False Pretenses (25 page)

CHAPTER 26

Zoe sat on her air mattress, hugging her knees, wishing Pierce would say something about the phone call they’d just had with Jude.

Finally she said, “Thank you for staying calm. I know it was humiliating telling Jude our personal business.”

He lifted his gaze and shot her one of his classic you-got-that-right looks.

“At least Jude knows everything now,” she said. “Maybe he’ll get DNA evidence off the clothes and shoes I was wearing when Shapiro assaulted me.”

“We can only hope.”

The disgust in his voice made her want to cry. Could she blame him for feeling repulsed by the whole drama?

“When Vanessa calls,” Zoe said, “we need to fill her in on everything so she won’t be alarmed if she sees deputies in our apartment.”

Pierce stretched out on his air mattress, his hands behind his head. “You’d better hope they find something that tells them who this Shapiro creep is, or we’re going to live in fear until he finally kills us. Drug dealers are ruthless. They settle every score. I still can’t believe you got us into this.”

Zoe wiped away the tear that trailed down her face. Did it even matter that there was no way she could have seen this coming? None of it would have happened if she hadn’t tried to be someone she wasn’t.

A dull thud came from upstairs. Zoe froze.

“What was
that?”
Pierce jumped to his feet and grabbed the ball bat from behind the door.

For a split second she was a child again, staring up at her drunken father.

Pierce gripped the bat with one hand and put his index finger to his lips with the other.

She listened intently for footsteps moving across the ceiling, but the only sound she heard was the thumping of her heart. Had something fallen? There was no furniture upstairs and nothing hanging on the walls that she could recall.

Neither of them moved for several minutes. Had Shapiro found them? Had he forced Vanessa or Ethan to tell him where they were? Fear seized her. What if they were going to die?

God, when Ethan prayed, he said we’re never out of Your sight—not for a second. That means You see us right now. Help us! Don’t let Shapiro hurt us!

“We need to get out of here,” Zoe whispered.

“And go where? We’re sure not safe outside this house.” Pierce stuck his head out in the hallway and then turned to her. “I’m going upstairs and take a look. It’s probably nothing.”

“It didn’t sound like nothing.”

“Every door and window is locked,” he said. “There has to be an explanation for the sound. Wait here.”

“Are you kidding?” Zoe scrambled to her feet. “I’m not staying here by myself. I’m coming with you.”

“Suit yourself. Stay right behind me.”

They crept down the hall to the back stairs and slowly climbed, one cautious step at a time, to the next level.

Despite the massive live oaks that shaded the house, enough light came through the window at the end of the hallway for them to see where they were going. Zoe stayed right on Pierce’s heels, clinging to the hem of his shirt, half expecting the ghost of Josiah Langley to jump out at them at any moment.

Pierce entered the first room, looking and listening intently before moving on to the next. Except for the sound of their breathing, it was absolutely still.

When they came to the last bedroom—where the deputies had found the door to the secret tunnel—Zoe stopped and clung to the door frame, her pulse racing so fast she feared she might faint.

Pierce crept over to the closet and gingerly tapped the walls with the bat. “I see the door to the tunnel.”

“Isn’t it behind the bookshelf?”

“No, the bookshelf’s next to it. The deputies must have left it there.” He turned the knob and pulled open the door, jumping back as if he were expecting someone to lunge at him.

“Do you see anything?” she whispered.

“Not really. It’s dark. I can’t tell where the stairs are.”

Pierce backed up and turned around, then prodded her out into the hallway. “We’ve been through every room. There’s nobody up here.”

“No
body
. But what if the stories about Josiah Langley’s ghost aren’t so far-fetched after all?”

Pierce rolled his eyes. “I don’t see anyone, do you?” He made a sweeping motion with his hand. “There’s no one here but us. Let’s go back downstairs.”

Pierce moved toward the big staircase that led down into the formal entryway.

Zoe started to follow him and stepped on something hard. She stopped and picked it up. “I don’t believe this.”

“What now?” Pierce sighed and turned around.

“I just stepped on a lemon drop.” She walked over to him and put it in his hand. “Explain how
that
got here.”

“Don’t overreact. I’m sure it’s left over from when the intruder was here.”

“Funny the deputies didn’t see it.”

“Zoe, it’s not that light up here. It wouldn’t be hard to miss. You didn’t see it until after you stepped on it. We just searched all the rooms on this floor. There’s no one up here. It was probably just the house settling.”

“It sounded like something fell on the floor.”

Pierce handed her the bat. “Fine. Search it again, if you want. And search the secret tunnel while you’re at it. And the basement. And the attic. I’m going downstairs and wait for Vanessa’s call. If you run into Josiah Langley, tell him hello for me.”

Zoe’s eyes clouded over, and she blinked away the tears. Wasn’t it hard enough being confined here without Pierce’s sarcasm?

