The Reckoning (9 page)

“What do you know about class, Holt Chamberlain? You certainly didn’t learn anything from your father, and your mother’s always been a fool.”

Lorraine whirled her shopping cart around and took off toward the checkout counter.

“Why do I let that woman get to me?” Alex asked. “I’m so mad, my hands are shaking.”

“Lorraine is the biggest bitch ever to walk Vodoun. She gets to everyone. I would apologize for her, but I stopped taking responsibility for things my family did years ago.”

Alex sighed. “It’s not your place to apologize, although it’s likely the only one I’d ever get.”

“Likely,” Holt agreed. “How’s Sarah?”

“Not good. She was painting the garage when I left—with red nail polish. She insisted I buy more because she needs enough to finish the trim.”

Holt glanced down at her shopping cart. “So you thought you’d burn down the garage once she was done? I’m not sure where the toothpaste fits into that.”

Alex laughed. “I was thinking the same thing earlier. I’m supposed to be picking up groceries, but my concentration is off.”

“Let me help.”

Alex stared. “You?”

“I make a mean spaghetti sauce. That should last you guys a couple of days.”

Alex felt a flicker of warmth in her heart and tried to squelch it. “You don’t have to do that. We’ll manage.”

“I want to. Look, I already feel like I’m not doing enough. This storm will break tonight, and with any luck we can go back to the island tomorrow, but I feel like I ought to be doing more. I’m not made for sitting still.”

Alex knew she should say no. Every square inch of her body screamed at her that spending a domestic evening with Holt was just asking for trouble. But she found herself nodding, despite every completely reasonable argument to the contrary that she could summon.

“I’ll meet you there in a half hour,” Holt said, and walked away.

Alex watched after him, her mind whirling with a million thoughts. Where was Erika? What had happened to Bobby? Who was the man who’d sold Bobby’s guitar and what did Holt know about it?

Spaghetti.

Damn. Alex scanned the store, but didn’t see the top of Holt’s head in any of the aisles. What the heck did you buy to make spaghetti?

* * *

S
ARAH PULLED A FIFTH BAG
of tomatoes from the shopping bags that Alex had placed on the counter. Five bags. Five different types of tomatoes. She looked over at Alex, eyebrows raised. “Are we cooking spaghetti for a very picky group of eaters, or is there some sort of spaghetti cook-off happening here that you didn’t tell me about?”

Alex looked over at the counter and held in a groan. “I might have invited Holt for dinner.”

“You might have? How much does he plan on eating?”

“I had a run-in with Lorraine in the supermarket, and Holt interrupted right about when I was going to clock her—”

“That man’s always had horrible timing.”

Alex stared at Sarah for a moment, then burst out laughing. “Oh, my God,” she said and grabbed a paper towel to wipe the tears running down her cheeks. “Oh, Sarah. You don’t know how good it is to hear you sound so normal.”

“Well, if I’d known it was going to make you hysterical, I would have kept my mouth shut.”

Alex threw her arms around Sarah and gave her a squeeze. “We’re going to make it through this.”

“I know.”

Alex pushed back and gave Sarah a close look. Her cousin’s color had returned and her expression was almost serene. “What happened to change you like this? I know the medicine didn’t do it. It’s not that powerful. Did you sniff too much fingernail polish when you were painting the garage?”

“I talked to Madam Fredericks after you left for the grocery store.”

“The palm reader on Main Street?”

Sarah nodded. “I know you don’t believe in the old ways, but I think we should take every avenue available to us. Madam Fredericks has been right in everything she’s told me so far. She’s going to be right again.”

Alex bit her bottom lip, trying to formulate a response. “What did she say?”

“She said Erika would be returned to me.”

Alex frowned. “Is that it?”

“Yes,” Sarah said, and smiled. “Don’t you see, Alex? My baby is going to come back to me.”

Alex nodded and forced a smile. “That’s great. Really
great, Sarah.”

“So help me wash the dishes and I can tell you the gossip about Lorraine and that ‘business associate’ of hers.”

“I really should check my messages at the hospital,” Alex said, certain that Lorraine was the last person she wanted to talk about at the moment.

