Relentless Pursuit: A Novel (Secrets of Roux River Bayou) (11 page)

“How you going to know when it’s really over?” Hebert said.

Tex sighed. “You’re a real downer, you know that?”

A blonde waitress arrived at their table with a big round tray and set it on a stand. “Here you go, guys.”

Sax looked at the plates of food, his mouth watering. It looked delicious, and the presentation was beautiful.

Savannah’s voice startled him. “Here you go. Iced tea—tea and ice cubes are made from tap water, so no need for concern. Gumbo. Cornbread. And a Cobb salad with house dressing on the side. Our chef’s homemade hot sauce is there on the table. It’s dynamite—no pun intended.”

“Thanks. I’ll give it a try.” Sax smiled as the aroma of gumbo wafted under his nose.

As Savannah turned and walked away, Sax put the cloth napkin in his lap, his thoughts turning to his sister and the reason for his trip to Les Barbes. If Adele opted not to get involved, how much pressure was he willing to put on her? This was the end of the line. He couldn’t go back to New Orleans feeling this lost. Either his life was going to get better—or he would find a way to end it.

Chapter 11

Emily walked slowly up the deck steps at Langley Manor, the full moon illuminating the ghostlike haze that hovered above the cane fields.

She stopped at the back door and enjoyed the sight for a moment. Despite the oppressive heat and humidity, there was something unique and amazing about the Louisiana bayou—and the history of the proud Cajuns who made this region famous.

She saw a silhouette in one of the rockers and sucked in a breath.

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” said a male voice. “I’m a guest. I couldn’t sleep and decided to come out here for a while and wait to see what showed up to eat the Critter Crunch Vanessa left out.”

Emily walked over to the railing and let her eyes focus on the man’s face.

“I’m Sax Henry,” he said, “from the Big Easy. I play saxophone with a jazz band called the Smooth Blues.”

“I’m Emily—from Sophie Trace, Tennessee. I’ll be a sophomore at LSU.”

Sax smiled. “Geaux Tigers.”

Emily laughed without meaning to. “So are you here on vacation?”

“Business mixed with a lot of down time.”

“Vegging is good for the soul,” Emily said.

“So they say. So what about you—do you work here?”

Emily shook her head. “My sister and brother-in-law own it. I’m here visiting for the summer until classes start. I wait tables at Zoe B’s.”

“No kidding. I had dinner there earlier tonight. Fantastic food.”

“Pierce is a phenomenal chef,” Emily said. “He’s won awards. Did you meet Zoe, by any chance?”

“I did. Nice lady. Very cordial. I also amused myself by eavesdropping on three old fellas sitting at the table across the aisle. One of them—a guy named Hebert—seemed concerned that the facts of the cyanide scare are being withheld from the public.”

“That would be Hebert Lanoux,” Emily said. “He was Zoe’s first customer when she opened the place fifteen years ago. The guy is going to be a hundred this year. He’s like family to Zoe and Pierce. And pretty set in his ways.”

“You think his concern is founded?”

Emily shrugged. “I doubt it. My mom’s a police chief, and she never withheld any information the public
needed
to know. But sometimes it’s better for us not to know everything. I think that’s law enforcement’s call.”

“Aren’t you scared?”

Emily was sobered by his question. “I suppose I should be. I’ve hardly had time to think about myself. My friend’s parents were both cyanide victims. I’ve been trying to hold him together.”

“I’m sorry, Emily. That must be difficult.”

“It is. I’m just glad I can be there for him. It was nice meeting you, Mr. Henry.”

“Call me Sax. Or I’m going to feel really, really old.”

Emily smiled. “I’ll try. Easier said than done when you’ve been raised in the South. I need to go inside. I told my sister I’d be home at eleven.”

“Good night,” Sax said. “Maybe I’ll run into you at breakfast. I may be here a few days.”

“Okay, good night.” She put her key in the lock and opened the back door, neither surprised nor pleased to see Vanessa sitting at the kitchen table.

“You can’t be worried,” Emily said. “It’s just now eleven. I’m right on time.”

Vanessa took a sip of what appeared to be iced tea. “I wanted to talk to you. Why don’t you grab a cookie and sit.”

Emily opened the cookie jar and took out two chocolate chip cookies, poured herself a glass of milk, and sat at the table. “What’s up?”

Vanessa seemed lost in thought. Finally she lifted her gaze and looked into Emily’s eyes. “I know you care for Chance and want to help him. But you promised to take Carter miniature golfing. He was so disappointed.”

Emily blew her bangs off her forehead. “I can’t believe I forgot. Why didn’t you call and remind me?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I should have. I guess I wanted you to do it because you really wanted to spend time with him and not because you made a promise you were stuck with.”