Jude stood in the living room of Zoe and Pierce’s apartment and waited while Stone Castille and Mike Doucet went to retrieve the clothes Zoe was wearing the night she met with Shapiro—and to find the notes he left her. He glanced around the apartment. What a cozy place it was. Their French country furnishings captured the old-world charm that was also pervasive at Zoe B’s.

He spotted the Broussards’ wedding picture on the bookshelf and went over where he could see it better. Had it really been five years since Zoe and Pierce got married? He remembered their wedding like it was yesterday—especially the reception. Zoe and Pierce had cooked the food themselves ahead of time. He had never seen a more delicious, authentic spread of Cajun food. Several cousins got together and played zydeco and contemporary Cajun music. It was one, big happy party that went on for hours. Why hadn’t he given a second thought to the fact that Zoe’s family wasn’t there? Now that he knew the truth about her, shouldn’t it have given him pause?

Jude looked at the framed picture of Pierce’s family. The Broussards were a proud lot. Even if Pierce somehow weathered the betrayal he must be feeling, would his family? Would they be able to accept Zoe after this?

Stone came out of the bathroom, wearing plastic gloves and carrying paper bags. “I’ve got the shirt, capris, and shoes. I hope we get DNA—and that this jerk is in the system.”

“That makes two of us.”

Mike came out of the bedroom. “I found all five notes, right where Mrs. Broussard said they’d be.” He held up a small bag. “I’ll get these sent to the lab.”

“Good work. Put a rush on it. Gil’s got one of the detectives dusting the office door for prints. There’s got to be something usable in all this.”

Jude’s phone vibrated. He took it off his belt clip, read the display, and put the phone to his ear. “Yeah, Aimee. What’s up?”

“Sheriff, we got a break in the Jarvis case. The lab discovered a spot of blood on Remy Jarvis’s shirt that didn’t belong to Remy. They did a DNA analysis and found the guy in the system—name’s Reagan Cowan, age thirty-nine, of New Orleans. He was arrested in 2001 on cocaine possession. The case was thrown out on some kind of technicality. Cowan’s wanted in Texas on aggravated assault and trafficking charges. We’ve got an APB out on him. I just sent his mug shot to your phone.”

“Good work, Aimee.”

“Also, we just got the report on shoe impressions we cast at the scene of Remy’s murder. I put the report on your desk but thought you’d want a heads up.”

“Give me the bottom line.”

“Using their SoleSearcher database,” she said, “the FBI was able to identify three distinct shoe impressions on the ground directly under the place where Remy was found hanging. The size twelve Converse high-top was Remy’s. They also found a men’s size eleven North Face summer sneaker, and a men’s size ten and a half Columbia Newton Ridge hiking boot. Can’t get any more specific than that.”

“Good,” Jude said. “All we need now are suspects.”

“Also, the fourth shoe impression we cast on the Vincent farm and also on the grounds at Langley Manor fit a Sears and Roebuck loafer sold in 2001 and 2002. They noted the soles were extremely worn.”

“That’s interesting,” Jude said. “Seems an odd shoe to wear when traipsing around the two properties.”

“That’s what I was thinking. Not exactly a hiking boot.”

“No, but it’s not something we’re going to find in everyone’s closet either. Okay, Aimee, thanks.”

“Are you finding everything where Zoe said it was?”

“Yeah, it’s all here. We should be done shortly. I was about to check with the team at Roux River Park and see if they found anything near the first turn on Landry Trail where Shapiro threatened her. I really can’t afford to pull our people off the other details to get this done. But I don’t want to be investigating another murder either. Let’s find this guy.”

Vanessa drove west on Grace Creek Boulevard and out of the city limits of Les Barbes, Shapiro now holding a gun on her.

“Where are we going?” she asked for the third time, hating that her voice was shaking as much as the rest of her.

Was his silence a ploy to intimidate her? How much longer could she pretend not to know where the Broussards were before Shapiro starting hurting her? Did he really believe she knew—or was he just fishing? How far was he willing to go to find out?

At least her gut feeling that he didn’t know where Carter was seemed to be correct. Why else would he have stopped threatening to hurt her son if she didn’t talk? But did that make the situation any less dire? If she gave in and told Shapiro where Zoe and Pierce were, wouldn’t he dispose of her—and then go after them? And if she didn’t tell, wouldn’t he try to force it out of her? Her only way out of this alive was to catch him off guard and make a run for it the first chance she got.

Lord, show me what to do. I need wisdom. And angels!

“Turn right on Plantation Highway,” he ordered.

“Why won’t you tell me where we’re going?” she asked, not expecting a response.

Vanessa turned on her blinker and exited at Plantation Highway. She stopped at the stop sign and made a right turn as she was told. Why did he make her take
this
exit? Langley Manor was only another mile on this road. Did he know Zoe and Pierce were there? Had he been playing her all along?

She stole a glance at Shapiro in the rearview mirror. His eyes laughed at her mockingly. She shuddered, her heart hammering so wildly that she felt light-headed and wondered if she had any business driving.

“Slow down and get ready to turn,” he said.

“Where? There’s no cross street for several miles.”

“Shut up and just do it.”