Relentless Pursuit: A Novel (Secrets of Roux River Bayou) (9 page)

Chapter 9

Emily came in the service door at Zoe B’s, timed in, then hurried out to the dining room, concerned that she hadn’t heard from Chance.

Zoe held her hand up and rushed over to her.

“Thanks for dropping everything and coming in.” Zoe sounded out of breath. “Can you believe this crowd? I wonder if other restaurants are busy like this or if Jude only convinced them that Zoe B’s was safe.”

Emily smiled. “I hope they’re all this busy. And I hope Vanessa and Ethan don’t keep getting cancellations. They really took a hit the last time a killer was on the loose.”

“Don’t remind me.” Zoe swatted at a pesky fly that buzzed around her face. “Let’s hope this is short-lived and Jude gets to the bottom of it quickly.”

“Maybe he already knows who did it,” Emily said. “I doubt he would volunteer anything to the media until they made an arrest. I know my mother wouldn’t.”

“Oh that’s right.” Zoe arched her eyebrows. “You and Vanessa grew up around it, so I guess you’re pretty familiar with how the authorities do things.”

“Kind of. Each case is different, and cops try to use the media to their advantage. They leak information they want the public to know and withhold information the public doesn’t need to know.”

“So you’re saying Jude may have a suspect and not release that information?”

Emily nodded. “Sure. He’ll tell the media if and when he thinks it’s in the public’s best interest to know. But he’s not going to jeopardize the investigation. Timing is important.”

“Vanessa told me you’ve seen a lot in your young life.”

“When I was nine, a gang member held a neighbor couple and me at gunpoint, hoping he could cut a deal. I really thought he was going to kill us.” Emily blinked away the memory. “And my mom was stalked by a man she put in prison. He tried to grab Vanessa, but she got away. The guy almost killed my mom.” Emily rubbed her arms. “It still gives me chills.”

“Vanessa, too.”

“At least we knew who the enemy was. This is almost scarier.”

“I hear you,” Zoe said. “This killer could be one person or an organized group of people who want to kill as many of us as they can to draw attention to their cause. I’m just so sorry Chance’s parents had to be among the victims. How’s he doing?”

Emily wrinkled her nose. “Not good. I was with him when the doctor told him his parents were dead. At first he was stunned, but reality started to sink in as the day went on. I stayed with him until he finally crashed last night, but he thinks I’m coming over this morning. If it’s okay with you, I’d like to call him as soon as the dining room clears out, and let him know my schedule has changed.”

“I’ll cover for you,” Zoe said. “Go ahead and call him.”

“Really?” Emily hated that she sounded so eager. “Thanks. I won’t stay on long. I just want to find out what his plans are and how I can help.”

Emily hurried out into the alcove and pushed her speed dial for Chance’s cell phone.

He picked up on the second ring. “Hey.”

“Hey, yourself,” Emily said. “Why didn’t you respond to my voice or text messages? I was worried.”

“Sorry. You said you got called in to work, and I didn’t figure you’d be checking your messages. Why’d you get called in? I thought business was slow.”

“The sheriff mentioned Zoe B’s on the news last night, and this place has been packed out since it opened. You wouldn’t believe it.”

“When do you get off?” Chance said.

“The second shift comes in at three. I can be available after that. Would you like me to make more phone calls?”

“Thanks, but I made them already,” Chance said. “Both sides of my family are equally devastated by this, and several relatives offered to stay with me. I graciously explained I need to be alone, but my aunt Reba won’t take no for an answer.”

“Maybe you should let her stay there. You have plenty of room.”

“It won’t be enough. She treats me like I’m still in grade school.” Chance sighed. “Seriously, Emily, you’re the only person I want to be around right now.”

“I want to be there for you as much as I can. But I also have an obligation at Zoe B’s.” Emily glanced at her watch. “I should be to your house by three fifteen. Will you be okay until then?”

“I’m fine. I’m just staring at the wall, getting up the nerve to go into my parents’ bedroom. The mortician asked me to pick out clothes …” Chance’s voice failed.

“Let me help you with that. Just wait for me, okay?”

“All right.”

“Did your dad have a dark suit?”

“Yes. He had a nice one he wore to weddings and funerals. Pretty ironic he’ll be wearing it to his own.”

“Your mother had dresses?”

“A closet full,” Chance said. “Maybe you can help me figure out what’s appropriate. I always loved her in light blue.” There was a long moment of dead air. Finally Chance said, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I just want to go somewhere and scream. I’m so angry that someone stole her from me.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you. It’s totally understandable that you’re angry. Who wouldn’t be? There’s no right or wrong way to feel. It’s better to be honest.”

Chance sighed into the receiver. “The honest truth is, having my aunt staying here will make things unbearable. Especially since the funeral isn’t until Wednesday afternoon.”

“When is she planning to come?”

“Tomorrow. She’s driving down from Shreveport.”

Emily switched the phone to her other ear. “Can you be honest with her about that? Just tell her you handle grief better with some down time to be alone with your thoughts?”

“I tried. It went over her head. I wouldn’t hurt her feelings for the world, but I don’t have the strength to confront her on this. I feel like I’m going to lose it any second—” Chance seemed to choke on his words.

Emily took a moment and assessed the situation. “Chance, would it take the pressure off if
I
called your aunt? Be honest with me. Maybe I’m being too bold here. But I really think I can get the point across without hurting her feelings.”

“You would do that?”

“Sure. If you think it would help.”

“It would. Thanks. I just can’t deal with anything else.”

Emily glanced into the dining room and saw Zoe taking someone’s order. “Chance, I’m really sorry, but I really have to go. Zoe’s in there taking orders.”

“Go. I’ll see you when I see you.”

“Just wait on the difficult things and let me help you. Promise?”

“I promise.”

