False Pretenses (22 page)

“Then let’s hope we don’t need help,” Pierce said. “Did you get us a prepaid cell phone?”

Ethan nodded. “Yes, it’s been activated. You have five hundred minutes. That should give you more than enough to contact the sheriff and tell him everything. Just remember, you can’t call Vanessa or me at home or on our cell phones, just in case Shapiro has the capability of listening in on
our
calls. If he knows we’ve been in contact, he might try to force us to tell him where you are.”

Vanessa turned and looked over the seat. “Maybe it’ll be over before he even realizes you’re gone.”

“Wouldn’t
that
be nice?” Zoe said. “I just hope he doesn’t try to pry information out of our staff. We didn’t tell any of them what was going on—just that we’re dealing with a family emergency.”

“I doubt he’ll draw attention to himself,” Ethan said, “especially if he’s able to track your cell signal—again, assuming he really does know how to do that. I’m not so sure that he’s not bluffing. But why chance it?”

Zoe nodded. “Pierce and I turned our cell phones on and left them in the apartment.”

Ethan pulled down the visor and looked at them in the mirror. “Good. At least your signal will be emitting. Maybe by the time he realizes you’re not there, you will have been able to get through to Sheriff Prejean.”

Sheriff Jude Prejean, eyelids heavy, stood outside Hargrave Medical Center, a few yards from where black activists carried placards and shouted accusations that whites were taking justice into their own hands, without any proof that it was blacks who murdered Remy Jarvis.

Jude heard static coming from his walkie-talkie and then a male voice.

“Sheriff, this is Castille. Do you read? Over …”

“Affirmative,” Jude said. “What’s up?”

“Four Trojan horses are in the corral south of HMC. Over …”

“Copy that,” Jude said. “How big is the herd?”

“I see thirty-two.
Ils sont noirs
. Repeat:
Ils sont noirs
. They’re hoofing it to the watering hole. Should be in your sights shortly. Over …”

“Copy that.” Jude glanced over at the deputies who were standing between the two groups hurling verbal insults back and forth. “Have the cowboys arrived from Lafayette or New Iberia?”

“Negative. We’re standing by, saddled up and ready to go.”

“Let me know when they’re here.”

“Will do, Sheriff. Out.”

Jude squinted and looked beyond the crowd to the next block and saw the new arrivals walking toward him. How long would his crowd-control team be able to maintain order?

Deputy Chief Aimee Rivette walked over to him, a row of lines on her forehead. “Four vehicles with thirty-two black activists? We’re stretched thin as it is.” She shook her head. “Some of our people have been on the clock for over twenty-four hours. Focus is becoming a problem.”

“You’re reading my mind.” Jude glanced over at a media crew doing a live broadcast. “Get with Chief Norman and find out when he expects those reinforcements to be here.”

CHAPTER 23

Zoe stood next to the church van, under the shade of a huge live oak, and looked up at the stately pillars that graced the front of Langley Manor. Under different circumstances, camping here with Pierce might be an adventure—perhaps even a romantic one. Could she ever have imagined there would come a time when she dreaded being alone with him?

“That’s everything,” Vanessa said. “Why don’t you come take a look?”

Zoe followed Vanessa inside the old plantation house, instantly hit with the smell of old wood and the stark realization that whoever hung Remy Jarvis had probably hidden here too.

Vanessa led her to the back of the house, to the bedroom nearest to the kitchen, where Ethan and Pierce were inflating two air mattresses.

“I went by the storage locker and dug out our camping gear,” Ethan said. “I brought sleeping bags to put on these air mattresses. Also flashlights, a fan, and a lantern—all battery operated. Plus plenty of extra batteries. There’s a camping toilet and paper supplies over there in the bathroom.”

Zoe perked up. This might not be so bad.

Ethan stood and brushed his hands together. “I stopped at Crawfish Corner and got that Styrofoam ice chest and filled it with bottled water, orange juice, smoked turkey, and cheese. There’s bread, peanut butter and jelly, cereal bars, pretzels, and chips in the sacks. Also trash bags, paper towels, plastic utensils, and a package of moisturizing cloths to sponge off with. I know it’s hot in here, and there’s no running water. Hopefully the fan will help. Did I forget anything?”

“Are you kidding?” Pierce said. “I can’t believe you went to all this trouble to make us comfortable. Write down what we owe you, and I’ll pay you as soon as we get back.”

