Margaux licked her lips and shifted on the sofa, spreading her legs just a little wider. “Adrienne is something of a mama’s girl. I can’t imagine her doing anything like this. Maybe she had an accident. Have you checked the hospitals?”
No, but Adam had checked every hospital in a fifty-mile radius on Friday afternoon while he was busy driving to Louisiana. Nothing. No Adrienne Hough, no Adrienne Stenberg, no teenage Jane Doe with blond hair.
Ruben had checked every police department, state trooper, sheriff, or constable—with the same results.
This girl almost seemed excited at the possibility that Adrienne had managed to disappear for a couple of days.
Margaux shifted again and her knee rested against his. The heat of her skin radiated through his jeans, and the bold look in her eyes told him she knew exactly what she was doing.
Remy shot to his feet. “Gabby,” he called toward the kitchen. “We need to get moving.” He’d like to tell her mama it was time to give Margaux a ‘Come to Jesus’ talk, but he might need to ask her more questions later.
Behind him on the couch, Margaux laughed, and the sound made his skin crawl.
The second Gabby entered the room he offered a quick “Thanks for your help” to Margaux, then took Gabby’s hand and fled for the car.
“What’s your hurry? Did you find out something? I didn’t have a chance to check all the rooms.” Gabby almost stumbled trying to keep up with him.
“I needed to get out of that house. That girl is what my mother used to call a sex kitten. She practically threw herself at me. One step short of dragging me into her bedroom.”
Gabby rolled her eyes. “In your dreams, maybe.”
“You’ve got to be kidding. That girl’s the stuff of nightmares. She’s Adrienne’s friend?” He opened the passenger-side door and Gabby scooted in shaking her head.
“They were close for a long time, but I don’t hear Adrienne talking about her much these days. If they had a falling out or something, she never said anything to me. Margaux just seems to have drifted off the radar screen.”
Remy blew out a sigh of relief. That was the best news he’d had since his phone rang on Friday afternoon.
Remy’s heart barely had time to slow down before they coasted into the driveway of the next friend on Adrienne’s phone-list. Was he up to this? What had happened to teenage girls in seventeen years?
Gabby hadn’t been anything like Margaux, with her sexy clothes and her provocative manner. Gabby was more the girl-next-door type. Sweet, honest, thoughtful. Never one to play games. And, above all, his best friend.
Sure, he and Gabby might have gone too far at that age, but they had been together for three years before that happened. They’d known each other’s secrets, hopes, fears. They had held each other on Mother’s Day and Father’s Day when memories of lost parents threatened to overwhelm them.
He’d built up walls that even a cannon ball couldn’t breach. Yet Gabby’s soft words and warm heart had taught him to see the good in the world. She had cut through his defenses until she saw his true soul. And she had loved him anyway.
Until she didn’t anymore.
Remy shot a quick peek at Gabby as she chewed on her bottom lip. What was she so nervous about, Adrienne or something else?
As if reading his mind, Gabby gave a tiny shrug. “Claudine’s stepfather is kind of a jerk, so be careful. I get the feeling he’s not around much so hopefully he won’t be home.”
Remy dealt with jerks every day. He even worked with some. Gabby probably thought a cross word meant the end of the world. Sometimes being sweet could be a disadvantage. He didn’t have that problem.
He almost smiled as he helped Gabby out of the car.
If Margaux’s house was a couple of steps above Evie’s, Claudine’s was a complete staircase above both girls’. The 4,000-plus square foot mansion rested a mile or more out of town on at least an acre of land. In front, a manicured yard rolled to the street, and flowers filled scattered beds with a riot of color. But in the rear, the property backed up to the swamp. Remy spotted a skiff tied to a private dock as he marched up the driveway.
Gabby wouldn’t get a chance to use her ‘I need to take a pill,’ trick because Claudine was outside, climbing into a blue Honda. That meant they weren’t going to get a look inside, but he knew in his bones that Adrienne wasn’t hiding at a friend’s house. Still, he had to be sure one of them didn’t know something about his daughter’s whereabouts.