“I adore Carter,” Emily said, feeling sick all over. “I never do things with him because I feel obligated. I just got caught up in helping Chance with the obits, picking out clothes to take to the mortician, and listening to him finally open up. Don’t worry, I’ll make it up to Carter.”

Vanessa nodded. “I know you will. There’s something else …” Her eyebrows came together and stayed. “Listen, Shortcake. I’m your big sister, and I love you. So I’m just going to tell you straight out what’s on my mind.”

Shortcake?
Emily thought
. Here comes the lecture
.

“You can’t fall in love right now,” Vanessa said. “You’ve got three more years at LSU, then MCATs, medical school, internship, and residency. Romance is a distraction you can’t afford.”

“I’m not falling in love. Can’t I comfort a friend who’s been through a tragedy without you making a federal case out of it?” Emily took a bite of cookie, more to look nonchalant as she endured the lecture than to actually taste it.

“Emily …” Vanessa sighed. “Have you even stopped to consider that you and Chance are unequally yoked? From what you told me, he has no religious beliefs at all. You’ve walked with God since you were a little girl. Why knowingly encourage a relationship that will surely lead to conflict—and might even cause you to compromise your values?”

“That will
never
happen.”

Vanessa shook her head and stared at her hands. “That’s what I said. Trust me, Emily, it’s much easier to get pulled into darkness than to stand firm in the light. It can happen slowly, even if you have the best of intentions.”

Emily rolled her eyes. “I’m not you, and you aren’t my mother.”

Vanessa reached across the table and took Emily’s wrist before she could take another bite of cookie. “But I’ve loved you since the day you were born, even if I was only ten. I’ve nurtured you. Calmed your fears. Listened to you. Even taken
your
advice a time or two. I can’t let your relationship with Chance go any further without expressing caution. Whether you’ll admit it or not, you know I’m right. If Mom and Dad were here, they’d say the same thing.”

“I’m nineteen,” Emily said. “I’m free to make my own choices, no matter where Mom and Dad are.”

Vanessa nodded. “You are. But as long as you’re here for the summer, under my and Ethan’s roof, it’s my responsibility to look out for you.”

Emily clamped her eyes shut and counted to ten. “I’m not going to sleep with him,
okay
?”

“I never said you were.”

“Isn’t that what you’re implying?”

“Emily”—Vanessa tightened her grip and looked intently into Emily’s eyes—“I’m not implying anything. I’m just concerned that you’re so intent on comforting Chance that your compassion could turn to passion before you realize what’s happening. That’s one of the reasons it’s better if women counsel women and men counsel men.”

“You sound like Ethan. Stop being a shrink.”

“What I’m
being
is a responsible big sister. I made mistakes that I hope you never will.”

“I won’t.”

Vanessa let go of her wrist. “I don’t doubt your good intentions. But you’re spending a great deal of time with Chance. At least consider what I’m saying and guard your heart. Make sure your choices in this relationship line up with Scripture.”

“You’re not telling me anything I don’t know,” Emily said.

“What you may
not
know is that the time to make the moral choice isn’t in the heat of passion, but before it ever gets that far.” Vanessa held up her palm. “I know it sounds like I’m lecturing you because of my mistakes with Ty.”

“Do you think?” Emily sighed.

“Maybe I am,” Vanessa said. “But I lived those consequences, and I can tell you it wasn’t worth it.”

“You have Carter.
And
Ethan.”

Vanessa nodded. “Blessings I don’t deserve. But I suffered plenty because I chose to be lured into bed by someone who had no regard for my God or my faith.”

“Good grief, Vanessa. I’ve known Chance for three weeks. I’m not being lured anywhere, so don’t project your mistakes onto me! Why don’t you just admit you don’t like him?”

“I didn’t say that. I hardly know him. What I
do
know is that you and Chance have vastly different values. Just don’t make the same mistakes I did.” Vanessa’s deep blue eyes seemed to look into Emily’s soul. “I love you—almost like you were my own. I’ll always be here for you, no matter what you choose. But as someone who knows the pain of having abandoned her values to gain a man’s approval and affection, all I can say is
don’t.
It will put a wedge between you and God—and when the conviction finally hits, the pain and regret is pretty overwhelming.”

Emily popped a piece of cookie into her mouth. “I get it, Vanessa. I appreciate that you want to protect me. But you’re worrying for nothing. I don’t plan on sleeping with anyone until I get married. And just so you know, Chance is so depressed, it’s unlikely our relationship will amount to anything more than my being a good friend.”

