Relentless Pursuit: A Novel (Secrets of Roux River Bayou) (17 page)

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Authors: Kathy Herman

Tags: #Mystery, #Louisiana

BOOK: Relentless Pursuit: A Novel (Secrets of Roux River Bayou)
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Sax listened as Zoe summed up her longtime relationship with Hebert, Father Sam, and Tex.

“So Hebert was your very first customer?”

Zoe looked over at the three men and smiled. “He was the first to shake my hand and walk into Zoe B’s on opening day. Father Sam and Tex began coming shortly after that. The three struck up a conversation, moved to the same table, and have been the best of friends ever since. They’re here for breakfast, lunch, and dinner—and much of the day to play checkers or just talk about how to change the world. I’ve adopted them as family.”

“I heard Hebert say he’s going to be a hundred on his next birthday. We should all be that sharp at eighty—let alone a hundred.”

“Isn’t that the truth?” Zoe met his gaze. “I’ll go tell Pierce you’re eager to try his new dish. I hope whatever business you have in Les Barbes gets resolved the way you want. But as long as you’re in town, we hope you’ll keep comin’ in.”

“I’m sure I will.” Sax cocked his head. “Is that a Texas accent I just heard in your voice?”

The corners of Zoe’s mouth twitched. “I was born in Texas. But I can’t believe there’s even a hint of the accent left. I’ve lived in Looziana all of my adult life.”

“I guess it takes one to know one. Where in Texas were you born?”

Zoe’s face flushed. “Some obscure town no one’s ever heard of and that’s barely on the map.”

“Yeah, me, too. The bayou’s in my blood, and I consider Looziana my home. Well, tell Pierce I’m game to try whatever he wants to run by me. He’s an awesome chef.”

“I’ll go tell him.” Zoe took his menu.

Sax watched as she walked back into the kitchen and felt that twinge of longing to find his sister. At least Adele Woodmore was willing to get involved. He was
halfway
there.

 

Chapter 18

 

Zoe went into the kitchen at the eatery and over to the oblong worktable, where Pierce was busy filling orders.

“It’s a good thing Savannah told us that Sax was here for lunch,” Zoe said. “He’s totally game to try your new blackened chicken in wine and cream sauce.”

“I’m jazzed. I’ve only tried it out on a half-dozen people. If he likes it, I’m ready to serve it for a weekend special. Do you think he’d tell me if he didn’t like it—or thought it was just so-so?”

“Probably not in those words,” Zoe said. “But I’m pretty good at reading people. I think I could tell if he was just being polite. But you’ve said yourself it’s subjective.”

“Yes, but Sax loves Cajun food and has eaten at fine restaurants in the Big Easy. I value his opinion.”

“You get nervous as a kitten when you introduce a new dish,” Zoe said.

Pierce smiled sheepishly. “It’s a little like putting my baby out there. I want everyone to think it’s perfect.”

“Well, I think it’s perfect, and not just because you’re my husband.” Zoe snitched a green olive and popped it into her mouth. “Sax said something that really surprised me. He asked if it was a Texas accent he detected in my voice. Do I still have that?”

Pierce shrugged. “I don’t hear it.”

“Sax did. Apparently he’s from Texas. He wanted to know where in Texas I was born. I froze for a minute. I was ashamed to tell him.”

“Why? What’s the big deal?”

“I’m not sure. I just didn’t want to admit where I’m from. Isn’t that silly after all this time?”

“What
did
you tell him?”

“I said something about it being an obscure town no one’s ever heard of and was barely on the map. Which is true. He said his was too. That he has the bayou in his blood and considers himself to be a Looziana boy.”

“I still don’t know why you didn’t just tell him.”

“I don’t know either. That’s what bothers me. I thought I was done with feeling ashamed. Do you think I need to go back to the clinic and do more counseling?”

“I don’t know, babe. If you have doubts, maybe you should ask Ethan’s advice. But from my perspective, you seem great.”

“I feel great.” Zoe smiled. “I’m so proud to be your wife and the mother of our two beautiful children. And partners with you in a thriving business we both enjoy. We are so blessed.”

“Indeed we are.” Pierce took a big pinch of scallions and dropped it into the sauce he was stirring. “I know you balk every time I bring this up, but I wish you’d at least consider going back to Texas and seeing your mother.”

“No.”

“I’d be willing to go with you.”

“No. Why this sudden push to contact her?”

