Authors: Janet Dailey
Bannon Brothers (5 page)
It was as good as he remembered, better, even. Dramatic. And mysterious.
Chincoteague horses, huh? He'd never been to that part of the Maryland coastâhe was more of a mountain man. Briefly he considered taking a trip there. It was still the off-season; the place wouldn't be swarming with tourists. He'd bet anything her work would be exhibited at a gallery there. He ambled over to an armchair that faced the painting he'd bought and helped himself to beer three on the way.
Leaning back, Bannon supported his head on the muscle in his upper arm, trying to remember every single detail about Erin. Her face, her figureâhe hadn't really seen that, because the weather hadn't been cooperating. But she had a lithe way of moving that let him know her body was good. He'd liked the warm pitch of her voice and her hesitation in talking about herself.
Bannon sipped his third beer and contemplated his next moves where she was concerned.
First you have to find her
, he reminded himself cheerfully enough.
, he reminded himself cheerfully enough.
CHAPTER 3
T
ired and sweaty from his three-mile run at dawn, Bannon walked the last hundred feet to his condo. The big tomcat waited for him at the door, sprawled across the mat, looking all smug and satisfied.
ired and sweaty from his three-mile run at dawn, Bannon walked the last hundred feet to his condo. The big tomcat waited for him at the door, sprawled across the mat, looking all smug and satisfied.
“Back from your midnight wanderings, I see.” Bannon dug the key from his pocket and inserted it in the lock. “Who was she this time? The cute little calico on the next block or the fluffy white angora from Unit Nine?”
At the click of the lock, Babaloo rose and stretched with a muscled ease that Bannon envied greatly at that moment. He gave the door an inward push and the cat strolled through the opening ahead of him.
“Wise cat.” Bannon followed him inside. “It's never smart to kiss and tell.”
Crossing the kitchen, he threw a glance at the clock and stripped off his damp sweatshirt. He paused in the living room long enough to turn on the television and switch to the local news. Kelly Johns smiled back at him, her brown eyes gleaming with intelligence, the curving sweep of her blond hair brushing the top of her shoulders. Her ever-so-subtle tan gave her a healthy-looking golden glow.
“We'll be right back with Ron and his forecast for this week's weather.” Her voice had a well-mouthed tone, pitched neither too low nor too high. In short, it was perfect for television, like everything else about her.
Bannon punched the Mute button and headed straight for the shower. By the time he shed the rest of his running clothes, the water was hot and he stepped under its pummeling jets, letting them beat the ache from his muscles.
After about five minutes under the invigorating spray, he felt half-human again, killed the jets and toweled himself mostly dry, then used a corner of the cloth to wipe off the moisture steaming the mirror. He ran a skimming glance over his own reflection, absently noting the dark brown hair, hazel eyes, strong chin, and the crooked line of his nose from a previous break. A razor made short work of the dark stubble shadowing his lean cheeks. Finished, he splashed on some after-shave lotion and winced at its sting, then headed into the bedroom.
He dressed less casually than usual for Kelly's benefit, pairing jeans and a crisp striped shirt with a camel sports jacket. With his cell phone, wallet, keys, and loose change stuffed in various pockets, Bannon backtracked to the living room. He verified the local news was still on, switched off the television, and headed for the door.
Babaloo snaked outside first and trotted off. “No âhave a great day,' âgood luck,' nothing?” Bannon challenged as he locked the door behind him.
The tiger-striped cat spared him a look and issued an indifferent “Meow.”
“So glad you care,” Bannon murmured dryly and struck out for his car.
After reversing out of the parking slot, he pulled onto the street and took aim on the downtown area. The first of the morning rush had just started, filling the lanes without slowing speed yet.
His cell phone rang, drawing a half-smothered sigh of irritation from him. He slipped it from his pocket, noticed the caller ID was blocked, and flipped it open.
“Bannon,” he offered in clipped greeting.
“RJ, it's Doris.” A car in the next lane honked impatiently at a less-than-alert driver slow to accelerate when the light turned green. “Where are you?”
