Relentless Pursuit: A Novel (Secrets of Roux River Bayou) (7 page)

Sax suddenly felt hot and dabbed the perspiration from his forehead. “You cut right to the chase, don’t you?”

“I’m quite familiar with your upbringing, Sax. Shelby told me all about your father’s drinking and his violent, loathsome behavior. He stole that child’s innocence because he couldn’t control his lust or his whiskey. And it happened repeatedly.”

He was taken aback by Adele’s bluntness. So it was true. He suddenly felt sick to his stomach. “If I … I’d known what to do for Shelby, I would have done it. I was a kid myself—and a coward. I was afraid of my dad.”

Adele started to say something and then didn’t. Finally she said, “Couldn’t you have at least let the authorities know what was going on?”

Sax stared at his hands. “That was almost thirty years ago. No one talked openly about sexual abuse like they do now. Shelby never said a word about it, and neither did my mother. I wasn’t even sure that’s what was happening. I guess I didn’t want to know. But every time Dad was arrested for drunken behavior, he came home madder and meaner. Mom did everything she could to cover for him. Any time the police got involved, she backed up his story. Shelby and I were stuck.”

“Yes, when you were still a minor,” Adele said. “What I struggle with is why you didn’t ask Shelby to live with you when you were on your own.”

“I was in a rock band. That’s how I supported myself. Shelby didn’t tell you?”

“She mentioned it. She didn’t elaborate.”

“I was on the road most of the time and lived in a bus with four other guys that drank and drugged and brought women in.” Sax felt his cheeks warm. “It was no life for a young girl. Plus, I believed if I took Shelby out of the house, my dad would kill my mom and make it look like an accident.”

“Were you into drugs and drinking?” Adele said.

Sax drew a line on the condensation on his glass. “Not exactly. I’ve never touched alcohol in my life. I saw what it did to my father, and I didn’t want any part of it. I smoked plenty of pot, but I never did anything more serious than that.”

Why was he letting Mrs. Woodmore give him the third degree? What choice did he have? She was his only way back into Shelby’s life. He might as well keep it honest with her.

“Music is my drug of choice these days,” Sax said. “I gave up marijuana at the same time I quit smoking cigarettes ten years ago.” He sighed. “Look. I really shouldn’t have to tell you all this. I’ve had a tragic personal life. I married three really great women and couldn’t make any of them happy. All this guilt I’m carrying has poisoned my relationships. I’m not the abusive loser my father was. But my life’s a mess. I want to know Shelby. She’s my sister. My own flesh and blood …” He choked on the words and let a wave of emotion pass. “I don’t have anyone else. Our parents are both gone now.”

Adele exhaled. “I suppose Shelby should be told about that. It’s going to bring up such painful memories.”

“Surely she’s wondered about them—about me?”

“I suppose she has,” Adele said. “But she never talks about any of you anymore. And she made no effort to contact your parents when her children were born.”

“So she has more than just the one daughter?”

A row of lines formed on Adele’s forehead. “I’m not comfortable telling you anything else. I think that should be Shelby’s choice.”

“But she’s happy now?”

“Yes.” Adele seemed lost in thought for a moment. “I can’t begin to tell you what a toll her upbringing took on her. But she’s full of life now.”

“That’s what I want. I just don’t know how to get there.”

“How hard are you willing to work, Sax? I can assure you that Shelby can’t give you a magic formula. She had to work through the pain.”

“Well, I didn’t give up on finding her, even after every lead turned out to be a dead end. I’m not afraid of working through the pain, Mrs. Woodmore. What I am afraid of is living with it for the rest of my life.”

“I see.” She linked her fingers together, her unwavering gaze seeming to bore a hole in his defenses. Was she enjoying making him squirm? Making him wonder if he had come all this way for nothing?

Sax leaned forward on his elbows. “You said you’re a straightforward woman. So be straightforward. Are you going to tell Shelby I’m looking for her, or not?”