“C’mon. It will be just like old times—you and me talking trash about that bitch.” Sarah grinned.

“Well, when you put it that way.”

Sarah hurried to the kitchen and tossed a dishrag to Alex. “I know you’re just dying to hear about how she took him as her date to the party at the country club last week.”

Alex lifted the dishrag off her shoulder and hurried to the sink next to Sarah. “The country club? Did he burst into flames when he stepped across the hallowed, rich-people-only threshold?”

“No, Satan’s mistress must have provided him some form of immunity.”

“But surely everyone is talking? What was she thinking? I mean, as much as I can’t stand Lorraine, I’ve never thought she was foolish.”

“It’s a mixed bag. The men think she’s an old lady acting like a fool with a young man. And they would know as most of the country club men are on their second or third wives, all younger than their children. The women are a different story.”

“How’s that?”

“Some think she’s a shameful hussy. This is still the Bible Belt, after all. But a lot think it’s about time that ‘more mature’ women took advantage of the same opportunities as men.”

“How very progressive of the ladies of Vodoun.”

Sarah waved a hand in dismissal. “Oh, the older ones all think she looks a fool, but the girls in their teens and twenties think it’s cool.”

“Still, what does anyone know about the man? I mean, he’s been around for years, but always lurking in the shadows. I don’t even know his name.”

“Martin Rommel. And I’d bet anything I own that our good Sheriff Conroy had him checked out long ago. If there was anything there that he could use to get rid of the guy, he would have.”

“True, but you’re also talking about Jasper, who probably couldn’t find anything on the man if he was holding a smoking gun over a body. Still, I guess it’s not exactly pleasant to have your mother running around with a guy your age or younger.”

“Not to mention the fear of lost fortune. I mean, what if she went off her trolley and married him? Jasper could get cut out of everything.”

“Do you think that’s what this Martin Rommel is up to?”

“Well, don’t you? I mean, why else would a young, good-looking man want to take up with a woman old enough to draw Social Security? Especially someone as nasty as Lorraine.”

“You have a very valid point.” And what Sarah said made sense, but something still didn’t feel quite right to Alex. Maybe it was because she knew better than anyone just how shrewd Lorraine was. Would the nemesis of all decent women actually stoop to paying for the company of a man?

“You know what I never understood,” Alex said.

“You don’t understand something?” Sarah teased.

Alex smiled. “This animosity that Lorraine has for your mom. I used to think it was a childhood thing, but surely she would have outgrown it. There have to be a million other adult slights more important to her by this time. So why all the vitriol?”

Sarah shook her head. “I had a run-in with her about a month ago at the post office. I’d stopped there on my way to see Mom, and was still fighting mad when I got to the nursing home. You know how when we’d ask her about it when we were kids, she always made up some fantastic excuse?”

“Like the cat drank the last of her cereal milk.”

“Exactly. Well, I figured Mom’s not as sharp as she used to be and she doesn’t work as hard to control her tongue…”

“So you asked again. Very sneaky and very like you. Did you get an answer?”

Sarah frowned. “Not really. She said that Lorraine hated all the pretty girls because her husband liked them too much.”

“We already knew that. Everyone in Vodoun knows that.”

“I know, but that’s all I could get out of her. And she was serious when she said it.” Sarah turned to face Alex. “Do you think he could have hit on Mom?”

“I think he hit on everything female within a hundred-mile radius. And your mom is gorgeous. It wouldn’t surprise me.”

“But she was already married when she moved to Vodoun.”

“So was he.”

Sarah rolled her eyes. “A valid point.”

She handed Alex the last dish and shook the water from her hands. “I better go put on a nice shirt. Since we’re having company. And who knows? Tonight may be the night Erika returns.”

Alex watched as Sarah strode down the hall to her bedroom. She’d been happy and surprised to see her cousin with improved spirits, but her emotions were completely mixed on the reason. Logic and an education in science told Alex the old ways weren’t possible, but an upbringing mired in lore and tradition always left that tiny bit of what-if in the back of her mind.

What troubled Alex the most was the prediction itself. Madam Fredericks had stated Erika would be returned to Sarah. But she hadn’t stated that Erika would be returned alive.

