by Judi Lind
“Hmm. Probably about Rosie’s memorial.” She hated the lie but she had given her word to the chief.
“Anything I can do to help? Make calls, anything?”
“No, but thanks.” Normally as crusty as a hard roll, Bob had a soft mushy side that few ever saw. Keely suddenly felt grateful he was her partner. A cop could do a lot worse. His only shortcoming was a propensity for indulging in watercooler gossip. All the more reason to keep the discovery she’d made at Rosie’s to herself.
“Well, even if you just need a skinny shoulder to cry on, I’m here.”
Still yearning for that fresh cup of coffee, she yanked her purse out of the drawer and hurried upstairs. Chief Kapinski had a well-deserved reputation for being a thorough, if plodding, manager. But he’d said ASAP twice. That was real excitement, coming from the laid-back police chief.
Rounding the corner of “executive row,” Keely nodded a greeting to the chief’s secretary, Erma Rodriguez. As usual, Erma had the phone tucked against her ear and merely waved as Keely passed.
The chief’s door was partially open so she tapped lightly and stepped inside. “I hope you had some luck, Chief, because—”
She broke off abruptly. A man was standing with his back to the room, staring out the window to the harbor below. There was something disturbingly familiar about the way he tilted his head, something that caused her blood to move restively in her veins.
While she had been expecting to see the chief’s stocky figure in his rumpled department-store suit, this man…this man was tall and lean. Even from the rear, she could see how the expensive cut of his charcoal suit enhanced his broad, powerful shoulders. His carefully styled hair was the rich color of pecan shells and feathered the top of his collar. This man was sleek and elegant. Powerful. Alarming.
Then the stranger turned slowly and pinned Keely with his blue-gray eyes.
Her heart stopped. It couldn’t be. But after returning his unblinking stare for a long moment, she accepted the truth. Noah Bannister had returned to San Diego.
“Hi, Keely,” he said at last, taking several loping strides toward her. When only a couple of feet away, he focused those searing eyes at her and extended his hand. “I was really sorry to hear about Rosie. If there’s anything I can do, anything at all, please don’t hesitate to—”
Without thinking, Keely reached out and slapped him smartly across the face.
Chapter Two
“Ah, I see you two have already renewed your acquaintance.” Chief Kapinski’s voice boomed behind her. He walked past them without wasting a curious glance on the tableau. “Now if you’re through reminiscing over old times, maybe we can get down to business.”
Keely’s hand hung in midair, still stinging from the blow she’d given Noah. She looked in horror at her bright red palm. Never in her entire life had Keely struck another person. She couldn’t bring herself to look up and face Noah. Not that he didn’t deserve it.
“Keely? If you’ve finished mauling our agent, maybe you’d like to sit down.”
Lyle Kapinski had settled his bulk into his worn leather chair and was gesturing to the empty pair of visitor seats in front of his desk.
Noah Bannister must have been the “G-man” the chief had referred to on the phone last night. Why hadn’t he told her? The answer came immediately: if she’d known who was waiting for her this morning, she’d have never walked through that door.
Keeping her eyes carefully averted, she dropped her purse on the chief’s desk and eased into the chair farthest from Noah’s looming presence. He hadn’t spoken a word since her attack. She couldn’t believe he was actually here, calmly standing beside her. Now that the initial shock had dissipated, she had a sudden, incomprehensible urge to jump out of the chair, throw her arms around his waist and burrow her head against his chest. But, of course, she couldn’t.
Noah Bannister had walked away from her without a backward glance. The heartache and humiliation she’d suffered afterward hadn’t paled in the ten years since his departure. No, she couldn’t—wouldn’t—forgive him. Ever. He’d hurt her too badly.
A second later she sensed that he’d sat down beside her. Deliberately turning her head until Noah was out of her line of sight, she leaned toward the chief. “So what did you find out?”
He flipped open a manila folder and scanned the contents. “This Marty Sargent had a rap sheet, all right, but most of the charges were relatively minor. Assault and battery, usury, a couple conspiracies to commit bodily harm.”
