Jean-Bastienne Doucette stirred, momentarily disoriented before memory clicked back into place; he was back home, in Louisiana, in a motel room, he was Johnny B now, and his beautiful, hot little sister Justine was fast asleep next to him, warm and sweet and naked, her arm wrapped possessively around him and his arm asleep where her head rested on it. Even as he looked down at her, as if it was some kind of signal, her eyes fluttered open and she smiled sleepily up at him.
“Hello, Johneee Bear!” she murmured, “What you did to me, you bad, dirty bear! Now you’ve just gotta marry me, Mister Doucette, or I’ll tell my big brother what you did to me, and you don’t want him coming after you, he’s real ugly and scary, and did I say ugly?”
Johnny grinned back at her.
“Ugly? Really? Guess I gotta punish you some for that, baby-girl…!” he smiled.
With that, his fingers poked into her sides, catching her unawares as he tickled her. Justine shrieked with laughter, writhing against him as she tried to get away.
“Stop it Johnny, no fair, you jumped me…!” she gurgled, trying to catch her breath amid all the torture and laughing.
“Take it back, Minou, or it’s gonna get a whole heap worse!” he threatened, keeping tight hold of the giggling, squirming girl as he poked and prodded all her most ticklish places.
“Okay, okay, okay, I take it back, you’re not scary…!” she laughed.
“An’ ugly?” he prompted, grinning as she dimpled at him.
“Oh yeah, you’re still ugly,” she grinned, then kissed his chest, “but you’re my special kind of ugly, ‘s why I’m keeping you, Big Bear!”
Johnny kissed the tip of her nose and rolled onto his back, taking her with him so she was lying on his chest, with his hands cupping her tight little butt-cheeks.
“I dunno ’bout you, Minou, but I need a shower, food, an’ then we gotta hit the road; we already been here longer than we should, an’ we runnin’ out o’ time if’n we wanna get to Houma ahead o’ them New York dirtbags…”
Justine laid her head flat on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. She was silent so long Johnny thought she’d dropped off to sleep again, but when he patted her bottom she nodded.
“I know, Johnny-Bear, we’ve got to go; I was just enjoying the first real peaceful, quiet moment I’ve had in days. Let’s go, shower’s big enough for two, just keep your sneaky, wandering hands to yourself, I’ve got a boyfriend, and he’s the jealous type…”
*
Johnny cracked the door open and slipped out of the room to have a quick look around while Justine dried her hair, a real task with the mop of long hair she had. Natural caution kept him in the shadows, with their room in clear sight, while he scoped-out the parking lot, looking for he didn’t really know what, just anything that shouldn’t be there.
As he slipped along to the end of the shady veranda shared by the four rooms making up the block, a black, late-model Dodge Nitro in the parking lot caught his eye; it wasn’t the over-dark privacy glass that made his senses quiver, rather it was the rental tags and New York number-plate. Alarm bells began jangling, and he stepped back even further into the shadow cast by a large Honeysuckle growing against the side of the block of rooms, while keeping their room and the Nitro, the office, and the parking lot in full and unobstructed view.
Sure enough, after just a few minutes, three men in brand new fishing vests and Boonie-hats, obvious city boys, walked out of the office; they didn’t look the type to go sport-fishing down this way, and the glittering watches and rings, expensive Ray-Ban Aviator mirror shades, designer loafers, and ostentatious gold bracelet chains they wore were completely out of keeping with the ‘just good ole boys on a fishing trip’ image they were obviously hoping to project.
When one of them turned slightly, Johnny’s trained eye caught the bulge under his left armpit. As far as he was concerned, no-one on a legit sporting holiday should be toting around a concealed weapon in a shoulder-holster. The inference was clear; the Ribeiro gang had caught-up with them, and were a lot closer than he felt comfortable with; if he’d been alone, about now those three killers would be floating face down in Bayou Teche, a bonanza for any passing ‘gator, but that would have to wait; he had to keep Justine safe, that was his first and only priority, so now was the time do a fast fade; taking care of business would have to wait…
Johnny ghosted along the veranda, keeping his eye on the three men as he did so, ready to duck down behind the railing if any one of them looked his way. Justine was just finishing packing her bag when Johnny slipped in and eased the door almost closed, leaving a narrow gap so he could watch the parking lot. His exaggerated caution screamed out to her that trouble was close, but she didn’t panic; instead she swept the rest of their possession willy-nilly into the remaining travel bag and raised an enquiring eyebrow.
