False Pretenses (20 page)

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Authors: Kathy Herman

Tags: #Book 1, #Secrets of Roux River Bayou

BOOK: False Pretenses
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His sarcasm was biting. Was he trying to say she
had
lost him? Was he just speaking out of anger? Or was he too devastated by her betrayal to ever recover? Did she dare allow herself to give in to the fear and sorrow?

“Pierce. I love you. That’s not something I can fake. In your heart, you know it’s the truth. I don’t want anything to happen to you. Or me. Before we’re both too depressed to think straight, we need to decide what to do.”

CHAPTER 20

Vanessa lay in Ethan’s arms, praying, aware that it had been almost five minutes since she had heard any shouting or door slamming coming from Zoe and Pierce’s apartment.

Lord, help them get through this. Don’t let it destroy their marriage.

“Ethan, are you awake?” she whispered.

“I keep dozing off. Is it still quiet over there?”

“Yes, for about five minutes now. Do you think we should knock on the door and let them know we’re here, in case they need us?”

Ethan stroked her hair. “No. Zoe knows that. We don’t know whether or not she told Pierce about your earlier conversation. It’s better if we stay out of it.”

“We can’t stay out of it. What if Shapiro knows she talked to me? We’re in this, whether we like it or not. At some point, we’re going to have to talk to them.”

“Well, not at two in the morning.”

“I hope Pierce doesn’t walk out on her,” Vanessa said. “No matter how wrong it was that she lied about her past, I know Zoe didn’t lie about her feelings for him.”

“Victims of childhood sexual abuse are so used to living with secrets,” Ethan said, “that lying becomes second nature. Maybe now that she’s had to confront the truth, Zoe will be able to move past it.”

“She may not get the chance unless the sheriff apprehends Shapiro,” Vanessa said. “I’m really scared for her. I wish I knew what she told Pierce.”

“Judging from the shouting, probably the truth.”

“I’ll never be able to sleep with this up in the air.” Vanessa sighed. “I was looking forward to going to church at Grace Creek in the morning, but now I’m thinking we need to stay home and help Zoe and Pierce.”

“I was looking forward to it too. I’m so ready to join a church and get involved again. But I guess we can put that on hold for a week. Pastor Auger will understand.” Ethan pulled her closer. “If we’re going to be of any help to Zoe and Pierce, we need to stay strong and not get paralyzed by fear.”

“Easier said than done.”

“I never said it was easy. But we’ve been through worse.”

Vanessa’s mind flashed back to the terrifying moments after his cousin, Drew, was gunned down, and the agonizing hours when Ethan was being pursued by the men responsible.

“The faith you showed in going to the police when Drew’s killers tried to shut you up amazed me,” she said. “You said if right is right, it’s right all the time and not just when it’s convenient.”

“It is. But it’s important to use wisdom in
how
you go to the police. It’s not like I went down to the station and wrote out a statement.”

“I know, Ethan. I just wish I had your faith. So how do we help Zoe and Pierce do the right thing without endangering their lives—or ours?”

Jude Prejean leaned on the hood of his squad car, which had been moved to the south parking lot near the main entrance of Roux River Park and set up as a command post.

Gil Marcel paced nearby, cell phone to his ear, checking in with his people, who had been assigned to specific areas of the perimeter.

Stone Castille was in charge of making sure the intoxicated, restless teenagers were not only segregated, but also unable to talk to each other before they could be questioned by authorities. To ensure their safety while the shooter was still at large, Stone coordinated the shuttling of the teens by police to several indoor facilities in the park.

Jude turned around and looked across the street from the main entrance of the park, where media and parents waited. The tension was almost tangible as authorities worked to contain the shooter and determine what, if anything, was known about him.

Police Chief Casey Norman was using the hood of another squad car to keep a log of his officers and where each was being utilized. He looked over at Jude. “You really know how to throw a party on a Saturday night, Sheriff.”

“Beats staying at home in the air-conditioning with my beautiful wife and three adoring children, enjoying a home-cooked meal and a great movie.”

“If you’re like me, you haven’t been home except to sleep since Remy Jarvis was murdered.” Casey wrote something on his log. “So what’s your assessment of what happened here tonight?”

Jude spotted the headlights of more vehicles arriving on the north side of the perimeter. “We haven’t been able to determine whether the shooting and the fighting were related. What we do know is that the fighting and the threat to lynch the black kid resulted from anger over Remy Jarvis’s murder.”