She nodded. She would have been surprised if he hadn’t had a police record. The newspapers had even hinted at mob connections. She waited for Kapinski to continue, knowing there was a twist in this story—a twist that somehow involved Noah Bannister.
The chief leaned back in his chair and steepled his pudgy fingertips over his paunch. “When we picked up Sargent’s personal effects from the coroner we found evidence of a connection to Mexico.”
Keely’s heart thumped. Mexico? Did this have something to do with those cruise tickets hidden in Rosie’s closet?
“Of course,” Kapinski continued, “our first guess was that Sargent was involved in drug trafficking and planned on using Rosie as a mule. The odd thing was that he didn’t have any kind of drug charges on his rap sheet. According to Vice, there wasn’t any rumble on the street that Sargent was planning on expanding from small-time loan sharking into drug dealing.” He broke off and pulled a handful of hard candies from his pocket.
Since the chief had quit smoking last year, his stash of hard candies was as much a part of him as his ever-expanding middle.
Keely rubbed her eyes; she was so weary, so bewildered. Gambling, cruise tickets and now illicit drugs. What did any of this have to do with her sister—or Noah, for that matter?
She stole a glance at him. He was slumped down, elbow resting on the chair arm, his chin propped up by his thumb and forefinger. He looked as relaxed as the devil in his own den.
Kapinski popped a sour ball into his mouth. “Anyway, when we uncovered the possible drug connection, I got on the horn to a buddy of mine in the DEA. Sargent was clean insofar as the DEA was concerned, but he’d heard a rumor that the Treasury Department had an interest in our boy.”
Noah stirred in his chair and fastened his wintry gaze on Keely for a moment. Big mistake. Even though he had already planned to return to San Diego for Rosie’s memorial service, he shouldn’t have agreed to handle this lead. California still had too many ghosts, too many reminders of a painful past. But this was his case, his baby. It would have taken days to bring another agent up to speed.
Who was he kidding? Even if he hadn’t already been on-site, Noah knew that the moment Kapinski’s report came in, he would’ve started packing. Even if Rosie hadn’t been involved, Noah would have jumped at the opportunity to come back to San Diego—to see Keely again.
Apparently she wasn’t as thrilled to see him. His jaw was still stinging from the well-deserved smack across the chops she’d landed. Keely the girl had worshiped the very ground he walked on. Obviously Keely the woman had a slightly different opinion of his charms.
While Kapinski continued to fill her in on Sargent’s background, Noah let his mind drift backward. He’d been no more than a boy when he’d decided to get the hell out of San Diego, away from Keely’s mistrust. Sure, he could have taken her into his confidence; but he shouldn’t have had to make that choice. If she had loved him as much as she claimed, Keely wouldn’t have believed the lies. She would have trusted him.
Back then, though, not many people had been on his side. He couldn’t blame them, not really. It was easier to label him as another wayward kid from a broken home who’d run afoul of the law. He’d counted on Keely’s loyalty.
He’d been bitterly disappointed.
The chief was winding down his summation and raised a hand toward Noah. “Since Bannister here was coming in from D.C. anyway, the Treasury Department put him on loan to us to lend his expertise. Your show, Bannister.”
Noah tossed Keely another glance. She was still staring straight ahead, her eyes focused intently on the chief’s dusty college diploma on the wall behind him. Noah twisted in his chair until he could comfortably address them both. Keely’s reaction to his upcoming suggestion could make or break this case.
Clearing his throat, he launched into a background sketch of Martin Sargent. “Your dead perp first came to our attention a few months ago when he was operating a minor-league loan-sharking operation in Atlantic City. One of our guys was on a routine stakeout, gathering evidence on a gang of enterprising counterfeiters, when he saw him come out of a restaurant with one of the really big bosses.
“Almost overnight, Sargent started dressing real uptown. Began sporting a shiny new car. It was obvious he’d climbed into bed with some high-powered wise guys.
“A short time later Sargent abruptly moved out here to the Coast and set up a completely new operation. We know he was still connected to the Atlantic City group because he was flying to Jersey every week or two.”
