Relentless Pursuit: A Novel (Secrets of Roux River Bayou) (26 page)

Chapter 29

Emily pulled into the guest parking lot at Langley Manor and spotted Sax and Carter in the pool. She got out and walked over to them, the smell of mock orange permeating the night air.

“Hey, guys. How’s it going?”

“Sax and me are the champs!” Carter declared. “We beat Mr. and Mrs. Adams in every game of volleyball.”

“The couple from North Carolina?” Emily said.

Carter nodded. “We beat them three times.”

“They were no match for this guy.” Sax splashed Carter and made him squeal. “I was just here to complete the team.”

“I’m glad you two
boys
had fun.” Emily stepped a little closer, her gaze on Carter. “I’m sorry I’ve had to be gone the past few days. There’s been a lot going on with Chance’s parents’ funeral. And now his aunt Reba and I are cleaning out his parents’ closet and personal things. But soon I’ll be able to spend some time with you.”

“It’s okay,” Carter said. “Sax and me are having fun.”

Emily glanced at her watch. “It’s after ten. How come you’re still up?”

“Mom said I could. I can sleep late.”

Sax splashed Carter again and got him in a headlock and started tickling him.

Emily smiled despite feeling jealous that she wasn’t in the pool with Carter instead of Sax. “Have fun, guys. I’m beat.”

“Good night, Auntie Em!” Carter let out a husky laugh.

Sax shot her an amused and quizzical look.

“We can all thank
The
Wizard of Oz
for that one.” Emily chuckled. “I started referring to myself as Auntie Em when Vanessa was pregnant with Carter, and it stuck.”

“I think it’s sweet,” Sax said.

“Well, Auntie Em is off to bed. Good night, guys.”

Emily walked down the sidewalk and up the back steps to the deck. She went in the back door, a blast of air-conditioned air cooling her face, and saw Vanessa and Ethan sitting at the kitchen table.

“Wow, do you look tired,” Vanessa said.

“I am. Reba and I worked hard and got a lot accomplished.”

“Want a cookie?” Ethan held up a plate, neatly arranged with peanut butter, oatmeal raisin, and chocolate chip cookies.

“No, thanks. I’m too tired to chew.”

“What did you accomplish?” Ethan said.

“I cleaned out shelves in the garage and helped Reba empty out the closets in Chance’s parents’ room. Then we filled Reba’s minivan, and she took everything to the thrift shop. It was a lot of work, but it feels good to have it behind us.”

“What’s left now?” Vanessa said, in that nosy tone Emily resented.

“We have to finish emptying the shelves in the garage and the dresser drawers, and then we’re done. I doubt Chance is going to do anything about selling the house for a long time. He just needs time to grieve and get his thoughts together over the summer so he can get back to Harvard.”

“Do you think he can do that?” Ethan said. “His whole world just shattered.”

“I don’t know. I hope so.”

“Maybe he should take a semester off.” Ethan took a bite of cookie. “Just to clear his head.”

Emily shrugged. “I doubt that’s even occurred to him. He’s too dazed at the moment to think that far ahead. I’m going to bed. I promised Reba I’d meet her in the morning so we could finish up. Good night.”

Emily walked down the hall and into the guest room. She closed the door and flopped onto the bed, her hands behind her head, watching the ceiling fan go round and round. It felt so good to get off her feet, cool off, and just let her thoughts wander. She had grown fond of Reba and was actually sad that she would be going back to Shreveport so soon.

Emily lay in the quiet, thinking about Chance’s unexpected kiss that had left her wanting more. She replayed the moment over and over in her mind. An innocent kiss certainly didn’t mean she was falling in love with him. But being that close to him affected her in a way that was new and exciting. She certainly wouldn’t resist if he kissed her again.

