Chapter 23
twenty-three
N oah had visited the local jail once during a fifth-grade field trip. The deputy had walked the class around the small facility, shown them the lackluster meals the inmates received, locked them briefly in a cell with their teacher, and basically tried to scare illegal activity out of them from an early age.
Ironically, he was now trapped in the exact same cell, but not with his wide-eyed, giggling classmates. He was with his father.
He’d much rather be in solitary confinement.
Noah paced in front of the barred door, leaving a trail of dried dirt that flaked off his pants from his slide on the softball field. Russell sat on the wooden bench running the length of the holding cell wall, his expression grim as he tapped one hand on his knee. The fact it was only a holding cell should have given Noah hope, but the smug expression on Sheriff Rubart’s face as he’d clanged the door shut an hour ago brought very little.
“They can’t hold us for long.” Russell crossed one ankle over the other as he leaned back against the concrete wall. “This is all for intimidation.”
Noah refused to sit next to him—or sit at all. This place hadn’t been wiped down in who knew how long, and while he wasn’t as germophobic as Cade, he could easily let his nose make the decision for him. “I take it you speak from experience.”
“I’ve crossed the wrong person a time or two—much worse than Bergeron.” Russell’s face crinkled at the name. “It always worked out for me in the end.”
Noah had wondered how much of his father’s business success in the Golden State had been legitimate. He paused his pacing and faced his dad. “Let me guess—you paid them off?”
Russell cut his eyes to Noah, a flicker of amusement in his gaze. “You always were a sharp one.”
“Not that you were around to notice.” The words slipped free, bringing a sense of relief and regret at once. Not that his dad didn’t deserve to hear them and more.
More like he didn’t deserve the acknowledgment.
Russell frowned as he sat up straight. “You know, I really didn’t expect this much animosity from you. I thought you’d be glad to see me.”
“Glad?” Noah scoffed. “You got into a fistfight with my girl—with Elisa’s dad. At a public ball field.”
Russell cursed. “That wasn’t my fault.”
“It never is, is it?” Long-dormant fury stirred in Noah’s chest. “I guess next you’ll say it wasn’t your fault that you had an affair. Wasn’t your fault your mistress died.”
Russell was on his feet and in front of Noah in seconds. His dark eyes flashed. “It wasn’t. You don’t know anything about that—you were a child.”
“Exactly. And you were my dad.” Noah held his ground, staring him in the eye. “Emphasis on were .”
Russell flinched. “So I make one mistake and you cut me off forever?”
“Pretty sure you made that decision when you cut Mom out. And moved to the west coast to start a new life, leaving her to deal with your mess all alone.”
Russell stepped back and ran a hand over the back of his neck. “I asked her to take me back. She wouldn’t. So I left.”
“Am I supposed to feel sorry for you?” Noah had never been more torn between laughing and punching someone in the face. “You ruined her life and reputation with your selfishness. You ruined mine!”
“Hey!” Sheriff popped around the corner of the hall, hands on his hips as he glared. “Keep it down in there.” He kept his level stare on them for several moments before disappearing once again.
Noah lowered his voice, hissing through clenched teeth. “I had to move. I didn’t get to go to high school with my friends. Everything changed because of you.”
“Well, it looks like you and Elisa figured it out just fine.” Russell shook his head. “I can’t believe you ended up with a Bergeron. After all that.”
“We’re not…” Noah didn’t know what they were now. Or maybe her silence on the ball field told him all he needed to know. Maybe it was like she’d said at the Magnolia Blossom last week before dumping coffee on their table—some things never changed.
He should’ve known better. There was too much water under their shaky bridge of a relationship. What had he expected? Thanks to the man sitting across from him, Noah’s name was all but trash in this town. Hadn’t the sheriff confirmed that with the click of a lock? Elisa had chosen sides, and she’d clearly chosen her father.
He couldn’t fully blame her for it, either.
Noah squared his shoulders. “Elisa and I are none of your business. You don’t have the right to know anything about my life.”