Chapter Eight

Holt’s phone rang as he was pulling up in front of
Sarah’s house. The sheriff.

“Did you get the warrant?” Holt asked.

“Yeah, I got it, but neither me nor the judge is overly happy about it. I’m hoping my mother doesn’t hear about this until I’m out of my cast and can run fast enough to escape her mouth. She put up a lot of money to get me elected and wouldn’t appreciate having made a bad investment if this whole thing goes bad.”

“I understand.” Holt had heard enough of Lorraine’s mouth that afternoon to last a lifetime. Still, he was happy he’d walked up when he did or he had a feeling he would have been serving Alex supper down at town lockup. “What does the warrant cover?”

“The right to search all areas of the island including structures.”

“No restrictions?” Holt was a bit surprised that his uncle had gotten that much latitude.

“I specifically asked for no restrictions. I want you at that island at daybreak and done with this wild goose chase by tomorrow night. Then I don’t want to hear another weird theory from crazy Sarah again. This parish has enough problems with reputation without crazy women adding to the mix. After tomorrow, you spend your time looking for Bobby Rhonaldo. Is that clear?”

“Yeah, there may be a problem with that.” He told his uncle about the pawn shop and Bobby’s guitar.

His uncle swore. “Why didn’t you tell me about this as soon as you found out? I could have gotten a picture off that video and already had it running in the national database.”

“Already taken care of. You’re on leave.”

“Just how did you manage that when I didn’t leave you passwords or instructions for any of those systems?”

“I called in a favor with Max.”

“Oh, yeah. That half brother of yours. Well, next time I want you to invite the Baton Rogue Police Department into my investigation, I’ll tell you. Is that clear?”

“No problem.”

“So what are you doing now?”

“Officially, I’m off the clock, so I don’t have to answer that.”

“Which means it’s something I wouldn’t like. Do us all a favor, Holt. Don’t create a bunch of problems in this town and then leave again like you did last time. Vodoun’s a nice place. I’d like for it to stay that way.”

Holt disconnected the call and slipped the phone back in his jeans pocket. A nice town with more disappearing children per capita than any other town in the state. A parish with a reputation so creepy that vendors would deliver to the businesses located within it during only daylight hours. Not the place he’d choose to settle down given that statistic,
if
he were ever inclined to settle down in the first place.

He looked over at Sarah’s cute white cottage with blue trim and pretty fall flowers and sighed. He was about to prepare dinner for his ex-girlfriend, when he’d gone halfway around the world to forget, and the mother of the missing child. Yeah, that wasn’t even remotely domestic.

Before he changed his mind and drove away, he pushed open the door and stepped out onto the curb. He saw the curtains flutter on the front window and knew someone had peeked outside and seen him. Too late to flee now. At least too late to flee without looking like a coward. Again.

He was going to do his small-town duty and cook a meal for a friend in trouble. Nothing wrong with that. And maybe, if he could get a little too much wine into Alex, she may tell him what happened to her and Sarah on that island years ago. All this time he’d wondered. And the fact that Alex and Sarah had held to their pact to never tell anyone what had happened let him know it was something serious. Something neither of them wanted to bring back to the forefront of their memory.

He strode up the sidewalk and Alex opened the front door as he approached.

“I thought you were going to change your mind for a minute there,” Alex commented.

Because that was exactly what he’d been thinking of doing, he was silent for a second, then finally said, “No, just thinking about a phone call.”

“The sheriff?”

“How did you guess?”

“Because your expression wavers between aggravation and looking like you sucked on a lemon. The man does the same thing to me.”

Holt laughed. “Well, then I guess I need to get to cooking and improve our moods.” Before he stepped in the house, he asked, “How’s Sarah doing?”

Alex raised one eyebrow and pointed toward the kitchen. “Perhaps you should see for yourself.”

Holt hesitated for a moment, but when Alex said nothing more, he walked down the hallway to the kitchen, uncertain of what he was going to find. What he saw was the last possible thing he’d expected.

Sarah was standing at the island in her kitchen, hands covered with flour and singing along with a George Strait song playing on the radio. She looked up as he walked into the room and beamed.