Emily yawned, her body sinking into the mattress, her muscles relaxing, her thoughts slowing down. She imagined herself drifting on a sea of calm, floating weightlessly, her mind emptied of tomorrow’s to-do list.…

Joanna Arceneau
! Emily opened her eyes, suddenly remembering where she had heard that name. She got up, went over to the dresser, picked up Monday’s
Les Barbes Ledger,
and turned to the obituaries.

There she was: Joanna Arceneau, the woman she had seen in the photograph with Chance’s father. She was one of the cyanide victims who was discovered dead on Saturday morning—the same morning Chance’s parents died. It might have been coincidence that Huet Durand and his lover were both victims. But what if it wasn’t? What if there was a common thread that could point to the killer?

Emily sighed, bemoaning for a moment the inconvenience of being the daughter of a police chief. There was no way she could ignore this information. She would have to confront Reba with it in the morning and find out if Lydia ever told her the name of the woman who was having an affair with Huet.

If Reba confirmed it was Joanna Arceneau, they would have to inform the sheriff. So much for protecting the secret.

Sax sat out on the deck at Langley Manor, too stimulated to sleep after spending the evening trying to keep up with an active almost nine-year-old. Carter was a fun-loving, happy kid, enjoyable to be around, especially at a time when Sax’s own haunting childhood memories were being replayed in his mind with stark realism.

It occurred to him that he’d had more quality time in the pool with Carter in three hours than he’d spent with his own father the entire time he was growing up. Why did he still feel as if it must have been his fault that his father hit him? Common sense now told him that a child is not responsible for the actions of his parents. But his dad had blamed him, and Sax always wondered if it really was his fault—if he was sorely lacking as a son. That made no sense since his dad was cruel to his mom and Shelby, too. But he couldn’t seem to shake the feeling that if he’d been the kind of son they’d wanted, Frank and Raleigh Sieger might have been different parents.

He wondered if Shelby was as happy as Adele Woodmore seemed to think she was. Didn’t battered children often grow up to be abusers—or marry them? Perhaps it was a blessing that he’d never had children—not that he could imagine ever doing to a child what his father had done to him. Or to Shelby. He cringed at the thought and blinked away the image that popped up in his mind.

He wiped the perspiration off his forehead. Would Shelby feel compelled to unload the details of her abuse that he had no desire to know—details that would sicken him and add to his already overwhelming guilt? Was he prepared for her fury? For her hatred? For her rejection?

Rejection.
He’d lived with it for a lifetime. Both parents. Three wives. Even God. But he needed to get this right. Shelby was his ticket to finally finding peace. He could not allow himself to be defeated simply because this was hard. Leaving her without some sort of resolution was not an option.

The last time he’d left Shelby, he had been the one in control.…

Michael picked up his suitcase and guitar and walked softly toward the front door, startled by a voice that seemed to come from nowhere.

“Where are you going?”

Michael cringed at the sound of Shelby’s voice. Why wasn’t she asleep?

“My band’s got a gig,” he told her.

“In the middle of the night?” Shelby’s tone told him she wasn’t buying it.

Michael stopped and turned his gaze on his father’s passed-out body, the smell of whiskey permeating the living room and making him feel sick to his stomach.

“Look, Shelby, three minutes from now, I’ll be seventeen. I don’t have to put up with this anymore. I can do what I want now.”

“
I
can’t.”

Michael turned to her. “Don’t even think it. You’re not coming with me.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re a minor. It’s kidnapping. I have no legal right to take you.”

“Even if I want to go?”

“No. The cops will find us and drag you back here. Whatever you tell them, Mom and Dad will deny it and make them believe you’re just a rebellious teenager who’s making it all up. Then Dad will be furious, and things will be worse than they already are.”

“Then we’ll hide from the police,” Shelby said.

“Playing gigs makes it a little hard to do that. But being on the road with a rock band is no life for a young girl.”

“And this
is
?”

“Look, I’ll find a way to get you out of here. But you can’t go on tour with me and the band.”

“When are you coming back?”

