Closer Than You Think

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Closer Than You Think Page 41

by Karen Rose


  He hadn’t approved of her work. He’d warned her she’d get hurt. When Combs had attacked her the first time, he’d given her the I-told-you-so look. And every time she’d visited her grandmother, he’d made her wear a scarf so that her scar wouldn’t show.

  Which she would have done anyway, because she hadn’t wanted to upset Gran any more than she already had. But to be commanded to do so had really pissed her off.

  And then, of course, there was always the house. Jordan had claimed to be relieved when she inherited it, but she knew he’d really been hurt. He was the oldest surviving O’Bannion male and he’d cared for her grandmother for so long, yet Gran hadn’t left the house to him.

  It had to be especially galling because he knew how much Faith hated the place. And why.

  ‘Got it,’ she said quietly. ‘Where will you be?’

  ‘In the observation room. Not observing, but staying close by.’ Novak hesitated, then sighed. ‘Faith, do you know who would’ve inherited the house if . . .’ He winced. ‘You know.’

  ‘If whoever’s trying to kill me had succeeded? If I’d made a will – which I haven’t – my father would. If I’d died without a will, the house would go to the Foundation.’

  ‘What Foundation?’

  Faith could hear her grandmother’s voice in her mind as clear as day. Your birthright, child.

  ‘The Joy O’Bannion Foundation. It’s a charity my grandmother oversaw,’ she told Novak. ‘They give financial help, mainly in the form of scholarships, to college students who’ve had a debilitating illness. As Gran’s heir, I’m expected to manage the details at some point. I’ve put it off, though. I can barely manage my own life right now, much less a scholarship program.’

  He tilted his head. ‘Is Henson the attorney for the Foundation?’

  ‘Yes, he is. Why?’

  ‘Bishop and I talked to him this morning. He wouldn’t answer the question about who would get the house, insinuating it was to protect another client’s confidentiality.’

  ‘You were thinking that whoever got the house had motive to kill me, but nobody really gets it. It would have been added to the Foundation’s assets.’

  ‘Who has access to those assets?’

  ‘Only the accountant who writes the checks and the investment broker who manages the portfolio. The board has access to the account statements, but not to the money itself.’

  ‘I see. How much money are we talking about?’

  ‘A lot. Five million maybe? Give or take.’

  Novak blinked. ‘That’s a chunk of change. Is it a private or public charity?’

  ‘Private. Why?’

  ‘Where can I get a list of the board members, the broker and the accountant?’

  ‘They’re on my laptop, which is at your house. I can send you the list when I go back. But why? They don’t have access to the money.’

  ‘Not legally, but it’s the illegal activities that’d be motive for murder. Brokers skim. Accountants cook books. And private charities don’t have the same level of auditing scrutiny. It may be nothing, but it’s too many zeros to ignore when we’re still not certain of why someone wants you dead. One other question. What can you tell me about Jeremy’s children?’

  It was Faith’s turn to blink. ‘Oh dear. They wouldn’t know who did inherit, but they’d know they didn’t, wouldn’t they? I hate to think of any of them as suspects. Jeremy has a daughter named Audrey. She’s in her early twenties. I don’t know anything about her other than that she lives in Cincinnati and often gets into trouble with the law for being a bit overzealous with her causes. Jeremy has two stepsons – the ex-wife’s sons by her previous marriage. He must have adopted them – they go by O’Bannion, not their father’s name. I met Stone and his older brother Marcus the Christmas before my grandfather died, when Jeremy brought them to the house for Christmas Eve. Stone was my age and Marcus a year older. Jeremy announced his engagement to Della that night. I remember my mother being a bit appalled because Della was at least ten years older than Jeremy, who was only twenty-two – and even worse, a Protestant.’

  ‘Really? Jordan just said your uncle Jeremy liked ’em young – boys and girls. Just this side of legal, even.’

  ‘Oh, no, I never heard that, but the adults never directly told me anything. Everything I know I overheard by accident. My father was shocked that Jeremy married a woman. I heard him tell my mother that he’d always thought Jeremy “light in the loafers”, though I had no idea what that meant. Stone is now a famous journalist, kind of bigger than life, and Marcus runs a small newspaper in one of the northern suburbs. That’s all I know.’ She turned toward the interview room door. ‘I shouldn’t keep Jordan waiting any longer.’

  ‘Faith, wait.’ Novak curled his fingers around her arm, the sweep of his thumb making it a caress. ‘I didn’t tell him about the bodies. Not yet. Not until we verify his alibi.’

  ‘But . . .’ Faith shook her head. ‘He wouldn’t. He’s . . . No. Jordan has his faults, but he takes care of people. He doesn’t hurt them. He took care of Gran. He took care of me. If he hurts anyone, it’s himself with all the drinking.’

  ‘I understand that. But until we verify his alibi, I’m keeping my cards close to my vest. And even then, I don’t want to tell him any details that we’re not putting in press releases. I don’t get the impression that his girlfriend would blink twice before talking to anyone who’d listen. If you gave him confidential information and he told her, even a bit, she could compromise our investigation.’

  ‘But when the truth comes out, he’s going to be hurt that I knew and didn’t tell him.’

  Novak frowned, concentrating. ‘All right. Tell him we’ve found one body, and that there could be more. At least we’ll know if we can trust him if the information gets out before the press conference.’

  That was fair, she thought. She’d always believed that Jordan had kept her secrets safe, but the truth was, she didn’t know what he told people when he was drunk out of his mind.

