Relentless Pursuit: A Novel (Secrets of Roux River Bayou) (20 page)

Chapter 21

Sax sat on a wrought-iron bench near the duck pond at Cypress Park, watching a pair of roseate spoonbills and a half-dozen black-necked stilts sifting through the shallow bottom along the bank. A lone white ibis scoured the wet grass for insects and grasshoppers, and a tricolored heron stood motionless in the center of the pond as if his only purpose for existence was to draw admirers.

The morning sun had cleared the tops of the Spanish-moss–draped cypress trees that marked the eastern boundary of the park.

Under the arched bridge that spanned the pond, a wood duck caught a glimmer of sun, its color pattern resplendent with rich chestnut, splashes of black and white, and golden flanks. If there was a more beautiful duck, he had yet to see one.

On the high point of the bridge stood a boy about nine or ten and a much smaller girl with long brown hair, each blowing bubbles out over the pond. That could have been him—and Shelby—at that age. Had their lives really been as bad as he remembered? Or had the good memories been snuffed out by the pain?

The bells of Saint Catherine gonged nine times, and he glanced over at the parking lot just as a white Toyota Camry pulled in. He recognized the car as Isabel’s.

He waited until Mrs. Woodmore got out, and then rose to his feet and walked toward her across the wet green lawn.

The elderly woman’s white hair caught the morning rays and contrasted with the black dress she was wearing. She looked rather elegant, even with the cane she used to steady herself—or perhaps because of it.

“Hello, Sax.” She extended her hand, and he shook it. “I appreciate your meeting me here. I didn’t want to talk about this over the phone. I have a funeral to attend this morning, and there will be people coming and going at my home all day. I didn’t want to take a chance on anyone seeing us together and asking questions. I’d like this matter to remain private.”

“Not a problem, Mrs. Woodmore. I saved us that bench over there in the shade. There’s a nice breeze.”

He walked with Adele to the wrought-iron bench, waited until she was seated, and then sat beside her.

“Isn’t the park lovely?” Adele said.

Sax nodded. “Especially nice for a town this size.”

“I come here when I miss my home in Alexandria. Were you able to see the grounds at Woodmore when you were there?”

“Just as I drove up the circle drive,” Sax said. “What I saw of it was gorgeous.”

“Did you know my Alfred bought the land and had that big, beautiful house built for me as a wedding gift? Before it was even finished, friends and neighbors referred to it as Woodmore House—and it just stuck. Eventually, we just referred to the entire estate as Woodmore. It seemed fitting.”

Sax looked over at her; her faded blue eyes were suddenly animated.

“I lived there sixty years,” she said. “In many ways, Woodmore was its own little world. Everything I loved was there—Alfred, our lovely home, the rolling grounds. We didn’t have children and traveled a great deal when Alfred was alive. But after he passed away, the people who worked for me became my family.”

Sax listened patiently, wondering why the woman was going on and on about nothing.

“But it wasn’t always perfect,” Adele said. “I lost a child before she was born. It changed me—and not for the better. I never conceived again, and I blamed God and took my anger out on my staff. I was cruel and verbally abusive—so much so that Alfred had to pay ridiculously high salaries in order to get them to stay and put up with my ill treatment of them.”

“I would never have guessed that about you,” Sax said. “You seem like a gentle person.”

“I’m a different person now. But only since Alfred died, and I let the Lord have my heart. God changed me. But I had belittled and deeply wounded a number of people in the wake of my grief. I regret it, of course. I’ve gone to those people and asked forgiveness. Some gave it. Others asked me to leave and never come back.”

Sax just listened. He couldn’t imagine Adele Woodmore as abusive.

“I tell you this so you’ll realize that I understand the guilt you’re carrying and your need to reconcile with Shelby. She came to work for me after I had worked through my anger and bitterness. She was a trusted member of my household staff for six years. Did you know that?”