Her gaze still fixed on the wall behind the police chief, Keely said tightly, “I don’t get it. What would a two-bit loan shark have to do with a large counterfeiting organization?”
Noah shrugged. “At this point our best guess is that he’s not much more than a delivery boy. Several of the more, shall we say, sought after, engravers have moved their operations to Mexico and South America. San Diego is a natural conduit across the border back into the U.S. In fact, we’ve got strong reason to believe that the actual printing and distribution of the phony bills is done here, as well.”
“What!” Chief Kapinski’s chin jutted forward. “I think you’ve got some bad information, Bannister. There’s no way anything like that could be going down in my town without someone in my department hearing a rumor. No way.”
Noah exhaled deeply and rolled his head on his shoulders, releasing tension. He hadn’t wanted to get into this part right now, but Kapinski was shrewd. Maybe too shrewd. Keeping a watchful eye on the chief’s expression, he plunged ahead. “The fact that your department is completely in the dark about this is a matter of some concern to the Treasury Department, Chief. The most logical inference is that someone in your department is on the take.”
Kapinski heaved his bulk out of his chair with amazing speed. “Now see here, Bannister! I run a clean outfit. We have some of the most outstanding police officers in the nation and I won’t have their reputations impugned by a—”
“Chief, Chief!” Noah held up his hands, halting the flow of indignation. “Believe me, I’m not maligning you or your department. But no matter how good the organization, no matter how honorable most of the officers are, you and I both know that a small percentage of police officers are going to be vulnerable to bribery. That’s a fact of life.”
“That may be a fact of life in your department, Bannister, but believe me, it isn’t around here. It’s always been my policy to offer the feds complete cooperation, but not at the expense of my staff’s reputation.”
Kapinski nodded once, as if to emphasize his point, and eased back into his chair. He slowly unwrapped a cinnamon candy and slipped it between his pursed lips. “We’ll have no more talk about cops on the take and departmental leaks. Understand, Bannister?”
Noah stared at the police chief for a long tense moment before he bobbed his head. He decided to humor Kapinski—at least for the time being. “In all fairness, Chief, we’re not sure where the leak is originating. Hell, it could be someone in the Treasury Department. But the truth is, every time we come close to nailing that syndicate, they slide out of the trap.”
Leaning back in his chair, fingers laced across his belly, the chief apparently had his temper back under control. “So what do you think is going down now? What was the connection between Sargent and Rosie?”
“My hunch is that our Atlantic City boys are expecting some new engraving plates and enlisted Marty Sargent to safeguard their delivery. I don’t know how, but I think Sargent was going to use Rosie to help transport those plates. Of course, I don’t have a shred of evidence to support that hunch.”
Keely’s temper engulfed the tiny spark of conscience that reminded her she had the evidence Noah needed. She was furious at his willingness to throw dirt at her dead sister’s reputation without proof. “You’re really making points, Noah. First you malign the reputation of every cop on this force, now you start on my sister, who isn’t…isn’t here to defend herself!”
Noah closed his eyes and sighed deeply. Then he turned and pierced Keely with his cold, unblinking stare. “I didn’t come here to try to make points. I came to nail a crime syndicate that’s spreading millions of dollars of phony money up and down the East Coast.”
“But my sister—”
“Let me finish, please.” He raised his hand to stem the tide of her rebuttal. “I’m sorry Rosie was killed, I truly am. You know as much as anybody that I always had a soft spot for her, but I can’t let that interfere with my professional judgment. We all know that Rosie’s had a, shall we say, troubled past. First was her teenage foray into recreational drugs. Your father spent a fortune on rehab programs, then she turned to booze. And gambling.”
Keely could hold her silence no longer. “She changed! She’d made a lot of progress these past few months.”
Noah’s disbelief was obvious. “Oh, really? Did you know that until a month ago, she continued to bounce checks with great regularity? Checks that she cashed at the casinos on the various reservations around the county.”
“That doesn’t mean she’d agree to smuggle for a crime syndicate,” Keely insisted stubbornly.