Sax opened the front door at Langley Manor and went inside, instantly spotting Vanessa watering the plants in the parlor, her long dark hair enhanced by the pale yellow walls.

“There you are.” She looked over at him with eyes the color of the summer sky and long, thick lashes perfect enough for a Cover Girl ad. What a knockout. She reminded him of his first wife. For a split second he remembered what it had felt like to be in love.

“Have you been looking for me?” Sax asked.

“I have. I told a couple from Iowa that I would take them on a tour this afternoon and thought maybe you’d like to join us. I’m going to take them through the tunnels used by the slaves when the manor house was a station on the Underground Railroad. Interested?”

“It’s nice of you to offer,” Sax said, “but I’m really enjoying the opportunity to be alone with my thoughts. Nothing personal.”

“But you’re enjoying your stay?”

“Well, let’s see … I love the room, the chocolate chip cookies, the breakfast, the grounds, the flower garden, and the solitude. So yes, I’m enjoying it very much.”

Vanessa smiled with her eyes. “Good. That’s what counts.”

“Have there been any more cyanide poisonings?” he said.

“No, thank the Lord. But no one has been arrested, and that’s almost more unsettling. We’re all just waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

“I don’t think we have anything to fear out here,” Sax said.

“Me either. But two people I know have already lost someone they care about. It’s scary. I’m trying not to dwell on it.” Vanessa moved over to another plant and began watering it. “If you change your mind and want to go on the tour with us, we’ll be meeting here in the parlor at two o’clock.”

Sax felt the corners of his mouth twitch, despite his mood. Vanessa Langley was a charming young woman. “Fair enough. I’m going to go read for a while, and maybe take a nap. I’m expecting a phone call.”

Sax climbed the stately white staircase, the melded smells of old wood, warm bread, and eucalyptus wafting under his nose. He walked down the hall to room four, unlocked the door, and pushed it open wide, glad to see his bed made up and fresh towels on the rack in the bathroom. At least the maid wouldn’t interrupt him.

He saw a fresh plate of chocolate chip cookies on the secretary. That should tide him over so he wouldn’t need lunch.

Dinner was another matter. Adele had suggested Zoe B’s Cajun Eatery and gave him Zoe and Pierce Broussard’s business card. It was probably safe to eat there—not that he was worried about dying of cyanide poisoning. At this point, it would be an easy out.

He went over to the window and looked down at the undulating green sea of sugarcane separating the Langley property from the adjacent plantation. He wondered who else might have stood at that same window a hundred and fifty years before and seen essentially the same thing. How had Langley Manor survived the Civil War? According to the brochure, it wasn’t even damaged.

Sax sighed. Why was he spending what little energy he had, asking himself questions that no one had answers to? He went over and lay on the bed, his hands clasped behind his head. Adele Woodmore was taking her sweet time getting back to him. He had already psyched himself up for a disappointing next encounter—but the waiting was torture.

Emily parked in the alley behind Chance Durand’s house, relieved not to see any media—or yellow crime-scene tape. The authorities must have finished their on-site investigation.

She went up on the back stoop and stood at the kitchen door, aware that she was about to walk into the room where Chance’s parents had died. She paused for a moment, and, before she could knock, the back door opened. Chance stood in the doorway, dressed in denim cutoffs and a red T-shirt. He hadn’t shaved, but the rugged look was becoming.

He took her hand and pulled her inside, then put his arms around her and held tightly for a moment.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he said. “I feel so detached from everything. I’ve never felt like this before.”

“I felt that way when my grandparents were killed in a head-on collision.” Emily nuzzled closer. “Grief makes you feel a gamut of emotions. Sometimes talking about it helps. Sometimes it doesn’t. I’m here either way.”

“Thanks. That means a lot.”

Emily stepped away from his arms and put her purse on the kitchen table. “Since your aunt’s planning to drive here tomorrow, I should call her so she can make arrangements to stay somewhere else. What’s her name?”

“Reba Littleton.”

“Would staying in a motor inn or B and B pose a financial burden?”

“She’s loaded, Emily. Money’s not the issue. She just likes to feel in control.”

Chance opened an address book to the page with Reba’s information and handed it to Emily.

“Are you sure it’s such a bad idea for your aunt Reba to take charge? You’re not thinking as clearly as you’d like. It might be helpful.”

“Not unless she could take charge without treating me like I’m ten. But she can’t. Trust me, having her stay here would be downright oppressive.”

“Okay. Okay.” Emily gently squeezed his hand. “I’ll run interference. I’d rather she be mad at me than you.” Emily sat at the table and keyed in Reba’s phone number, her heart pounding, and put it on speaker.

“Hello.” The woman’s tone was curt. “Whatever you’re selling, I’m not interested.”

“I’m not selling anything, ma’am. I’m trying to reach Reba Littleton.”

“Speaking.”

“Ms. Littleton, my name’s Emily Jessup. I’m a close friend of your nephew Chance. Let me say how sorry I am about your sister and brother-in-law. It was a terrible tragedy. I understand you plan to drive to Les Barbes tomorrow and stay at Chance’s house.”

“My
sister’s
house. That’s right.”

“I’m sure you have Chance’s best interests at heart, but the truth is he really prefers to be at the house by himself, where he can let his feelings out and deal with his tragic loss. I’m sure you can understand that.”

“I understand no such thing. That boy doesn’t know what he needs right now.”

“He’s quite sure that he prefers solitude.”

“My sister would want me there.”

“It’s really Chance’s decision, though, isn’t it?”

“That boy’s in no condition to decide anything.”

Emily glanced over at Chance. “With all due respect, ma’am, he’s a twenty-three-year-old genius who has worked his way to Harvard Medical School on a full scholarship and is studying to be a neurosurgeon. He’s never been confused about what he wants.”