False Pretenses (24 page)

Jude sat at the desk in his office, having his first cup of coffee before the day went into high gear. He had checked with Deputy Castille the minute he arrived at work and was advised that Deshawn Macey was still in critical condition and the situation at the medical center had intensified. The number of demonstrators, black and white, continued to increase—as did the media presence. Several white demonstrators had pelted police with produce and were charged with disorderly conduct, and two black youths were arrested after a tire-slashing spree in the medical center parking lot.

Officers arrived earlier in the morning from the Lafayette, New Iberia, and Morgan City PDs to help maintain order. The Franklin PD was sending officers tomorrow to assist in keeping the peace during Remy Jarvis’s memorial Mass at Saint Catherine’s, which was also being televised on a large screen in the Saint Catherine’s High School gym.

Jude glanced out the window. The traffic was bumper-to-bumper on Courthouse Boulevard. The media was a big pain in the neck that only added to the traffic congestion caused by the high volume of tourists. It wasn’t as though the media came to report the news. Reporters seemed more interested in human-interest stories that reinforced their opinions of the situation, their preconceived notions.

His intercom buzzed, followed by his administrative assistant’s voice.

“Sheriff, there’s a call for you—a Pierce Broussard. Says it’s urgent, but he won’t say what it’s about. I tried giving him to Deputy Chief Rivette, but he insisted on speaking to you.”

“It’s okay, Lisa. I’ll take it.”

“He’s on line one, sir.”

“Thanks.”

Jude took a sip of coffee. What was so urgent that Pierce wouldn’t talk to anyone else? He put the receiver to his ear and pressed the flashing button. “Hello, Pierce.”

“Jude! Thank heavens. I’ve been trying to reach you since yesterday afternoon.”

“Really? I didn’t see any messages.”

“Actually, I didn’t leave messages.”

“How can I help you?”

Pierce exhaled into the phone. “Zoe and I are caught in a dangerous situation, and we’re not sure what to do. We’ve been hiding since yesterday afternoon.”

“Hiding from whom?”

“It’s so complicated. I hardly know where to begin.”

“Start at the beginning. Tell me everything.”

“I need to tell you the ending first,” Pierce said, “and then I’ll back it up. A drug dealer named Angus Shapiro—that’s not his real name—accosted Zoe. He claims her parents owed him a hundred thousand dollars before they died, and he’s come to collect.”

“And they didn’t?”

“No, her parents are alive. He’s got the wrong person. Zoe changed her name ten years ago from Shelby Sieger to Zoe Benoit. This guy thinks she’s the daughter of Pierre and Violet Benoit, who were heroine dealers. He wants her to have a hundred thousand dollars ready to wire to his account by the time the banks close today—or he’s threatened to kill her
and
me. He said if we went to the authorities or told someone who did, he would know, and it would be the last thing we ever did. So we found a place to hide out and have been trying to get in touch with you on a prepaid cell phone. There’s no way he’s going to let us live, whether we pay him or not—”

“Pierce, wait. Slow down. Where are you?”

“I don’t think it’s safe to tell you that. Just hear us out. I’m going to put Zoe on and let her tell you the whole story.”

CHAPTER 25

Vanessa walked out the front door of Zoe B’s and leaned against the building, the traffic along
rue Madeline
surprisingly heavy, even for the morning rush hour. She keyed in the fast-dial number for Ethan’s cell phone. It rang once. Twice. Three times.

Come on, pick up!

“Hey there,” Ethan said. “I was just about to call you before I begin my first counseling session. I talked to Pierce about an hour ago. He still hadn’t reached the sheriff. He sounded stressed. I can only imagine how hard it is for him being confined with Zoe under these circumstances.”

“No kidding. Did either of them sleep?”

“Off and on. They appreciate the air mattresses and the fan. At least they’re as comfortable as they’re going to get under these circumstances.”

“I’m glad for that. I’ll call Zoe from the pay phone at Rouses Market before I pick up Carter. I’m going to be a nervous wreck until this is over.”

“Well, I don’t see any way it’ll be over today. Zoe and Pierce might have to stay put for a while.”

“Let’s hope not. Maybe the sheriff has an idea we haven’t thought of.”

