The Tangled Bridge (58 page)

“Is the truck on the way?” she asked.

“Yeah. Went too far and had to double back, but the driver couldn't find a place to turn around. Should be here in fifteen minutes. It'll take a bit longer to get the boat loaded up. We'll be headed back to New Orleans before nightfall. But…”

“What?”

“I called to check on old Chloe.”

She nodded. “And?”

“She's gone missing.”

Madeleine slowed, her mouth going dry. “That fast.”

She'd expected to see changes in Chloe's condition after Gaston's age reversal, but she'd assumed it would take time.

“They've reported it to the police and left messages on your voice mail. I kept after them until someone connected me to the nurse who'd been on duty when Chloe vanished. She said it looked like someone had shaved Chloe's head—there was a pile of hair on her pillow. And in the bed linen there were sheets of detritus.”

“What, like dead skin?”

“Yeah. No one saw her leave, either. Security cameras showed a young black woman leaving the hospital room, but no sign of Chloe herself.”

Madeleine fell silent, taking it in.

Ethan said, “And the, uh, mysterious young black woman, she was bald.”

A breeze rose from the Mississippi ahead and washed back to the bayou, and with it the trees grew restless. Madeleine tried to digest what Ethan had told her. She tried to picture Chloe as a young woman. How the body might shed old cells and replace them with young ones. Even in cloning, the clone animal begins life with cells that are already at the same age as the host was at clone time.

Madeleine said, “Incredible. You really think that was Chloe on the security video?”

“I can't fathom it.”

“What about Oran?”

“Far as I know, he's still in custody in association with your kidnapping. You want me to call and check?”

“No. But I need to borrow your phone. I have to reach Emily Hammond.”

He handed it to her. “The reception's best if you stand over there by the ladder at the back of the house.”

 

seventy-five

LOUISIANA, NOW

A
GIGANTIC TRUCK WAS LUMBERING
up the hardscrabble avenue that Ethan had cleared, and on the back was the Four Winns. Madeleine and Ethan and the boys followed in the Lexus as the big truck lumbered from side to side, picking its way back to the main road with the borrowed boat. Madeleine hadn't been sure how they were going to get the great vessel out of the water but the big truck had hauled it right out with its boom and placed it on the huge metal trailer, lickety-split.

The boys and Jasmine were in the back of Ethan's Lexus, chattering to each other and signing, and the trunk was packed full, the wheelchair strapped on with bungees. They followed the taillights of the big truck out toward the main road. The going was slow and bumpy, and the allée of pecan trees seemed to have gathered in tighter to see them off.

“So I was thinking,” Ethan said, clearing his throat.

“Mm?” she said.

“You know how we were talking about moving in together before you disappeared?”

She tensed, thinking of trying to fit herself and Jasmine into Ethan's apartment without feeling like a marauder. “Yes…?”

“Well, I know you're worried because my building doesn't allow pets. And you say your place is no good because of the noise.”

“Right.”

“I was thinkin we could give this ole shack a try.”

She frowned. “What old shack?”

He pointed his thumb toward the back. “Here. Your family's property. Terrefleurs.”

“Here?” She turned to look over her shoulder, but all she could see now were pecan trees and winks of buildings.

She turned back around in her seat. “That's an idea, but I was hoping for a place that had, you know, running water.”

“I'm serious—here! Think about it. It would take a few months. Maybe a year even. We could fix up one or two of those cabins first—that wouldn't take nothin. A month, maybe. And then we can worry about the main house some other time.”

“One,
or two
, cabins?”

He shrugged. “In case you want to rent it out or loan it out. You know.”

She gave him a quizzical look, and he cut his gaze to the rearview mirror where the boys were signing into each other's hands. Madeleine realized what he was getting at. Bo and Esther were losing their trailer.

She said, “I'm not sure we could do that. It would cost money. I wouldn't know where to begin.”

“Could harvest those pecan trees. That'd help offset the cost. I could still commute. It's only about a forty-five-minute drive to Tulane from here.”

“Is that all?”

“Just seems we're in a different world, is all. But it ain't that far.”

“But all that construction!”

“We could do a little of it ourselves.”

She thought of all his industriousness, carrying on with the makeshift table and other things around the property, and grimaced. “You said yourself you weren't much of a carpenter.”

“Yeah, I pretty much stink. But I can get some skills. How hard can it be?”

She laughed. Straight from the bottom of her belly.

Ethan said, “I know, I know. Famous last words. But, come on, now, what do you think?”

She shook her head. “I'm not sure what to think. Put it in a pot. Give a little rot.”

Madeleine looked at Ethan, the waning light glinting off his strong chin. She understood what he really wanted to do here. Circle the wagons. Create a fortress. Though they had a reprieve from Zenon and Chloe for the moment, the entire matter was far from settled.

Homesteading at Terrefleurs felt like a distant, romantic idea. But not an impossible one. Not impossible at all.

The Lexus turned onto River Road after the big truck, and Madeleine leaned her head back to try to catch a glimpse of the old place. All that time spent there today—now she wished she'd taken a more careful look. Wasn't there an old piano in the parlor? She wondered what it would take to restore a thing like that.

She felt a light touch as Ethan closed his hand over hers. It felt clean and warm, and even soft—not the hands of a man who was used to swinging a hammer. But the whole notion gave her such a delight she couldn't help but grin.

Maybe.

