False Pretenses (17 page)

“You’re actually threatening to kill me if I can’t get the money?”

“It’s not a threat. It’s a promise.”

He shoved her to the ground, and she noticed a handgun tucked into his waistband. In the next second he disappeared into the woods.

Zoe got up off the soggy ground, her shoes and clothes damp and soiled, blood trickling down her cheek. She was vaguely aware of mosquito bites that itched and burned. How was she going to explain her appearance to Pierce? How was she going to tell him that she had lied to him from the beginning? And because of her deception, everything they valued was in jeopardy—maybe even their lives?

She brushed her hands together and trudged back to Landry Trail and started walking back to the starting point. What if she ran into someone she knew? What would she say? That she fell on the trail? Cut her face on a rock? She probably looked as though she’d been attacked.

Terror seized her. How was she going to get a hundred thousand dollars? What if that didn’t satisfy him? Or what if he planned to kill her anyway? She had seen his face. Even if he was a master of disguises, she had heard his voice. Would he really let her walk away?

Losing her life seemed less frightening than losing Pierce. Would he even speak to her again when he found out she’d deceived him? And that the only reason she was telling him anything was because she was forced?

Zoe started to cry.
God, what have I done? I’ve ruined my life. I’ve wrecked my marriage. All I ever wanted was a normal life. I never meant for any of this to happen. I’m so tired of living a lie. But what kind of life will I have if I tell the truth?

Maybe the best thing she could do was disappear. But what if Shapiro was watching her? What if he had a way to track where she was? If she tried to run, would he come after her and kill her—especially since he was convinced she had run once before?

Did she dare go to the authorities despite his threat to kill her if she did? Was she ready to face Pierce and confess the whole ugly truth and accept the consequences, no matter how painful? The Catholic Church wouldn’t sanction a divorce, but didn’t Pierce have grounds for an annulment? Was there anything to stop him from walking away and leaving her to fix this herself?

God, I can’t fix this. I need help. I don’t want to lie anymore. But if I tell Pierce the truth, I’m going to lose him. Yet if I don’t, I’ll never get the money and Shapiro will kill me. Show me what to do.

CHAPTER 17

Zoe slipped in the back door of the building and ran up the steps to her apartment. Pierce was in charge of the kitchen tonight and wouldn’t come upstairs until after eleven.

She started to put the key in the lock when a voice startled her and she dropped the key on the floor.

“Zoe! There you are.” Vanessa stepped out of her apartment. “Ethan and a colleague went to a seminar in New Orleans today and won’t be back until late, and I know Pierce is cooking tonight. I wondered if later you might want to go out with Carter and me and get ice cream. What happened? You’ve got mud all over you.”

Zoe bent down and picked up the key without looking at Vanessa.

“Zoe, you’re bleeding. Are you all right?”

“I lost my footing on a walking trail and fell. I just need to get cleaned up. My ego hurts worse than the rest of me.” She turned the key, her hand shaking, and pushed open the door. “I’ll take a rain check on the ice cream. It’s been a hectic day.”

“You sure you’re all right?”

“I’m fine. Just ready for some down time.”
Leave me alone, Vanessa.

“If you change your mind, we’ll probably go out around seven and walk over to Scoops. They have the best peanut-butter cookie dough ice cream on the planet.”

“Thanks. But I’m in for the night.”

Zoe went inside and quickly closed the door. Vanessa was only trying to be a friend. Did she have to be so abrupt? She looked at her reflection in the entry-hall mirror and did a double take. Her face was pale and streaked with blood and sweat, her tank top smeared with blood where Shapiro had wiped his finger. No wonder Vanessa was concerned.

She started to walk toward the bathroom when she heard a knock on the door.
Go away, Vanessa.
She tiptoed to the door and looked through the peephole.

Vanessa knocked again. Shouldn’t she answer the door, rather than taking a chance she might raise suspicion?

Zoe sighed. She pasted on a smile and opened the door. “I was just about to take a shower. Can I call you later?”

“I’m concerned about you. You look upset.”

“You’d be upset too, if you tripped on a rock and fell on your face.”

“Is that all? Because I’m really getting some funny vibes.”

Vanessa’s bluntness marched right through her defenses, and Zoe felt her face turn hot. “I’m fine. I just need to clean up.”