“I’m not sure. But when I do, I’ll have a plan to get you away from here.”

“Promise?”

He nodded. “I’ll figure out something.”

Shelby ran over to him and clung to his arm, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I don’t want you to go, Michael. I love you.”

“I love you, too. Don’t be scared. This won’t be forever.”

The grandfather clock began to strike midnight. With every gong that resounded, Michael felt an adrenaline rush of freedom and empowerment. “Time to go, Sis. I’ll talk to you soon.”

Shelby clung to him a few seconds longer and then let go.

Michael stepped over his dad and stood straddling his passed-out body, gripping a guitar in one hand and suitcase in the other.

“Good riddance, old man. And just for the record:
you’re
the miserable, good-for-nothing piece of garbage.” Michael spit on him and then left by the front door.…

He never did contact Shelby. When his efforts to get his mother to leave failed, he decided it would only make things worse. How could he look into Shelby’s eyes and see the fear and despair he remembered all too well but was powerless to change? The longer he went without contacting her, the easier it was to let her go.…

Sax looked out into the darkness and then felt enveloped by it.
I was a coward, Shelby. I should have fought for you. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.

Unwanted tears trailed down his cheeks, and he was no longer able to keep his thumb in the bulging dike of emotion that had been building for a lifetime. Anger. Guilt. Shame. Sorrow. Regret. All breaking through his defenses, forming a flood of tears and sobs he hadn’t heard since he was a boy. Sax stopped trying to control it. He just buried his face in his hands—and wept.

Chapter 30

Emily glanced at her watch, then downed a lukewarm cup of coffee and picked up her purse.

“Are you leaving already?” Vanessa said.

“I told Reba I would meet her at Chance’s at seven.”

“You’re going to get sick if you keep up this pace and don’t start sleeping more.”

“I slept for over seven hours, Vanessa. That’s more sleep than I get at college.”

“I just don’t want you to be wiped out on Saturday when you’re supposed to go back to work.”

Emily counted to ten and then turned to her older sister. “I have
never
ever
missed a day’s work because I wore myself out. I’ve always been a responsible employee. For heaven’s sake, I got through a year of college with a 4.0 without anyone babysitting me. I think I can handle helping a friend clean out closets and drawers without you making a federal case out of it. So will you please just back off?”

Vanessa bit her lip. “You’re right. I’m doing it again. Sorry.”

Emily lowered her voice and spoke calmly. “I talked to Carter last night. I told him we would start doing some fun things soon. He seemed like he was having a ball playing in the pool with Sax.”

“He really likes Sax. Ethan and I are always watchful of any male who wants to spend time with him. But Sax seems really nice.”

“Just know I haven’t forgotten Carter. I need a few days to help Reba sort through things and to help Chance get on his feet.”

“Go,” Vanessa said. “You’re a good friend, Emily. I hope Chance and Reba appreciate you.”

“They do. Talk to you tonight.”

Emily went out the back door, down the deck steps, and out to the guest parking lot. She got in her blue Honda CR-V and headed for Les Barbes.

Zoe closed the door to her apartment and went downstairs and through the alcove, the melded aromas of brewed coffee, sausage cheese bread, and spicy bacon wafting from the dining room.

She walked through the doorway and spotted Savannah at the table by the window, pouring coffee for Hebert, Father Sam, and Tex, who were eating breakfast.

“Good morning, everyone.” Zoe came alongside Savannah. “Y’all doing all right?”

Three heads bobbed in the affirmative.

“Did you hear that a Hispanic roofer was hospitalized with cyanide poisoning?” Tex said.

Zoe sighed. “No. When?”

“Last night. He worked until dark and then drank the bottle of Gaudry water he had stashed in his truck.” Tex shook his head. “So help me, I can’t figure out how anyone could not know by this time that the stuff’s been recalled—even if they don’t speak much English.”