Pierce stopped working and looked up at her. “Zoe, Hebert’s turning one hundred. One of these days, he’s going to pass away. His absence would dramatically change the dynamic around here on a number of levels. And Adele is getting up there. I’m concerned that if you don’t start preparing for the voids that are inevitable, you’re going to be depressed.”

“You already told me all this. You said you weren’t going to push me.”

“I’m not pushing you—just nudging a little. I love you and know you better than anyone else. You’re going to feel lost when Hebert’s gone and the trio is no longer a trio. And when Adele can no longer be the mother you wish you had.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes. I do.”

“I have you and the kids—and I have your family. And our other friends.”

“Just pray about it,” Pierce said. “See if you get any insights.”

Zoe popped another olive into her mouth and walked toward the door. “I’ll let Sax know his lunch will be coming soon.”

 

At exactly three fifteen, Emily knocked on the kitchen door at Chance’s house and was met with the stony gaze of a sixtysomething woman with salt-and-pepper hair. The woman wore a black shift, sensible shoes—and an ugly scowl.

“You must be Chance’s aunt Reba.” Emily tried to smile but wasn’t sure whether her face had cooperated. “I’m Emily Jessup. We spoke on the phone.”

“Yes, we did,” Reba Littleton said. “You’ve wasted your time coming here. You’re sadly mistaken if you think anything you can do will help matters. Chance is on a toot and isn’t about to let anyone help him.”

“I just came to keep him company,” Emily said. “And then drive him to the funeral home.”

“There’s plenty of
family
in town that can do that.”

Emily bit her lip. “Yes, ma’am. But he asked me to do it. I’m not trying to take the place of family, but Chance and I were together when the deputy called and told him to come to the hospital—and when the doctor told him the terrible news that both his parents had died. We’ve shared a lot in the past couple days. He knows I can relate to what he’s going through. I lost my grandparents in a head-on collision and know what it’s like to have someone you cherish taken from you in an instant.”

“Hmm … then why don’t you go
relate
some sense into him?”

“What do you mean?”

Reba exhaled, her hands on her hips. “He’s in his room and won’t come out.”

“He asked for solitude,” Emily said. “He’s not feeling social right now.”

“How about
civil
? For heaven’s sake, Chance swore at me for doing his dirty laundry. I was only trying to help. And he got downright belligerent when I started cleaning out my sister’s closet.”

“Maybe he’s not ready for that to happen just yet.” Emily opened the door and stepped into the kitchen.

“He’d better learn to be grateful for whatever help he can get,” Reba said. “In a few days, all the relatives will need to return home, and Chance will be left with all of it. Do you really think he’s up to
that
?”

“Ma’am, his parents were just murdered. I don’t think Chance is up to anything yet. I don’t think the full weight of what happened has even hit him. It’s pretty sobering to say good-bye to your parents one morning and come back that afternoon—an orphan.”

“That’s precisely why he needs his aunts and uncles and cousins to rally around him.”

“He does—but quietly, and in moderation. He’s completely overwhelmed, particularly about losing his mother.”

Reba’s expression softened. “Yes, Lydia and Chance were close. Huet never appreciated Chance’s full potential until the boy got accepted into Harvard Medical School. Even then it was hard for Huet to show how proud he was. The man was such a perfectionist, he could find fault with God Himself. Lydia loved him. I tolerated him—and he made a modest effort to do the same.…” Reba’s voice cracked, and she waved her hand dismissively. “None of that matters now. I will miss them terribly.”

“Have you been to the funeral home yet?”

Reba nodded. “I stopped there first. The undertaker did a surprising job. They both look so natural I half expected them to open their eyes. I still can’t believe they’re gone. I was pleased to see Lydia dressed in her favorite blue dress.” Reba took a wadded-up tissue out of the pocket of her dress and wiped a tear off her cheek. “It seems like only yesterday I was maid of honor at their wedding. You wonder sometimes how the end will come for those you love. But never would I have imagined
this
.…”

Emily reached over and squeezed Reba’s hand. “Of course not. It’s tragic.”

Reba seemed receptive for a moment and then yanked her hand back. “I talked with Imogene Fluette at Saint Catherine’s. She’s coordinating the bringing of food tonight and tomorrow. Chance won’t need to burden himself with kitchen matters. It’s being handled.”

“Thank you.”

“But you have to make Chance eat,” Reba said. “He ate a Pop Tart for breakfast and refused all my efforts to fix him something substantial.”

“I imagine his stomach’s upset.”

Reba wrinkled her nose. “More like he doesn’t want me here.”

“In all fairness to Chance, he did ask to be left alone. He’s going to resist anyone he feels is pushing him right now.”

