed one finger under her chin and tilted it up until she was forced to look at him. "You call what we have wasting time? Jesus, woman, what do you do when I'm not around that's so much more important?"

  Mallory sighed. "Jake, you know how I feel, but there's no future for us. Not with the way things are. You'd never have a normal moment for the rest of your life."

  "Who the hell said I was interested in normal?"

  "You did. Over and over again, when you explained to me how weird Louisiana and voodoo and me thinking I could cool cards was. Remember?"

  Jake waved a hand in dismissal. "Old news. The new Jake thinks normal is boring. How in the world could I go back to a regular life when I have a shot with a woman that makes cars explode after sex? Now that's something special."

  "Yeah, I bet Hertz was thrilled."

  "So I'll drive an old clunker and carry liability only."

  Mallory stared at Jake and shook her head. "It's not just the car. You know that."

  Jake reached down and drew both her hands into his. "What if I told you there was a way around it?"

  Mallory felt her heart leap into her throat at his words. "But, the voodoo woman said . . . "

  "She said there was no way to take the curse off you," Jake said gently. "She didn't say there wasn't a way to protect me from it."