Vanessa got up, walked over to Emily, and kissed her forehead. “I just needed to get that out. I’m going to bed now. I really do love you.”

“I love you, too. But you don’t need to worry about me. I can take care of myself.” Emily crunched the second cookie and accidentally bit her tongue. Was it going to be like this all summer?

Sax overheard the argument between Vanessa and Emily. He envied the sibling closeness. No matter how indignant Emily was, on some level she had to be grateful for a sister who loved her that much, who wanted to protect her.

Guilt tightened his neck muscles, and he felt another headache coming on. No matter how hard he tried to reason that he was only seventeen when he left home, the ugly truth that he left his kid sister vulnerable to the abuse of their father gnawed through any defenses he put up. What justification could there be? He was a coward. He chose his own safety and comfort over Shelby’s. He had to find her and tell her how sorry he was. If Adele chose not to get involved, he would just have to convince her. He had two weeks.

He looked up at the moon, which seemed to have scattered the stars in the summer sky and made him think of the two bronze urns in his closet at home. His parents’ ashes needed to be scattered. Why couldn’t he bring himself to do it? He told himself it was because Shelby had a right to help him decide where. But the truth was that he couldn’t quite let go of his parents and didn’t know why.

Sax closed his eyes and breathed in slowly and let it out. Was he supposed to feel something for these people who made his childhood a living hell—his father a mean drunk and his mother a spineless wimp? Did Shelby feel the same way about Sax because he had left her behind?

A raccoon climbed the deck steps and stopped, studying him.

“Don’t look at me,” he said. “I don’t even like Critter Crunch.”

A few seconds later, the raccoon scurried down the steps, where Sax spotted three little ones eating the food Vanessa had placed there. How cute!

He sat for a moment, relishing the quiet and the serenity found only in nature. The feeling would be fleeting. It always was. The voice of guilt would once again dispel any semblance of peace. Shelby was his last hope. If she wouldn’t forgive him, there was no chance he could forgive himself.

Chapter 12

Sax floated somewhere between sleep and wakefulness, vaguely aware of a beeping noise that kept getting louder and louder. He reached over and groped the nightstand and pushed the off button on the clock radio.

He lay quietly for a moment, then opened his eyes. Where was he? He sat up in bed, a little disoriented, and then it all came back to him. Maybe this was the day that Adele Woodmore would decide to help him get in touch with Shelby. Or not.

He threw back the sheets, then sat on the side of the bed, his legs dangling. He glanced out the window at a young boy and yellow lab running through the sprinkler and was transported back to a summer day when he was ten and was chasing his sister with a garden hose.…

Shelby darted all over the backyard, squealing at a pitch he was sure only six-year-old girls could reach.

He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her to a stop, his hand held tightly over her mouth. “Shhh! Daddy will hear you.”

Shelby’s innocent eyes were big and round, her sheer delight turned to dread. She didn’t move. Or make a sound.

He waited half a minute, listening intently, then put his index finger to his lips and let her go. “You’re lucky Daddy didn’t hear you. You know how he is.”

Shelby cupped her hands around her mouth and whispered in his ear, “Chase me again, Michael. I promise not to squeal.”

A gruff voice bellowed through the screen door and filled the backyard, the words thick and slurred. “What’s goin’ on out there? I told you two if I heard a peep outta ya, I’d tan yer hides!”

The screen door flew open, and Frank Sieger, unshaven and wearing nothing but his boxer shorts, filled the doorway. He held a pint of whiskey in one hand, the other clenched in a tight fist.

“Both o’ ya—in here—now!” Daddy’s tone was loud and threatening.

Shelby clung tightly to Michael’s arm. He could feel her trembling.

“Are ya deaf? I told ya to git in here. I ain’t sayin’ it again.”

Michael felt Shelby’s fingers dig into his arm and couldn’t make his feet move until Daddy charged them, rattling off a whole string of obscenities.

Michael gave Shelby a push. “Run, Shelby. I’ll meet you on the rock. Go!”

Shelby burst into tears and raced toward the back fence, Michael on her heels. She slipped through the gate just as their father overtook Michael, grabbing him around the throat and pulling him to a stop.

“Didn’t I warn ya not to cross me, boy?” Daddy let out a low growl. “You brought this on yerself, ya worthless piece o’ garbage! It’s all yer fault.”

Michael had trouble breathing as his father tightened his grip. He writhed in vain to free himself as Daddy delivered several hard blows to his face, calling Michael vile names, and then pushed him to the ground, kicking him over and over.