“Fine.” Russell raised both hands as he sat back on the bench. “I didn’t come here to fight with you.” He ran his hand through his hair, much like Noah often did, and then released a heavy sigh. His father was still silver, cunning, and narcissistic.
But he also looked more and more like what he truly was—an aging man living out a lifetime of bad decisions.
Speaking of tired, Noah’s legs hurt. He’d run all evening at the game, and his knee still ached from his dramatic slide into base. He took a seat on the edge of the bench next to Russell.
Forget it—he was probably going to have to relegate these pants to yard duty anyway. Noah slid back into a comfortable position, then looked at his father. “What are you really doing here?” He racked his brain for any details from their last phone call nearly a year ago, only remembering one. “Did Bambi break up with you?”
“Her name was Bailey. And yes.” Russell snorted. “She found someone with as much money but fewer years on the calendar.”
“Again with the sympathy.” Noah rolled his eyes. His head was pounding, and there was no telling how much longer they’d have to sit here. The more time he spent in his father’s presence, the more uncomfortable he grew just being related to him.
This wasn’t the legacy he wanted. But he wasn’t ready to sell the inn and move back to Shreveport, either.
He didn’t want to run away and quit—or become anything more like the man at his side than he already was. And the only way to prove that was to finish the hunt, with or without Elisa, and save the Blue Pirogue.
Russell crossed his arms over his chest. “Before you say anything about karma, don’t.”
“I wouldn’t. I don’t believe in karma.” The hymn from Sunday’s sermon flooded Noah’s mind.
Love lifted me
When nothing else could help
Love lifted me
He stared at a crack in the tiled floor as the song ran on repeat in his head. Loving his father…that was a leap. So was forgiving. Maybe he could baby step toward that goal one day. The first step wasn’t going to happen in a jail cell.
But maybe Noah could offer him something.
“You know that’s not love, right?” He refused to meet his father’s eyes, even though Russell’s gaze bore directly into his profile.
“What’s not?”
“The Bambis of the world.”
“ Bailey .”
“Her, too.” Noah finally looked at his dad. “I’m just saying there’s more to life than the next woman and greener pastures and money.”
“Says the guy without any of those things.” Russell smirked. “Nice try, son. If you’re about to whip out a religious tract from your pocket, save yourself the trouble.”
He was incorrigible. Noah leaned back against the wall, turning his face away. He’d tried.
A stiff quiet filled the cell, save for the hum of the fluorescent lights above.
Russell finally broke the silence. “So what’s this your girl was saying about a treasure hunt?”
Noah leaned forward, bracing his forearms on his knees and sending more dirt skittering to the floor. “Grandpa set up his will to include additional inheritance six months postmortem.”
“And you have to hunt for it?”
“Yep. Follow the clues.”
“Such a quirky man.” Russell shook his head. “Leave it to my father to saddle you with that inn and its mortgage, then make you work to find the money to pay for it.”
“We’re pretty close to the end of the hunt.” Forget that this last clue was impossible and his partner had all but sent him to jail. He swallowed. “It’ll all work out.”
“Maybe it won’t have to.”
Noah turned his head slowly to his father. “What do you mean?”
“You asked why I was here.” He shrugged one shoulder. “I’m here to take over.”
He snorted. “I don’t need your help.”
“Sounds like you do. Black mold?”
Noah narrowed his eyes. “How’d you hear about that?”
“I keep tabs.”
So he could bother to keep up with what Noah was doing, but not bother to keep up with Noah himself? Seemed about right. He clenched his fists. “I’m not asking to borrow money.”
“I wasn’t offering to lend it. I’m here for the inn.”
“You want to take over the Blue Pirogue even with a mold issue?” Noah frowned.
“I can handle that.” Russell waved one hand in the air. “Who’s doing the mitigation work? I’ll assume the payments.”
