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oil as they entered the cramped restaurant. Cindy, the rescue he’d brought here six months earlier, hadn’t loved the place much, either. Neither had Jack when he’d bought it a few years before, but it was small and relatively clean, with showers for both sexes, racks of cheap T-shirts and videos, and heaps of Mexican blankets. Three of his rescues had successfully started new lives here. Cindy hadn’t waitressed since college, but she’d taken the job without blinking an eye. Gratitude was the worst part of every rescue gig. Embarrassing, unwarranted, unneeded.
    And unavoidable. Bracing himself, he led the way to a secluded corner booth with a view of the front door. Juma and Rose had hardly slid onto the bench when from the kitchen door Cindy cried, “Miracle Man!” and tossed herself in his direction. He caught her thin form—fuller and cur-vier than a few months ago—in his good arm and gave hera smacking kiss on the cheek. “You’ve filled out. Looking good.”
    “Feeling good, too!”
    Before she could start gushing, he gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “We’re in a hurry.” He introduced Juma and Rose.
    Juma waggled her fingers, and Rose said cheerfully, “Happy to meet a friend of Jack’s.” She sounded so sincere he wanted to…believe her. Damn.
    “I don’t have any money for breakfast,” Juma said.
    “I’ll take care of it,” Rose said just as Jack repeated, “Breakfast’s on me.”
    “See?” Rose spread her hands. “You can eat twice if you want.”
    Cindy laughed and gave them menus, and Juma grinned. “Thanks, I will! I’m starved.”
    “Better order both meals now.” Jack’s smile was so phony his cheeks hurt. No way was Rose paying a cent. He continued smoothly, “The guys with the guns are still out there somewhere. Juma, do you have anyone to stay with in Bayou Gavotte?”
    “I have friends at the university, but Stevie knows them, so he’ll find me again. I could have sworn no one knew where I was in Baton Rouge, but he found me right away.”
    “I’ll find someplace safe for you.” Yet another reason to call Gil.
    When the women had ordered breakfast and headed together for the restroom, Jack waylaid Cindy. “I need a phone to make a private call. In the office won’t do.”
    “Sure.” Cindy fished in the pockets of her apron for her cell. “They’re rescues?”
    “The kid will be, if she doesn’t sabotage herself first.”
    “So who’s Rose? A girlfriend?”
    “Just an acquaintance,” Jack said repressively.
    “Maybe you should get better acquainted. She looks hot.” His expression must have betrayed him, for she laughed. “And nice, too. Go for it.”
    “Considering what you’ve been through, I’m surprised you’re recommending romance to me or anyone else.” He took the phone. “If Rose tries to pay, tell her it’s been taken care of.”
    “Oho! You do like her. Better snatch her up before someone else does. Did you see how many guys were eyeing her?”
    Shit.
    “She’s got that certain something,” Cindy added.
    It’s called fangs.
    “Take her away quick,” Cindy laughed, “or the truckers won’t look at me anymore.”
    “I’m not in the market for romance, and neither should you be.” And I won’t be able to help you if there’s a next time. He didn’t need to say it out loud; she already knew.
    “Just because I had bad luck, it doesn’t mean love isn’t out there waiting for whoever needs it.” Cindy rolled her eyes. “And no, I’m not gonna get serious about any of them. I’m enjoying being me way too much to risk messing up with another no-good man.”
    Out through the back door, Jack leaned against the cool concrete wall and punched in Gil’s number. “I’ve been trying you all morning,” his partner griped to the click of computer keys in the background. “Your mother left a message first thing. Two of the African charities called, and so did a literacy group. Where have you been?”
    “Running an