Bubba Dub Dub

by Sam Cheever

  Text copyright ©2015 by the Author.

  This work was made possible by a special license through the Kindle Worlds publishing program and has not necessarily been reviewed by Jana DeLeon. All characters, scenes, events, plots and related elements appearing in the original The Miss Fortune Series remain the exclusive copyrighted and/or trademarked property of Jana DeLeon, or their affiliates or licensors.

  For more information on Kindle Worlds: http://www.amazon.com/kindleworlds

  Bubba Dub Dub, three crooks in a tub,

  And only enough scratch for two!

  Felicity Chance returns to Sinful looking for a message from her father. Following a trail of clues Felly hopes will help her find him, she enlists the invaluable…and distracting…aid of Swamp Team 3. Unfortunately their search is complicated by the usual things—Carter and new mayor Celia Arceneaux have made it their mission to keep a close eye on Swamp Team 3 plus 1. The team also finds itself running from the Russian Mafia as well as the local bad guys. Will Felly and the Swamp Team find her father before all the bad guys do? Or will she get bogged down by the swamp, and sucked into the muck of her father’s shady past?

  CHAPTER ONE

  Looking back now, I realize I should have never answered the phone. But I suffer from an insatiable need to know who’s on the other end of a ringing phone.

  It’s a curse.

  “Hello.”

  “Chance. It’s Rouse.”

  “Huh?”

  A burst of frustrated air filled the line. “Detective Paul Rouse. The guy who put your dad into protective custody?”

  Fear did a little dance on my lungs. I nodded.

  “Are you nodding? You know this is a phone right. We’re not doing that FaceOff thing.”

  “We’re not playing hockey either. It’s called Face Time. What do you want, Rouse?” Yeah, the guy had saved my dad from notorious Russian mobster, Nicolai Ruchoff. But he was an ass of the first order and I didn’t have to like him.

  “Whatever. I need to know where your dad’s at.”

  “Where he’s at?”

  “That’s what I said. You hard o’ hearin’?”

  “Unfortunately, I’m hearing you all too well. Your speech is an affront to my Masters in English.”

  “You got a Masters in English? What for?”

  “I ask myself that every day.”

  “Just tell me where your dad’s at. Then you and me can go our separated ways.”

  “You tell me. The last time I laid eyes on him he was looking out the back window of that big black car you were driving.”

  “You ain’t talked to him recently?”

  “That’s kind of how witness protection works.”

  Silence met my astute observation and I had a horrible thought. “Oh my god.”

  “It ain’t my fault.”

  “How could you have lost him? He’s basically just a flippin’ accountant.”

  “He’s very cagey, your dad. One minute he’s soakin’ in a bubble bath and the next, he’s in the wind.”

  “Dear god in heaven. Please tell me you didn’t fall for the bubble bath scam.”

  More silence.

  “Where do you think he’s at?”

  I reached up and tugged on my hair, one dangling preposition away from going full frontal crazy on the guy. “I don’t bleepin’ know where he’s at! But you’d better find him. Because if Ruchoff finds him before you do he’s a dead man.”

  “Okay, okay. Don’t bust somethin’. I’m sure we’ll find him. He kind of sucks at hiding.” Rouse laughed. “The last time he pretty much laid a trail of crumbs for me to follow.”

  “Funny how you couldn’t find or follow those crumbs until my PI found him first.”

  “Minor detail. Hey…by the way…you got that PI’s number you could give me?”

  I slammed the phone down and started to pace, my mind racing. Where would my father go? Rouse was right about one thing, Felonius Chance was cagey. He was cagey enough, in fact, to do exactly what nobody expected him to do.

  He couldn’t take a flight anywhere. The feds would be onto him in a heartbeat. They’d also have the bus lines and train stations covered. He couldn’t use the ID they’d given him and he couldn’t use his real name. He’d have to sink into the background…become white noise.

