Bannon Brothers (42 page)

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Authors: Janet Dailey

BOOK: Bannon Brothers
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“You were saying?”
Bannon let several seconds pass. “Sorry. I had gum on my shoe. I was just scraping it off. You still there?”
“Try ice for that,” she said sweetly. “It freezes the gum and then it cracks. Bannon, I know Montgomery wasn't admitted. Our contact said so.”
“You mean the freelancer? I don't happen to recall anyone who looked like a two-bit, scroungy, ambulance-chasing reporter hanging around the ER.”
“You have such a colorful way of expressing yourself, Bannon,” she cooed. “No. Not him. We have a contact in the hospital computer system. He alerts us to interesting little things now and then.”
“For example?”
“Do you need one? Here goes. Someone named Cutt got shot up in the Blue Ridge and delivered, DOA, to the hospital morgue. The shooting got a line or two in the police announcements the next day. Who cared, right? Cutt was an ex-con and a loner. A nobody. No family, no nothing. But then another contact inside the PD told me Chief Hoebel and Cutt were working together. What's going on in Wainsville? Does Mr. Montgomery have anything to do with it?”
“Go up a few levels. County, state. Ask around at internal affairs. I assume you know someone there.”
Kelly sighed. “Actually, I don't. That's where you come in.”
“Count me out, Kell.”
She laughed again. “I was only kidding. You would never tell me why a hero cop, meaning you, and a young lady were treated in the ER at the very same hospital where Cutt's body arrived, at the same time.”
“That's a coincidence.”
“No, it isn't.”
He could hear her tapping on a keyboard and wondered if she was taking notes on this conversation. “Kelly, you can think what you want.”
“So many connections to make. So little time. You could make this easy for me, Bannon,” she said coaxingly. “Tell me what you know.”
“No way. I can't and I won't. There's a lot at stake here, Kelly.”
“Like what?”
He was getting seriously irritated. “Like my job and—”
“The girl? Her name is Erin Randall, right? I looked her up online. She paints horses. Any connection to Hugh Montgomery and his famous stables? Is she his missing daughter or something? Wouldn't that be wild?” Kelly didn't seem to believe what she'd just said, which was fine with Bannon. “Never mind. I was just thinking out loud. But what is she to you?”
He silently marveled at Kelly's ability to put two and two together. “A friend.”
The woman at the other end of the line fell silent. Kelly was more dangerous when she wasn't talking, Bannon reflected.
“Let's make a deal,” she said after a few charged seconds. “I smell a major story. But I can't connect all the dots on my own. Yet.”
“What do you want from me?”
“When you're ready to talk, you talk to me exclusively. Deal?”
“I'll think about it.”
“Bannon—”
He knew she was fuming. He said a quick good-bye and hung up, hoping he'd gained a little time for Erin. Kelly's instincts were excellent. The return of Ann Montgomery was a major story.
CHAPTER 25
A
fter a night in a forgettable motel near the state border of South Carolina, they checked out before dawn, eating a fast breakfast and getting back on the highway just as the sun was rising. Bannon didn't mind doing the driving. One hand on the wheel, he kept the car at a steady speed, looking over now and then at Erin, her eyes closed, snuggled deeply into a pillow. Peaceful.
They'd left the firestorm of media attention far behind them. Hoebel was going to walk the plank, Bannon knew that much. The state investigators had found a bunch of stuff in Cutt's rat-trap cabin that linked the chief to a lot of dirty deals. Looked like he was a shadow partner in more than one racketeering scheme and the violence that went with it. He was going to have to turn state's evidence unless he wanted to spend most of the rest of his life in jail. A squeaky-clean new chief had been hired but not sworn in. In the meantime Doris was back in the office, taking a lot of ridiculously long lunches with Jolene.
He had nothing to worry about either. Internal affairs brass had asked him a whole lot of questions about what'd happened with Cutt and seemed satisfied with Bannon's answers. He'd been granted several more weeks of paid leave to recuperate.
As for Erin's case, the FBI had collected every single damn one of the boxes and a bunch of old files and whatnot from Montgomery and taken all of it to Quantico. For further study, they said. They had a theory that the Randalls had cased the Montgomery house, the old one, months before the kidnapping. Swift and silent as the deed was, it had to have been planned in advance.
Let them figure it out. The agent in charge couldn't discount the possibility that the Randalls were linked to other abduction cases. They'd practically sworn on their government-issued pocket protectors to return everything within a year. Bannon wanted to believe that, but he'd swiped the photos for Erin before the feds sealed the boxes up and took them away. Who knew if Montgomery had copies of everything? Bannon smiled to himself, changing lanes when a set of halogen high beams flared behind him.