“Remy’s murder was a travesty,” Casey said. “I’m surprised we haven’t had a race riot on our hands.”

“Well, I’d say that’s a real possibility, now that the news is out that a black youth was shot following a violent clash between white and black teenagers.”

“Any word on Deshawn Macey?”

“Not yet. He sustained a nasty gunshot wound. Lost a lot of blood. It could go either way. I don’t need to tell you what could happen if that kid dies.”

“If we could arrest the shooter, it would go a long way in easing the tension.” Casey took a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped the perspiration off his face and neck.

“There’s little chance he’s going to slip through the perimeter,” Jude said. “If he’s out here, we’ll find him.”

Pierce lay on the sofa, a bed sheet draped over him, and stared at the ceiling fan going round and round in the dark. He felt as if his head would explode. He was sure his heart already had—his hopes and dreams blown to smithereens, nothing left but devastation and the lingering stench of betrayal.

How could he not have seen through Zoe’s lies? Why didn’t he question her more about her parents? Didn’t he sense she was holding something back? Didn’t it seem odd that she didn’t have contact with anyone from her past?

Pierce sighed. The sadness that overtook her any time he brought it up was more troubling than his unanswered questions. But how could he have known she was hiding dark secrets from him—secrets that could put her life in jeopardy?

Pierce threw back the sheet and got up. He opened the door to the gallery and stepped outside, the first gray light of dawn visible in the eastern sky. He stood leaning on the wrought-iron railing and looked down on
rue Madeline
.

How serious was the threat to Zoe’s life? Was this Shapiro character really capable of murder? Would he have put himself at risk by accosting her, cutting her face, and scaring her half to death if he didn’t intend to follow through?

Pierce shuddered. He saw the newspaper van go by and thought of Remy. If harm could befall an innocent guy like that, was it so far-fetched that Zoe, with her deceptive baggage, could end up as the victim of mistaken identity? What did they have to do to ensure they didn’t end up as murder victims? Or was their fate sealed the minute Zoe passed herself off as Zoe Benoit in that feature story?

Pierce gripped the railing and shook it, silently shouting at the top of his lungs.
Zoe, what have you done?

Vanessa sat in the living room with the lights out. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw something moving outside and could make out the silhouette of someone standing at the railing on the gallery next door. She realized it was Pierce. He took the bottom of his T-shirt and wiped his eyes.

Vanessa’s heart sank.
Lord, please help him. He must be devastated.

Unless he and Zoe could find a way to tell Sheriff Prejean about the situation without Shapiro knowing, the state of their marriage was the least of his worries. Was Shapiro capable of listening in on their conversations? Could he track their whereabouts? Or was he bluffing?

And if Zoe and Pierce did tell the sheriff their circumstances, could he protect them from Shapiro? Would he? Could he even spare the manpower while he was investigating Remy Jarvis’s murder?

Ethan came in the living room and sat next to her on the sofa. “I couldn’t sleep, so I turned on the TV. Someone shot a black teenager at Roux River Park last night. Apparently there was some sort of racial incident with a group of teens prior to the shooting. The sheriff and the police chief have been on the scene all night and have sealed the park, hoping to catch the shooter.”

“Do they think it’s a payback for Remy’s murder?”

“The news commentator posed the question, but the sheriff wouldn’t comment. I wonder how long he’s going to be out there. I’m not sure Zoe and Pierce would feel comfortable talking to anyone else.”

Vanessa glanced outside and saw that Pierce was no longer standing at the railing. “If Sheriff Prejean has been out there all night, he’s not going to be available to take on anything else. He might even go home to get some rest.”

“Of all days for there to be another crisis,” Ethan said. “Zoe and Pierce can’t put off talking to the authorities. They’ve only got until tomorrow when the banks close before Shapiro figures out they didn’t do what he said.”

CHAPTER 21

Jude put on his dark glasses as the sun cleared the top of the tree line on the east side of the park. It was going to be another cloudless scorcher. He turned to Gil Marcel and caught him in the middle of a yawn.

“Sorry, Sheriff,” Gil said. “It’s been a long night.”

“Have some more coffee. We’re just getting started. Tell your people on the east and west sides of the perimeter to search the woods again. The sun’s high enough now that they should have sufficient light. Chief Norman’s officers will sweep the park grounds. I want this shooter in custody or we’ll have to keep the park closed and deal with hundreds of disappointed and angry folks who made plans to come here.”

“Yes, sir. We’re on it.”

Jude heard Casey on the phone, telling his officer in charge to begin a thorough search of the park property and facilities.