Hebert looked up at her, his face unshaven, his woolly gray curls tamer than usual. “At least it’s not someting new. We know not to drink da water.”

Savannah poured Hebert a cup of coffee. “Hebert’s right. Maybe whoever did this is done with Les Barbes and has skipped town.”

“Or is regrouping,” Zoe said. “Who knows what could be poisoned next. I don’t think we should take anything for granted.”

Father Sam’s eyebrows came together. “You seem bothered by something, Zoe. Is it just sadness over Dominic?”

Zoe shook her head. “I have to make a decision about something, and I’m a little distracted. I’ll be fine.”

“Want to talk ’bout it?” Tex said.

“It’s not that kind of thing. It would take too long to explain it. But thanks.”

Zoe felt four pairs of eyes staring at her. She pasted on a smile. “I’ve got work to do. I’ll see y’all later.”

She walked to the kitchen and saw Pierce at the worktable, filling orders. He glanced up and smiled. “Hey, babe.”

“Hey yourself.”

“I was glad to see you finally fell asleep.”

Zoe sighed. “Finally. I’m not operating on all cylinders, though.”

“You had lots of time to think. Have you decided what you’re going to tell Adele?”

“I still have six hours.”

Pierce’s eyebrows came together. “You really haven’t decided yet?”

“What choice do I really have? If I refuse to see Sax, I negate everything I told him about God using the bad things for good. He already thinks faith in God is a crock.”

“What do
you
think?”

“You know what I think.”

“I know what you
said
.” Pierce wiped his hands and came over to her, looking into her eyes. “I don’t pretend to know what you’re feeling or what it was like to come from an abusive home. But if you believe Romans 8:28 is true, and that God uses all things for good in a believer’s life, then you should be able to face your brother with some confidence, right?”

“I should. So why am I so scared?”

Pierce put his arms around her and held her close. “It has to be scary opening a door to a violent past. But remember, it’s history. It’s not your reality anymore. You’re safe now. And you’re a healthy, well-adjusted, amazing wife and mother.” He kissed her forehead. “I love you with all my heart and soul. I know you can do this.”

A tear trickled down her cheek. “I really don’t want to.”

“I know. But this is the last chapter, Zoe. This is it. Once you face Michael, there are no more secrets. Nothing left undone. That has to be worth whatever pain is involved. I know you think you have to do this by yourself, but my offer to go with you stands.”

She nestled closer. “Thanks. But I have to face him alone.”

“So you’re definitely going to meet with him?”

“I guess. But I’m not admitting it to myself for another six hours.”

“If you’ve made the decision, babe, why wait? Why not go out to Langley Manor and face him? Get it over with before you have time to talk yourself out of it.”

“What if I get angry and tell him off?”

“Ask the Lord to help you let go of your anger appropriately. He brought Michael to you for a reason. Michael may not know that, but we do.”

“I’d give anything for another way. But I’m never going to be completely free until I resolve this issue with Michael.”

“Agreed.” Pierce looked into her eyes and seemed to touch her soul.

“I need to tell Vanessa first. She’ll be glad this is finally happening after all the years she’s been praying for me. She and Carter are taken with Sax. She’s going to be shocked to find out he’s my brother.”

Emily unlocked the kitchen door at Chance’s house and let herself in. She listened for any indication that Chance was up.

“Hello? Chance, it’s Emily. Are you awake?”

She walked through the living room to the hallway and saw that his door was closed. Let him sleep. She needed to talk to Reba first thing.

She went back into the kitchen, just as Reba was coming in the door.

“Good morning, Emily.” Reba wore white crop pants and a royal-blue tunic, a nice contrast with the white highlights in her hair. “Are you ready to get started?”

“Almost.” Emily motioned toward the table. “Sit with me for a minute. I need to talk with you about something before Chance gets up.”

The two women sat at the table.

