Relentless Pursuit: A Novel (Secrets of Roux River Bayou) (23 page)

Chapter 24

Jude sat at the conference table in his office, Thursday’s issue of the
Les Barbes Ledger
set off to the side, as he mulled over the facts they had on the cyanide case. Whoever had done this terrible deed knew exactly what he or she was doing. No suspicious DNA or fingerprints were found on any of the bottles. So far, none of the employees at Marcotte’s or Gaudry’s warehouse or the transport company looked good for this. All law enforcement had was the security tape showing the back of the man they believed poisoned the food bar. Dark hair. Medium build. Caucasian or Hispanic. Might be young. Or not. About as generic as it gets.

He picked up the report from the Department of Health and Hospitals and reread it. Why did he keep coming back to the fact that the cyanide concentration in the bottled water was consistently ten times the lethal dose, and the concentration in the pudding on the food bar was only one-half the lethal dose? Was that significant? Or was it just easier to measure what was injected into the bottles, as Dr. Jensen had suggested?

Even though the bloggers were having a heyday stirring up the public to suspect Muslim extremists were behind this, the MO didn’t fit. Not even for domestic terrorism. Anyone wanting to make a statement would have claimed responsibility long before now—and would have taken out more people. If they could inject cyanide into pudding, why not the entire food bar? And why not more bottled water? Were they waiting until the dust settled to strike again?

A knock startled him. He turned and saw Aimee standing in the doorway.

“Come in,” he said. “I was just going over the files on the cyanide case.”

“You’ve been going over the files for more than two hours, Sheriff.” Aimee glanced down at the conference table. “Did you find anything?”

“Not really. I keep coming back to what you said, that whoever did this could’ve taken out a lot more people. We’re missing something, but I can’t put my finger on it. What’s up?”

“I cleaned out my inbox and was just coming to see what you wanted me to concentrate on.”

“Have we finished questioning everyone who handled the Gaudry bottled water from its origin to Marcotte’s?”

“I think so,” Aimee said. “We’ve had scores of police officers helping us. I have to say that nothing I’ve seen so far has given me pause. No one we’ve questioned has come across as smug or condescending. Everyone seemed genuinely outraged by what happened and eager to cooperate. I know the perp could be faking it. But the investigating officers just haven’t found anyone to be suspicious.”

Jude brushed the hair off his forehead. “Maybe it’s time to take an even closer look at the victims.”

“We’ve pretty well established that the victims weren’t targeted. There doesn’t seem to be any connection.”

“It’s that pesky word,
seem,
that bothers me.”

Aimee smiled. “How would you like me to proceed?”

“I want a spreadsheet listing each victim’s name, personal stats, where and how they ingested cyanide, and if any of the victims knew each other or frequented the same establishments. Hired any of the same people. Ever worked for the same company. Anything that might link any of them together. You’ll have to go back to the families. I know they’re grieving, but we need their help for this.”

Aimee started to say something and then didn’t.

“You think this is the wrong play?” Jude arched his eyebrows.

“Sheriff, it’s your call, and I’ll support you. But my gut feeling is that it’s a time-intensive, desperate measure that isn’t going anywhere. Our victims are old, young, black, white, brown, middle class, upper class. It doesn’t seem like there’s any pattern there.”

“There’s that pesky word,
seem,
again,” Jude said. “We really haven’t dug very deeply into the victims’ lives.”

“Why would we? Everything points to their being random victims.”

Jude held her gaze. “I’ve been sitting here for two solid hours trying to find anything that points us to whoever’s responsible. It’s not in the information we’ve gathered so far. If you have a better idea, I’m listening.”

Aimee shook her head. “I don’t.”

“I want you to get Gil focused on gathering this information. We’re missing something. Let’s find it.”

Sax sat at the dining room table at Langley Manor, eating the breakfast crepes Vanessa had served him.

“These are delicious. I can taste every ingredient.” Sax closed his eyes. “Andouille sausage, Swiss cheese, onion, mushroom, black olives. Oh, and red bell pepper. The sauce you use is out of this world. What’s in it?”