Claudine stood about five-two, with shoulder-length wavy hair several shades too blond to be natural. She obviously followed Margaux’s fashion code. Her T-shirt might have fit her two years earlier and her shorts only covered enough to keep her from getting arrested, but she didn’t ooze blatant sexuality the way Margaux did.
Gabby spoke up before the girl had time to shut her car door. “Hi, Claudine. This is Mr. Steinberg, Adrienne’s father. He wants to ask you some questions about the last time you spoke to Adrienne.”
“I don’t know where she is, Mrs. Hough,” Claudine said settling into the driver’s seat, and fastening her seat belt. “I would have told you by now if I did.”
Some of the tension eased in Remy’s shoulders. At least this girl seemed to have some manners. He placed his hand on the top edge of the Honda’s driver’s side door. The metal almost burned his skin, but he held on. “We know that, Claudine. We’re just trying to get a feel for Adrienne’s mood before she disappeared. Did she seem anxious? Depressed? Worried? Had she made any new friends lately?”
“She’s kind of kept to herself this year, really trying to get her grades up. She hangs around with that Evie a lot these days. Other than that, I don’t know what to tell you.” Remy felt a tug on his hand as the teen tried to close the car door, but he didn’t budge. She wasn’t getting away that easy.
“What about a boy? Is she seeing anyone?”
Claudine started fidgeting with her car keys. “I wouldn’t know anything about that.”
Every damn time. People either outright lied or omitted things they didn’t want to talk about. Did they think he was a fool? He could read body language faster than most people could read a book.
He leaned down to try and get her to stop playing with the damned keys and pay attention to him when he heard someone shout.
“Hey! What are you doing?” A big guy wearing cut-off jeans, flip-flops, and a thick covering of body hair leaned out the door of the house. “Get away from her before I call the police.”
Remy straightened. Sounded good to him. It might be time to get the locals involved. They had blown off Gabby. Let them try to give him the same treatment.
“Claudine’s stepfather,” Gabby whispered before lifting her head. “Hi, Dan. It’s Gabby Hough, Adrienne’s mother. Her father and I are just asking Claudine if she’s talked to Adrienne lately.”
Dan? Dan Cryer? Holy shit, the years hadn’t done him any favors. Dan didn’t appear to recognize him, but then the lout’s brain probably wasn’t big enough to store the names and faces of all those he’d terrorized over the years. Remy tamped back a surge of anger. Maybe if he pulled his pants down the memories would all come flooding back and the big bully would remember him. While he was at it, he could tell the jackass to kiss his lily-white ass.
“I said, ‘Back away.’” Cryer grabbed a shotgun from behind the front door and started across the lawn. “I don’t care who you are or what happened to your whore of a daughter. Get you hand off the car and your butt off my property or I’ll blow your balls off.”
Remy’s ears roared as blood rushed to his head. Now wasn’t the time. Finding Adrienne had to be his priority. But Cryer’s time would come. He promised himself that.
He put out his hands and twisted toward the man. “There’s no need to use that kind of language in front of these women.
We were just asking Claudine for her help.”
The idiot took another step his direction and leveled the shotgun at his chest. “And I said, ‘Get the fuck out of here.’”
Remy mentally counted to ten. He sure didn’t want to have to shoot the guy, not in front of his stepdaughter, or Gabby.
Heart pounding, he kept walking toward Cryer, his hands at his shoulders, palms out. He wasn’t the frightened little pipsqueak he’d been at eleven. “Come on, man. Her mother’s in a state about this. We won’t be but another minute.”
“You’re fucking right about that, asshole.”
Dan adjusted his grip on the shotgun as Remy slapped the barrel aside. In two moves, the big man was facedown on the ground with Remy’s knee in his back.