“Did someone hurt you?” Vanessa gently gripped her wrist and lowered her voice to a whisper. “Were you attacked? Look at you. Your clothes are muddy and torn. You’re bleeding. You’re visibly shaken.”

“Mind your own business.” Zoe pulled her wrist free. “I told you, I fell.”

“I’m thinking maybe you had a little help falling.”

“Don’t make this into something it’s not, Vanessa. I’m fine. I’m just a major klutz. It’s embarrassing.”

Vanessa’s gaze seemed to probe her conscience. “I can’t just walk away, Zoe. Something’s terribly wrong. Why don’t I go get Pierce?”

“No! He’s the last person I want to talk to right now.”
Why did I tell her that?

“Then talk to me. I’m a good listener, and you can trust me. But don’t expect me to walk away and pretend I believe you’re fine.”

Zoe’s heart beat so fast she was sure they could hear it downstairs in the dining room. “It’s not something I can talk about in front of Carter.”

“He won’t hear us. He fell asleep. I’ll probably have to wake him to go out for ice cream. Come over to my apartment and tell me what happened. Let me clean up that cut on your face.”

Almost robotically, Zoe shut the door and followed Vanessa next door and into the Langleys’ living room, where the aroma of fresh-baked cookies was pleasantly pervasive. She considered what she was about to do. Once she told Vanessa what had happened, she could never take it back. Was she ready to do that? Shouldn’t she take time to think first? Then again, if she thought too hard about it, would she have the courage to tell anyone?

Vanessa took her by the arm and seated her on a wood chair, then looked carefully at the cut on her cheek. “Good, it doesn’t look deep. I’ll be right back.”

Zoe sat in the quiet, studying the framed photos that graced the Langleys’ bookshelves. Such happy faces. Did Vanessa have any idea how blessed she was to come from a normal family? The only pictures Zoe had of her parents and brother were in a sealed envelope at the bottom of a shoebox, her only memory of them locked away in the basement of her mind, along with the disgusting odor of whiskey and the sounds of yelling and slapping and crying—and of unwanted footsteps creeping in the darkness toward her bed.

Vanessa came back in the living room. “Why don’t we do this in the kitchen? It’ll be easier.”

“All right.” Zoe rose to her feet and followed Vanessa into the kitchen.

She stood at the sink and closed her eyes, trying not to think about how much it was going to sting.

“I’m going to pour some hydrogen peroxide into the cut,” Vanessa said, “and then dab around it with clean gauze. It’s going to hurt like nuts for a minute, but if I can get it cleaned out, I doubt you’ll have to worry about infection. Okay?”

Zoe nodded, her eyes clamped shut. A few seconds later, she felt the cold peroxide saturate her cheek and a stinging so intense it made her eyes water. She sucked in a breath.

Vanessa held a towel under her chin and let the peroxide run down her face. “Exhale, Zoe. The worst is over. I’m going to do it again, but it won’t sting nearly as much this time. Ready?”

“Go ahead.”

Vanessa repeated the process and waited half a minute, then dabbed around the cut with clean gauze and handed Zoe the towel. “Wipe your chin. But don’t touch the cut.”

“Thanks.” Zoe opened her eyes. “How bad is it?”

“Really not bad. I’m putting a little antibacterial ointment on it now … and a Band-Aid to keep the germs out. There. That should do it. All right, let’s sit at the table. Tell me what happened.”

“I don’t even know where to begin.”

“Try the beginning.”

“We don’t have that much time.”

“Then give me the short version, Zoe. Come on, five minutes ago, you were ready to talk. Don’t shut down now.”

“I’m not sure I can do this. Really. This is a bad idea.”

“No, what’s a bad idea is your trying to deal with whatever happened all by yourself. Were you attacked? Is that why you don’t want to tell Pierce? Talk to me. I’m listening. And if I don’t wake Carter up, he’ll sleep till morning. Take your time.”

Zoe thought back to the day she told Mrs. Woodmore the truth. Hadn’t that worked out? If she didn’t talk to Vanessa, would Vanessa go to Pierce? Or Ethan? Would either of them go to the police? Was it too late to handle it herself? But did she dare involve Vanessa? Would it put her at risk?