Road's all yours
, he said silently to the tailgating jerk.
But one honk and I'll bust you. That's my girl nestled on that pillow.
More than his girl, but Erin didn't know that yet. He'd bought a diamond ring, a big sparkly one that had set him back a small fortune. Worth it, for her. He wanted to have it handy when the right moment happened. Might be sooner rather than later. Bannon touched his shirt pocket, making sure the button on it was fastened. He'd taken the ring out of the little domed box so the shape wouldn't give him away.
Erin hadn't noticed. She had other things on her mind. He could wait. For a lot of reasons, it was probably better if he did. But he liked to be prepared.
She slept for most of the way, waking up when they'd reached the Low Country. He'd exited the highway before that, taking an old road that would bring them to the coast and the bridge to the island where her mother lived.
He wanted her to rest. There was no way to predict how the reunion would affect her. She stirred in her sleep and he reached out a hand to stroke her hair. She woke up all the way and stretched as best she could buckled up in the front seat.
Bannon took his eyes off the road to take in that fine sight, then swung his gaze quickly back when an old pickup with wooden-slat sides tooted at him to stay on his side of the yellow line.
“Where are we?” she asked drowsily.
“Not far. Almost there.”
“It's nice here. Not a house in sight.”
Bannon smiled slightly. “Oh, they're there. Back under the trees and by the creeks.”
“How do you know that?”
“My dad took us three boys on a fishing trip near here.”
She yawned and ran a hand through her hair. “Catch anything?”
“Catfish. Crawdads. Poison ivy.”
Erin chuckled and looked up through the dash window at the venerable live oaks, their branches draped in delicate moss, that lined the back road and kept the drive well-shaded and pleasant.
“Mind if I roll the windows down?” Bannon asked.
“No. Go ahead.” Erin breathed deeply. “Smells like the sea a little. How far are we from it?”
“I don't know exactly. I think that's a salt marsh up ahead.”
The trees dwindled in size and then disappeared from the flat landscape that stretched for miles in all directions. A playful breeze rippled through deep-rooted reeds of green and gold that concealed the mud they grew in.
“Look at that. It's beautiful,” she said softly. “I wish we could get out and walk.”
“Not unless you're a wading bird.” He laughed.
“I know. Most of Chincoteague is the same way.”
In another hour, they had come to the bridge, and Bannon pulled into the parking lot to let Erin get ready. He got out and stretched, walking around, enjoying the intense warmth of the Southern sunshine. In another couple of hours, it might be unbearable, but right now it was working magic on muscles stiffened by several hours of driving.
He glanced through the window and saw her take a brush out of her purse, running it through her sleep-mussed hair with long, deliberate strokes. She caught his eye and smiled.
Take your time
, his wink told her.
She nodded and went on freshening up, then opened her door and got out. The breeze had softened to a barely perceptible movement of the air, but it did something very pretty for her hair.
“What time is it?” she asked.
Bannon consulted his watch. “About ten. I don't think Luanne— I mean, your mother—is expecting us until eleven or so. Want to have coffee?” He nodded toward a couple of attached shacks that served the locals as a café and bait shop.
“No. But thanks.”
He could hear the nervousness in her simple reply and let the subject drop. “I'm going to get some to go. Back in a sec.”
She nodded and Bannon went up to the open-air counter to order a cup. He was greeted by a friendly lady in gingham who was setting out homemade doughnuts in rows on a tray, then covering them with plastic wrap.
“Just out of the fryer and still warm,” she said encouragingly.
“Sold.” The sweet fragrance of cinnamon and sugar that wafted up to his nose was too much temptation for a mortal man. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had a homemade doughnut.
“How many?”
“A dozen.”
She grinned and snapped a paper sack open, filling it with his order and adding one more.
“And a cup of coffee, please. Black.”
The woman in blue gingham nodded and filled a cup, settling a plastic lid on it and handing it to Bannon. “Anything for the young lady over there?” she asked politely.
“Oh—” He turned around to look at Erin, who was shielding her eyes from the sun with one hand and studying the island that lay across the water, a distance of less than a mile. “She's going to need a doughnut, so thanks for the extra. But she didn't want any coffee.”
“I see. So you plan to eat the whole dozen, then.”
“Not all at once.” The woman laughed as he plunked down cash for the doughnuts and stuffed the tip jar with a couple of extra bills.
“You have a great day,” she said in farewell. “Enjoy the island. It's small and it's outa the way, but folks around here think it's paradise.”