“Just talk to the sheriff and stay safe.” Ethan gave Pierce a pat on the back. “That’ll be payment enough. Remember not to go in the front part of the house with flashlights. The sheriff is having a patrol come by a few times a night. He can’t see the light on back here. If he sees light, he’ll call for backup and investigate, and you’ll be anything but under the radar.”

Zoe eyes clouded over. Did she deserve their kindness? Would anyone else they knew have taken this kind of risk to help them? “I-I’m so sorry for creating this mess.”

Vanessa put her index finger to her lips. “We’ve already determined who is Lord of our messes. No more apologies.”

“It’s probably a little scary being out here by yourselves,” Ethan said, “especially after the incident with the ‘candy man’ in the house and the lynching on the property next door. But the outside door to the secret tunnel has been nailed shut. You’re safe here. If I didn’t feel sure of it, I’d never suggest it. But just so you don’t feel defenseless … I left my Louisville Slugger behind the door.”

Pierce shot him a knowing look. “Thanks, man.”

Zoe reached in her pocket and felt the can of pepper spray.

“If the sheriff wants you to stay in hiding while he looks for Shapiro,” Vanessa said, “we can borrow the van and bring you more supplies. But there should be enough for several days. Shapiro doesn’t know about this place. It’s probably the safest place you could be.”

Ethan glanced at his watch. “I hate to run, but I promised to get the van back by five. It was generous of Pastor Auger to let us borrow it. Vanessa and I have gone to his church several times, but we’re not officially members yet.”

“What did you tell him?” Zoe asked.

“Just that we had some friends who were in a little trouble and needed to move some things this afternoon—which wasn’t a lie. He didn’t push me for details.” Ethan patted Pierce on the back and shook hands with him. “Remember, unless it’s an emergency, don’t call us on our cell phones or our home phone. Vanessa and I will call you from a pay phone and check in.”

Vanessa put her arms around Zoe and whispered, “Don’t be scared. God is right here with you. Even if Pierce shuts you out, God won’t.”

Jude keyed in the auto-dial number for Colette’s cell phone. Had she seen his news conference with the media? Was she aware of the escalating situation? The phone rang only once.

“There you are,” Colette Prejean said. “I was hoping you’d call. What a messy situation you’ve got going on.”

“So much for a relaxing Sunday at home.”

“Saul wants to know how Deshawn Macey’s doing.”

“Still critical,” Jude said. “But holding his own.”

“Saul said he’s a good kid. Why was he mixed up in all that?”

“From what we can determine, he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Have you been watching the news?”

“Actually I have. CNN did a short sound bite of you talking to the media. I was so proud of you. You sounded professional. Calm. Articulate. Certainly not the stereotype of the southern sheriff.”

“My Cajun accent wasn’t too much?”

“I can’t say
fuh shore
.” She laughed. “The news anchor didn’t seem to have any problem understanding you.”

“Good,” he said. “So is the phone ringing off the hook?”

“And then some. I finally unplugged it. You shouldn’t have to spend an hour playing it all back. I decided anyone who needs to talk business can contact you through proper channels. Our close friends and family have our cell numbers.”

“Thanks. Of the messages you listened to, could you tell if the comments were generally positive or negative?”

“Why, Sheriff, I only listened to the positive comments. I don’t want to hear anything negative about
my
man.”

He chuckled. “You don’t, huh?”

“Heavens no. You’re already working more hours than you should, trying to find Remy’s killer and this shooter. The last thing you need is people second-guessing your efforts. I have no patience with that.”

“Spoken with conviction.”

“We’re in this together. I take it personally when folks start coming down on you when they don’t know what they’re talking about. It’s like a
peekon
sticking in my heart. It’s all I can do to respond like a lady.”

He smiled. But she was
all
lady. How did he ever win her heart? He definitely married up. “Let’s talk about something pleasant. So has Saul decided he’s ready to go take his driver’s test tomorrow?”

“Oh, he’s ready.” Colette lowered her voice, the way she always did when she spoke seriously about one of the kids. “I’m not sure about Mama. Just think, Jude. Our baby’s old enough to drive. Before we know it, we’re going to have an empty nest.”

“Why don’t we just concentrate on how nice it is to have Raymond and Bridgette home from college? We’ve only got them for another couple weeks before they have to head back.”