“How much proof do you need? Not only was she with the creep when his Mercedes ran off the road, they had a history. She stopped bouncing checks about the same time that Marty Sargent arranged a line of credit for her at the local casino. You didn’t know that, either?” he asked archly.
Numb and sick with this new and convincing evidence, Keely mutely shook her head.
In a somewhat gentler tone, Noah said sadly, “I know you did your best for her. So did Todd. But you can’t help someone until they’re ready to be helped.”
At the mention of Noah’s brother, Keely looked up. Todd must have known what was going on; his name was on those cruise tickets along with Rosie’s. “Aren’t you forgetting something? My sister was a married woman, happily married, I might add. So if she was involved in anything, it only makes sense that Todd knew about it, as well.”
A haunted look shadowed Noah’s face for a brief instant. “You’re right, of course. I can’t ignore the possibility that my brother is involved. Although I hope we can prove that both of them were innocent.”
Both of them or just Todd? Until Todd’s name came up, Noah hadn’t spoken as if clearing Rosie’s reputation was very high on his priority list. In Keely’s opinion, Noah’s theory had more holes in it than a slice of Swiss cheese.
Keely locked her gaze with Noah’s. “It seems to me that you’re supposing an awful lot with very few facts. The only thing we know for sure is that my sister and Marty Sargent were in the same car when it plunged off that cliff. Maybe their being together was perfectly innocent. Maybe she didn’t know what he did for a living.”
Never breaking eye contact, Noah said quietly, “I’m sorry, Keely, that’s just not true. We’ve gone through Sargent’s papers. Your sister owed him money—a lot of money.”
She blinked rapidly to quell the sudden onrush of tears. If Rosie owed a lot of money, there was no innocent explanation for an extravagant Mexican vacation. Keely felt her faith in her sibling’s honesty eroding with each passing moment.
A dark scowl on his face, the chief leaned across his desk. “Something’s bothering me, Bannister. If Sargent was getting paid to transport these plates, wouldn’t it be kind of foolish for him to involve a civilian?”
Noah shook his head. “Actually, that would be a surprisingly clever move on Sargent’s part. He might have had a tip th
at we were watching him. Innocent civilians are often duped into acting as mules—smugglers for high-risk drug deals. He could cover his own butt by using a tried-and-true method to move counterfeit plates.”
For the first time Keely swiveled her head to look at him. Noah felt his breath leap. Even after all these years, she had the power to set his blood racing with a mere glance.
Her lovely face, now more refined and elegant with the bloom of maturity, was screwed into a confused frown. “Isn’t that risky? I mean, wouldn’t Sargent have expected Rosie to go to the authorities? After all, I just made detective and Dad’s a retired captain. Heck, almost everyone we know is in law enforcement in some capacity.”
“I don’t think Sargent could be expected to know that,” Noah replied. “It’s highly doubtful Rosie was up front about her connections with the SDPD. According to Todd, she’d been playing poker at the reservation quite a bit lately. I’d be willing to bet that’s where she met Sargent and later borrowed from him to cover her losses.”
Keely wouldn’t take that bet. Now that Noah mentioned it, though, she’d noticed Rosie’s distraction lately. In fact, just last month Rosie had borrowed from Keely to make her house payment. Still, she wouldn’t admit defeat so easily; Rosie was no criminal and no one could convince her otherwise. “So even if she was losing money at the casino, how does that tie her to Sargent?”
Noah snorted. “You’ll forgive my bluntness, but the mere fact that she was found with Sargent out in the boondocks tells us they were involved. Sargent probably watched her for a few weeks as she dug herself a deeper and deeper hole. He probably engaged her in superficial conversation, found out she was a lifetime resident, employed, married. Except for her gambling, he saw her as basically stable. Exactly the kind of carrier he’d be looking for. Then, when she lost so much she became desperate, Sargent made his move.”
Keely closed her eyes and asked quietly, “So you believe that Rosie was involved in smuggling?”
Seeing the pain reflected in Keely’s dark, expressive eyes, Noah couldn’t bring himself to admit what he suspected was the truth. He only hoped his brother hadn’t been stupid enough to go along with the scheme.