Sax shook his head. “Honestly, I don’t know much about what Shelby did after she finally left home. Mom said Shelby worked several jobs and saved until she could afford a car, then moved in with a girlfriend. My dad showed up at their doorstep, drunk and holding a ball bat, threatening Shelby if she didn’t come home. The police came before it got violent, but the friend was freaked out and told Shelby she would have to move out. Shelby disappeared after that and didn’t contact Mom for a couple of years. I found you listed in Mom’s address book as Shelby’s employer. That’s really all I know. Shelby obviously told Mom where she was, but she never went back.”

“But you did?” Adele said.

Sax shrugged. “I didn’t really have much choice. When my dad died, Mom needed me. I dropped out of the rock band and went home for the funeral. And stayed while the will was probated. My parents didn’t have much, but it all went to Mom. She had more than enough to live on. Her grief was surprising to me, since she was finally free. I guess she didn’t know how to be free. Didn’t matter. A short time later, she was diagnosed with lung cancer. She went through six months of agonizing pain, chemo, and adverse side effects before she finally died. I was with her through it all.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Sax. How did your father die?”

“He stopped at a bar on his way home from work and got smashed out of his mind. He stepped in front of a delivery truck and was killed instantly. Never knew what hit him. Mom, on the other hand, suffered for six long months. Go figure.”

“You think your father should have suffered instead?”

“Let’s just say I hope there’s a hell.” He folded his hands in his lap. “Mrs. Woodmore, I don’t think you asked me to meet you here so we could discuss my dysfunctional family.”

“No. But I’m very interested in every aspect of Shelby’s life. And since you’re her closest flesh-and-blood relative, I’m also very interested in you.”

“I already told you about myself. I’m a jazz musician, a three-time divorcé with no kids, no significant history, and no peace in my future unless I make things right. If it’s the last thing I ever do, I need to clear things up with Shelby.”

“And you think admitting you left her behind and asking her forgiveness will make things right?”

Sax breathed in and exhaled loudly. “I don’t know exactly
what
it will take to make things right. I just know I have to try. I don’t see how it can do anything but make things better for Shelby to know I’m sorry for abandoning her—whether she can forgive me or not.”

“And what if she can’t? What will you do then?”

“I’ll keep asking—and keep trying to earn her trust so she
can
forgive me. It might take a long time.”

“Two of the people I hurt have never forgiven me—even after going to them several times. It’s very painful. But I’ve finally accepted it.”

Sax studied her profile. “Did you ask me here to tell me that Shelby isn’t going to forgive me?”

Adele lifted her gaze and turned to him. “Sax, I’m not sure I can even get Shelby to contact you—let alone forgive you.”

“Have you asked her?”

“I dropped a pretty strong hint. I’d prefer to be direct, but I think that would be overstepping. I’m trying a different angle.”

“What’s that?”

“I’ve talked with her husband. I know he wants her to reconcile her past. He’s been working on her for years to go home and make peace with your mother. I’m afraid if she’s told both parents are dead, she won’t even try to dig up the past.”

“But isn’t that a good reason why she
should
do it?” Sax said. “The ashes of our parents have been stored in my closet for three years. I’ve held off doing anything with them until I could find Shelby. She may hate Mom and Dad, but there’s a flicker of attachment. I know there is. They’re our parents, for heaven’s sake. Why do you think I stayed and helped my mom? My relationship with my parents has always been complicated. Still is. I can’t seem to let them go.”

Adele looked out toward the duck pond. “Sax, tell me what Shelby has to gain in exchange for opening the door to a nightmarish past that she’s already put behind her—because I need to know.”

“All I can offer her is my deepest apology and a relationship with her brother, if she wants it. Why did you ask me to meet you, if you haven’t got anything new to tell me?”

Adele patted his hand. “Two reasons. I want to get to know you because you’re a part of Shelby. And I thought you should know a little about my past so that you’ll see I do understand why you need to tell Shelby how sorry you are.”

Sax sat back and sighed. “I’m relieved. I thought you were going to tell me you’d changed your mind.”