Stone Castille got out of his squad car and walked over to Jude. “Deshawn Macey’s out of recovery, but he’s still critical. The surgeon said if he pulls through, he’s going to need more surgeries and extensive rehab. It’s too soon to know if he’ll regain the use of his leg.”

“He’s lucky he didn’t bleed out at the scene.”

Stone looked down at the ground and moved a rock with his boot. “Sir, we have a bigger problem. A couple dozen African-Americans are marching in front of Hargrave Medical Center, carrying placards and claiming Deshawn Macey was targeted by whites in retaliation for the lynching of Remy Jarvis.”

“We don’t know that.”

“These folks aren’t exactly in the mood to listen. It’s getting ugly.”

“I don’t blame them for being upset.” Jude tore a paper towel off the roll and wiped the sweat off his forehead. “But we need to put a stop to the speculation before it gets out of hand. I’m putting you in charge, Stone. Organize a team and get over there. Manage the crowd and tell them exactly what we know. Assure them that we’re on their side and want the shooter caught and brought to justice. See that the situation doesn’t escalate.”

“What should I do about the teenagers we didn’t arrest? I’m having them brought back over here so we can release them to their parents.”

“I’ll have someone else take care of it. I want you at the medical center. Find a way to keep the peace. I’ll go to the media again. I’ll assure people that justice will be done and convince them that they need to show restraint.”

Zoe sat at the kitchen table, picking at a half-eaten bagel, studying Pierce’s demeanor, trying to decide which emotion seemed more pronounced: anger or fear.

“Have you thought any more about what we should do?” she said.

“You think I could
stop
thinking about it?”

“I guess not. I sure haven’t. I’ve been racking my brain, trying to figure out a way to talk to Jude without Shapiro finding out.”

“Well, save your brainpower,” Pierce said. “You can’t get to Jude anyhow. A black kid was shot at Roux River Park last night. That’s where Jude and most law-enforcement personnel are right now. Looks like they might be there for some time. They’ve closed the park and a search is underway.”

“Where did you hear that?”

“It’s all over the news.”

Zoe felt her neck muscles tighten. What were they going to do? She didn’t feel safe confiding in a deputy.

There was a knock at the door.

“Stay put.” Pierce got up and looked out the peephole. “It’s Ethan and Vanessa.” He opened the door. “I’m surprised you’re still speaking to us.”

“Of course we’re speaking to you,” Ethan said. “May we come in?”

Pierce held open the door and let them pass. “Where’s Carter?”

“We arranged for him to stay with a friend from his preschool,” Vanessa said.

“You two really shouldn’t get involved. This Shapiro’s dangerous.”

“We’re already involved.” Ethan put his hand on Pierce’s shoulder. “Let’s put our heads together. There has to be a solution.”

“I can’t think of one.”

“Come out to the kitchen,” Zoe said.

Vanessa and Ethan walked into the kitchen and sat across from her at the table. Pierce remained standing.

“I’m so sorry,” Zoe said. “If I thought I could get away from Shapiro without putting any of you at risk, I’d just get in the car and start driving.” She glanced up at Pierce and wondered if he would just as soon she did.

“There’s no way out of this.” Pierce went over and stood in front of the window, his arms folded. “Shapiro’s planning to kill us either way. We might as well go to Jude and tell him everything—and hope he can find Shapiro before Shapiro finds us.”

“We all agree you need to tell the sheriff what’s going on,” Ethan said. “But if Shapiro is watching you, you’re putting yourselves in grave danger the minute you walk in and out of the sheriff’s department.”

Zoe sighed. “He said he’d know if we went to the sheriff or told someone else who did. So he must have a way of monitoring our phone calls, too.”

“He’s probably bluffing,” Ethan said. “But why take a chance when there may be a way around it?”

“What way around it?” Pierce came over and stood next to the table.

“We need to throw him off his game.” Ethan pushed his glasses up higher on his nose. “There’s more than one way to go to the sheriff.”

Jude glanced at his watch. How much longer was he willing to tie up all this valuable personnel when trouble was brewing at the medical center?

He saw Police Chief Norman put his cell phone back on his belt clip and walked over to him.

“How long before your officers will be done with the sweep?” Jude asked.

“I’d say within the hour.” Casey stuck a pencil behind his ear. “They just recovered the third .357 shell casing in close proximity to where the others were found at the south end of tennis court A. But they also discovered shoe prints in the damp grass, leading from the tennis court to the parking lot. A man’s size eleven. Might mean something. The sprinklers were on in that area of the park from nine thirty to ten p.m. These would’ve been made after that. The timing’s right.”