“I was going through Mr. Durand’s dresser after you left yesterday,” Emily said, “and found a stack of pictures—almost all of them were of one woman, salt-and-pepper hair, blue eyes, fiftyish, attractive. Mr. Durand was in one of the photos with her. A woman’s name was written on the back. Chance came in and saw the photos and thumbed through them. I’m not sure if he saw the one of her and his dad together. He said he didn’t recognize the woman and that he would trash the pictures.”

“Well, good,” Reba said.

“The thing is, after I got home, I remembered where I’d heard the name that was written on the back of the photo: Joanna Arceneau was a victim of the cyanide poisonings. She was brought to the emergency room DOA on Saturday morning, same as Chance’s parents. Did you know that?”

“No, I didn’t. But I don’t see what that has to do with anything,” Reba said.

“It might if Joanna Arceneau is the woman Mr. Durand was having an affair with.”

Reba folded her hands on the table. “Why?”

“Because if two victims—who died in the same way on the same morning—were having an affair, there could be a connection that might lead to the killer. The sheriff needs to know that.”

“I … I can’t tell the sheriff about the affair. He’ll want to talk to Chance. I promised Lydia that Chance would never find out.”

“So it was Joanna Arceneau?”

“I don’t think it’s any of your business who it was.”

“Reba, if I don’t tell the sheriff what I’ve discovered, I would be withholding evidence in a murder investigation—evidence that might help the authorities find out who killed your sister. You want that, don’t you?”

“Well, of course I do. But just because two people were having an affair and each drank a certain brand of bottled water doesn’t mean there was a connection.”

“I realize that. But the sheriff needs to know everything because he’s the one putting pieces of the puzzle together. My mom’s a cop. I grew up around this kind of thing. You never know. It might be important.”

Reba tapped nervously on the table. “What do you suggest?”

“We have to give this information to the sheriff.”

“Poor Lydia would turn over in her grave, if she knew what was going on.”

“She’d want you to do the right thing.” Emily sighed. “We should tell Chance first and give him the option to go with us when we give our statements.”

“I can’t tell him,” Reba said. “I just can’t.”

“Then I will.”

Reba put her fist to her mouth and seemed to choke back the emotion. “It’s all for naught. What are the chances that Huet and Joanna’s affair will shed any light on this case?”

“I don’t know. But any connection between victims is something the sheriff needs to know about.”

Emily sat on the side of Chance’s bed, holding his hand, waiting for him to react to the news that his father had been having an affair.

“So you’re saying the woman he cheated with was the one in the photographs I threw out?” Chance finally said.

“Yes. Reba confirmed that Joanna Arceneau was the woman your mother said he was having an affair with.”

Chance sighed and shook his head. “I had a bad feeling yesterday, when I thumbed through the photos and saw my dad and her together in one of the pictures. Dad was such a fake. People thought he was a wonderful husband and father. I always knew he flunked the father category. But this? I don’t even know what to say. I never thought he’d betray Mom.”

“I’m so sorry to be the one to tell you.”

“Don’t worry about it, Emily. It would be hard to make me think less of my dad than I already did.”

“We really have to tell the sheriff.”

“No. We really don’t. It’s nobody’s business. I don’t want Mom’s memory tarnished with this.”

Emily squeezed his hand. “I understand. But the sheriff isn’t going to make it public knowledge. He just needs to know, that’s all. It might not be important at all. But it’s information he doesn’t have.”

“Can it wait a couple days—just until I have a chance to assimilate what you’re telling me?”

“The sooner we tell the sheriff, the sooner he can see if the information can help move the investigation forward. I’m sure the sheriff would send deputies here to the house, if we call him. All we have to do is tell him what we know. That’s it.”

Chance looked over at her. “You really think this piece of embarrassing information is going to help solve the case?”

Emily shrugged. “If I learned anything growing up around law enforcement, it’s that every piece of the puzzle is important. If there’s even a slim chance this could help the sheriff find out who killed your parents, I think it’s worth reporting it.”