“Of course not. But I do think Shelby’s husband may be the one who can convince her that it’s in
her
best interest to hear you out. It may take time. You indicated you could stay a few days. I know your jazz band is going on tour. But if you could stay here a while longer, her husband might be able to convince her to see you.”

“Are you saying she’s here, in Les Barbes?”

“Don’t read into what I said, Sax. People have cars.”

“All right. Sure. I came here with one goal: to find Shelby and make things right. I’ll stay.”

Zoe, holding tightly to Pierce’s hand, sat several rows behind the Corbin family at Saint Catherine Catholic Church. The remainder of the pew was taken up by Adele and Isabel, Hebert, Father Sam, Tex, and Savannah. A heaviness hung over the congregation, even though Monsignor Robidoux wore white vestments and the altar was practically swallowed up by a plethora of brightly colored flower arrangements.

Zoe’s mind drifted during the Requiem Mass, and she thought back on one of her favorite memories of Domi. She had volunteered as a teacher’s helper at Grace’s preschool and noticed Grace having a confrontation at recess with Patty Muise, who pulled the ribbons off Grace’s pigtails and called her ugly. It was all Zoe could do not to rush in and handle it for Grace. A few minutes later the kids came in from recess, and she overheard Domi and Grace talking.…

Domi reached over and stroked Grace’s curls. “Don’t cwy. You don’t need pink wibbons to look pwetty.”

“Patty thinks I’m ugly.” Grace stuck out her bottom lip.

Domi shook his head. “Patty’s ugly. She never smiles. I think she took your wibbons because everyone likes you and no one likes her.”

“That’s because she’s mean.”

Domi was quiet for a moment. “I think Patty needs a hug.”

Grace pursed her lips and folded her arms tightly across her chest. “I’m not hugging Patty.”

“I will.” Domi stood. “She’s going to be mean until someone likes her.”

“She’s going to hit you,” Grace said.

“I’m not hitting her back. I’m going to pwetend I like her. Then if she stops being mean, maybe I weally will like her.…”

Zoe was jolted back to the present when Monsignor stepped up to the lectern to deliver his sermon. What would he say—could he say—to make the family feel better?

A hush fell over the congregation, and then Monsignor looked out at the people and spoke in his deep, resonant voice.

“I baptized Dominic Nicholas Corbin four years ago last week. I remember it for a number of reasons, not the least of which is because he seemed totally relaxed in my arms, even when I poured the water on his forehead. He looked into my eyes and seemed to hang on every word. I honestly wondered if the child understood exactly what was happening.”

Zoe smiled in spite of herself, aware of Pierce squeezing her hand.

“Dominic had a teachable, cooperative spirit. He was a true peacemaker. He didn’t hit. He didn’t lie. He didn’t steal. He wasn’t disruptive. He shared what he had. He obeyed without arguing—well, most of the time. I understand he wouldn’t wear red.”

Margot and Josh and other family members laughed among themselves, and Monsignor paused to let others enjoy the moment.

“Dominic just didn’t like red.” Monsignor chuckled. “But when we stop to think about this little boy’s life, it’s exemplary. He was only four. But his example is something we should think about. What kind of world would it be if we all shared freely of whatever we had? If we didn’t lie? Or steal? If we were never disruptive or rude? If we obeyed the people God has put in authority over us? The apostle Paul wrote about it in the thirteenth chapter of First Corinthians. This is what he said: ‘If I speak in human and angelic tongues but do not have love, I am a resounding gong or a clashing cymbal. And if I have the gift of prophecy and comprehend all mysteries and all knowledge; if I have all faith so as to move mountains but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give away everything I own, and if I hand my body over so that I may boast but do not have love, I gain nothing.

“‘Love is patient, love is kind. It is not jealous, is not pompous, it is not inflated, it is not rude, it does not seek its own interests, it is not quick-tempered, it does not brood over injury, it does not rejoice over wrongdoing but rejoices with the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.