* * *
Her knee ached, and she was hungry when Danny reached the Crawdad Hole that evening. She never wanted to see the inside of an airport, carry bags or stay in a hotel ever again. Or at least for a very long time.
After all the interviews and questions, they’d toasted Caleb’s retirement. He’d promised to visit at Christmas and had hugged her tightly before seeing them off.
Thanks to Hank Patterson, they flew back on a private plane, skipping security lines and X-ray machines.
When Jacques held the door open, the scent of fried shrimp wafted out, making Danny’s stomach rumble.
“You’re late,” Rene called out from behind the bar.
Danny laughed. “Am I on shift tonight?”
Rene snorted. “Think I’d put you to work looking like that?” He shook his head.
Danny tipped her head toward Jacques. “He looks worse.”
“Guess he’s not working either,” Rene said. “You’re late for dinner.”
They crossed to the group of tables Remy and Shelby had pushed together. Aurelie rose and hurried to Beau, wrapping her arms around him. He kissed her long and hard before they sat down. Anton grabbed a seat across from them.
Yaya leaped to her feet and hugged Danny. “Your apartment is ready for you. It’s clean, the locks have been changed and I put out fresh flowers.” She handed Danny the key. “I’m glad you’re back and safe.”
“Thanks, Yaya,” Danny said and hugged her tighter. “It’s good to be back.”
Shelby waved toward the table. “Sit. Rene’s been waiting to feed us until we were all here. I, for one, am starving.”
Danny laughed. “Me, too.”
Jacques held her chair for her and then sank into the seat beside her.
After Rene distributed beer all around, Remy raised his mug. “To another successful mission for the Bayou Brotherhood Protectors.”
They cheered and drank, passing platters of Cajun food around the table and eating until they could eat no more.
Mace LaFayette came in, wearing his black leather vest, “Bayou Reapers” embroidered across the back. He was a big man, and to strangers he’d appear intimidating. But he was loved and respected in the community, along with the members of his motorcycle club. They were known for helping others who needed it.
He made a beeline for their table.
“Mace!” Remy called out. “Sit. Join us.”
Mace turned a chair around and straddled it like his motorcycle. “Not going to stay. I heard you were back and needed to talk to my friend Anton here.”
Anton’s eyes narrowed. “I said no. I’m not interested.”
“No is not an option.” Mace crossed his muscled arms over his chest. “We have to have a Papa Noel, and you’re it.”
“I didn’t volunteer,” Anton said.
“You didn’t have to. I tagged you. It’s decided.” Mace grinned. “Congratulations. It’s a huge honor.”
Anton wrinkled his nose. “If that’s the case, then why don’t you do it?”
“Can’t,” Mace said. “You’re the one.”
Beau laughed. “Your name’s Noel. It fits.”
Anton shot a glance toward Remy. “Are there any assignments you can send me on? Somewhere far away?”