Bannon picked up the sack with the hand that wasn't holding the coffee. “I can see why. Thanks again.” He nodded a good-bye and headed back to Erin before the friendly woman could ask who they were visiting or anything like that.
Erin turned to him. “Is that breakfast?”
“Yes, it is. Homemade doughnuts, no less. Can I tempt you? One won't hurt.”
She smiled wryly. “When in doubt, carb out. Sure.”
They got back into the car and he drank his coffee, eating three doughnuts to her two. She didn't seem to want to talk. Bannon drained the last of the strong brew and stashed the cup behind his seat.
“Ready?” he asked.
Erin only nodded.
He didn't try to draw her out. He had a feeling that she was on the verge of tears. Her blue eyes were suspiciously bright and her lips were pressed together. Bannon got busy consulting the printed-out map he'd gotten off the Internet.
“There's only one road, and it winds. We might find ourselves going in circles, but we'll get there.”
Erin cleared her throat and stared out the side window. He started the car and left the windows down. The smell of the sea was stronger now, but the tang was nice. Going over the bridge took all of five minutes and then they were on the island. It seemed to be completely flat. They were plunged once again into a world of green. Palmettos rose above tangles of smaller trees and brush, but there was still an occasional undisturbed giant of an oak near a house.
“Slow down,” she said suddenly.
Bannon looked at her with surprise, then checked the speedometer. He was doing a blazing seven miles per hour. A turtle could have passed him. “No problem,” he replied.
He concentrated on the narrow road, looking now and then at the houses. There weren't very many of them. Mostly one-story frame houses, but always with a plank porch and rocking chairs that held a lazy dog or cat luxuriating on a sun-warmed cushion. Children played in unfenced yards, casting curious glances at the unfamiliar car and the two strangers in it, returning to their games when Bannon and Erin drove on.
The map in his hand fluttered in his grip as he held the steering wheel at the same time. He blew out a breath, not sure which house it would be. None had actual numbers, or at least not any that he could see.
Then a double-story house came into view around the bend and he pulled over. It was clapboard, like the others, simply framed. There was nothing grand about the double-height porch, supported by sturdy painted beams, not columns. Even from where the car had stopped some distance off, they could see a riot of colors. Quilts hung from the upper and lower railings, and foundmetal sculptures in bright enameled shapes whirred and clanked in the yard.
“That must be her gallery,” Bannon said.
“Yes.”
He switched off the ignition. “Want to walk from here?”
“Just give me a minute to think.”
“You okay?”
“I'll be fine.”
He leaned back and studied the quilts, squinting at the crazy, joyful patterns.
“Let's go,” Erin said suddenly.
Bannon sat up and opened his door, getting out. When she didn't move, he went around to her side and leaned in, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “If you want to go alone, I understand.” He looked at his watch for a fraction of a second. “We're about half an hour early.”
“Oh. I don't want to sit here. Come with me.” She looked up at him with a touch of panic.
He opened her door and she got out, not bothering with brushing her hair or straightening her top. Erin reached for his hand.
There was no one on the porch when they got to the house and she seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. Then they heard a crash from inside. A quilt on the lower railing billowed out and a huge black-and-white cat shot off the porch in pursuit of a small critter that vanished in less than a second.
“Max, you're nothing but a nuisance! That was my new vase!” a kind voice said with a trace of annoyance. The woman who'd spoken opened the screen door and stepped outside, looking down at the swinging cat flap at the bottom.
Bannon just stared. Luanne looked so much like Erin, it took his breath away. Older, yes, with a few pretty wrinkles that said she liked to smile, with shorter hair, and not as willowy as her daughter—but just as beautiful.
Erin gave a low gasp and Luanne turned. It was as if Bannon wasn't there. The woman's blue eyes widened. Her hello died away.
“I—I remember you,” Erin said slowly. Tears welled and ran down her cheeks. “I thought I wouldn't. But I do.”
She stood there, stunned. Bannon took her arm to steady her but Erin brushed his hand away and took a step forward.
“Oh my God. It's you,” Luanne whispered. “I told myself I wouldn't believe it until I saw you. It's true. You're really here.”
Erin rushed up the stairs into her mother's open arms. Bannon didn't know what to say or do. He wasn't going to cry. But he wanted to.
Damn. Not like him. He went around the porch to find Max and get his jeans carefully sniffed for evidence of a feline rival. He would soothe the cat with a chin scratch. Something to do. They could hang out together for a few minutes. Mother-and-daughter reunions like this didn't happen every day.

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