Relentless Pursuit: A Novel (Secrets of Roux River Bayou) (13 page)

“My mother wasn’t a good role model either,” Zoe said. “But I was surprised at how naturally it all came to me. I never knew I could love anything as much as I love those two little scamps.”

“I can tell.” Sax smiled. “Good for you. This world needs all the loving moms it can get.”

“Well, trust me—it’s only by the grace of God that I turned out to be a loving mom.”

“I’ve never quite understood what that expression means. But whatever God’s grace is, I missed out.”

“You can only miss His grace by choice,” Zoe said.

Sax shifted his weight and held up the menu. Was she one of those religious fanatics, just waiting to point a finger at him and say that he had brought all the heartache on himself by the sin in his life? What hideous sin was he guilty of that rendered him deserving of his father’s repeated beatings? And what kind of God stood by and did nothing while innocent children were brutalized? The last thing he wanted to talk about was God’s
grace.

“I guess I’d better get out of your hair so you can make your selection,” Zoe said.

“I enjoyed meeting your children. You’re a lucky woman.”

Zoe smiled warmly. “I prefer to think of my good fortune as blessings from God. Savannah will be your waitress. She’ll be right with you.”

Sax pretended to read the menu for a full minute before he actually began to comprehend what it said. Why was it that anytime he attempted to discuss God with anyone, he got upset? God had never blessed him with anything—and he still didn’t know why.

Chapter 14

Sax bounded up the steps at Langley Manor, pushed open the elegant door with sheers on the windows, and walked onto the shiny wood floor in the entryway. Soft instrumental music was playing.

The parlor was empty, but he saw Vanessa in the dining room, laying out an array of snacks.

She looked up and smiled. “How was lunch? I was on the phone with Zoe earlier, and she mentioned you were there.”

“It was terrific.” Sax walked over to her. “I had grilled shrimp, dirty rice, and a vegetable medley. I don’t know what the chef did, but it’s the best I’ve ever eaten. The cornbread and gumbo were to die for. I’ve lived in New Orleans half my life and never tasted anything quite like it.”

Vanessa arched her eyebrows. “The food at Zoe B’s is addictive. Pierce is an awesome chef. He’s won awards for his gumbo.”

“I normally don’t bother with lunch,” Sax said. “I just went there on a whim. Glad I did. But I told Emily I’m having dinner there tonight.” He patted his middle. “I may have to order something light this time. I noticed they had a seafood salad on the menu.”

“Oh, that’s
my
favorite! You should try it.”

Sax laughed. “Are you in cahoots with the Broussards? I never go back to the same place three times in a row.”

“But if you like it, who cares?”

“This is true. I met Grace and Tucker while I was there. Really cute kids.”

“They’re adorable.” Vanessa set a beautifully arranged plate of chocolate chip cookies and lemon bars on the buffet. “Ethan and I and our son were friends with Zoe and Pierce before they had kids. And while we were renovating this place, we rented an apartment from the Broussards—upstairs from Zoe B’s. Their apartment was next door, and I got to know them really well. To tell you the truth, on some level, I think I’ll always miss living there. It was magical.”

“Even compared to all this elegance?”

Vanessa nodded. “It was the old-world setting, as much as anything. I mean, the apartment was quaint, and we loved it. But it was what we saw from the gallery that was so enchanting. I’d hate to guess how many hours we spent standing at the railing, waving to tourists and listening to Cajun music coming from Breaux’s.
Rue Madeline
is closed to traffic after seven p.m. and takes on this festival-like atmosphere. Flashing neon lights. Street entertainers. Horse-drawn carriages. But since you’re from New Orleans, you probably see it all the time. It might not seem like a big deal.”

“Sure it does,” Sax said. “There’s no place on earth like south Louisiana. I love it all. I’ll have to take a stroll along
rue Madeline
after dark.”

He heard the back door slam. A few seconds later, a young boy—the same child he had seen playing in the sprinkler that morning—came out of the kitchen, accompanied by a panting yellow lab.

“Mom, can I have a popsicle?”

Vanessa wiped the boy’s hair off his sweaty forehead. “Sure. I think you and Angel should stay inside for a while and cool off. Say hello to Mr. Henry. This is my son, Carter.”

The handsome boy, blessed with his mother’s deep blue eyes and hair that was neither blond nor red but somewhere in between, smiled politely and shook his hand. “Glad to meet you, Mr. Henry. This is Angel. She knows how to shake hands. Go ahead and try it.”

