False Pretenses (32 page)

“I think Mom’s feelings are hurt that we didn’t call and ask her advice before we got involved in something this risky. But even though neither of them said it, I think Mom and Dad are proud of us for being Good Samaritans.”

“I never thought of it that way. I’ll have to use that angle when I tell
my
parents about the first guests we hosted at Langley Manor.” Ethan picked up her hand and brought it to his cheek. “I can’t believe how close I came to losing you. Now I understand how you felt when Drew’s killer was after me and all you could do was pray and trust the Lord.”

“That was the longest day of my life.”

“I think this was the longest day of mine.”

Vanessa sat with Ethan in the stillness for a few moments and then said, “I wonder how Zoe and Pierce are doing. You think they’ll go home together?”

Ethan shook his head. “I doubt it. Pierce said something about going to stay with his parents. I wish he’d stay here with Zoe and work it out. Separating might be the beginning of the end.”

“That would be sad.” Vanessa sighed. “They really do love each other.”

“Zoe’s betrayal was pretty serious, honey. Pierce might not be able to get through this by himself.”

“Are you thinking of counseling him?”

“I’m certainly willing, but he might not open up with me.”

The nurse pranced in the room. “How are you feeling, doll?”

“I’m starting to hurt again.”

“Well, it’s time for another shot of Demerol. I’ve got it right here.” The fifty-something bottle redhead washed her hands with sanitizer and put on plastic gloves, then came over to Vanessa’s venocath and injected the pain medicine. “This should take the edge off in no time. By the way, if you’re still doing well in the morning, the doctor is going to release you.”

“That’s great news,” Ethan said. “Our four-year-old will be so glad. He really misses his mom.”

“I just hope the sight of me covered with scratches doesn’t scare him to death.”

“Okay, doll. That’ll probably make you drowsy. Get some rest. Use your call button if you need something.” The nurse left as quickly as she had come.

“Before I get too sleepy,” Vanessa said, “tell me what the sheriff is doing about Noah Washington.”

“Nothing, since we decided not to press charges. They were going to get his statement and let him go.”

“What else could we do?” Vanessa said. “He saved our lives.”

Ethan arched his eyebrows. “He’s also guilty of trespassing. I don’t think we should let that go unaddressed. I’d like to hear his explanation.”

“Me too. But I also want to hear everything his great-grandmother told him about Langley Manor. Those tunnels are your family’s legacy, Ethan. Langley Manor can be so much more than a bed-and-breakfast now. It’s a memorial to the brave souls, black and white, who manned it as a station on the Underground Railroad. Our guests will love knowing that.”

Ethan smiled. “
I
love knowing that. My dad and uncles are going to be amazed. I don’t think there’s any written record of this. Noah Washington may be our only link to the past.”

“How will we get in touch with him?”

All of the expression left Ethan’s face. “I have no idea. I hope the sheriff does.”

CHAPTER 33

Jude followed Aimee into interview room three, where Noah Washington had been with his deputies for the past couple hours, answering questions.

“Mr. Washington, I’m Sheriff Jude Prejean and this is Deputy Chief Aimee Rivette. I know you’ve talked to my deputies at length about what happened today at Langley Manor, but I’d like to talk with you myself.”

“Yes, sir. What else do you need to know?”

Jude sat next to Aimee and opposite Noah, his hands clasped on the table. “Vanessa and Ethan Langley have opted not to press charges against you for trespassing.”

“I’m grateful.”

“You should be.”

Noah lifted his gaze, his dark eyes wide. “No harm came to anyone because I stayed in that empty house. I jus’ needed a place to light for a while.”

“How’d you even know it was vacant?”

“I didn’t till I got there. My only plan was to see the place I’d heard so much about. I’ve pretty much lost everything. I was lookin’ for some kinda connection.”

“You told Vanessa that your great-grandmother’s great-grandmother, Naomi, was a slave at Langley Manor. And that the Langleys were involved in the Underground Railroad.”

“That’s true, sir.”

“Is that a matter of public record?”

“I couldn’t say. I learned it growin’ up. My great-grandma G. G. learned it when she was growin’ up. But why would my people put the slave owners in a good light, if it wasn’t true?”

