False Pretenses (28 page)

CHAPTER 29

Zoe lay on the air mattress in the back bedroom at Langley Manor, her eyes focused on the crystal-globe light fixture on the ceiling, her hearing intent on the rain pelting the windows. Why was she too lethargic to get up and make herself a sandwich, even though it might settle her stomach? She had felt sick all morning and was afraid she might throw up. What then? It’s not as though she could flush the toilet. How much longer could her body hold up under this level of stress?

Pierce lay on his side on the other air mattress, seemingly staring at nothing. Their silence was a presence in the room, like some sort of truth police just waiting for a chance to interrogate her. All she needed was another guilt trip. Did she need any more reminders of how miserably she had failed?

A loud ringing startled her, and she realized it was the cell phone. She reached over and grabbed it and put it to her ear.

“Vanessa! Where have you been?”

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Zoe Benoit Broussard.”

The voice was unmistakably Cowan’s. Her skin turned to goose flesh. She locked gazes with Pierce and put it on speakerphone.

“Surprised to hear from me?” Cowan laughed. “I’d love to see the expression on your face. Did you think you could get away from me?”

Pierce slid his index finger across his throat. “Don’t talk to him,” he whispered. “Tell him he has the wrong number and hang up.”

“Excuse me, who is this?” Zoe said.

“You know exactly who it is. I’m the guy that’s going to make a totem pole of you, if you don’t have my hundred grand ready to wire before the banks close. I told you I would call you and give you an account number. Get out your pencil and—”

“I’m sorry, you have the wrong number.” Zoe disconnected the call and dropped the phone on the air mattress, her hands shaking. “How d-did he get this number?”

Pierce jumped to his feet. “He could only have gotten it from Vanessa or Ethan. And since Vanessa’s missing, we have to assume he got her to talk.”

The phone rang again. Both she and Pierce stared at it.

“Just let it ring,” he said.

“I don’t think we should make him mad.” Zoe brushed the hair out of her eyes. “I’m sure he recognized my voice. We’re not fooling him.”

“He’s manipulative, Zoe. I don’t want you talking to him. I don’t like it one bit that he was able to get this number.”

“You think Vanessa told him where we are? Maybe we should leave.”

“And go where?” Pierce’s eyebrows came together. “Cowan wants his money. He’s not going to jeopardize that until the deadline. I don’t think we have any choice but to wait for Jude’s deputies to get here.”

Vanessa trudged forward on the narrow path between cane stalks, her shoes getting hung up in the cumbersome weeds, the rain drenching her and making it hard to see. At least Shapiro would be having the same problem. How deep was she into the field? How much farther to the other side? What if she couldn’t find her way out? What if she was trapped in here?

Trapped?
Vanessa took a shallow breath. And then another. And another. Why did it feel as if her throat were closing off? Why couldn’t she get air? Her pulse raced. She could not afford a panic attack. Not here. Not now.

You can do this. You have to do this. Don’t give in to claustrophobia. Think about where you’re going—not where you are.

Vanessa kept moving, her hands in front of her, keeping the wet leaves from slapping her face.

She had told Ethan over three hours ago that she was going to Rouses Market and use the pay phone to call Zoe. Surely he had called her cell number since, worried that she hadn’t returned his calls. And wouldn’t Lindsay Corbin have called him when she didn’t show to pick up Carter? Was Ethan concerned enough to call the sheriff? Had he figured out that the man whose stares made her uncomfortable was Shapiro?

Lord, it’s just You and me.

At least the rain had temporarily stopped the mosquitoes from feasting on her—a welcome relief, considering the other discomforts she was forced to endure. But when the storm was over, wouldn’t all her exposed skin become a banquet table for every biting insect?

Her shoes were soggy, and her big toe throbbed. Was she getting a blister? What had made her put on walking shoes this morning and not sandals? How could she have ever walked through this sugarcane field in sandals?

The rain let up considerably, and she picked up her pace and emptied her mind of how miserable she was, trying to stay focused on how much closer she might be to getting out of the sugarcane field and onto the Langley property.

Jude sat in his squad car in the private parking area behind Zoe B’s and keyed in the number for Ethan Langley’s cell phone. It only rang once.

“Hello.”