“He
needs
to be pushed. Lydia understood that about him.”

“As only a mother could,” Emily said. “Chance is a grown man. And for all practical purposes, he’s been on his own since he went away to college five years ago.”

“Maybe so, but he just lost his family.” Reba dabbed her eyes. “I’d like to think that Lydia is smiling down on me for reaching out to him.”

“It’s very kind of you to want to look out for your nephew. You strike me as the type of person who needs to show love by doing things for people.”

Reba seemed lost in a long pause and then said, “It’s about time you figured that out, Emelia.”

“It’s Emily, ma’am. And I can appreciate how much you long to help Chance. But perhaps the way to best help him is to trust his judgment and do what he asked.”

“Stay away?”

“Not entirely, no. I think he could very much use your help coordinating the food tonight and tomorrow and directing friends and family. But I think beyond that, you might do well to wait until he asks for help.”

“When someone dies,” Reba said, “there are a number of practical matters that need tending to right away. In this case, there will be twice as many.”

“I’m sure you know about these things,” Emily said. “But it’s hard to say how much of it Chance wants help with. He’s a self-reliant person. He’s been in contact with the family attorney, and they’re supposed to meet day after tomorrow.”

“His attorney will direct him each step of the way. But Chance will have to do the footwork. There will be accounts to close, policies to cancel. Names to be switched. He’s not in any shape to think that hard.” Reba sighed. “I can help him, if only he’ll let me. I had to do all this when my husband died. I would really like to save him some of the hassle.”

“It’s easy to see how sincere you are,” Emily said. “Perhaps the more space you give him, the freer he will feel to invite you closer—but when he’s ready.”

Reba seemed to study Emily’s face. “I really didn’t want to like you, young lady.”

“Should I take that to mean that you do?”

The corners of Reba’s mouth twitched. “Go talk to Chance. All I want him to do is come out of his room and not treat me like I have the plague. I promise not to bother him. But I need to be here to receive the food, which should be coming soon.”

Emily held out her hand, pleased when Reba took it. “I’m truly sorry you lost your sister. I have one and can’t imagine what it would feel like to lose her—and in such a horrible way. If there’s anything I can do to help you, I’d be happy to. I know this is so difficult.”

Reba’s eyes were suddenly dark pools. She squeezed Emily’s hand for several seconds, struggling to regain her composure. “Go. Talk to Chance. Make him understand I’m not the enemy, and that he’s all I have left of Lydia. That would help me more than anything else.”

 

Emily walked down the hallway and knocked on the last door. “Chance, it’s me.”

A few seconds later, the door opened, and Chance, unshaven and eyes bloodshot, filled the doorway.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he said. “It’s been a miserable day.”

Emily embraced him, then pushed her purse strap higher on her shoulder. “Well, I’m here now and don’t have to be back at work until three p.m. day after tomorrow. I want to be here to support you any way I can.”

“You can start by telling Aunt Reba to leave.”

“I had a lengthy conversation with her just now.”

“I’ll just bet you did.”

“Chance …” Emily held his gaze. “Maybe you’re overreacting to your aunt’s being here today. It’s not like she’s moving in or even staying overnight. She came by to check on you and to make arrangements for the food to be brought in for when the rest of your family arrives.”

“Is that what she told you?” He pulled her into the room and shut the door. “She’s been barking out orders since she got here.”

“Tell me if I’m wrong.” Emily set her purse on the desk. “She offered to make you something to eat, did your dirty laundry, and tried to weed out your mother’s closet so you wouldn’t have to deal with that pain.”

“Oh brother! She’s gotten to you.”

“Is your aunt Reba prone to tears?”

“Absolutely not. I’ve seen tree bark show more emotion than she does.”

“Well,” Emily said, “she let her guard down a minute ago with me and got really emotional over her sister’s death. And also implored me to convince you that she is not the enemy—and that you’re all she has left of Lydia.”

“Aunt Reba actually said that?”

Emily nodded. “I think the two of us had a breakthrough. She said she didn’t expect to like me. I certainly didn’t think I would like her.”

“Do you?”

“I sense a real tenderness in her, Chance. Maybe you two have never really understood one another.”

Chance shook his head and sighed. “I don’t believe this. In five minutes, she’s turned you into her puppet.”

“I’m nobody’s puppet,” Emily said emphatically. “But grief has the power to break even people who usually hide their feelings. I expected to see a pushy, obnoxious, overbearing woman. Instead, I saw a vulnerable human being who is genuinely grieving the loss of her sister and wants very much to show her love by watching after her sister’s son.”

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