“It’s not you, just a little sensitive today.” She pressed Cain’s hand flat on her chest and laughed at her hopeful look. “Way too early to tell that, love, and no, I don’t want you to stand the kids up. Mind if I tag along?”
“That’s like asking if I mind breathing.”
“You’re so sappy, aren’t you?”
They loaded into two cars so Lou, Merrick, Mook, and a few others could come. Emma still wasn’t comfortable with that level of protection, but she rarely said anything, knowing she’d never get Cain to bend on the subject. And rightfully so, she’d come to realize.
Since their return to New Orleans, Cain took this outing with them at least once a week. Emma would laugh the entire time, as Hannah always managed to cover her ever-patient partner in powdered sugar before they were done.
“Navy sweater, mobster.” Emma plucked at Cain’s top and shook her head. “Not a smart choice.”
“Those little handprints are going to look good on you too.” Cain patted her backside, referring to her black skirt.
Hannah led them to a table close to the entrance, wanting to listen to the older gentleman playing a saxophone right outside on the sidewalk. Emma was sure their little girl loved these outings with Cain and Hayden because New Orleans was so different from what she’d known, and Cain indulged her need to explore. Hannah was finally having the childhood she deserved, which hadn’t been possible living with her grandmother.
“Chocolate milk and donuts, Mom,” Hannah said, her hands on the metal railing and a smile on her face as the street musician played something with more pep.
Cain ordered for all of them and ran her hand along Hannah’s back, clearly enjoying her enthusiasm. Then the relaxed set to Cain’s mouth evaporated so quickly that Emma followed her line of sight and saw Juan Luis standing there staring at them. From the way his lip was twisted into a snarl, she could tell he was disgusted by what he saw.
“Cain.” She took hold of Cain’s hand as she stood up. “Leave it alone. Let Lou handle it.”
“I just want to talk to him, lass,” Cain said, the proof of T-Boy’s information eyeing her from behind Juan. Anthony Curtis was smiling so widely he looked almost idiotic. “Just a talk, I promise.”
She waved Lou off and stepped out, stopping five feet from Juan and his new employee. “Slumming?” she asked Anthony. “If you’re this hard up for work, I have openings at Emma’s for dishwashers.”
“Still trying to pretend you have a pair, Casey?” Juan said, finally locking eyes with her. Through the entire exchange up to now Anthony had been staring at Emma. “After seeing your little bastards, though, I’m almost convinced you might not be pretending. Or is it that the slut you—”
Cain grabbed Juan, spun him around, and slammed his head so forcefully into one of the café’s pillars, it split his lip. He pushed back in what she assumed was an attempt to get away and retaliate, but she easily held him in place.
“Listen up, because I’m only going to say it once,” she whispered in his ear, driving his head into the pillar again to make him stop squirming. “You do whatever you need done and get out of New Orleans. Come near my family while you’re here and I will kill you.”
“What was that, Casey?” Anthony asked, finally coming to Juan’s defense. “Assault in public isn’t usually your style. Want me to call the cops, Mr. Luis?”
Juan straightened his clothes and pressed the handkerchief Anthony offered him to his lip when Cain let him go. “Fuck off, Curtis. You,” he pointed at Cain, “got lucky today.”
She grabbed his finger and twisted up so much he screamed and dropped to his knees. When it was clear he wouldn’t resist anymore, she bent over and put her lips close to his ear again. “I don’t have to pretend to be a man as much as you do, hijo de puta.” She laughed and twisted his finger toward his wrist even harder, bringing tears to his eyes. “That’s the correct term, isn’t it? Your father wanted a quick fuck and your mother was quick to spread them, you son of a bitch.” The rage in his eyes bloomed stronger than the pain and she laughed harder. She let him go and stepped back to anticipate his next move. “Oh, yes, you’re not the only one who did a little digging into family trees.”
“I’m going to kill you for that,” Juan screamed as he lunged at her.
This time she opened a cut over his left eye when she slammed him into the pillar again. “Today is me being merciful, so remember what I said,” Cain told him. Behind her, two cars screeched to a stop, followed by slamming doors.
“Anthony, I’m going to have to ask you to come with the agents behind me,” Shelby said, pointing to the second car being driven by Joe Simmons.
“Cain Casey,” Shelby said next, sounding official, “I’m going to have to ask you to come with us.”
“Why? Am I under arrest for something?”
“Just a few questions, but with the assault on this gentleman we just taped I’ve got enough to cuff you. Don’t make me do that in front of your kids.”
“Emma, head home and call Muriel,” Cain said calmly. Juan had given Shelby and her ilk the opening they’d been wanting. Letting her temper loose was satisfying, but the consequences had just arrived and were the reason she told Hayden over and over why such behavior was never wise, no matter how good it felt. “Don’t worry. I’ll be back home soon.”
“Mom,” Hayden said, moving close to her.
“Take care of your mother and your sister. That’s your job until I get back,” Cain said, putting her hand on his shoulder. “I’ll be home soon.”
“How can you be so sure?” Shelby asked as she held open the back door of the black sedan she’d arrived in.
“Because Mr. Luis won’t press charges, and you’re just fishing.”
“Wow.” Shelby slammed the door and got in the front. “Did you consult one of the fortune-tellers before I got here?”
“No, you’re as easy to read as a Dick and Jane primer.”
Shelby turned around, not appearing pleased. “Go ahead and enlighten us.”
“Juan is the nephew of one of the largest drug runners in Mexico, but has the mentality of a gang banger. It’ll be a long time before he achieves the polish Rodolfo has, if ever. He’s not pressing charges for tripping in the street and accepting my assistance because that would make him lose face more than he has already,” Cain said with a shrug, as if it should’ve been obvious. “Hispanic men don’t take kindly to having a woman beat the shit out of them.”
“And us just fishing?” Claire Lansing asked.
“That’s the easiest one of all, Agent Lansing.” Cain chuckled like she always did at their shocked expressions when she knew them by name. “If something goes wrong in the city, you guys throw your nets in my direction. You’re just fishing because that’s all you ever do. Call it the law of average behavior.”
“Don’t you mean the law of averages?” Shelby asked.
“Unlike you, I always say what I mean. There’s nothing new in your pattern, so your behavior is average, predictable, non-imaginative, and whatever other word you care to apply.”
“It must be a burden to always be right,” Claire said.
“The bigger burden would be to always be wrong.” Cain sat back and laughed. “But that’s only a guess. After all the training and money the government’s invested in people like you, I’m sure you know what you’re doing.”
“It might be wise for you to listen to the part that says you have the right to remain silent,” Shelby said.
“You haven’t read me my rights, but you’re correct. Who am I to tell you how to do your job?”