  He’d gone south before, burying himself in the Bayou. The Marshals would no doubt expect him to go an entirely different direction this time. Maybe travel north, crossing the border into Canada.

  I shook my head, grabbing my cell phone. My father would follow his initial instincts to get lost somewhere nobody wanted to look for him. But first, he’d want to touch base with me, because I’d told him I’d never speak to him if he got himself lost again without finding a way to notify me. I thought I knew what form that notification would take. It was a long shot, but at least it was a place to start.

  I quickly dialed Cal’s number and headed into my closet to pack.

  He answered on the fifth ring, right before I gave up and disconnected. “Hey, Felicity. We still on for dinner Saturday?”

  Heat filled my cheeks at the reminder. I’d been bleaching a lot of brain cells over the last few days trying to forget about that date. I had no idea what I was thinking when I’d agreed to dinner with my oh so sexy but terminally proper PI. I was sooo not ready to get into an emotional clinch with Cal Amity. “Maybe not. I need to hire you again.”

  “Oh? Are you in trouble?”

  I told him about my father disappearing.

  I pictured his stern, implacable expression in the silence that followed. “Why would he run away from witness protection? Does he not understand how dangerous Ruchoff is?”

  “He understands completely, which is why he probably ran. If he testifies against the mob, they won’t stop until they kill him.”

  “They’re not going to believe he won’t talk. As long as he’s alive he’s a threat.”

  I swallowed the fear Cal’s unbending observation caused. “That’s why we need to find him, Cal. We need to try to make him see reason.”

  “Do you have any idea where he might be?”

  Finally, I sighed, a man who knew how to ask a proper question without something ugly dangling at the end of it. “I think I might. Or at least I know where he might leave me a message so we can find him.”

  “Where?” Movement noises told me Cal was jumping into action. I smiled. I really loved a man of action. Especially one with bedroom eyes the color of the ocean and silky midnight colored hair.

  “Pack your shorts and sunscreen, Cal. You and I are heading back to Sinful.”

  ###

  Pulling up to the Backwater Inn was the ugliest kind of déjà vu. The long, squat building was just as I remembered it. The kitschy concrete alligator still crouched in front of the office door, and the long, brown ribbon of the Bayou still wound along behind the building, lending the dilapidated structure an unfortunate, mosquito-rich ambiance.

  “It’s good to be home,” Cal joked with a stern face.

  I blew a raspberry and shook my head. “The only thing keeping me from turning tail and running right now is the thought of Francine’s banana pudding.”

  Cal’s sexy Caribbean blue gaze went soft at the thought. “There is that.” He slammed the door of the dusty Jeep we’d rented in n’awlins and started for the office. “I’ll get us a room.”

  “Two rooms, Cal. I’m buying.”

  He turned as he grasped the door handle and gave me a long, slow grin that made my knees knock together. I knew in that moment that the Backwater would be full and there would be only one room. It was in my DNA to be just that unlucky.

  Not that spending a night or two in the same room with sexy Cal Amity would be a terrible thing. Just t
he opposite. It would be exquisitely, deliciously painful. Because I had no intention of giving in to my raging lust for him.

  At least not until I’d known him longer than a week.

  I leaned against the car and closed my eyes, letting the Louisiana sun seep into my pores. Several hours in the stuffy confines of an airport, then an airplane, then a car had turned my butt doughy and my mind to mush. I thought about taking a walk along the Bayou later. After Cal and I ran the errand I hoped would send us on my father’s trail.

  The door slammed behind me and I turned to the intrepid Cal, knowing before he opened his luscious lips what he was going to say.

  “The Inn’s sold out.”

  I nodded, saying the next sentence with him. “There was only one room.”

  Cal narrowed his Caribbean blues at me and lifted one eyebrow, a skill not everyone could master. “It really is sold out.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  His bite-able lips tightened at my obvious disbelief. “I’ll sleep in the car.”

  I’m ashamed to say that his attempt to make me feel guilty worked. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m just teasing. I trust you to stay in your own bed.”