“I honestly don’t think you want to get pulled into this. It could be dangerous.”

“I’m
already
into it. Just talk to me.”

Zoe sighed. “I don’t know where to begin, Vanessa. So I’m just going to give you the bottom line first: I’ve been living a lie for ten years. And it’s finally caught up with me.”

Pierce turned the kitchen over to Dempsey and walked out to the dining room at Zoe B’s, instantly spotting Hebert, Father Sam, and Tex sitting at the table in front of the window.

“Hey, guys,” he said. “How’s it going?”

Hebert shook his head. “Emile got da results of d’autopsy. Remy’s skull was crushed on one side wid sometin’ metal, possibly a tire iron. Dey say he died right off, but who can know dat fuh shore? Oh, dey say dey can, but Emile doesn’t believe it. Dat’s eatin’ him up.”

“I’m sure it is,” Pierce said. “Has he decided when he’s having the funeral?”

Father Sam cleared his throat. “Tuesday afternoon at one. Emile asked
me
to say the memorial Mass, and Monsignor Robidoux at Saint Catherine’s has graciously agreed to step aside and let me officiate for an old friend. It’ll be in the obits tomorrow. Remy’s being cremated, and there won’t be a burial. Emile’s going to spread his ashes along the Roux River—privately, when he’s ready and after the media’s left him alone.”

No one said anything for half a minute.

Finally Tex said, “Hope y’all don’t mind if I change the subject before Pierce has to get back to the kitchen. I just wanted to say how tasty the seafood gumbo was tonight. I’ve always enjoyed it, but there was just somethin’ extra good tonight.”

Pierce smiled. “I’m glad you noticed, Tex. I’ve been experimenting in preparation for the Gumbo Classic.”

“Well, that was as good as it gets.” Tex put his hands on his middle. “I ordered the bottomless bowl and had to make myself quit eatin’ after the third refill. Mighty good.”

Pierce patted Tex on the back. “Glad you approve. How was everything else?”

“Da red beans and rice hit da spot.” Hebert gave him a thumbs up. “Corn bread was my weakness tonight. I can never get enough o’dat.”

“I had the crawfish étoufée,” Father Sam said. “My compliments to the chef.”

“And the chef thanks you. Okay, fellas. I’d better get back before Dempsey thinks I’ve abandoned ship.”

“What’s Zoe doin’ tonight?” Tex sat back, his thumbs hooked on his suspenders.

“I’m not sure. I noticed she left a little early, but she hasn’t come down for dinner. I think she enjoys the evenings I work late.” Pierce smiled. “Gives her a chance to do whatever she wants.”

Zoe stared at her hands folded on Vanessa’s kitchen table. Had she ever felt more vulnerable than she did at this moment?

“So now you know everything,” she said. “My marriage was founded on false pretenses. And so was Zoe B’s. I can’t imagine what you must think.”

“What
I
think,” Vanessa said, “is that you need a friend, not a judge. You can’t change the past. What matters now is what you decide to base the future on.”

“Pierce won’t see it that way.”

“Maybe not at first. He’ll be disappointed.”

“More like devastated.”

“But he loves you, Zoe. It’s so obvious that he does. Surely he’ll have some compassion for the abuse you suffered and at least some understanding of
why
you stole the ring. I certainly do.”

“Even if he does, it won’t matter. He’ll never forgive me for lying to him all these years. Or for letting him believe I’m Cajun.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes I do. Nothing is more important to him than his Cajun heritage. That’s part of what he thought we shared. I’m going to lose him over this.”

“I hate to say it, but better Pierce than your life.”

“Pierce
is
my life.…” Zoe let out a sob and then stifled it.

Vanessa put her hand on Zoe’s. “I’m so sorry. I can only imagine how painful this is. And I wish you had time to figure it all out before you take the next step, but you don’t. You have to tell Pierce everything you told me about your past and about your meeting with Shapiro. And then you’ve got to go to the sheriff with it, whether Pierce supports you or not.”

“But Shapiro promised he’d kill me if I do that.”

Vanessa held her gaze. “Zoe … trust me, Shapiro’s planning to kill you as soon as he gets his money. The only leverage you have is he wants his hundred thousand.”