Sax bent down, surprised when the dog lifted her paw and let him shake it.

“Your dog’s as polite as you. How old are you, Carter?”

“I’ll be nine on July twenty-third. I’m having a swimming party after it gets dark, and we’re going to put colored lights on the fence around the pool. Mom’s making me a cake that looks like a soccer ball.”

Sax remembered that on his ninth birthday, he had hidden under his bed after his father went into one of his drunken rages and threw his cake on the floor and broke his mother’s arm. “That sounds fun. So, Vanessa … how do you make a cake in the shape of a ball?”

“I have a mold. You put two halves together. I’ll practice first. Getting the icing right will be the hardest part.”

“My mom makes the coolest cakes.” Carter looked at her adoringly.

“Speaking of
cool,
” Sax said, “I’m ready to enjoy some down time. I found a World War II novel I’d like to read.”

“Don’t let us keep you.” Vanessa glanced at her watch. “The invitation to take the tour at two is still open.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Sax said. “I’m sure I’ll be seeing Carter and Angel again.”

Carter nodded. “We’re always around here. If you want to throw the Frisbee, you should come outside sometime and throw it to Angel. She’s an amazing catcher.”

“I may do that.” Sax turned his gaze to Vanessa. “By the way, has anyone called and left a message for me?”

“No one,” she said. “I hope that’s good news.”

So do I
. “Just means I’ll be here at least another day. See y’all later.” Sax winked at Carter and started up the white staircase. Why was Mrs. Woodmore taking her sweet time getting back to him?

Emily stood in front of the mirror above the sink in the staff restroom off the kitchen at Zoe B’s. She brushed her hair with her hands.

Savannah came and stood in the open doorway. “Oh good. You’re right on time.”

“It’s in my genes.” Emily put on her name tag. “Who came up with the idea to wear black skirts and such pretty white blouses? I’ve worn uniforms that were really gross. These are nice.”

“Zoe found them,” Savannah said. “She wants us to think of ourselves as hostesses, not just waitresses. There are three of you tonight. If you have questions or anything comes up you can’t handle, pass it on to Nanette. The buck stops with her.”

“Thanks,” Emily said. “We can handle it.”

“How’s Chance doing?”

Emily shook her head. “Not good. I feel guilty leaving him right now.”

“Doesn’t he have family?”

“He does, but he really doesn’t want to be around a lot of people. He’s comfortable with me. Sometimes we just sit together and don’t even talk.”

“Still … it’s important for his family to be together right now—even more so, since his parents died tragically. They’ve all lost someone they love.”

“I told him that,” Emily said. “Maybe when someone besides his aunt Reba arrives he’ll be more receptive. She’s the controlling one on his mother’s side. She wanted to come stay with him, but he couldn’t handle being smothered. So I called and changed her mind.”

Savannah arched her eyebrows, her blue eyes wide. “You did?”

“Yes. She seemed insulted, even though I was very nice. But I didn’t let her manipulate me. I told her Chance needed to grieve by himself and that her being there wouldn’t help him. So she’s staying somewhere else.”

“Who’s helping Chance with the funeral arrangements?”

“I am. His parents had already done most of it. And the women at his church are bringing food after the funeral. Why are you looking at me like that?”

Savannah shrugged.

“What?”

“It’s really none of my business,” Savannah said. “But it seems like an inordinate role for you to take on when you’ve only known the guy a few weeks.”

Emily bit her lip. “I’m helping a friend through a nightmare. What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing, sweetie. Just be sure you’re not setting yourself up to be the one Chance relies on for everything. Let his family help. It’s too much for one person.”

Emily tried not to show her irritation. Suddenly Savannah was the expert? “It hasn’t been too much for me so far.”

“I’m sure it hasn’t.” Savannah’s tone reminded her of Vanessa’s. “I’m just suggesting you let Chance’s family take on some of the responsibility too. Dealing with this tragedy will be ongoing and draining. Girl, you’re only nineteen. Soon, you’ll be starting another intense college semester—and so will he. Give yourself space to clear your head.”

Emily pressed her lips together and counted to ten. Savannah meant well. Just accept her advice and go on. “Thanks. I’ll be fine.”

Jude took a gulp of Coke, crushed the can, and tossed it into the recycle bin in his office. He heard the bells of Saint Catherine Catholic Church chime eight times and looked outside, the thunderhead in the western sky now rimmed in gold, sun rays shooting out across the expanse. He stood for a moment and admired the beauty, distracted when he heard footsteps coming his way.