Tomorrow they could think it through some more. Tonight they were safe. Right now they were safe. And right now was lovely.

 

Epilogue

LOUISIANA, NOW

EMILY SAT ON THE
floor with her son. Cooper wasn't playing with his blocks. Hadn't touched them since that morning.

A
UNTIE
, he'd spelled out several weeks ago. It had frightened Emily. At the time, she'd broken her wrist falling down the stairs like an idiot. Later, when she'd dared come back to the attic again, she'd thrown the blocks into the square red bucket and snapped the lid closed. And then she'd packed all their clothes into suitcases. Even now most of Coop's toys were in a backpack. Only three stayed out for him to play with—the blocks, a flashing count-and-spell game, and the green dinosaur he was playing with now. And the only reason these toys were out was because they'd been in the bucket by the playpen back when Emily went on her packing frenzy.

She'd been poised to leave that very day. But she hadn't been able to, not with the broken wrist and payday still five days off. And finals had been only a week off. It had seemed silly to ruin an entire semester with just a few days to go.

She knew it wasn't Cooper doing that thing with the blocks. It was something inside him. Or connected to him.

By the time finals came around she'd talked herself out of leaving. Of all the LeBlancs, the “auntie” in question was not one Emily worried too much about. What was Madeleine going to do, march up to Wolfville and call dragons up from the sea? Zenon Lansky was the scary one, even if he was practically a vegetable. And Marc's great-grandmother—old Miss Chloe. A far cry from Emily's mom, whom Cooper was already calling Nanna. Emily's mom was sweet, if high-strung and maybe a touch overbearing. Emily wished for her now to the point of heartache.

Seven weeks had passed since Cooper'd used the blocks like that and they were still living out of the suitcases.

“Rawr,” Emily said softly to her son as he wielded the dinosaur at her.

“Rawr!” he said back, eyes wide and grin wider.

The phone rang.

It wasn't her cell phone—the ringing came from the Sweet William Inn landline installed in her room. It almost never rang unless a spill needed mopping or an errand needed to be run. She looked down at her rumpled clothes, overly creased from the suitcase, and hoped whatever it was wouldn't mean interfacing with guests.

“I look like a dag-gum gypsy,” she muttered as she stepped to the desk.

Cooper continued waving his dinosaur and mashing it against the toy bucket.

She put the receiver to her ear. “Hello?”

“Emily, don't hang up.”

Madeleine LeBlanc's voice. Emily's fingers tightened on the handset. But as much as that LeBlanc family terrified her, homesickness arced over all of it and Emily felt a wave of comfort at the sound of Madeleine's voice.

Madeleine spoke again. “Just hear me out, OK? I'm calling because I think you and Cooper might be in danger if you stay up there.”

Emily looked over at the blocks Cooper had arranged that very morning. The N was upside-down, but she could still read it just fine. It said,
GRAN
. She'd felt so helpless when she'd watched him do that. Didn't know what to do.

Emily still didn't say anything, but Madeleine continued. “I understand why you moved away from Louisiana. My brother Marc told you to do that just before he died, didn't he? For your own good. I think he was right to do that. But things have changed. It's no longer safe for you.”

Emily said, “Why? What's changed?”

“It's no good to hide anymore. Cooper needs to be in a safe place. Up there in Wolfville, you're all alone.”

“You know where I live.”

“Of course I do!”

Emily was quiet a moment and then she said, “Of course you do.”

And then they were both quiet.

Finally, Madeleine said, “What I'm saying, the reason I'm calling is, I'd like you to consider going back home.”

“I just started up classes again.”

“It's important.”

Emily nodded, her heart thumping. It sounded right to her. It felt right. Time to go home.

She asked, “When do you … suggest…?”

“Right now. You should leave tonight. Do you understand why?”

“Not really. No, I guess on some level I do.”

“I can try to explain when you get home to your mother's. If you're comfortable talking to me.”

Emily nodded again, knowing Madeleine couldn't see her do it, but having lost the ability to speak for the lump in her throat. The idea of seeing her mom. Cooper's nanna. She knew that she was going to do exactly what Madeleine suggested. Pack up the car, leave tonight. Make apologies to the Inn and call the school later to formally pull out of classes.

She would be home in a matter of days. Cooper would see his nanna. Everything was about to change. Everything.

 

ALSO BY RHODI HAWK

A Twisted Ladder

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

THE TANGLED BRIDGE

Copyright © 2012 by Rhodi Hawk

All rights reserved.

Cover photographs by Tim Fitzharris/Minden Pictures/Getty Images (bayou) and Michael Winnerholt/Getty Images (skull)

Map by Jackie Aher

A Tor Book

Published by Tom Doherty Associates, LLC

175 Fifth Avenue

New York, NY 10010

www.tor-forge.com

Tor
®
is a registered trademark of Tom Doherty Associates, LLC.

The Library of Congress has catalogued the print edition as follows:

Hawk, Rhodi.

    The tangled bridge / Rhodi Hawk.—1st ed.

           p. cm.

    “A Tom Doherty Associates book.”

    ISBN 978-0-7653-2497-9 (trade paperback)

    ISBN 978-1-4299-8592-5 (e-book)

  1.  Women psychologists—Fiction.   2.  Family secrets—Fiction.   3.  New Orleans (La.)—Fiction.   I.  Title.

    PS3608.A884T36 2012

    813'.6—dc23

2012019877

e-ISBN 9781429985925

First Edition: October 2012