“Oh, I am. I made
courtbouillon
for them tonight. I sure wish you’d been here to share it.”

Jude winced. “Aw, did you make homemade corn bread, too?”

“Of course I did. Don’t worry. We saved you some.”

“You’re a saint.”

“My halo’s a little tarnished for thinking ill of those who don’t appreciate the sacrifices you’re making to solve these cases.”

“I think the Almighty will forgive you for coming to my defense. But there will always be those who don’t agree with or understand the way I do things.”

“Well, I’d prefer they move to another parish.”

“I’m an elected official. They have a right to question what I do.”

“Maybe so. But
I
can unplug them.” Colette giggled. “I don’t know why I find that so amusing, but I do.”

“Sweetheart, I’ve got to get back to the front lines.”

“You sound exhausted.”

“That about sums it up. As soon as I feel sure things are secure here, I’m coming home. I’ll call and tell you when to heat up the
courtbouillon.”

Zoe wandered around the first floor of Langley Manor, watching the last vestiges of dusk slip away through the trees. Pierce didn’t want to talk—fine. She’d stay out of his way. She wished the windows had drapes she could pull. At least no one could see in unless she turned on a flashlight.

The rear of the house was another story. Once it was dark, wouldn’t the lantern-lit room make them visible to anyone or anything prowling out back? She considered the food Ethan brought and wondered whether bears inhabited the woods and might be drawn to it. Then again, this plantation house had been here since 1839. If bears were a threat, wouldn’t everyone in Les Barbes know those stories—just as they knew the ghost stories?

She shuddered and dismissed the ghost stories Hebert had told her about Josiah Langley wandering the halls at night, calling for his stillborn son, William. She became aware of a presence behind her and sucked in a breath—

“The phone is working.” Pierce’s resonant voice echoed in the empty room.

Zoe exhaled, her hand over her pounding heart. “You scared me to death.”
Maybe that’s what you wanted to do
.

“I called the sheriff’s department and was told Jude is in the field and unavailable. I tried reaching Colette at home. For some reason, the phone rings and rings without an answering machine picking up.”

“This cell number won’t be recognizable on their caller ID,” Zoe said. “She’ll probably think it’s one of those annoying marketing calls and just ignore it.”

“That’s just great. It’s obvious we’re not going to reach Jude tonight.” Pierce threw his hands in the air. “Why are you standing out here in front of those windows when Ethan told us
not
to?”

Zoe cringed at his harsh tone. “Ethan said not to turn on the flashlight out here, and I won’t. I’m just antsy and wanted to walk around. I don’t want the sheriff’s patrol to know we’re here anymore than you do.”

“And I don’t want to be forced to call 9-1-1 because you fall and break your neck while walking around in the dark!” Pierce’s voice went up a decibel. “Let’s just try to get through this in one piece, okay? For once, will you just do what you’re told without adding your two cents?”

Zoe bit her lip. How was she supposed to reply to such an irrational outburst? She didn’t want to make him any more agitated that he already was. “All right,” she said calmly.

She turned on her heel and walked slowly toward the light in the back of the house, trying not to show how hurt she was. Did she even have a right to be hurt? If it weren’t for her lies, none of this would be happening. But was she going to let Pierce bully her the entire time they were confined together? Did she really have a choice? He had to let go of his anger and disappointment and fear somehow. Could she really blame him for taking it out on her?

She walked into the back bedroom and lay on her air mattress. It was only nine o’clock. She was too wired to be sleepy. Was she just supposed to lay here in silence and stare at the ceiling?

Zoe thought of Adele Woodmore and how kind the dear woman had been in the face of her startling confession. Hadn’t Zoe promised to call her tomorrow to see if the repayment agreement was ready and when and where she should go to sign it? If Pierce decided to split up, was she capable of operating Zoe B’s? Without Pierce’s partnership and support and culinary abilities, did she even want to? Did it matter what she wanted? She had agreed to pay Mrs. Woodmore a thousand dollars a month for the next thirty months.

What if their breakup caused their steady customers to stop coming? What if their friends felt allegiance to both of them and weren’t comfortable supporting Zoe as long as Pierce and she were at odds? Unless Zoe B’s continued to make a healthy profit, how could she come up with the extra thousand a month? Would she go bankrupt? Would she end up right back where she was ten years ago—without a family? Without enough money to take care of herself?