As Michael lay curled up on his side, begging his father to stop, he caught a glimpse of Mama standing at the kitchen window, closing the blinds.…

The sound of footsteps in the hallway brought Sax back to the present, his heart pounding wildly, his skin clammy, his temples throbbing.

What a beating that was! And could the emergency room visit have been any more of a joke? Mama told the ER doctors that he had gotten beat up on his way home from baseball practice and didn’t recognize the assailants, who were about his age. The police made a report and wrote down the phony description Michael gave them of the ringleader, and that was that. What else was a ten-year-old supposed to do? Daddy threatened to kill Mama if he ever told what really happened. Michael believed him. He never told anyone. Not then. Not even after Daddy broke his arm.

Sax wiped the perspiration off his upper lip, staring at the clock on the nightstand. He would never forget the rush of empowerment that coursed through him at the stroke of midnight on his seventeenth birthday, when he stood over his father as the man lay passed out on the floor. Sax spat on his dad—then stepped over him and walked away, suitcase and guitar in hand, and went on a road trip with his rock band.

He went back to Devon Springs after his rock band had completed their first road tour. He called his mother and met her privately at Miller’s Deli. It was one of the most disappointing conversations of his life.…

“Sorry it took me so long to git here,” Mama said. “I walked over. I was hopin’ the whole time you didn’t just up and take off agin.”

“I came back here for a reason, Mama. I want to get you and Shelby out of the house and into a shelter.”

“I ain’t goin’ to no shelter.”

“You’ll be safe there.”

“We been over this already, Michael. It ain’t just about bein’ safe. Frank needs me.”

“All he needs is a fifth of Jack Daniels.”

Mama glared at him. “A woman don’t just walk away ’cause things ain’t goin’ the way she hoped. Frank’s the way he is for reasons we ain’t never gonna understand. I need to help him—not run off like a scared rabbit and leave him to his whiskey.”

Michael threw his hands in the air. “You’re not going to change him. Stay if you want. But it’s wrong to leave Shelby there.”

Mama pursed her lips and didn’t say anything.

“Shelby’s a kid. She has no choice. You need to get her out of the house. You’re responsible to protect her.”

“Ain’t nobody can protect her!” Mama lowered her voice. “She’ll git out when she’s of age. Ain’t nothin’ Frank can do ’bout it then—same as when you left.”

Michael shook his head. “You want Shelby there to take the brunt of the abuse. You’re using her to protect yourself!”

Mama stood. “I ain’t puttin’ up with yer lip just because yer all growed up. You don’t know half o’ what you think you do.” Mama’s eyes glistened. “It ain’t easy for me, knowin’ he’s hurtin’ her. But life ain’t always ’bout doin’ what’s easy. If Shelby leaves right now, Frank’ll kill me. You know he will.”

“Mama, please. Why don’t you just get out. Take Shelby to a shelter where Dad can’t find you.”

“I told you, he needs me. I ain’t goin’ to no shelter. You stay away from Shelby. Don’t be puttin’ no ideas in her head ’bout leavin’ right now. She’ll git through it just like I did when I was her age.…”

Sax called his mother a couple times in the year that followed and implored her to leave. Finally, he gave up trying to change her mind. She seemed comfortable with denial. How could she not see the twisted dynamic that had caused her to stay with a drunk who beat the tar out of her and her children?

Sax never once regretted leaving—only that he had left Shelby behind. But that was the choice that robbed him of joy and peace and had contributed to the failure of three marriages.

It was ironic—perhaps poetic justice—that Shelby was the one who had found peace, and he was the one stashing their parents’ ashes in his closet, unable to let go of the past.

Emily waited patiently as Vanessa arranged the sausage, onion, mushroom, Swiss cheese, and spinach crepes on her plate, along with the nice portion of fresh fruit.

“Yum,” Emily said. “This looks
so
delicious.”

Vanessa handed her the plate. “There you go, Shortcake. Do you still want beignets?”

Emily smiled wryly. “You’re kidding, right?”

“They’ll be ready in just a second. But you need to let them cool.”

“Good morning, ladies.” A man breezed into the dining room, dressed in khaki pants and a light blue golf shirt.

Emily recognized his voice from the night before. Sax Henry looked younger than he sounded and decidedly more handsome in the daylight. His moussed hair was cool, and she liked the five o’clock shadow—seemed befitting a musician. He reminded her of someone, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

“Hey, Sax,” Emily said.

Vanessa glanced up from the deep fryer. “You two have met?”

Emily nodded. “We ran into each other on the deck when I got home last night.”

“Emily and I already have two things in common,” Sax said. “We’re both LSU Tiger fans, and we both like Zoe B’s. That’s not bad for two strangers passing in the night. I didn’t have
that
much in common with my ex-wives.”

