False Pretenses (21 page)

Zoe opened her eyes, aware that Pierce instantly let go of her hand. She looked over at Ethan and Vanessa, more curious than embarrassed. She had never prayed like that before—not holding hands, and certainly not as if she actually expected God to act.

“All right,” Ethan said. “To borrow a now-famous phrase from a brave American: ‘Let’s roll.’”

CHAPTER 22

Pierce went downstairs to the kitchen at Zoe B’s, where Dempsey Tanner was focused on finishing up the last of the Sunday brunch orders.

“What are
you
doing here?” Dempsey said. “I thought you and Zoe were dealing with a family emergency.”

“We are. I just wanted to come tell you how much I appreciate your taking my shift. It’s no easy task taking on the Sunday brunch crowd. I owe you one.”

“Or
two
.” Dempsey flashed a crooked smile. “You know I’m glad to help. What’s the plan?”

“I’ve arranged for Benson Surette to cover my shift in the morning.”

“
Savannah’s
husband?” Dempsey glanced up, his hands still arranging food on the plates. “He hasn’t worked here in over a year. Are you confident he can handle the kitchen?”

“I don’t really have a choice. Needless to say, I’m more comfortable with you back here, but I can’t expect you to work a double shift today
and
tomorrow.”

“How long did you say you’ll be out?”

“I didn’t.” Pierce popped a mushroom into his mouth in an effort to look natural. “We’ll get back as soon as we can. And, Dempsey”—he waited until Dempsey paused and caught his gaze—“I don’t want you discussing this with anyone. If someone asks where we are, just say we’re out on personal business.”

“All right, boss. Is there anything else I can do?”

“Not really. Zoe asked Savannah to take charge out front. I’m sure you’ll do fine.” Pierce glanced at his watch. “I’ve got to get going.”

“Is there a number where you can be reached?”

Pierce shook his head. “No. But I’ll check in from time to time. Hopefully we won’t be gone long. If you have questions or concerns, direct them to Savannah.”

He turned and hurried out of the kitchen, through the dining room, and out into the alcove. He waited a full minute to be sure he wasn’t followed, then went out the back entrance and walked briskly toward the rendezvous point.

Ethan’s simple solution suddenly seemed absurd, but did he have a better idea? The most important thing to consider was safety. Until they were inaccessible to Shapiro, talking to the sheriff wasn’t a viable option.

Pierce crossed First Street, wondering how Jude would respond when he found out his longtime friend Zoe Benoit Broussard was a fraud.

Zoe waited until two thirty, then slipped out the back door of Zoe B’s and jogged over to First Street, then turned north on
rue Evangeline,
looking over her shoulder every so often. Had she even considered how vulnerable she would feel without her cell phone? Ethan’s plan was so simple that, had the circumstances not been life threatening, it might have seemed almost comical.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed that a blue car to her left had slowed to a crawl. Her heart nearly pounded out of her chest. Finally she got up the courage to look over at the driver, a man—not Shapiro—who seemed to be looking for an address. She remembered Savannah telling her that Shapiro had come in to Zoe B’s several times with a male client. Zoe had never seen him. Would she even know if this supposed client were following her? Didn’t she have to be sure before she met up with the others at the rendezvous point—or risk ruining everything?

Zoe began to run and then run faster and faster, glad when she looked back and saw him make a U-turn. Was he following her and trying to make it look as though he wasn’t?

Shapiro’s words came rushing back.
Did I mention I’m really good at disguises? Angus Shapiro isn’t my real name either. So going to the cops won’t get me caught. It’ll just get you killed.

She made a sudden turn and cut through the side yard of a light-blue two-story house that backed up to a red brick house on the next block. She crossed Vaughn Street and cut through two more yards until she came out on the sidewalk along Gabel.

The digital sign at the bank flashed the time: 2:56. She still had four minutes. The others might not even be there yet. She turned into the narrow alley between Belle’s Beauty Shop and Renee’s Alterations, her hands on her knees, and tried to catch her breath.

Was this attempt to keep Shapiro from knowing their whereabouts going to work—or was it just plain silly? Then again, without the ability to track them electronically, how would he have a clue how to find them?

Vanessa pulled into Rouses Market and looked in the rearview mirror for any sign of another car entering the lot right behind her but saw only a Ford pickup pulling out. She drove to the back row and parked under the shade trees, then locked the car and went inside the store. She strolled up and down the produce section, then slipped through the swinging doors and into the warehouse, where the customer restrooms were. She leaned on the wall next to the ladies’ room and pretended to be waiting for someone to come out.