“In traffic. Can't you tell?”
“I wasn't paying that much attention,” she admitted. “Where are you going? Do you have a minute?”
The anxious and slightly harried note in her voice warned Bannon that this conversation wasn't likely to be a short one. He started looking for a place to pull over. With the traffic thickening, he didn't want his attention divided.
“I was on my way to Kelly's favorite espresso bar.”
“Do you have a meeting with her?”
“Not yet. . . .” He pulled into the lot of a combination gas station and quick mart.
“You mean you haven't talked to her? I thought you'd call her last night.”
“What is this? The second degree?” Bannon challenged, then muttered, “You sound like my mother.”
“What did you say? I'm sorry, I didn't catch that.”
“I was just saying that I was busy with other things last night.” Namely, the Montgomery files. “You obviously called me for a reason, Doris. What is it?”
“IâI've got a call coming in. Hang on. I have to take it.” For an eon of seconds he watched the vehicles rolling by on the street and waited until she came back on the line. “I'm back. Are you there?”
“Still here.”
“That was a friend of mine at the bank. Montgomery just filed the paperwork to have the monies held in trust for the reward revert to him.”
“A friend, you say. Can you get her to refund my bounced check fees?”
“No, she can't, and I would never ask her. Now, be serious. We have something to talk about.”
Bannon stifled another sigh. “We've already been over this. Montgomery funded the trust. Therefore, he can dissolve it.”
“Even though his daughter was never officially declared dead?”
“I'm not a lawyer, so I don't know whether it matters that he never petitioned the courts to have her declared dead. My gut says that it probably doesn't.”
“But why is he doing it now, after all these years?”
“Well, from what I read last night, I got the impression Montgomery's had some financial difficulties. At the least, a cash flow problem.” He checked his watch. “Look, I'd love to go into it with you, Doris, but if Kelly sticks to her usual pattern, she'll be popping into the espresso bar sometime between ten and twenty after. I'd like to be there ahead of her, which only gives me ten minutes.”
“How can you be sure she'll even go there?” Doris protested. “I know you're trying to be subtle in your approach, but you could have done it all with a phone call.”
“Maybe so, but only an earth-shattering news story would stop Kelly from grabbing her morning jolt of java.” He shifted the car in reverse and glanced into the rearview mirror. “We'll talk later.”
As Bannon started to lower the cell phone, Doris shouted, “Don't hang up! I haven't told you the most important thing.”
Something in her voice made him ask, “What's that?”
“I found the master list for the files. The Montgomery evidence folder is gone.”
Bannon frowned. “But you said there wasn't one.”
“RJ, I said there wasn't any evidence to speak of. But that doesn't mean there wasn't a file for it. There wasâI mean there isâand Hoebel signed it out. The question is, what's in it?”
“I see what you're getting at.” He nodded, considering this new wrinkle.
“Why would he do something like that, RJ?”
“How should I know?” A thought occurred to him. “Does Hoebel know Montgomery?”
Part of her reply dissolved in a crackle of static. “. . . I was thinking the same thing . . . reopen the case.”
He held the phone away from his ear, not sure if he'd heard her right. What the hell was going on at headquarters?
“Do you actually have some dirt on Hoebel? Mr. Rules and Regulations himself?” Bannon strained to hear her reply.
“No, but there has to be a connection. Get thisâthe Montgomery evidence file was the only old case that the chief signed out. All the others were current ones.”
“Interesting,” Bannon said slowly.
“There's more. This missing one apparently has letters, along with fill-in-the-blank reports. Or so said the master list.”
“Big deal.” Bannon shrugged it off. “Kidnapping cases generate a ton of mail. Mostly from cranks.”
“I know that. But the list specified a letter from someone calling herself Ann's new mother, quote unquote, to Montgomery himself. So that got my attention.”
New mother.
The phrase opened up a whole other aspect to the case that he hadn't previously considered. “There was never any ransom demand made, was there?” he recalled.
The phrase opened up a whole other aspect to the case that he hadn't previously considered. “There was never any ransom demand made, was there?” he recalled.