“Did you think that because your ancestors lived at Langley Manor you had the right to let yourself in?”

Noah hung his head. “No, sir. I just didn’t have any place else to go. I didn’t hurt anything by comin’ and goin’ through the tunnels. I was amazed they were still there, jus’ like G. G. said.”

Jude noticed the lettering on Noah’s dirty T-shirt—
Bourbon Street
. “Why don’t you have anywhere else to go? Where are you from?”

“New Awlins. Lost my home in Katrina. Didn’t have flood insurance. Lost my job, too.”

“Why didn’t the government relocate you?”

“I didn’t ask ’em to.”

“Do you have family?”

Noah’s eyes were suddenly dark pools, and he seemed far away. “Uh, no. Not really. My wife and teenage daughters were swept away before rescuers could get to us. I don’t really have anyone.”

“I suppose you know you have resources that can help you get on your feet—like the Red Cross or the Salvation Army or Catholic Charities?”

“I do. But mostly I try to make it by myself.”

“I can appreciate that,” Jude said. “But since you don’t have anywhere to stay, you’re
not
making it by yourself. You really need to reach out and let one of these agencies help you before you do something unlawful and the other party does press charges. Or maybe that’s what you want—to end up in jail? I promise you there are better ways to find food, clothing, and shelter.”

“If I was lookin’ to go to jail, I’d have been there a long time ago. I’m just down on my luck at the moment.”

Jude leaned forward on his elbows. “Why’d you decide to help Mrs. Langley and the Broussards? You could’ve stayed hidden in the tunnel and let things play out.”

“I figured Josiah Langley helped my ancestors, I should help his. I knew the tunnel was their ticket out. I couldn’t just let ’em get shot.”

Jude studied Noah’s relaxed demeanor. Was he telling the truth—or was he just a practiced con man?

“I’d like to shift gears and talk about something we found on the property adjacent to the Langleys’. Seems a shoe print we cast near the scene of a murder turned out to be a size nine Sears and Roebuck loafer like the one you’re wearing.”

“I know about the hangin’. I was on that land a couple days before.”

“Really?” Jude laid today’s mug shot of Reagan Cowen on the table. “Do you know this man?”

“No, sir.”

“Name’s Reagan Cowan. Ring a bell?”

“Sure does. He’s the fella who was chasin’ after Vanessa Langley and who followed us through the tunnel. I never did see his face.”

“And you never heard his name before today?”

“No, sir.” Noah scratched his chin. “I overheard the Broussards say his name after they talked with someone on the cell phone this mornin’.”

“But you never met the man?”

“No, never did.”

Jude picked up a pencil and bounced the eraser on the table. “What possible reason would you have for being on the Vincent property?”

“I was searchin’ for a house. G. G. mentioned that Abigail Langley’s brother had built him a house a couple hundred yards down the bayou from the manor house. Some of my ancestors were slaves there, too, but he wasn’t sympathetic to the Underground Railroad. Didn’t know his sister was either. I just wanted to see it.”

“Are you referring to that old farmhouse?”

“No, that place is nothin’ like G. G. described. She said it was a two-story plantation house with a porch all around. I’m guessin’ it’s been tore down. I walked all over the property and didn’t see it.”

Jude mused. “So, just to be clear, you’re saying you were
not
on the Vincent property Wednesday morning, July twenty-seventh and had no knowledge of Remy Jarvis’s hanging—or the note left on Deputy Castille’s windshield?”

“That’s exactly what I’m sayin’, sir. I’m guilty of trespassin’ at both places, but I don’t know this Cowan fella, and I sure wasn’t involved in any hangin’.”

Jude glanced over at Aimee. The look on her face told him she believed Noah and didn’t think they were going to get any new information from him.

“All right. I think we’re done here. Mr. Washington, you’re free to go. But I want you to stay in Les Barbes until we sort this out. Monsignor Robidoux at Saint Catherine’s has already made room for you at Haven House. You can shower and shave and get some clean clothes. The place is cool and comfortable. And the food’s not bad either.”