A wave of protectiveness swept through Noah’s body, tightening his shoulders. “Thanks, but no thanks. The inn isn’t up for grabs.” To Isaac Bergeron or to his dad. The last thing he needed was for his father to sink his cursed claws into Grandpa’s legacy, just to have it taken over later by a loan shark or a lawsuit from a scorned west coast husband.
Not. Happening.
Russell leaned forward, matching Noah’s braced posture. “I don’t think you understand.” His voice dipped as he leveled his gaze at Noah. “I’m taking the inn.”
His ears flooded with heat. “It’s not yours to take.” He was starting to understand why Isaac had punched Russell square in the nose. This man and his arrogance were infuriating. “There’s a sentence in Grandpa’s will you might be interested in. All my assets revert to Noah .”
“On the contrary.” Russell lifted his chin. “You know what trumps a will?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “A mortgage with my name on it.”
His heart skipped. “What?”
“I was the co-signer some years back when Dad needed help.”
A co-signer? Noah stared blankly. Then Owen’s words from their bank meeting last week flew through his head like a bat in a cave but twice as scary. If you had a co-signer, like your grandfather did for that second mortgage years ago, it’d be no problem.
“I was getting bored in Cali. My hotels can manage themselves for a bit. Thought I’d take a change of scenery—catch up with my son.” All smiles again, Russell clapped his hand on Noah’s shoulder.
Noah ducked out of the grasp. “That’s bull and you know it.” He studied his father’s carefully arranged expression. “Let me guess. Bailey didn’t find another man. You were the other man, and now he’s after you.”
Russell clasped his hands together. “Like I said, you’re sharp. Don’t worry. I’ll get you a job at the Blue Pirogue if you want.”
Over his dead body. Noah abruptly stood and turned, towering over his father on the bench. “I’m not going to let this happen.”
Russell laughed. “As soon as I can get to the bank, you’re not going to have much of a choice. If I pay off that thirty grand, the inn is mine.” He spread his hands wide with a grin. “You’re welcome to find a probate lawyer and fight me on it, but I hear that’s expensive.”
“Fine.” Frustration knotted in Noah’s throat as he turned away from his sorry excuse for a dad and stalked to the door. “Then we’ll see who gets there first.”
With money he didn’t yet have.
Noah gripped the cell door with both hands and stared down the hall, chest heaving as reality crashed. Elisa had abandoned him. He had no leads on the next clue. Had just been handed an even tighter deadline than the one Grandpa had initiated...
And he was literally stuck behind bars.
* * *
Clouds bulging with the threat of rain covered the night sky. Elisa banged on the front door of the Magnolia Bay Parish Jail, shivering in the unseasonably cool wind blowing in from the bay. Sheriff Rubart looked up from the front desk, long abandoned by the receptionist this time of night.
He frowned at her, but rose from the rolling desk chair and ambled to the door, opening it just enough to poke his head out. “Is this an emergency, Ms. Bergeron?” His pinched brow affirmed his strong opinion that it wasn’t.
“Yes, actually.” Elisa slipped through the opening before he could block it. “I need to make a statement about what I saw at the ball field tonight.”
He rolled his eyes. “How convenient.”
“Noah didn’t hit anyone. In fact, he got hit trying to keep me out of it.”
“So you’re saying you belong in that cell back there?” He raised his brows.
“No, I was trying to break it up. Noah protected me.” She took a deep breath, shifting her keys from one hand to the other. “I was trying to get my dad to stop attacking Mr. Hebert.”
There. She’d done it. She’d turned in her own father.
Sheriff Rubart didn’t look impressed. “Again—how convenient that you believe Noah and Russell are innocent.”
She had a feeling that raising her voice at the sheriff wouldn’t give her the same sense of liberty as it had with her father. She leveled her tone, trying to stay patient. “Sheriff, you’ve known me my whole life. I’m not a liar.”
He crossed his burly arms over his chest “No, but you were recently caught canoodling in a government facility after hours with the man you’re defending.”
Her cheeks heated. “This has nothing to do with that. I’m speaking as a concerned citizen. Noah is innocent, and Mr. Hebert didn’t strike first. I’m a witness.”
