False Pretenses - Kathy Herman [65]
“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