The Reckoning. Jana DeLeon
when you talked to Bobby?”
“Nothing. His fourplex unit was stripped clean and so were his bank accounts.”
Alex stared, completely taken aback with what Holt had said. “His employer?”
“He gave notice two weeks ago and had already worked his last day. Said he’d gotten a better job in New Orleans.”
“And that … that woman?”
Holt grimaced. “Oh, she had plenty to say about Bobby, especially as the affair ended her marriage, too. Apparently, middle-aged, unemployed, uneducated women who sleep with their best friend’s husbands aren’t exactly desired by employers or anyone else.”
“My heart bleeds for her. So did she know where Bobby moved?”
“Yeah, see, that’s where it gets interesting. She says he was going back home to Brazil.”
Alex froze. “Permanently?”
Holt shrugged. “The New Orleans police haven’t turned up a new residence or employer so far.”
“You think he stole his child and fled to Brazil? Erika didn’t even have a passport.”
“Yes, she did. He filed for one a couple months ago.”
Alex took a couple of seconds to digest that. “Did Sarah know?”
“Yeah. She said he was planning to take Erika to visit his family in Brazil during summer vacation.”
“Sarah knows how to contact his relatives. What do they say?”
“Naturally, they all claim ignorance on the subject.”
Alex’s mind swam with all the implications of Holt’s theory, but no matter how much sense it made on the surface, it didn’t add up for Alex, either. “You’ve checked the airports.”
“Of course, and if we’d found anything, this would already be over.”
“So that means he didn’t take her out of the country.”
“No. It just means he didn’t fly. Given that he took all his belongings, it’s more logical that he’s driving.”
“So you’re going to do nothing?”
“I’ve notified Louisiana and Texas law enforcement that Erika was missing and sent them photos of her and Bobby and all the information on Bobby’s car. I contacted several news agencies here and in Texas, and they’ve agreed to show a picture and ask viewers to call a hotline if they’ve seen either of them.” Holt sighed. “What else would you like me to do?”
“Nothing,” Alex said. “You’re right. There’s nothing left to do but wait and pray.”
Holt nodded. “Then I’ll get going and let you take care of Sarah. If you need anything, call dispatch, and they’ll get in touch with me.”
Alex followed him down the hall to the front door. He stepped outside, then turned back to face her. “I’m really sorry about all of this,” he said. “I know my uncle and Sarah have their issues, but I promise you my uncle’s beliefs do not interfere with my investigation. I’m doing everything I can to find Erika.”
Alex nodded and he turned and walked to his truck. She watched as he drove down the block in the vanishing sunlight. She didn’t doubt Holt was doing everything he could. He wasn’t the kind of man who took failure lightly—she knew that better than anyone. But Holt didn’t know what she did—that Sarah was telling the truth.
There was no way Bobby would have taken Erika away from Sarah. She was as certain of that as she was of anything. And since it was unlikely Erika had gotten lost in the swamp, Alex knew something very bad had happened to the child.
It was up to her to find out what.
Chapter Two
Holt Chamberlain pulled away from Sarah’s house, a million thoughts running through his head. All but one had to do with Alexandria Bastin. He’d known Alex was on her way to Vodoun when he went to Sarah’s house, and he thought he’d mentally prepared himself for seeing her again. Now that he had, he realized how egotistical he’d been to think he was prepared.
Like holding up a trash can lid to stave off a tidal wave.
Ten years hadn’t taken a single thing away from her. Her face was more mature than the college girl he’d left behind, but still as beautiful as he remembered. Her thick blond hair, a gift from her German mother, had been pulled up on top of her head, but he had no doubt that when released, it would fall in thick waves down her shoulders. And even in her official hospital business suit, he could see her body wasn’t missing a trick. She was walking sexy and still as sharp as they came.
He’d been prepared for his body to react, for his heart to tug a bit when he laid eyes on his first love. But what he’d experienced was a total annihilation of senses. There was no preparation for that, short of death.
All that running and he’d landed back in Vodoun right smack in the middle of the same turmoil he’d been in when he’d made the decision to leave. Time and distance hadn’t changed anything except allowing him to temporarily forget.
And all of that took a backseat to the one thing that had nothing to do with his past with Alex—Sarah’s missing daughter. He couldn’t argue with the logic. Everything he’d found backed up his uncle’s idea that Bobby had kidnapped his daughter and fled to Brazil, but something didn’t feel right to Holt.
Things in Mystere Parish never did.
Something about the stretch of dense swamp that comprised most of the parish was unlike anywhere he’d ever been before, and he’d seen plenty of conflicted places during his military service. Not that Mystere was conflicted. In fact, it appeared to be comprised of small, peaceful towns filled with down-to-earth, law-abiding people. But under that surface of pleasant normalcy, Mystere hid secrets. Some of those secrets eventually rose to the surface.
It was the ones that hadn’t yet that concerned Holt.
Hoping his uncle was right for a change, Holt decided to take another look at Bobby and directed his truck toward the fourplex where Bobby had lived. Bobby taking Erica was the simple answer—the good answer. Holt didn’t want to think about the options until he’d eliminated the most obvious and the safest for the child.
The deputy had taken statements from the people occupying the two front units this afternoon, but the woman who lived directly across from Bobby in the other rear unit hadn’t been home. Maybe she was available now and could fill in some of the gaps.
He was about to pull up in back of the fourplex when his cell phone rang. He checked the display and frowned. His uncle.
Holt’s grandfather had married Lorraine after the death of his first wife, Holt’s paternal grandmother. After several miscarriages, Jasper Conroy had been a surprise baby for Lorraine. He was only two years older than Holt, but he wore the “Uncle” title as proudly as he did his sheriff’s badge. The man’s body might be restricted to bed rest, but it hadn’t stopped his mouth from traveling far and often.
“Uncle Conroy, what can I do for you?”
“Why aren’t you back at the sheriff’s office?”
“I’ve been looking into the Rhonaldo case.”
“There is no Rhonaldo case. Bobby Rhonaldo took that kid from that screaming shrew of a wife and skipped the country. Since we don’t have the time, the manpower or the jurisdiction to chase him to South America, I expect you to be back in the office in ten minutes.”
“To do what, exactly?”
“Whatever I say you need to do. Don’t get belligerent with me, boy. I’m still in charge.”
Holt struggled to control his tongue. His mother had asked this favor of