Remy leaned forward and whispered in his ear, “Ferme ta gueule, merde embulante. If you ever pull a weapon again on me or mine, I’ll stick it so far up your ass the coroner won’t be able to identify the pieces.” He kept his knee against Dan’s back as he unloaded the shotgun, tossing the shells in one direction and flinging the gun into a bed of azaleas.
Remember,” he continued, his voice a deep growl, “use that language in front of my wife again, and I’ll be back to discuss it.”
Remy twisted toward Claudine, now standing in the driveway, watching over the top of the car. Her face paled under a pound of makeup. “Is there anything you can think of that might help us? Any place Adrienne mentioned wanting to go?”
“N-no, s-sir,” Claudine stammered.
“Any boy who’d been coming around that she didn’t want her mother to know about?”
Claudine shook her head, but didn’t say anything.
“Well, then. Thank you for your time. Dan, it was a pleasure seeing you again.”
The aroma of hot asphalt, grass, and fear overcame the swamp stench as Remy pushed up, placing all his weight on the knee in Dan’s back.
The slimy son-of-a-bitch wouldn’t forget him this time.
Chapter 5
Gabby didn’t speak on the way to Sherri Lynn’s, the next stop on their interrogation route. Her hands were shaking and her voice probably was, too. Besides, what could she say to Remy? You shouldn’t have beat up that guy? That would have been a lie. The creep deserved everything he got. I didn’t know you could do that? Maybe. At least that would have been the truth. You shouldn’t have told Dan to shut his trap or called him a walking piece of shit? That was very true. Dan Cryer never forgot, and he never forgave.
Oh, and by the way, for someone who seemed so eager to sever the marital connection, when did I become your wife again?
She clasped her still-trembling hands in her lap and stared out the front window.
Remy didn’t take his eyes off the road as he spoke. “Would you like to get a cup of coffee, something to eat, before we try the next girl?”
Eat? How could she eat? Her stomach was in knots and her heart was about to punch a hole in her chest. “Don’t you think we should try to get to Sherri Lynn’s before Claudine or her father decides to call over there?”
“Claudine’s not going to say anything, not for a long time. And Dan is inside changing his underwear and trying to convince himself the last fifteen minutes never happened. The last thing he’ll ever do is tell anyone. Right now we’re both upset, and Sherri Lynn is our last chance. We need to calm down before we face her.”
Gabby sighed. Remy was right. They did need to settle down. “Papite’s is still on Pecan Street, and they still make the best shrimp po’boys in three parishes.”
“How’s their jambalaya?”
“A close second to mine.”
“Do you still use your grand-mère’s recipe?”
“You know it.”
Remy actually smiled. “Then I’ll wait for the best.”
“You bring my baby girl home, Remy, and I’ll cook you jambalaya, chicken in sauce piquante, and shrimp remoulade.”
“I’m going to hold you to that,” he said, pulling into the gravel parking lot in front of the restaurant.
She reached over to take his hand. “I’m serious, Remy. I’m counting on you. Bring my baby home to me.”
“I will, chère. I’ll bring her home for both of us.”
Inside the restaurant, a couple of tables still held old men passing time, but the lunch rush was over and only the aroma of Cajun spices remained as a hint to how busy the place had been only thirty minutes earlier.
Gabby led the way to a high-backed booth in the far corner. The vinyl seats were cracked and held together with duct tape, but their voices couldn’t be heard over the hum of the air conditioning unit. No point letting the whole parish in on their discussion.
She waited until the waiter left with their order before broaching the subject she’d debated sharing with Remy. “Starting something with Don Cryer might not have been the best idea. He’s not a very nice man and he holds a grudge.”
Remy flashed her a cocky grin. “You haven’t been around me much over the last years, but I can be a badass myself, if need be. I don’t hold a grudge, but I don’t put up with shit, either. Cryer pointed a loaded gun at us. If I’d backed down, I’d have lost the respect of every man for a hundred miles, and no one in this parish would have told me anything. I don’t care about popularity, but I do intend to find my daughter, and that takes information.”