“Cream, butter, ricotta, fresh-grated parmesan, a touch of Chardonnay, a little of Pierce’s signature hot sauce, and spices. There’s not enough of it in there to clog your arteries.” Vanessa laughed. “I’m glad you like it.”

“I’m getting really spoiled. It’s going to be boring going home to microwave sausage biscuits for breakfast. Where did you learn to cook like this?”

Vanessa smiled. “I’ve always loved trying new recipes. But I learned most of what I know from Pierce Broussard.”

“He’s an incredible chef.”

Vanessa nodded. “Did you know he was a high school history teacher when he and Zoe met? He hasn’t been to fine cooking schools or gotten all the enviable degrees. Zoe recognized his talent and hired him. He’s mostly self-taught.”

“Good for him,” Sax said. “Same for me with the saxophone. I played electric guitar with a rock band way back when. As I got older, I got interested in jazz and picked up the saxophone. I haven’t put it down since.”

“That’s so neat. Pierce loves jazz and has been sharing some of his CDs with Ethan and me.”

“It’s in my blood now,” Sax said. “I don’t think I could give it up if I tried. Not that I want to. I love playing professionally.”

“You said you’ve been with the same group for ten years. I imagine y’all are close.”

“There’s a lot of loyalty there. They’re the only family I have. I’m the moody one in the band, and the guys have cut me a lot of slack over the years.”

“You don’t strike me as moody,” Vanessa said.

Sax lifted an eyebrow. “I’m in relaxation mode. I should do it more often. It’s kind of hard to be anything but mellow in a gorgeous place like Langley Manor, with a beautiful and gracious hostess cooking me breakfasts like this. Plus I’ve truly enjoyed getting to know the Broussards and savoring Pierce’s cooking for lunch and dinner. I may go back to New Orleans with an extra ten pounds on me.”

“Good morning, everyone.” Emily breezed into the dining room.

“Well, don’t you look pretty,” Sax said. “That blue sundress brings out the color of your eyes.”

Emily’s face turned as pink as her lip gloss. “Thanks. I’m going over to Chance’s this morning to work with his aunt Reba on getting some accounts canceled. We need to get his parents’ closet cleared out too.”

“Then I guess it’s good you wore your work clothes.” Vanessa’s sarcasm didn’t seem lost on Emily either.

“Chance seems like a very nice guy,” Sax quickly added. “I wish we had met under better circumstances. Didn’t I hear someone say he was a student at Harvard Medical School?”

Emily popped a mushroom into her mouth. “Yes, he’s studying to be a neurosurgeon.”

“Impressive. And what about you? Have you narrowed down your specialty?”

“Absolutely. I’m going to be an ob-gyn. I’ve wanted to deliver babies almost as long as I can remember.” Emily sat at the table and glanced over at Vanessa. “I was in the delivery room when Carter was born. I thought it was about the most miraculous thing I’d ever witnessed.”

“Speaking of Carter,” Vanessa said, “he’s still gung ho about you taking him to the water park.”

“I will—soon.” Emily poured herself a glass of orange juice. “I just need to get this week of helping Chance’s aunt Reba behind me.”

Sax sensed the tension between the two sisters and felt awkward that he had eavesdropped on their private disagreement of a few nights ago and knew more than he should. As an objective observer, he could clearly see both sides of this argument.

How he envied their relationship. He wondered how many times Shelby had needed advice, whether she knew it or not, and there was no older sibling there to look out for her.

He took the last bite of crepes and wiped his mouth on the napkin, then stood. “That was superb, Vanessa. Now if you ladies will excuse me, I think I’ll take a stroll on the grounds before it gets too hot.”

“I’ll be serving breakfast until eleven,” Vanessa said, “if you decide you want seconds.”

Sax winked. “Don’t tempt me. I think I overdid it as it is.”