“Honey, are you okay? You sound funny.”

“I’m fine. I just had a creepy thing happen.” Vanessa glanced over at a family of tourists dressed in Roux River Bayou T-shirts, walking into Zoe B’s. “I was having breakfast at the eatery, and a man at another table kept staring at me. It was so annoying that I finally stared back, thinking he would get embarrassed and look away. He didn’t.”

“I’m sure he thought you were attractive. You should be used to that by now.”

“No, this was different. It almost felt threatening.”

“Threatening? Did he say anything?”

Vanessa sighed. “No. This sounds pretty silly, now that I say it out loud. He just gave me the creeps, that’s all. I’m probably overreacting.”

“Don’t be so quick to blow off your instincts. Where are you?”

“Standing in front of Zoe B’s. I think I’ll walk around the building to my car so I don’t have to go back in.”

“Good. Make sure he doesn’t follow you. I’ll stay on the line until you’re inside your car.”

“All right. I’m walking. I can’t believe how hot it is already.”

“I know,” Ethan said. “I thought Tennessee summers were hot. But the humidity is something else.”

“I miss having a place to take Carter swimming.”

“Maybe we should consider buying a family pass to the pool at Roux River Park. I heard it’s nice.”

“I’d love that. It would give me something to do outside with Carter when it’s so hot.”

“Why don’t you find out what we need to do to buy a pass? It can’t be that expensive. Let’s just do it.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Vanessa stopped at the car and glanced over her shoulder. “Okay, I’m getting in my car now. I love you.”

“I love you, too. Let me know if you find out anything after you talk to Zoe.”

“I will.”

Vanessa slid in behind the wheel and locked the car. One quick stop at a pay phone to talk to Zoe—and then she would pick up Carter. She could hardly wait to see him.

She started the car and glanced in the rearview mirror, surprised to see the back door of the building left wide open. How did that happen? Weren’t she and Ethan the only two besides Zoe and Pierce who had keys to that door?

She heard a rustling sound in the backseat, then felt something tighten around her neck, closing off her windpipe. She tried to grab the cord or strap or whatever it was but it seemed to tighten like a vice as she screamed without a voice and clawed frantically at the hairy wrists and the hands of the attacker who held it there. She heard herself making choking sounds and wondered if she was about to be raped or killed—or both.

Lord, help me! Help me!

“Stop fighting!” he ordered. “And I’ll let go. Make any attempt to scream or call for help, and we’ll hurt your kid. You don’t want to test me on this. I’ve got a real mean streak and zero tolerance.”

Vanessa felt the pressure subside and began to gasp, desperately trying to inhale. After several tries, she sucked in air, then began to cough violently for what seemed an eternity, finally able to catch her breath—and a glimpse in the rearview mirror of those same creepy eyes she had seen in Zoe B’s.

“Don’t … hurt … my son,” she begged. “Please.”

“Well now, that’s entirely up to you—and whether or not you’re willing to tell me what I want to know.”

Jude listened to every word Zoe Broussard told him and then turned off the recorder and sat back in his chair.

“Did you get all that on tape?” she asked.

“I did. Is Pierce still there?”

“I’m here.”

“I don’t need to tell you two how serious this is. You were smart to hide.” Jude glanced at his watch. “I imagine this guy has already figured out you’ve pulled a fast one. He’s going to do everything he can to find out where you are. Does anyone know besides the Langleys?”

“No,” Zoe said. “And if he’s monitoring our phone calls, he won’t find any calls made to us by Vanessa or Ethan.”

“But if there isn’t
any
activity on your cells or your land line, that alone will be red flag.”

Zoe sighed. “I didn’t think of that.”

“Since he doesn’t know where you are, my guess is he’s going to try to force your whereabouts out of someone.”

“But that’s why we didn’t tell anyone!” Zoe said. “Not even our staff.”

“He doesn’t know that.” Jude shook his head. “The timing on this couldn’t be worse. With all that’s going on with the hanging and the shooting and Remy’s funeral tomorrow, I simply can’t spare the resources to protect you.”

“We understand,” Zoe said. “Vanessa told us you probably wouldn’t. That’s why Ethan thought we should hide before Shapiro got suspicious. We figured we’d be safe here for a few days.”