“They here baby-girl, three of ’em, standin’ out like a whore in church; looks like they gettin’ ready to move out; the truck’s out back, so be ready; I give the word, we head around the back an’ take to the back-country roads; looks like getting’ to Houma might be a touch difficult, so instead we headin’ over to noncle Lubin down along Bayou Petit Gaillou; they try comin’ down there they find out real quick why ever’one down that way give Lubin a wide berth! You’ll like him, he raise me, mostly, him an’ Tante Maigrette, an’ Tante Amice, an’ maw-maw too, o’ course; I’m named for his eldest son.”
He peered through the gap while Justine hurriedly picked up the room, watching while one of the men pulled a radio handset from the Nitro and spoke briefly into it, before tossing it back through the open window.
Johnny chewed his lip thoughtfully; that was not good, not good at all; the handset was a short-range unit, so there was at least one other team in the vicinity looking for them. Johnny briefly thanked whatever it was that had prompted him to stash the Blazer out of sight; at least they wouldn’t have to walk across that open, exposed parking lot; if they did it right, they could probably sneak away with no-one being any the wiser.
The room was paid for one night only. Caution again had prompted Johnny to pay cash, and Justine had scrunched down inside the Blazer so the clerk had probably never even seen her; for all he knew, Johnny was a lone businessman breaking a long trip with an overnight stay, so with any luck he’d have been completely unaware that the people those three had asked about were in his motel.
As he watched, the three men climbed into the Nitro and wheeled out of the parking lot, heading, as far as he could tell, in the direction of Highway 90; there was a Motel 6 and a Ramada Hotel out that way; maybe they were going to check them out. Wherever they were going, they were gone, and it was time he and Justy were out of there as well.
“You done, Minou?” He asked, and glanced back to see her patting and tugging her red wig in place.
Justine winked, grinned, and slid on a large, insectile pair of sunglasses, the wrap-around lenses effectively hiding most of her face.
“Ready when you are, Johnny-Bear; let’s go!”
Johnny cautiously cracked the door open a little further, saw no sign of anyone taking any interest in their chalet-block, and, with his body shielding Justine from any casual observers in the diner, they quickly edged along the veranda, hopped over the low rail, and scooted to the Blazer. Johnny waited for Justine to climb in, urged her to huddle as low in her seat as she could while he slung their bags in the back, then slipped the car into ‘Drive’ and slowly pulled away in among the trees and shrubbery, heading South-East to pick up US 90 East before anyone realized where they were going.
Johnny was banking on their tail doubling back and staking-out Houma, not realizing their quarry was already heading almost due east on 90, away from Houma entirely. His intention was to leave US 90 on the Bayou Blue South turnoff and take the back- country roads through to Bourg and Bayou Petite Gaillou. It was a confusing enough route for folks who knew where they were going and knew the lay of the land; if all went well, any tail they picked up would almost certainly lose themselves hopelessly, hopefully permanently, in the maze of swamps, bogs, and bayous criss-crossing his intended route; if they didn’t, well, there was still the family waiting for them…
As he drove, he dialled his grandmother’s number from memory, and when she answered, he launched into a stream of Creole French too fast for Justine to follow, grinned at her, and snapped the phone closed.
“OK, Justy, maw-maw know we detourin’ over by Bourg, an’ why; hopefully we meet up with Lubin or one o’ the boys afore long, meantime you-all rest, it’s gon’ be while yet.”
Justine sat curled in her seat, the muted growl of the engine lulling her as she tried to organize and rationalize her feelings; apprehension about how Johnny’s family were going to deal with who she was and what she and Johnny were doing warred with a generalized background fear of the people who were after them, along with a very specific fear for Johnny’s safety now they were mixed up in some twisted blood-feud.