Aimee breezed through the door, carrying some papers in her hand. “Why are you still here?”

“Same reason you are. Seven people dead on my watch makes me crazy.”

“There’s nothing we can do for Molly Delaney’s family,” she said. “I just wanted to stay and read through the background check that came back on Adam Marcotte.” She handed him the papers. “The kid’s squeaky clean. There’s nothing here to make me think he’s capable of murder. The kid is Brad Pitt, Michael Phelps, and Beaver Cleaver rolled into one. He’s handsome, athletic, an honor student, the boy-next-door type, and everyone’s friend, including Mayor Theroux’s son.”

“That would make a perfect cover, though, don’t you think?” Jude scanned the report.

“Gil and I think it’s a dead end. We want to take a closer look at every person who works in Marcotte’s stockroom. And every person who had access to the kitchen.”

“You said there were no red flags.”

Aimee sighed. “There’s nothing obvious. At this point, I’m looking for even a
flicker
of a red flag. We have to keep trying to make sense of this.”

“Yeah, okay. Good.”

“I honestly don’t know where it’s going, Sheriff. We’ve got zilch.”

“We’ve got the hind shot of the man on the security tapes. It could be Adam Marcotte.”

“Or it could be any guy in Saint Catherine Parish who has dark hair and is medium height and build.”

“He walked like he was young,” Jude said, “under forty—probably way under.”

“Yes, he did. That narrows down the field. But where do we go from here?”

“Review the security tapes from Marcotte’s
again.
” Jude held up his palm. “Take a closer look at the outdoor tapes the day of the crime.”

Aimee scratched her ear the way she did when she was merely following orders. “With all due respect, we’ve been over them multiple times. What are we looking for?”

“Someone roaming around outside who seems just a little too interested in the chaos. Let’s see if our guy came back to the scene to gloat before Marcotte’s shut down.”

Sax perused the menu at Zoe B’s, aware of someone lighting the candle on his table. He glanced up, glad to see Emily Jessup’s smiling face.

“Well, hello there, Miss Emily. I told you I was coming in tonight.”

“I’ll be your waitress this evening,” she said. “What would you like to drink?”

“I’ll have iced tea.”

“Any appetizers?”

“I’ll try the oyster-filled patty shells.”

Emily smiled. “Good choice. They melt in your mouth.”

“Tell me about the seafood salad. Your sister says it’s to die for.”

“It’s awesome—Gulf shrimp, crawfish, scallops, and crab on a bed of spinach and lettuce, tossed with scallions, green olives, celery, red bell peppers, and artichokes. Topped with your choice of dressing, but I think our cheesy tomato house dressing is the best. It’s tangy, slightly sweet, and just a little hot.”

“Sounds great,” he said. “I’ll have the seafood salad with house dressing on the side.”

Emily took his menu. “Let me know if you need anything. I’ll be back with your iced tea and appetizer in just a minute.”

Sax looked over at the table by the window and chuckled to himself that those same three guys were sitting there, playing checkers.

“Sax?”

Sax looked up and saw a tall man with kind brown eyes and a prominent, almost regal nose, peering down at him. He looked to be about forty and was dressed in a double-breasted white coat and chef’s hat.

“I’m Pierce Broussard.” He offered Sax his hand. “Zoe’s husband. I’m the head chef.”

Sax shook his hand. Nice grip. “Good to meet you. You have a lot of fans. You should consider using Adele Woodmore and Vanessa Langley in your marketing ads. Thanks to their prodding and your culinary talent, this is my third time here since last night.”

“I’m glad you like the food.”

“I do. It’s superb,” Sax said. “And that’s saying something since I live in New Orleans and have tried a variety of Cajun restaurants. But I also like the ambiance. It’s relaxing. I’m glad your business hasn’t suffered due to the current situation.”

“We are too. Listen, I just wanted to say hello. Zoe said you met the rest of the family at lunch.”

“Beautiful kids.”

Pierce flashed a toothy grin. “They take after their mother, thank the Lord. I need to get back to the kitchen. Just wanted to meet you and say thanks for coming in.”

“Believe me, the pleasure is mine,” Sax said.

Pierce turned and disappeared into the kitchen. How often had a chef come out and said hello to him? Nice gesture. Pierce Broussard was a class act.