Chapter 7

The western sky was emblazoned with streaks of fiery pink and purple as Sax parked his PT Cruiser in the guest parking lot at Langley Manor. He sat for a moment, grateful that Adele Woodmore had made the suggestion that he try to find a room there. According to the proprietor, Vanessa Langley, it was highly unusual for there to be a vacancy this time of year. He’d just happened to call right after someone canceled. What were the odds of that happening? He had to wonder if the cyanide poisonings had something to do with it, but Vanessa hadn’t alluded to it on the phone.

He got out of the car and stood for a moment, admiring the stately white plantation house, its four pillars taking on the sunset’s rosy hue. The historic antebellum home was nestled between flowering shrubs and under the arms of a magnificent live oak. Stunning.

The room rate was a lot more than he had planned to pay, but he felt as if retreating from the city would do him good while Adele was making up her mind whether to contact Shelby. Adele promised to tell him within the next few days.

Sax grabbed his suitcase and walked up the front steps, the smell of old wood pervasive except for the glorious scent of mock orange blossoms somewhere nearby. He looked through the sheers on the glass panes in the door, then turned the shiny brass knob and went inside. A second later a young man with dark, curly hair and glasses walked up to him and shook his hand.

“Welcome to Langley Manor. I’m Ethan Langley. You must be Mr. Henry.”

“Yes, call me Sax.” He smiled. “It’s a nickname. I’m a musician. I play the saxophone.”

“Really? That’s cool. Kenny G is my favorite. I must have every CD he’s done. You like him?”

“Well, he single-handedly took traditional jazz and transformed it into pop with great success. It’s hard to fault a guy that’s sold a bazillion million CDs. I’m a traditionalist, myself.” He didn’t want to spend the next five minutes talking about Kenny G. “I’m really glad you can accommodate me, Ethan. I drove up today from New Orleans and didn’t even think about making reservations ahead of time. I didn’t realize Les Barbes is such a tourist town.”

“Tourism is huge,” Ethan said. “We stay busy year-round, but the town draws half its revenue during June, July, and August—and the week of Mardi Gras.”

“Was the cancellation I benefitted from due to the cyanide situation?”

Ethan hesitated as if he were caught off guard. “It was. The couple with the reservation got caught up in the media hype and was afraid to come to town. Truthfully, there’s nothing to fear here at Langley Manor. We’ve decided to get our groceries and our bottled water in Baton Rouge until the crisis is over.”

“That’s good.”

“Keep in mind, though, the source of the problem seems to be Marcotte’s Market, and it’s been closed.”

“I’ll eat a big breakfast here. That usually holds me all day.”

Ethan looked over the top of his glasses. “Vanessa makes the best crepes in the known world—except maybe for Zoe B’s. The chef there taught her how. But we also serve scrambled eggs. Grits. Bacon, sausage, and boudin. Biscuits and beignets. Lots of fresh fruit. Vanessa even makes her own granola. She puts out quite a spread. Would you like me to show you the house, or would you like to go to your room now?”

“If you don’t mind, I’d just as soon get settled in my room and tour the house and grounds some other time.”

“That’s fine. You’re in room four upstairs.” Ethan picked up Sax’s suitcase and started up the white staircase.

Sax followed Ethan halfway down the hallway to a door with a brass numeral four on it.

Ethan opened the door wide, went inside, flipped the light switch, and set the suitcase on the floor. “Here you go.”

Sax moved his gaze across the pale blue walls and white crown moldings and stopped on a walnut poster bed made up with a blue, yellow, and white comforter.

“I don’t know anything about antiques,” Sax admitted, “but I can appreciate the historic look of the room. Very inviting. This’ll be great.”

“I’m glad you like it. Too bad you won’t need that fireplace.” Ethan smiled. “The white marble does add to the ambiance, though.”

Sax noticed a small plate of chocolate chip cookies on the secretary. “Those look good.”