“Good work. My teams are finished searching the woods. No sign of the shooter. But we did find beer cans and whisky bottles in a small clearing in the west woods. We’ll dust them for prints. Might yield something. It’s time to make a decision whether we want to maintain the perimeter a while longer or give it up.”

“It’s your call,” Casey said, “but since the containment’s not getting us anywhere, maybe we should put our efforts into maintaining order. What’s happening at the medical center is bound to happen somewhere else, too. We need to be ready. And a number of my officers pulled a double shift and need to go home and get some sleep.”

“I think the two of us could use a little of that ourselves.”

Casey looked pensive and seemed to be lost in thought. “I keep asking myself what kind of heartless loser could use that kind of firepower on unarmed teenagers.”

Jude’s mind flashed back to those terrifying moments after the shooting, when he thought Deshawn Macey was bleeding out. “Since both sets of kids claim they ran into each other by accident, I’m thinking it was one of the teenagers. The odds are pretty slim that someone else just happened to be in the park packing a .357 Magnum and decided to open fire.”

“I agree. So why didn’t at least one of the kids give up the shooter?” Casey said.

“I can only think of two reasons. Either they really didn’t know who did it. Or we didn’t lean on them hard enough.” Jude took off his dark glasses and wiped the sweat off his eyelids with the back of his hand. “The kids we arrested for threatening to hang that African-American kid deny knowing anything about it, even after we offered a deal to the first one who gave us the shooter. Maybe their lawyers will get them to wise up. Being charged with a hate crime is serious, and none of them have any priors.”

Zoe glanced over at Pierce and tried to look past his stony expression. She didn’t dare think about how she had broken his heart or the fact that they had no future together. All she could allow herself to think about was surviving this ordeal.

Did Pierce seem willing to go along with the plan Ethan suggested? What if it backfired? What if Shapiro could somehow track what they were doing? What if he had some sophisticated technology they didn’t know about? He was a serious drug dealer with a serious grudge he’d been nursing for a long time. What was to stop him from executing all four of them when he realized he wasn’t getting his money?

She thought back to the dreadful moments in the woods when he held a knife to her cheek and cut it ever so carefully, just to make his point. Was that the action of a man who was bluffing? She shuddered.

“Look, I know we’re all scared,” Ethan said. “I think this plan will give you a way to stay under the radar until the sheriff can advise you what to do. If we do it right, I don’t see how Shapiro could know where you are. It’ll buy you some time.”

“Or we could just go to the sheriff and trust him to protect us.” Pierce folded his hands on the table.

“For how long?” Vanessa said. “The authorities are focused on the hate crimes. I’m not sure they have the personnel to protect you—or even to look for Shapiro, since he claims that’s not his real name.”

“Do you have a gun?” Ethan said.

Pierce shook his head. “I’ve never even fired one.”

“I’ve got pepper spray,” Zoe said.

Ethan leaned forward on his elbows and moved his gaze from Pierce to Zoe and back to Pierce. “You need to decide if you want to do this or not. I can borrow the van until five. I probably should go get things ready.”

Vanessa put her hands on Zoe’s. “I know it’s not foolproof. But it could be the last thing Shapiro’s expecting you to do. If we act quickly, we might pull it off.”

“It’s the
might
part that worries me,” Pierce said.

Vanessa glanced over at Ethan. “We aren’t without help. I think we should pray.”

“God isn’t going to bail us out,” Pierce said. “It’s Zoe’s lies that got us into this mess.”

“Well, the Lord specializes in messes,” Ethan said. “It’s when we’re rendered helpless that we can really see His power at work. When we can’t, He
can.
I say we ask Him.”

Vanessa and Ethan held hands and extended their free hands to Zoe and Pierce.

“Father,” Ethan said, “You are mighty and powerful and stronger than anyone who would seek to hurt us. We feel scared and vulnerable. And yet we know that we’re never out of Your sight—not for a second—and that Your plan for us cannot be thwarted. Mistakes have been made, Lord. We admit that and know those things will need to be dealt with later. But right now we need Your help. Father, guide us. Protect us. Give us wisdom to act responsibly—to be gentle as lambs and shrewd as serpents. Let Your power be made evident in our weakness. Let there be no doubt that You are Lord of everything, even our messes, and will use even those to accomplish Your purposes. We pray these things in the name of Your Son and our Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen.”

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