  He frowned and the first inklings of terror crept through me. “I don’t like the look of that frown.”

  He shrugged. “I’ll sleep in the car. No worries.” Cal opened the hatch and pulled out our bags, handing me my beaded, alligator-shaped purse. Since returning from Sinful the previous week I hadn’t carried anything else. I’d bought the purse the last time I’d been in town and it had sentimental value. Also, it was adorably gaudy. My favorite fashion statement.

  “There’s only one bed in the room…isn’t there?”

  He scanned me a look that was probably supposed to be apologetic, but it contained far too much heat for a true apology.

  I gulped, knowing I should tell him it was all right. He could sleep above the covers and I could sleep below them. But the words just wouldn’t come out of my mouth.

  It wasn’t that I didn’t trust Cal. A more trustworthy man most likely never existed. But I knew in my heart of lascivious hearts that given a full night of imagination time, a couple of thin layers of cotton would not be enough to keep me away from the heaven that was Cal Amity.

  I was seriously screwed.

  Oops! Poor choice of words.

  ###

  We stopped into the dark, musty-smelling room just long enough to drop our bags and change into shorts and tee-shirts. I felt ridiculously better once I got out of my moist, wrinkly travel clothes. Cal traded a pair of khaki slacks with a perfect crease for a pair of khaki shorts with a perfect crease and donned leather sandals that showcased his wide feet and toned calves covered in soft, black hair.

  He grabbed his keys and headed for the door, opening it and looking back at me. I stood beside the bed with drool pooling in my mouth, thinking the heat had maybe melted my brain.

  “Felicity?”

  I blinked. “Oh. Sorry. I was having visions of banana pudding.” I lied so good.

  “Are you hungry? Would you like to eat something before we go out to the cabin?”

  I considered his suggestion for a minute but shook my head. “No. Let’s get this over with. The sooner I can get the message from my dad the sooner we can get out of here and find him.”

  He held the door for me and I slipped past, inhaling his yummy scent on the way by.

  “I’m surprised you’re in such a hurry to leave Sinful. I thought you liked it here.”

  I couldn’t exactly tell him the last time we were there Fortune had warned me never to return so I shrugged. “I do like Sinful. It’s just so hot and buggy here.”

  I grimaced as I said the words, realizing how hopelessly girly they made me sound. “But it will be nice to see Ida Belle and Gertie.”

  Cal nodded and opened the door of the Jeep for me. I slipped into the passenger seat feeling all warm and tingly inside. He was the only man I’d been around for years who treated a lady like a lady. It was kind of nice.

  As we left the gravel lot of the Backwater Inn and headed toward Main Street, Cal glanced my way. “So you never explained why you think your father will leave you a message at the old cabin where we found him.”

  I shrugged. “It’s just a gut feeling.” I was too embarrassed to tell Cal about our childhood game of clue. My father was gone so much when I was little that I always used to complain I was going to set out on my own one day, find him and drag him home.

  He’d laughed at my childish threats and kissed the top of my head, promising the next time he’d leave me a path to follow. True to his word, the next time Felonius Chance went out of town on business, he left me a trail of clues that ended at a DVD of him telling me he loved me and that he’d be home soon.

  Over the years the clues had started to lead to expensive gifts and tickets to events he would take me to when he got home. The game was one of my fondest childhood memories.

  I believed it was the same for him. Which was the reason I was sure he’d renew the practice now. Especially since it might be the only way I could find him.

  Since I couldn’t explain all that to the intrepid Cal without embarrassing myself, I said nothing. And left him with his obvious doubts as to the eventual success of our quest.

  CHAPTER TWO

  The cabin where we’d found my father several days earlier looked exactly as I remembered it. The windows were dark behind closed curtains, the yellow bike still rested against the big cypress tree, and the place looked empty.

  However, it had also looked empty when Felonius Chance had been hiding out there.