“Vanessa makes them from scratch. If you want something else to munch on, there are chips, pretzels, cheese and crackers, and other snacks in the dining room until ten. And cold drinks in the mini-fridge in the alcove. Just go back down the stairs, and the dining room is the first room on the right. The alcove is adjacent.”

“Thanks.”

“As you can see”—Ethan nodded toward the secretary—“there’s a variety of books to read. And also a brochure there on the desk, if you want to know more about the history of the house and the furnishings.”

“I heard this house was used as a station on the Underground Railroad.”

Ethan nodded. “Noah Washington, who’s the caretaker and like a part of our family, is a descendant of the slave Naomi, who helped my ancestors move the runaway slaves up north. Vanessa and I are very excited to have Noah partner with us to share what happened here. If you like, we’ll even take you through the secret tunnels used by the slaves.”

Sax put his hand on Ethan’s shoulder and shook his hand. “Thanks. We’ll see how I feel tomorrow. Tonight I just want to crash. It’s been a long day.”

“Are you here on business or pleasure?”

“I’m going to try to get in both,” Sax said. “We’ll see how it goes. But while I’m here, I plan to kick back and enjoy some alone time.”

“You came to the right place. Breakfast is served in the dining room downstairs between eight and ten. Checkout is at eleven. Vanessa said you’ll be staying a few nights with us.”

“That’s right. I’m not sure yet just how long. Is that all right?”

“Normally we’re booked. But with this cyanide scare, we can be flexible. We
would
appreciate your letting us know before seven p.m. the night before you plan to check out.”

“I will.”

“Housekeeping comes every morning at eleven. Be sure to use your do-not-disturb sign if you plan to sleep in. Hope you have a restful night,” Ethan said. “Call us if you need anything.”

“Thanks. I will.”

Ethan left and closed the door behind him.

Sax locked it out of habit, then admired the room. Cozy. He walked over to the poster bed, climbed the walnut step stool, and flopped onto the bed. He bounced to see how much support the mattress offered. Just right. Regardless of what Adele decided, his time here at Langley Manor should be pleasant—perhaps a reprieve from the turmoil.

Adele said that Shelby was happy. Had Shelby found the key to peace? How could he not be glad for her? But unless she agreed to let him into her life and work things out, he would never know peace.

Jude strolled with his wife down
rue Madeline,
enjoying a bag of caramel corn and an unexpected breeze that cooled the sultry summer evening to almost pleasant.

“I’m sorry this isn’t exactly a date,” Jude said.

Colette Prejean shot a playful glance his way. “Actually I’m happy to help. Everyone’s scared to death. It’s good that we’re out here together, where people can see us.”

“You enjoying that buttered pecan caramel corn?”

“Are you kidding?”

“You’re not afraid it’s poison?”

“If it is, at least I’ll die happy.” Colette smiled. “I really shouldn’t joke about it. I’m as scared as the next person.”

“I know.” Jude looked around at the smaller-than-usual crowd. “I don’t see that many locals out here tonight. But I’m glad to see that a respectable number of tourists decided not to leave. I can’t imagine the economic impact the cyanide poisonings will have if the killer isn’t found soon.”

“Sheriff Prejean!”

Jude spun around and saw a reporter and a cameraman coming in his direction. The camera was rolling.

“What can I do for you?” Jude recognized the late-night anchor from Channel Five News: Louis Dupont.

“Sheriff, can you tell us if there’ve been any new developments in the cyanide poisonings?”

Jude pasted on the most positive look he could muster. “Lou, I briefed the press just two hours ago. If there were further developments, I would have come back to you with the information. We
want
the public fully informed so we can all be vigilant.”

“I see you’ve been to Kernal Poppy’s,” Lou said. “You’re not afraid of cyanide poisoning?”

“I take this threat very seriously. But it would be a mistake to assume that nothing is safe. As you can see, my wife and I are enjoying an evening stroll and a bag of caramel corn, just like we would any other time. With everyone being vigilant, especially establishments that serve food of any kind, my hope is that the worst is behind us.”

“Are you close to making an arrest?” Lou inched closer.