“Ethan, it’s Sheriff Prejean. Vanessa’s not in your apartment or at Zoe B’s. But Savannah Surette, one of the waitresses, said that just before nine this morning, a customer reported that the back door to the building was left wide open. I’ve got my deputies dusting for prints and looking for trace evidence. As of twenty minutes ago, Pierce and Zoe still hadn’t heard from Vanessa.”

“Something’s terribly wrong, Sheriff. You have to find her!”

“I will. But don’t assume the worst. There could be a logical explanation for Vanessa’s not being able to call you.”

“I can’t think of any. She’d find a phone, unless she was involved in an accident or—”

“Look, Ethan, don’t go there. Zoe and Pierce have until the banks close to get the money ready to wire. Right now, we have to assume that Cowan thinks that’s what they’re in the process of doing.”

“Or maybe he forced Vanessa to tell him what they’re really doing,” Ethan said. “At which point, she becomes dispensable. Sheriff, I’ve been around Vanessa’s mother too long to beat around the bush. Just talk straight with me. I know that’s what you’re thinking.”

“It would be a mistake to try and read my mind, Ethan. I don’t like the smell of this either, but there are a number of possibilities. I’ve been doing this job too long to jump the gun. I’ve apprised Police Chief Norman of the situation and put out an APB on Vanessa and on Cowen. And we’re trying to track her cell phone. The best thing you can do is go home and wait for me to call with updates.”

“All right. I’m just pulling up in front of the Corbins’ house,” Ethan said. “I’ll be home with Carter in fifteen minutes.”

“I’ve got to head out to Roux River Park. We’ve been on the verge of a race riot for days, but with Remy’s funeral Mass tomorrow, it’s about to blow up. We’ve brought in officers from New Iberia, Lafayette, Morgan City, and Franklin. I’ve been asked to do a press conference in twenty minutes. Don’t worry. I won’t let up on finding Vanessa. And as soon as I can spare them, I’m sending two deputies out to the manor house to stay with Zoe and Pierce. If you hear from Vanessa, I want to know immediately.”

Vanessa stopped to rest, her wounded shoulder hot and throbbing. She examined the bleeding scratches on her arms and hands and wondered if she had been able to keep her face from looking as if she’d been whipped.

Rain continued to fall. At least it was cooler and she wasn’t bothered by insects at the moment. How much farther could it be until she came out on the other side?

She started to take a step and froze. What was
that
noise? She crouched down and listened intently, rain rolling down her back. Had she imagined it? It almost sounded like a dog’s bark—but in the middle of a cane field? Was it a wild animal?

Father, help! You directed all those animals to the ark, surely you can send this one to the opposite end of the cane field.

There it was again—not a dog’s bark. A man’s hearty sneeze! Did it come from behind her or ahead of her—to the right or to the left? Was it Shapiro tracking her? Or could it have been a field worker? Had she come to the road?

She didn’t move. Or breathe. She heard another sound. It was getting louder. Finally she recognized it as the same sound she had been making—shoes sloshing on the wet ground. She crouched lower, hugging her knees, fear boxing her heart like a punching bag. Through the cane stalks, she spotted a glint of blue and a pair of hairy legs—distinctly Shapiro’s—about two rows over. Had he been following her? Or was he merely searching?

The Broussards’ prepaid cell phone rang. Pierce groped for it and put it to his ear.

“Hello.”

“Pierce, it’s Ethan. Have you heard from Vanessa yet?”

“No. Jude called and told us she wasn’t returning your calls. I’m so sorry, man. We should’ve never let you get involved in this.”

“Hey, it was our choice. We wanted to help. There might be a good explanation for why Vanessa isn’t returning my calls. But to be on the safe side, the sheriff put out an APB on her and on Cowen. They’re also going to track her cell phone.”

“This whole thing seems surreal.”

“Sure does,” Ethan said.

“Did you pick Carter up at the Corbins’?”

“I did. Poor little guy was ready to come home. He’s confused why Mommy isn’t here. I really don’t know what to tell him.”

Pierce heard the angst between the lines and shot Zoe a disgusted look he was sure would remind her that this was all her fault.

“Have you heard anything about the racial problem brewing at Roux River Park?” Ethan said.

“What now? Here, let me put this on speaker so Zoe can hear. Go ahead.”

“I don’t have details,” Ethan said, “but the sheriff has requested officers from three or four departments to help curb the racial unrest. I guess with Remy Jarvis’s funeral tomorrow, it’s about to go over the top.”