“Not that I ever heard about, and there wasn't any mention of one in the evidence master list.”
Subconsciously he must have registered the lack of reference to one, Bannon realized. Without it, he had automatically jumped to the assumption that the little girl had been taken by some perverted child molester. In those instances, a child rarely lived longer than a matter of days. But if she had been taken by someone seeking to fill a void in his or her own lifeâfor the first time Bannon thought there might be a real chance Ann Montgomery was still alive.
“Was that letter dated, Doris?”
“The master list didn't say. But what with the chief signing out the file and not returning itâand Montgomery trying to dissolve the trustâwell, I don't know about you but I want to know what's in that letter.”
“Me too.”
“And I want to know why that file got sent to storage ahead of all the other
M
s.”
M
s.”
“It may not be in storage, Doris.” It crossed his mind that it could be smoke wafting out of an incinerator by now.
“I'm going to call in sick and drive down to the warehouse where the first batch of cold case files were stored. I could be gone a couple of days.”
“You're running the risk that somebody there could call Hoebel,” Bannon warned.
“I've been to the place before. The staff sleeps sitting up when they're not watching TV. It's not like the files are trying to escape. In the meantime,” Doris added, “we have to keep Montgomery on a short leash. The best way to do that is by going public. He's less likely to grab back that two million dollars if he thinks it will make him look bad.”
“Agreed. That's where Kelly comes in.”
“. . . I'm gone.”
The connection was broken. With a smiling shake of his head, Bannon flipped the cell phone and returned it to his pocket. Seconds later he was back in the flow of traffic and headed for his “coincidental” rendezvous with Kelly Johns.
Due in no small part to the green lights that met him at every intersection, Bannon pulled into the espresso bar's parking lot in eight minutes flat. As he stepped out of the car he caught the back view of a slender blonde in a belted lightweight coat and high heels just entering the coffee shop. Though he couldn't swear to it, he was certain it was Kelly Johns.
Two steps inside the door and his suspicion was confirmed. It was Kelly there at the counter, standing in profile, still in television makeup, a pair of designer sunglasses resting atop her head.
As luck would have it, there was no one in the line ahead of him and he walked up behind her. “Let me guess.” He peered over her left shoulder at the capped cup the attendant pushed across the counter toward her. “Double shot latte with skim milk and drizzles of caramel.”
She turned with a small start, her dark eyes lighting up with recognition at the sight of him.
“Bannon. This is a surprise. And more of a surprise that you remembered this.” She picked up the cup and gave it an indicating lift.
“Remembering details is my business,” Bannon reminded her and ordered a regular coffee. “Sometimes the seemingly minor ones turn out to be important.”
“I'd ask how you are, but you look so strong and fit, the answer seems obvious.” She waited next to him while his coffee was poured. “Are you back on duty?”
“Not yet. Which is probably just as well since they'd more than likely restrict me to desk duty and I'd hate it.” With his coffee delivered, he gestured to an empty table. “Do you have time to sit and drink that?”
After the smallest of hesitations, she smiled easily. “I can steal a few minutes.”
“Good.” He guided her to the table.
Once seated, she ran a thoughtful look over his face. “I don't know if anyone told you or not, but I went to the hospital to see you a day or two after the shooting. But at the time, they were only allowing immediate family members in to see you. I stopped again a week or so later, and you'd already been released.”
“I'm sure someone mentioned it to me, but as drugged as I was, I don't even remember my family being there.”
“I understand. I'm just glad that you've fully recoveredâor almost.”
She meant that. Bannon could tell. And he also believed that she had come to see him back then out of genuine concern for his wellbeing. But he also knew she'd probably been hoping she could talk him into an exclusive interview.
While wasting a couple of minutes on idle chitchat, Bannon acknowledged to himself that she was still beautiful, intelligent, and very easy to talk toâall things that had originally drawn him to ask her out those many months ago. But when he compared her with Erin, even though he had just met her, Kelly came up lacking on many levels. It was an observation he wanted to explore. Then he caught her glance at her wristwatch and knew he was running out of time.
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