avoiding me isn’t a good sign.”
Samantha nodded. “I hear ya, but you shouldn’t do that sort of thing alone.”
Alone. Madeleine resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Being alone had seemed a necessity. All these years she’d had her hands full building her practice and looking after Daddy and Marc. Now here she was on sabbatical from her job; no Daddy, and no Marc. The irony could turn a river red.
Madeleine turned to Vinny. “Have you seen my father anywhere over the past couple of weeks?”
“No, baby. I ain’t seen Daddy Blank, and I ain’t heard nothing either.”
Her body sagged. She wondered how long before her father slipped into the skin of that other man. That violent man in the video.
The door to the shop flew open and a young, dark-haired Latina bustled in. “Sorry I’m late!” she called, and kept stride to the back room where she disappeared.
Madeleine and Vinny gawked. “Who was that?”
“That’s Anita,” Sam replied. “She’s new.”
Madeleine said, “Oh yeah, the new intern.”
“Yup.” Sam raised her voice in the direction Anita had gone. “She’s studying horticulture up in Baton Rouge, but
she spends more time studying the men than the plants!
”
“I heard that!” Anita called back.
Sam and Maddy giggled.
Anita returned, wrapping an apron around her waist, and Sam introduced her around.
“You a police officer?” the girl said to Vinny. “Because I’m thinking of getting a handgun.”
The group gaped at this announcement, and Anita laughed.
“I need to protect myself. My dad has me taking this self-defense class, but did you hear about that girl in the news? The one who disappeared?”
“Yeah,” Sam said. “Angel Frey. The one in Baton Rouge. They still haven’t found her. It’s so sad.”
Vinny said, “I knew that girl. She used to do volunteer work with mentally handicapped adults. I’d see her at the charity drives. She was cute. Very sweet.”
“My dad’s got me all paranoid now,” Anita said. “I live in La Place but I go to school in Baton Rouge. I’m really thinking about getting a gun.”
“Be careful,” Vinny said. “Take the training and get the proper permits if you’re gonna do that. No need to be in a hurry.”
“You ain’t gotta tell me twice. The guy who did my self-defense class has a gun shop, and he also does handgun training. And he’s so cute!”
Madeleine said, “Wait a minute. I grew up with a guy who runs a gun shop in Baton Rouge. What’s your trainer’s name?”
“Zenon Lansky.”
Madeleine gave a half laugh. “Same guy all right.”
BAYOU BLACK, 2009
AMID THE SILVER GLOW of dawn, Zenon untied the rope that tethered the boat to the dock. He turned the motor over and it churned to life. A garish sound against the morning quiet. But it didn’t matter because for once, Zenon was alone. He eased into the narrow byway, enjoying the solitude.
The cypress trees towered like buildings on a city street. The bayou was already coming to life. As the morning light grew stronger, the trees would fill with the sounds of birds and the sawing wings of cicadas. He followed the slate path until swamp gave way to marsh, which in turn gave way to open sea, and once again, silence. A remarkable time of day.
He sipped his coffee and savored the cool, heavy air. The trawler continued south until dawn slipped into morning and land fell from sight. At this point he knew he was far enough out, but he pressed on a bit further, if only to enjoy the peaceful moment.
Eventually, he cut the motor and drifted. The only sound came from the water lapping at the sides.
Taking great care, he lifted the long black industrial garbage bag that contained the weighted-down body of Angel Frey, and heaved it over the side. The dark shape receded beneath the surface.
He switched on the shortwave radio, tuning it to the Albanian station.
eight
HAHNVILLE, 1912
T HEY HAD LABORED UNTIL dawn, when sluggish gray
Samantha nodded. “I hear ya, but you shouldn’t do that sort of thing alone.”
Alone. Madeleine resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Being alone had seemed a necessity. All these years she’d had her hands full building her practice and looking after Daddy and Marc. Now here she was on sabbatical from her job; no Daddy, and no Marc. The irony could turn a river red.
Madeleine turned to Vinny. “Have you seen my father anywhere over the past couple of weeks?”
“No, baby. I ain’t seen Daddy Blank, and I ain’t heard nothing either.”
Her body sagged. She wondered how long before her father slipped into the skin of that other man. That violent man in the video.
The door to the shop flew open and a young, dark-haired Latina bustled in. “Sorry I’m late!” she called, and kept stride to the back room where she disappeared.
Madeleine and Vinny gawked. “Who was that?”
“That’s Anita,” Sam replied. “She’s new.”
Madeleine said, “Oh yeah, the new intern.”
“Yup.” Sam raised her voice in the direction Anita had gone. “She’s studying horticulture up in Baton Rouge, but
she spends more time studying the men than the plants!
”
“I heard that!” Anita called back.
Sam and Maddy giggled.
Anita returned, wrapping an apron around her waist, and Sam introduced her around.
“You a police officer?” the girl said to Vinny. “Because I’m thinking of getting a handgun.”
The group gaped at this announcement, and Anita laughed.
“I need to protect myself. My dad has me taking this self-defense class, but did you hear about that girl in the news? The one who disappeared?”
“Yeah,” Sam said. “Angel Frey. The one in Baton Rouge. They still haven’t found her. It’s so sad.”
Vinny said, “I knew that girl. She used to do volunteer work with mentally handicapped adults. I’d see her at the charity drives. She was cute. Very sweet.”
“My dad’s got me all paranoid now,” Anita said. “I live in La Place but I go to school in Baton Rouge. I’m really thinking about getting a gun.”
“Be careful,” Vinny said. “Take the training and get the proper permits if you’re gonna do that. No need to be in a hurry.”
“You ain’t gotta tell me twice. The guy who did my self-defense class has a gun shop, and he also does handgun training. And he’s so cute!”
Madeleine said, “Wait a minute. I grew up with a guy who runs a gun shop in Baton Rouge. What’s your trainer’s name?”
“Zenon Lansky.”
Madeleine gave a half laugh. “Same guy all right.”
BAYOU BLACK, 2009
AMID THE SILVER GLOW of dawn, Zenon untied the rope that tethered the boat to the dock. He turned the motor over and it churned to life. A garish sound against the morning quiet. But it didn’t matter because for once, Zenon was alone. He eased into the narrow byway, enjoying the solitude.
The cypress trees towered like buildings on a city street. The bayou was already coming to life. As the morning light grew stronger, the trees would fill with the sounds of birds and the sawing wings of cicadas. He followed the slate path until swamp gave way to marsh, which in turn gave way to open sea, and once again, silence. A remarkable time of day.
He sipped his coffee and savored the cool, heavy air. The trawler continued south until dawn slipped into morning and land fell from sight. At this point he knew he was far enough out, but he pressed on a bit further, if only to enjoy the peaceful moment.
Eventually, he cut the motor and drifted. The only sound came from the water lapping at the sides.
Taking great care, he lifted the long black industrial garbage bag that contained the weighted-down body of Angel Frey, and heaved it over the side. The dark shape receded beneath the surface.
He switched on the shortwave radio, tuning it to the Albanian station.
eight
HAHNVILLE, 1912
T HEY HAD LABORED UNTIL dawn, when sluggish gray
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