Kara Lennox - A Second Chance

“Oh, Zara,” he murmured. Talk about taking a bid for attention to the extreme. To Alain he said, “I’ve got a flashlight in my car. I’ll help you look.”

Since the other men were focusing their search around the opera house, Luc walked across the expansive green lawn, which was dotted with shrubs and stone benches, behind the building. The others had shied away from searching near the bayou-perhaps unconsciously fearing what they might find. But Luc knew Zara wouldn’t get close enough to risk drowning.

She was around here somewhere, hiding, watching the chaos she’d caused. He’d bet his life on it.

“Zara!” He shined his flashlight into the cypress trees that looked spookier than usual as darkness fell. His beam of light played in and out of the Spanish moss.

“Luc!”

Luc nearly jumped out of his skin. His name, a whisper on the wind, had come from the shrub he’d just passed.

He whirled around. “Zara?”

“I’m here.”

And so she was, concealed almost perfectly. She no longer wore red-and-blue stripes, but a camouflage sweatshirt. Her bright hair was bundled under a brown knit hat.

Luc’s first feeling was one of intense relief, followed quickly by a surge of anger. He wanted to reach down and yank the little delinquent out from that bush, throw her over his shoulder and turn her over to Alain. But she looked scared, so he curbed his temper. “What are you doing hiding there?”

“Don’t be mad, Luc. I did it for you.”

That was just what he needed to hear. In addition to despising him, Loretta would probably have him arrested for contributing to the delinquency of a minor. “Come out from that bush.”

“I have a plan. Don’t spoil it.”

“You have exactly five seconds to get out from those bushes or I’m coming in after you. One, two, three-”

“Oh, all right. But don’t you even want to hear my plan?” The dense shrub trembled and rustled and finally parted until Zara emerged. She’d painted brown splotches on her face and the backs of her hand. Pretty damn clever way to hide.

He grabbed her hand and started for the opera house, walking a little too fast, practically dragging the child. “Do you have any idea how worried everyone is? Your mother must be frantic by now.”

“Have you talked to her?”

“I did earlier, and she was plenty worried then.” Luc waved his flashlight to get Alain’s attention. “I found her!”

Alain rushed up to her, then practically fell to his knees to visually inspect her. “Zara, are you all right?” He brushed at her cheek with his finger. “What have you got all over you?”

“Camel-flage.”

“Where’ve you been? Everyone was so worried.” He enveloped the girl in a bear hug. Alain and Zara were close, since he’d been teaching her how to play the fiddle. But Zara still looked a little dumbfounded by the display of emotion.

“I’ve just been…around. But Mr. Luc found me. Doesn’t that make him a hero or something?”

“Can’t thank you enough, Luc,” Alain said. “How did you know where to look?”

“Er, I didn’t. She kind of found me.” Zara’s plan, at least part of it, was gradually becoming apparent to Luc. She was hoping her mother would be so grateful to Luc for finding her missing daughter that she would stop being mad at him.

Nice thought, but it probably wasn’t going to work.

“Zara,” Alain said after he’d rounded up the other searchers and let them know the child was safe, “did you paint the wall of the opera house?”

“Uh-huh.”

He sighed. “I’m gonna call your mama and let her know you’re safe. Then we’ll figure out what to do next.” He led her to his squad car and put her in the front seat with a stern order for her to stay put.

Luc followed, and while Alain was on the phone, he took the opportunity to question Zara. He opened the car door and leaned down, propping his elbow on the roof. “Why did you do that?” He pointed to the defaced stone wall. “That building is a historical landmark.”

“I did it because I’m a juvenile delinquent.” She struggled a bit over the words, but she got them out.

“Zara, do you know what happens to juvenile delinquents?”

“They don’t go to jail, do they?” She was starting to look frightened.

“Sometimes they get arrested,” Luc said, “and sometimes they go to jail. But the worst thing is that they make their mothers really, really sad. How do you think your mother is going to feel about this?”

Zara did seem troubled by this notion, but she also looked determined. “She’ll want to do what’s best for me.”

Alain opened the driver’s door and slid behind the wheel. “Come on, Zara, I’ll take you home.”

“Can’t Luc take me home?”

“I have to talk to your mother and explain what you did. Then we have to figure out what’s to be done.”

Luc gave Zara’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze, then closed the door, his heart heavy. He was afraid Loretta and Zara were in for some tough times. It wouldn’t even surprise him if Loretta thought he had put Zara up to this stunt, just to turn himself into a hero.

His last view of Zara was her painted face looking forlornly at him through the car window, her little hand pressed against the glass. She would learn, and soon enough, that he was not a hero in anyone’s eyes. Especially not his own.

L ORETTA HUNG UPthe phone, relief coursing through her veins like a drug. “She’s okay. That was Alain. He’s bringing her home.”

Adele’s eyes filled with tears of relief, and Vincent crossed himself in thanks. “So what happened? Where’s she been?”

“Making mischief, apparently. We’ll get it all sorted out when she gets here.”

They didn’t have to wait long. Soon the lights of Alain’s patrol car shone through the bakery’s front windows. Loretta couldn’t wait-she ran out the door and to the car, and when the passenger door opened and her little girl scrambled out, Loretta scooped her up and held her tightly.

“Oh, baby, I was so scared. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m okay. Luc found me.”

Loretta looked to Alain for confirmation.

“It was Luc who found her,” Alain said. They went back inside, where Loretta got her subdued daughter something to eat as Alain explained the evening’s events.

“Luc saw the commotion and stopped to help. He found Zara hiding in some bushes down near the bayou.”

Luc. She was going to have to do something about him. But first things first. “Zara,” she said, trying not to sound too accusatory, “can you tell us why you went to all this trouble?”

“Because I’m a juvenile delinquent. I come from a broken home.”

Loretta definitely smelled something fishy here. Zara had an agenda. And Loretta had a pretty good idea what it was.

Alain sat down next to Zara at the oak table. “You know, Zara, what I’ve found is, it’s not so much the number of parents that makes for a good home to raise a child in, but the amount of love and care and concern and guidance the child gets. And everyone in town knows that your mama, and your grandparents, too, give you enough love for ten kids. So I’m not buying this ‘broken home’ nonsense.”

“Thank you, Alain,” Loretta said, “but I think I know what’s going on. Zara’s on a campaign to convince me she needs a father.”

“Ahhh. Well, Zara, honey, I’m sure your mama would like you to have a father, too. But you can’t just buy one at the store.”

“I know that,” Zara said. “But I know where she can get one.”

Alain quickly pushed his chair back. “I think this investigation is no longer in my area of expertise.”