Three young men were clowning around as they loaded boxes of produce onto plastic carts. She smiled at them and glanced at her watch.

Hurry up
, she thought.
Or I’m going to be late.

When the workers walked away from the loading dock, she quietly made her way over to the back exit, pushed open the steel door, and skipped down the steps. She ran down the alley and out to the sidewalk, then headed toward the rendezvous point.

A police car sped past her, lights flashing. Vanessa thought about her mother and wondered how disappointed she would be when this was all over and she realized that Vanessa and Ethan had not called her and asked for advice. Vanessa already knew her mother would insist they go to the authorities rather than attempt to outsmart a dangerous criminal. But conventional protocol didn’t apply here, and they had to act swiftly.

Vanessa picked up her pace as if that would somehow erase her doubts that this was the wisest decision. Wasn’t it a moot point anyway? She had left her cell phone locked in the glove box as Ethan had instructed her. Two minutes from now, everything would be set in motion.

Zoe stood behind a huge live oak, one of many that shaded the grounds of Grace Creek Bible Church. She spotted the blue and white van with the church logo on it. She glanced at her watch, her heart thumping so hard that her arm shook. It was three o’clock. She didn’t see Ethan behind the wheel of the van—or any sign of the other two. Had something gone wrong? Had she misunderstood what she was supposed to do?

“Zoe … over here.”

She jumped, her hand over her heart, and turned toward the familiar voice. Pierce waved at her from behind a tree about twenty yards away.

“Have you seen Vanessa or Ethan?” he said.

Zoe ran over to him. “Not yet. I just got here. Isn’t that the van over there?”

“I think so. I wonder what’s keeping them.” He looked around nervously. “Did you have any problems?”

“Not really. Some guy in a blue car pulled up next to me and seemed to be looking for an address. I didn’t recognize him, but I ditched him immediately. I cut through some yards and ran over a couple blocks. I’m sure he didn’t follow me. I’m probably being paranoid anyway.”

“With good reason.”

She looked into his eyes and saw fear—and pain. “Pierce, I—”

He put his hand to her lips. “There’s nothing left to say. Let’s just do what we have to do to keep from getting our throats slit.”

Nothing left to say? Was he unwilling to let her explain herself? Did he think she had no remorse?

The sound of feet pounding the ground caught Zoe’s attention, and she spun around just as Vanessa came to a stop.

“Sorry I’m … a little … late,” Vanessa said, sounding out of breath.

“Actually it’s right at three.” Pierce glanced over at the church van. “I wonder what’s keeping Ethan?”

Vanessa started to reach into her pocket and then stopped. “I’m not used to not having my cell phone. I’m sure he’ll be here any minute. Did either of you see anyone suspicious?”

“I didn’t,” Pierce said. “Zoe ditched some guy in a blue car who appeared to be looking for an address.”

“Did you see his face?”

Zoe nodded. “It wasn’t Shapiro. And the guy made a U-turn and headed the other way. I cut through some yards and never saw him again.”

“There’s Ethan.” Vanessa’s eyes grew wide as she pointed to the van. “Let’s go.”

Zoe climbed into the backseat of the Grace Creek Bible Church van, glad that the tinted windows made her feel invisible. Pierce came in and sat beside her. Vanessa sat up front with Ethan.

“Thank you, Lord, that we all made it okay.” Ethan buckled his seat belt. “Please get us there without incident.”

Zoe liked the way Ethan talked to God as if He were right there with them. She noted how tenderly Ethan held Vanessa’s hand—and that Pierce’s hands had turned to fists, his arms tightly folded across his chest. Didn’t his body language say more than the harsh words he was holding back?

Zoe willed away the tears. If she started crying, would she ever be able to stop? Pierce would never forgive her. How was she going to let go of her best friend—her partner—her lover? How ironic it was that the lies she told in order to keep Pierce were now the very reason she had lost him.

Ethan started the van and drove slowly to the exit, then pulled onto Grace Creek Boulevard and headed west out of Les Barbes.

No one spoke for perhaps an entire minute.

Finally Ethan said, “In case you haven’t heard, they called off the search for the shooter. But now there’s trouble at the medical center. A group of African-Americans are marching outside with placards, claiming that the shooting was a payback for the lynching. And a group of whites are taunting them, saying they had it coming. It’s getting ugly. That’s probably where the sheriff is. And the police chief. And the media.”