Jude raked his hands through his hair. Of all times to be stretched to the limit. “Are you going to tell me where you are?”

“Can you promise us there’s no way Shapiro can find out?” she said.

“Absolutely.”

“We’re out at Langley Manor,” Pierce said. “Ethan set us up in the back bedroom on the ground level—we’ve got sleeping bags, food and water, even a battery-operated fan. No one can see the light on from the front of the house. Not even your patrol.”

“Which I’ve had to temporarily suspend,” Jude said. “Every available officer is needed to keep the peace and help investigate.”

“What do you suggest we do?” Pierce said.

“Stay put and lay low. Zoe, the clothes you had on the night Shapiro threatened you … have you washed them?”

“No, they’re in the laundry hamper in our bathroom.”

“Good. I’d like your permission to go in and retrieve them. We might find valuable DNA on them that could tell us who this guy is.”

“All right. I was wearing red capris and a red-and-white floral tank top. You can’t miss them. There’s mud all over the back. And Shapiro smeared my blood across the front of the tank top with his finger. My Nikes are in the closet. The soles have mud caked on them.”

“What about the notes Shapiro left you?”

“They’re stacked neatly in my lingerie drawer. Take those, too. Jude, come to think of it, he might have touched the door to the office when he slipped a couple of the notes under the door.”

“We’ll dust for prints, but our best chance of getting usable DNA is your clothes and those notes.”

Vanessa broke out in a cold sweat, her heart pounding with raw terror. She finally stopped panting and tried to breathe normally.

“We haven’t officially met,” the man said. “The name’s Shapiro.”

“What do … you … want?”

“Tell me where I can find Zoe and Pierce Broussard.”

“They’ve been gone … all weekend,” Vanessa said.

“Why didn’t they take their cell phones?”

“I don’t know. Maybe they wanted … some time alone.”

“Well, the weekend’s over. Why aren’t they back?”

“You should ask the people who work for them.”

“I’m asking
you
.” Shapiro grabbed her by the hair and held her tightly against the headrest, pressing a knife blade to her throat. “I promise you, you do not want to mess with me. If you want to see your kid alive, you’d better start talking.”

How could he know where Carter was? Should she give up Zoe and Pierce, just like that, knowing he would kill them? The image of Zoe’s bleeding face popped into her mind and made her shudder. Would he cut her, too, until she talked—and then kill her the minute she told him what he wanted?

Lord, please help me! I don’t know what to do!

“Well?” She felt a sting and realized he was cutting her neck ever so slightly with the knife blade. She felt as if she were going to lose her breakfast.

She clamped her eyes shut. “Please … I can’t tell you what I don’t know.”

“Then tell me what you
do
know.” His voice was deep and raspy. No hint of the Texas accent Zoe described. “Where did the Broussards go? If you want to go on living and get your kid back unharmed, tell me now!”

Vanessa trembled, a drop of perspiration trickling down her temple. There was no way Shapiro knew where Carter was. Wouldn’t he have had to follow Ricky’s parents home after they picked him up on Sunday? Why would he do that before he even had a reason to suspect Zoe and Pierce weren’t going to give him the money? Surely he was bluffing.

“Where
are
they?” Shapiro said. “I’m running out of patience!”

“The Broussards are my landlords. I’ve only known them a few weeks. Why would they tell
me
their plans?”

“You live across the hall from them. People always tell a neighbor when they’re going to be out of town.”

“I hardly know them.” Could he tell her heart was nearly pounding out of her chest? “If I knew where they were, why would I risk my son’s life—or mine—by not telling you?”

“Beats me. But you’re lying.”

“Why would I lie?”
You’ll kill us all, that’s why.
“It makes no sense! Please, I’m begging you—you’re making a huge mistake. I can’t tell you something I don’t know.”

“Have it your way, Vanessa. This is going to get very unpleasant. But you
are
going to tell me where they went. Hand me your cell phone.”

Vanessa picked up her cell phone, her hand shaking, and passed it back to Shapiro. Would he figure out the anonymous caller number she entered in the directory was the Broussards’ prepaid cell number? Would he think to look for that?

“Now start the car!”

“Where are we going?”

“Shut up. Just do what I say.”