  Cal scanned the area carefully as I headed for the door. He reached out and touched my arm before I could try the knob. “Considering the people who are after your dad, I think we should be careful entering this cabin.”

  I grimaced. “We’re much more likely to bump up against a couple of juvenile gators in this cabin than any Russian mobsters.” I glanced around. “Besides, there are no other cars here.”

  He gave me his trademark, you’re really not very smart, are you? look. “You don’t think the Russians are smart enough to park down the road?”

  I scanned a look at the rented Jeep sitting right in front of the cabin and peaked a brow in silent derision.

  Cal glared at me. “Just stand back for a minute and let me check this out first.”

  I motioned toward the door then crossed my arms and counted to ten. I half hoped the gators jumped out and gave his kneecaps a love bite when he opened the door.

  But I soon forgot my pique when Cal pulled a small, silver pistol from under his shirt. “Why Cal Amity—“

  “Shhh!”

  I slammed my lips closed and glared at him as he stood to the side of the door and turned the knob. I’d expected it to be locked, but it swung open at his touch. Cal looked at me, jerking his head to indicate he wanted me to step farther away. I considered holding my ground just because he was being so bossy. In the end, however, I decided it made more sense to be alive than a rebel.

  He shoved the door into the dark interior and peered inside for a beat before moving through, gun pointing toward the ceiling.

  I gave him a minute to scan the two small rooms before following him inside.

  Cal was just coming out of the bedroom when I stepped into the warm, mustiness of the Bayou cabin.

  I looked at him hopefully. “Anything?”

  Shaking his head, Cal peered into the small bathroom. “Empty.”

  I nodded. “Good. I’ll start with the bedroom.”

  “I’ll take the kitchen. What exactly are we looking for?” he asked me.

  “I’m not sure. Some kind of message.”

  He opened the refrigerator and stuck his head inside. “Like, Felly I’m in n’awlins, written in catsup?”

  “No. Really?”

  He chuckled and I realized he’d been teasing. “Jerk.”

  The dark bedroom was just about big enough for a queen-sized
bed and a nightstand and not much else. I flipped the wall switch just inside the door and nothing happened. I swore to myself, wishing I’d thought to bring a flashlight. My gaze scanned to the single, small window on the front wall. It was covered in dark curtains that must have been lined because only the barest ribbon of light showed around their edges. Moving carefully across the room, I reached up and tugged on the heavy fabric and then sneezed as dust bloomed on the air.

  Sun blared through the dirty glass, bathing me and the room in stifling heat. Sneezing again, I looked around at the mess that had been my father’s bedroom. Drawers had been yanked open and their contents strewn over the floor. The bedding had been ripped back and a large X cut into the mattress. Stuffing puffed along the floor when my movements created a draft.

  As I watched in horror, the surface of the mattress shifted and a tiny, brown head peeked out. The mouse took one look at me and dove back into its hidey hole.

  I shuddered, not a fan of rodents. “I guess I’m not searching the mattress,” I murmured. Instead, I contented myself with dropping to my knees and carefully looking under the bed. All I saw was a pile of clothes I assumed was laundry.

  My father had never been the tidiest person.

  “Anything?”

  I yelped at the sound of Cal’s deep voice and jumped, slamming my head against the bed frame. “Ouch! Dangit!” I sat up, rubbing my head.”

  Cal’s footsteps came lightly across the floor and he appeared beside the bed. “You okay?”

  I frowned up at him, still rubbing the knot on my head. “Nothing here except some very comfy mice. You?” I asked hopefully.

  “Nothing. The outer room is clue free unless mouse droppings and dust can be considered clues.”

  Cal offered me his hand and pulled me to my feet. I brushed dust off my knees, fighting frustration. It looked like my plan to find my father was a non-starter.

  Sighing, I nodded. “I guess we might as well leave.”

  But Cal was eyeing the mattress. “It looks like the Russians were already here.”

  “Yeah. I wonder what they were looking for.” Surely they didn’t know about Felonius and my childhood game.