Noah gave a nod. “Thank you, sir. Sounds mighty good ’bout now.”

“Wait here and I’ll have one of my deputies take you over there.” Jude stood. “Oh … I could tell when I spoke with the Langleys that they’re eager to talk to you about Josiah Langley’s involvement in the Underground Railroad.”

“I really don’t know much else.”

“Well, they felt a connection. Maybe you have more to offer than you think.”

Zoe stood at the railing on the gallery outside her apartment, trying not to think about Pierce packing his bags.

She looked out at the crimson sky and inhaled the sweet aroma of caramel corn coming from Kernel Poppy’s. She heard Cajun music playing at Breaux’s. And the street vendor chanting his mantra, “Andouille corn dogs. Best in da bayou.”

Across the street, on the gallery above the Coy Cajun Gift Shop, Madame Duval waved from a wrought-iron table, where she sat sipping a mint julep, her cat, Juniper, curled up next to the glass pitcher.

Was this special community that had received her with open arms about to turn its back? Could she manage Zoe B’s without Pierce? Could she afford to hire a chef and, at the same time, pay Mrs. Woodmore a thousand dollars a month? Did it even matter? How long would it be before some ambitious reporter found a “source” in the sheriff’s department, willing to reveal details of her past? Or before Pierce, disillusioned and angry, was willing to tell his story?

A horse-drawn carriage stopped in front of the Hotel Peltier, and a bride and groom stepped off the carriage and walked hand in hand through the revolving door. Was their reception taking place there—or were they checking in to spend their first night as husband and wife? Her mind flashed back five years, to the evening of June fifth.…

Pierce lifted her into his arms, bunching her long, lacy wedding veil in her lap, and carried her across the threshold of the bridal suite at the Hotel Peltier. He closed the door with his foot, then set her down and positioned the veil so it draped down her back.

He looked adoringly into her eyes, his hands cupping her face. “I give you my heart, Zoe Broussard. I promise there will never—ever—be anyone else. You are everything my heart desires. Now and forever.”

As their lips melted together, her conscience squirmed with the knowledge that she had won his love by pretending to be someone she wasn’t. She quickly dismissed it. Wasn’t her love genuine, her devotion sincere? Why should she let the past rule the present or the future?

She pulled her lips back from his just far enough to say, “I never knew I could love any man the way I love you. You are my soul mate. The one—the only one—I will ever love.”

As Pierce slowly unleashed the passion he had restrained during their engagement, she responded freely and eagerly, feeling none of the fear or revulsion she had associated with her father’s abusive advances. Why should she? Shelby Sieger no longer existed.

The next day, she and Pierce flew to Grand Cayman, a wedding gift from his many aunts and uncles. They spent their days bathed in the warm, shimmering green waters of the Caribbean Sea, their nights enchanted by the showcase of dazzling diamonds spilled across the black velvet heavens—and the ecstasy of two becoming one.…

“I’m leaving now.” Pierce’s voice startled her, and she remembered where she was and what was about to happen. “I’ll call and let the phone ring once when I get to Mom and Dad’s—so you’ll know I made it.”

“I wish you would stay—and work this out together.”

“I can’t, Zoe. Not now. I need to be by myself and think.”

Zoe swallowed the fear and sadness that threatened to steal her voice. Did this man who had once declared she was his heart’s desire now feel so betrayed by her that he would never recover? She breathed in slowly, then turned around, trying not to look as desperate as she felt.

“At least you’re willing to think about it,” she said.

“It’s not like I asked for this, Zoe. How are we supposed to live together when I can’t trust you? It was humiliating enough to realize I’d been duped. Do you really think I can allow myself to be that vulnerable again?”

Zoe took a step closer to him. “I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t trust me again. But I want you to know that you
can.
You know everything now. I have no secrets to protect.”

He rolled his eyes. “Like I could tell if you did. I just wanted you to know I’m leaving. Don’t call me, Zoe. When I’ve got something to say, I’ll let you know.” He turned around and disappeared through the living room. She heard the front door open and close and listened to his footsteps as he walked away.

“I love you,
cher
,” she whispered, salty puddles clouding her vision. “You’re never coming back to me.”