“I’m not going to comment on that. But scores of deputies and police officers are working in shifts around the clock to solve this case—as I will be again in the morning.”

Louis pushed the mike in front of Jude’s lips. “Can you at least tell us where you had dinner?”

Jude smiled. “Sure. Colette and I had a delicious meal at Zoe B’s Cajun Eatery. If you haven’t tried it, you really should. Or dozens of other great eating places in town.”

Colette squeezed his arm in approval of the free advertising he had just given Zoe and Pierce.

“So you don’t think people should avoid eating out?” Lou said.

“I think people should use good sense. Avoid eating foods that have been sitting out where everyone has access. Most restaurants prepare entrees from food delivered by wholesale food suppliers based in other cities. As for bottled water, stay away from Gaudry brand—which has been recalled—and do what we suggested in our briefing: inspect bottles and packaging for tampering. Stay calm, and let my people do their job. We’ll get whoever’s behind this.”

“Sheriff, do you think this is the work of terrorists?”

“I don’t,” he said, wishing he were as certain as he sounded. “No one has claimed responsibility, which we believe would have happened by now had this been an organized act of terrorism. I can’t comment further during an open investigation, other than to say law enforcement isn’t going to stop until we find whoever’s behind it.” Jude looked Lou squarely in the eyes. “Meanwhile, let’s not stop living. My wife and I are going on with our lives, and we encourage everyone to do the same.” Jude held up his palm, knowing this clip would end up on the eleven o’clock news. He’d said enough. “That’s it for now.”

Jude took Colette’s arm and walked away from the camera, glad that Lou and his camera crew didn’t follow.

“You think you eased his mind?” Colette said.

“I doubt it. I gave it my best shot.”

Emily Jessup climbed the deck steps at the back of Langley Manor, smiling at a family of raccoons feasting on the Critter Crunch that Vanessa had left out for them.

She unlocked the back door and froze when she saw Vanessa standing there, her arms crossed, her eyebrows furrowed.

“It’s late,” Vanessa said. “Why didn’t you call me? Or return my messages? I’ve been worried.”

“You’re such a mother hen.” Emily set her purse on the kitchen counter. “My cell battery died. But I told you where I was. I didn’t call because I thought you were asleep. I was reluctant to leave Chance by himself. I mean, he just lost both parents. The guy’s in shock.”

“I can only imagine.”

“I wanted to stay overnight and sleep on the couch. But I knew how it might look. So I just stayed with Chance until I felt sure he was going to crash. Okay?”

The tautness left Vanessa’s face. “I keep forgetting you’re nineteen. To me, you’re still my baby sister.”

“I like being your younger sister,” Emily said, admiring Vanessa’s long, dark hair and dainty features, wishing she looked more like her. “But I’m not a baby. For heaven’s sake, I’m going to be delivering them one of these days.”

“I told Mom and Dad I would watch out for you.”

“You are.”

Vanessa picked up a lock of Emily’s hair and gave it a gentle tug. “Next time,
call
me. I don’t care if you wake me up.”

“You even sounded like Mom just then.” Emily grinned. “Eerie.”

“How about some chocolate chippers?” Vanessa took a Tupperware container out of the cupboard and set it on the table. “So what’s your assessment of Chance? Is he okay to be by himself?”

Emily pulled out a chair and sat across from her sister. “I think so. He and his dad weren’t close, and I think he’s probably got unresolved issues that will catch up with him eventually. But right now, it’s his mother’s death that’s hurting him most. They were close.”

Vanessa was quiet for a moment, twisting a lock of hair, seemingly lost in thought. “Emily, you do know that you’re not responsible for this guy, right? You’ve known him all of three weeks.”

“But he’s my friend. I feel somewhat responsible to be there for him during this crisis.”

“I can tell you like him.”

“I do.” Emily took a bite of cookie. “He’s geeky and gorgeous at the same time. I told you he’s a med student at Harvard, didn’t I—full scholarship?”