He walked into the kitchen and out the back door onto the deck, standing for a moment to admire the cane fields that swayed in the breeze. Maybe this would be the day that Shelby agreed to see him. The thought both energized and terrified him. He kept telling himself he was prepared for her anger and even her rejection. He had already decided that, no matter how Shelby reacted, he wasn’t giving up. He had to prove to her that he was serious about wanting back into her life. But if it got ugly and she ripped him apart, did he have enough resolve to withstand her fury?

Zoe left Grace and Tucker in Maddie’s capable hands and walked downstairs and into the dining room at Zoe B’s, thrilled to see it bustling with customers. The hum of happy chatter was better than music to her soul and just might help her forget the sadness that was just under the surface.

She walked over to the table by the window, where Hebert, Father Sam, and Tex were eating breakfast, and Savannah was pouring coffee.

“Good morning, everyone,” Zoe said.

Hebert, his curls unruly as ever, flashed a warm grin and took her hand. “How you feel dis morning?”

“Better,” she said. “Monsignor’s eulogy is still playing in my head. It gave me such a positive way to think of Domi’s life.”

Father Sam nodded. “I can’t imagine what he could have said that would have been any more suited.”

“Yeah,” Tex said, “Monsignor carried the ball to the goal with that one.”

“At the risk of sounding insensitive”—Savannah filled Tex’s cup with coffee—“I’m glad I don’t know any of the other victims. I don’t want to go through this again.”

“Maybe the crisis is over now.” Tex sat back in his chair, his thumbs hooked on his red suspenders. “Won’t fix the pain, but it’d sure be nice if we didn’t get news of any more deaths.”

“Jude has certainly seen to it that the public is informed about the threat,” Zoe said. “I can’t imagine there’s anyone left on the planet that doesn’t know better than to drink Gaudry water.”

Hebert let go of her hand and seemed far away for a few moments. Finally he said, “But Domi didn’t die from da water. I don’t tink we can let down our guard.”

“I agree,” Savannah said. “Is anybody else paying attention to what the bloggers are saying?”

“They’re just stirring up trouble,” Father Sam said. “The authorities have as much as said they don’t think this was done by terrorists—Muslim or otherwise.”

“You expect dem to admit it outright?” Hebert shook his head. “Dey not going to scare everyone.”

“But Jude wouldn’t lie to this community either,” Zoe said. “If he suspected terrorists, he’d say so.”

“We’ve been over this ad nauseam.” Tex waved his hand. “We’ve got to
trust
the folks in place to deal with it. They’ll tell us what we need to know.”

“Dey might.” Hebert pursed his lips. “And dey might not.”

“All right, moving right along”—Father Sam raised his voice slightly—“since Domi’s funeral is behind us, and Monsignor did an extraordinary job of leaving us with positive thoughts, perhaps we could choose to dwell on that for a while.”

“Amen.” Zoe lowered her voice. “Guys, let’s not get into these discussions when customers are in the eatery. The last thing we need is to stir things up with tourists.”

Tex wiped his forehead with his kerchief. “I’ll change the subject. That fella that’s been comin’ in every day—Sax Henry—sure is nice. I got to talkin’ with him and found out he’s from Texas too. Small world.”

“Did he tell you he’s a saxophone player?” Zoe said.

“Sure did. Said he plays in a jazz band in the Big Easy.”

“And,” Zoe said, “he’s enamored with Pierce’s cooking, so we’re going out of our way to make him feel welcome and hope he’ll go home to New Orleans and tell a few folks about Zoe B’s—and our fair city.”

“I sure hope he’s able to hook up with the gal he’s lookin’ for,” Tex said.

“He said he was here on business.” Zoe looked over at Tex. “I didn’t realize he was looking for someone. Did he say who?”

“Nah, just a gal from Texas he’s lost touch with over the years—someone he knew from Devon Springs.”

Devon Springs
? Zoe breathed in and didn’t exhale, her mind racing in reverse. Adele’s visit from the brother of a woman who worked for her. Adele’s insistence that Sax eat at Zoe B’s. Pierce’s peculiar interest in keeping Sax coming back. Pierce’s sudden push for her to go back to Devon Springs and see her mom. Sax’s violent background. His Texas roots. His bitterness.