He stared at her, as if trying to determine whether she was telling the truth.
“You have to believe me.” Her voice pitched against her best efforts. “You’ve only got one of the right people in jail, at best!”
“Actually, I don’t.” He drew himself up to his full stature and gestured toward the hall behind them. “They’ve already been released. My deputy is getting their belongings now.”
Released?
As if on cue, a uniformed officer, Noah, and his father turned the corner at the end of the long white-walled hallway. Elisa’s hope soared. Noah wouldn’t be stuck there all night. They could talk. She could explain how she finally stood up to her father, and beg Noah’s forgiveness for not saying something sooner. They’d get busy working on the last clue, and everything would be?—
Noah raised his head and met her gaze, his expression drawn as he clutched his bag of baseball gear. That expression didn’t change as he continued his approach.
Elisa swallowed. He wasn’t happy to see her, and she couldn’t blame him. But she’d come. She’d done the right thing—she’d ratted on her dad.
That had to mean something.
In contrast to Noah’s defeated gait, Russell’s arrogance radiated from every pore. Elisa narrowed her eyes. Her Sunday school teachers growing up had always taught her not to hate, but good gravy, that man made it hard.
“As you can see, your statement is unnecessary.” Sheriff held the door for her and nodded toward the parking lot. “Now if you all can kindly leave the premises, I’ll be getting home to my impossibly late dinner.”
“This isn’t over.” Russell tipped his hat toward the sheriff as he started through the door. “Wrongful imprisonment is a lawsuit waiting to happen.”
Sheriff’s steady expression didn’t change. “You were held less than twenty-four hours. Get out of my sight.”
Noah and Elisa filed out the door behind Russell. Her heart stammered in her chest, and she reached for Noah’s arm. Then thought better of it and let her hand fall to her side. A misty rain had started, blanketing the dim parking light. She blinked against the cool drops. She hadn’t anticipated this. She thought she’d be able to blast into the sheriff’s office, speak for Noah, and prove she supported him. Make up for her earlier silence.
But they hadn’t needed her. The confrontation with her dad—it had all been for nothing.
She was too late.
“My truck is at the ball field.” Noah wouldn’t look at her. Drops of rain beaded on his hair and forearms.
Russell pulled his phone from his pocket and started typing, covering the screen with one hand. “I’ll get us an Uber.”
“I’m good to walk.” Noah stared straight ahead, one hand clutching his duffel strap. The hint of purple had already started on his chin.
Elisa’s chest tightened until it felt hard to take a deep breath. “Let me drive you to your truck.” She jingled her keys. “We can talk on the way.”
“No thanks.” Still not looking at her, Noah shook his head and headed toward the street, his bag of baseball gear bouncing against his hip.
He still thought she hadn’t fought for him.
Rain misted around them, the air thick with humidity. Panic tightened her throat, clutched her stomach in a vise. It couldn’t end like this. They had to finish the hunt. Delia…the café. Everything was at risk.
Not to mention her broken heart.
Helpless, she took several steps after Noah and called out, “At least let me take your bag!”
He turned, walking backward now, and finally met her gaze via the glow of a streetlight. Her breath hitched at the betrayal radiating off his expression.
Elisa froze.
Noah held the eye contact for several moments before darting a final glance between her and his dad. Then he gave a quick shake of his head. “I’m better off on my own.”
“Noah, wait. That’s not true.” He couldn’t believe that. He just needed to hear what happened, what she’d done to try to help. Tears slipped down her cheeks. “We need?—”
“You made your position clear.” Noah’s harsh words cut off her protests. “I’m the one who thought things could be different this time, and I was clearly wrong.”
“But that’s just it.” Elisa took several steps after him, even as he kept retreating. “You’re not wrong.”
“I’m never going to be what you need, Elisa.” Noah turned back around, throwing his final words over his shoulder. “So just calm down and go home.”
Then he disappeared into the shadows of the rain-sprinkled street.