Vanessa chuckled. “Chatterbox over there can tell her life story without taking a breath.”

“She’s exaggerating,” Emily said, the corners of her mouth twitching.

“So what’re you having?” Sax winked and studied her plate.

Emily gave him a rundown of what was in the crepes. “I’m having beignets, too. I can’t eat them every day and fit into my jeans, but I
love
them.”

“Me, too.” Sax’s gaze met Vanessa’s. “Would you mind fixing me what Emily’s having? It really does sound great. Maybe a little heavy on the sausage?”

“Beignets, too?”

“Yes, please, ma’am.” Sax poured himself a glass of orange juice and sat at the table. “So, Emily … are you working at Zoe B’s
tonight
?”

“As a matter of fact, I am. I’m scheduled from three until eleven.”

“I’m planning to have dinner there,” Sax said. “Maybe you’ll be waiting my table. I hope that won’t make you nervous.”

Emily shook her head. “Heavens, no. I’ve waited tables since I was sixteen—first for spending money and now for college money. I have a scholarship, but it only pays the tuition. It doesn’t cover housing, books, and other expenses. My parents help a lot.”

“So you two gals are sisters?” Sax looked from one to the other. “You’re both beautiful, but I don’t see the family resemblance.”

Vanessa looked up from the beignet machine and smiled. “We favor opposite sides of the family. The family resemblance is there when we’re all together.”

Emily sat admiring her dark-haired, azure-eyed sister with a figure to die for, who turned heads wherever she went. Emily’s hair was the color of sand, her blue eyes boring—not striking like Vanessa’s. No way did Sax think they were both beautiful. But it was nice hearing it anyway.

Emily heard someone whistling and lifted her gaze as Ethan walked into the kitchen and came up behind Vanessa, his arms around her, his cheek next to hers. “I’m leaving for the clinic. Once the day manager gets here, why don’t you take it easy and read or something? You’ve been pushing yourself hard lately.”

“I enjoy pushing myself,” Vanessa said. “There’s always something new I want to try.” She sprinkled powdered sugar on the beignets. “Besides, I promised that nice couple from Georgia I’d take them on a tour later.”

Ethan kissed her cheek. “Just don’t overdo it. See y’all tonight. Sax, you’ll still be here?”

“Sure will. I’ve got business pending.”

“Well, sometime before you leave, you really should take the tour through the slave tunnels. It’s a sobering experience to walk where they walked when this was part of the Underground Railroad.” Ethan popped a mushroom into his mouth. “Gotta run. Have a great day, everyone.”

Emily watched Ethan walk out the back door and thought how blessed Vanessa was to find such a thoughtful, caring husband. Her thoughts turned to Chance, and she felt that icky pang of sorrow she knew was part of the package for now.

“The more I think about it,” Vanessa said, “I really
would
enjoy an hour in the pool with Carter. He says he wants to show me how he’s learned to use the snorkeling getup. What I think he
really
wants is to blast me with a water rifle that a certain somebody brought him from Tennessee.”

Emily laughed. “Don’t you remember that summer when Ryan brought one home from college and chased us all over the place? Mom said from the time he was little, he never could resist a squirt gun of any kind. It’s a guy thing—right, Sax? You had a water rifle when you were a kid, didn’t you?”

“I just used the garden hose.” He pasted on a smile. “But I think it might be a guy thing.”

“Do you have brothers and sisters?” Emily said.

“A younger sister. And yes, I chased her all over the backyard, squirting her unmercifully. She loved it.”

“One time,” Emily said, “our parents came outside when we were having a water fight, and they got right in the middle of it, laughing their heads off. It was so much fun. Remember that, Vanessa?”

“I sure do. I wondered what the people of Sophie Trace would think of their police chief giggling like a schoolgirl and playing in the sprinkler.”

“Your mom sounds fun to be around,” Sax said.

Emily nodded. “Definitely. I’ll bet yours was too.”

“Not so much.” Sax’s face grew taut. “My mom pretty much ignored us growing up. She was too busy making excuses for my alcoholic father who laid into us if we as much as sneezed the wrong way.”

Emily felt the embarrassment scald her face. How did she walk right into that one? “I’m sorry. That must’ve been painful.” She took a bite of crepe and washed it down with a gulp of orange juice.

“Don’t be sorry,” Sax said. “It’s just one of those things you learn to accept. Be grateful your folks weren’t like mine.”

“All right”—Vanessa’s voice went up an octave, and she shot Emily an empathetic look—“let me prepare the crepes for this hungry man before we girls talk him to death.”