Gabby felt a knot form in her stomach. Just like always, Remy wasn’t listening to her. “Did you see that house? And the land it sat on? The place must be worth millions. Dan didn’t get that playing by the rules. Everyone in town knows he poaches alligators, both out of season and off other people’s lines. The last man to complain to the sheriff nearly died when his pirogue sprung a leak deep in the bayou. Now there’s rumors Dan’s bringing drugs in from Texas, maybe even New Orleans and Baton Rouge. You can’t find Adrienne if you’re dead. And even if he doesn’t kill you, Adrienne and I have to live in this town after you’re gone.”
Oops. Had she really said that? She sank back against the cushions. Well, it was true. Like before, Remy’d rush in, thinking he had to save her, and just when she got used to having him around, he’d be gone. And she’d have to learn to live without him all over again.
“Is that what this is about, the elephant in the room? I’m sorry I called you my wife. If it insults you that much, I’ll go back and retract the statement.”
Gabby bit back the words that screamed to come out. He’d been quick enough to retract his marriage vows, never taking the time to consider her feelings, her fears.
They’d been safe at Gradmere’s. Sure, they didn’t have much cash, but they’d had a roof over their heads and plenty of food to eat. And then he had done the one thing, the one thing, that she’d feared most in the world.
He’d gone off and left her.
Sure, he’d called every day, and talked about finding them a place, about missing her and loving her, but when she went to bed at night, he wasn’t there.
Just like her parents.
A wave of regret washed over her. Hadn’t there been something in those vows about leaving your family and following your husband? She had to quit blaming him for everything.
But that was the only way she had managed to get through the years without him.
Remy tried to keep his eyes on the road, but he couldn’t help watching Gabby’s hands, lying in her lap. Her knuckles weren’t white. That was a good sign. Neither of them had eaten much, but the break had given them time to cool off. If he didn’t get some kind of lead to follow at their next stop, he was out of ideas.
Sherri Lynn’s place was on a different planet from Claudine’s. Out from town, but not for the view. Only a clump of yaupon trees separated her trailer from the local dump.
For once, Remy would have preferred to smell the swamp.
&n
bsp; Gabby wasn’t going to be able to check inside the house here, either. Sherri Lynn and a pack of little kids were outside. That suited Remy fine. He didn’t want Gabby going inside that place, and he sure didn’t want her drinking from their tap or out of their glasses.
As he surveyed the premises he wondered how Adrienne could have such an eclectic group of friends. Or had Gabby raised their daughter to be nonjudgmental, as Gabby had been all those years ago? If she hadn’t made the effort to break through the protective shell he’d build around himself, would he ever have become the man he was today? Or would he be a sour, disgruntled, loser, like Dan Cryer?
What could he have become if she’d stuck around a little longer; someone his father would have been proud of?
Get hold of yourself. We’re here to find Adrienne, not moan about mistakes of the past.
Remy scanned the area again. No car sat in the flattened, oil-stained marsh grass beside the dilapidated trailer. Did that mean no parent at home?
“Hi, Sherri Lynn,” Gabby called as she stepped out of the car.
The younger kids ran in circles, squealing like farm animals. Sherri Lynn sat on the stoop. She was dressed similar to the other two girls, but her T-shirt probably was two years old, not just bought to fit like it, and the holes in her jeans were the result of wear, not a fashion statement.
“Hi, Mrs. Hough.” The knot in Remy’s gut eased as the girl smiled. “My mom’s not home right now. She’s at work.”
“That’s okay, honey. We just wanted to talk to you for a minute. This is Adrienne’s father, Mr. Steinberg.”
At least Gabby knew what his name was. She’d been so quiet since the restaurant, he’d been wondering if he existed at all.
Sherri Lynn nodded his direction. “I think we met one time, a bunch of years ago. Maybe at that talent show in elementary school? You came with your mother.”
Voodoo on Bayou Lafonte Page 4