  He’d always been too wild, too spoiled, too bohemian, ever since she could remember. But it seemed he’d only grown wilder over the years. She’d outwardly smiled when Novak had told her about the pink genie gymnast, but inside she’d winced. Still, she understood why Jordan was the way he was. He’d had a sister who’d lost her fight with leukemia. He himself had fought cancer when he was only seventeen. He’d been told that it could come back at any time.

  Some people would see that as a call to make every day count for good. Jordan had taken it as a call to see that every day counted for Jordan. There but for the grace of God go I.

  She’d walked that road with him for a while – the drinking, the parties. She was glad she’d left it before she’d fallen into the same hole that trapped him.

  Drawing a deep breath, she pushed the door open and went in, finding her uncle sitting at the table looking . . . old. His hard living was catching up to him. He was only forty-four, but he looked ten years older. ‘Uncle Jordan.’

  Jordan jumped to his feet, folding her in his arms and hugging her so tightly that the bruises on her body protested. At her gasp he dropped his arms and stepped back. ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘I’m just a bit bruised up.’

  His face fell. ‘I’m sorry, Faith. I didn’t mean to hurt you.’

  ‘It’s okay, don’t worry about it.’ Faith sat at the table and twisted her fingers together. ‘Jordan, we have a problem with the house.’

  ‘That girl was held there. I know.’

  ‘There’s more than that. The police found a body in the basement.’

  He went still, horrified. ‘In our basement? Who? When?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ Which was the truth. ‘I only got a glimpse of her.’

  ‘You saw her? Oh, Faith.’ Then Jordan’s eyes changed, filling with a different kind of horror. Gentler. ‘You went down there? To the basement? Are you all right?’

  She shrugged her shoulders fitfully. ‘I’m fine. Unsettled
.’

  ‘I guess so.’ Jordan squeezed her hand. ‘I would have gone with you.’

  ‘I know.’ She made her lips curve at him. ‘It’s all right. I’m a big girl now, Jordan.’

  ‘And obviously a busy one, Dr Corcoran, I didn’t make a big deal of it with the detectives, but . . . what the hell, Faith? What’s with the name change to Mother’s maiden name? I mean, I’m happy you finally ditched that asshole Charlie completely, but why not just go back to Sullivan? Or even O’Bannion? Why Corcoran?’

  She drew a deep breath. ‘Because Faith Frye needed to disappear. I was being stalked.’

  His eyes narrowed dangerously. ‘By whom?’

  She looked away. ‘Peter Combs.’

  He leaned back on a furious exhale. ‘Goddammit, Faith. Did you report him?’

  ‘Of course I did. Dozens of times.’ She forced herself to look her uncle square in the eye. ‘The cops thought I’d brought it on myself. Just like you did,’ she added bitterly.

  ‘I never thought you brought it on yourself,’ he denied, still furious. ‘Not once. But you have to admit that working with the scum of the earth lifted your odds of being attacked. I worried every day that I’d get that call, and then I did.’

  ‘And you came to the hospital,’ she murmured. ‘Right away.’

  ‘Yeah,’ he said, quieting down. ‘I came. Because I had to see for myself that you were okay. Mother needed to know, too, and she wasn’t always sure your father told her everything.’

  That’s because her father hadn’t, Faith thought. The O’Bannions and the Sullivans were master secret-keepers. Of course I would be too. I come by it honestly enough.

  Her uncle leaned forward, now intensely earnest. ‘But Faith, you weren’t okay. You haven’t been okay in a long time. That scared look you had when you left the hospital is still there. I can see it. What did the bastard do to you?’

  ‘Stalked me for almost a year. Then tried to kill me.’

  Stunned, he glanced at her throat, then lifted fearful eyes to hers. ‘Again? How?’

  ‘He shot at me, tried to run me off a bridge, burned my apartment down.’

  A muscle twitched in his cheek. ‘And the Miami police did nothing?’ he asked too quietly.

  ‘When they finally believed me? He was gone. Disappeared under the radar somewhere.’

  Jordan leaned back in his chair, his expression gone dark with anger. ‘Since someone is shooting at you, he’s obviously reappeared. What are the cops trying to do to find him?’

  Looking for clues on the bodies of ten dead women, she thought, but couldn’t say so. ‘BOLOs,’ she answered, knowing it sounded woefully inadequate.

  ‘BOLOs,’ he repeated flatly. ‘What about the body in the basement? Why are the cops asking me who had access to the basement when they know who did it?’

  Because the bodies were there long before I met Combs. But of course she couldn’t say that either. ‘They have to explore all possibilities and eliminate anyone connected to the house.’

  ‘What about this body they found? How does she connect to Combs? He had a daughter, right? Is it her? Did he kill her?’

  ‘Stepdaughter, and no, she’s alive.’ Vega had said that she’d spoken with the girl a few weeks before. ‘I don’t know who she was. I don’t know if the police have identified her yet.’

  ‘I don’t like this. None of it. I don’t like that you have to be afraid again. I don’t like that this guy was using our house for his sick games. I especially don’t like that the cops have no idea where he is. I don’t like that they’re keeping information back.’ He went still, his eyes narrowing. ‘What about the furniture they were removing, Faith? What were they really doing?’

  Bodies, she realized. The bodies she wasn’t supposed to be talking about. But before she could think of a response, there was a knock at the door and Novak entered the room.

  ‘I’m sorry to cut your visit short, but I’ve had something come up. Mr O’Bannion, thank you for coming in. I’ll have an officer escort you back to the lobby.’

  ‘No. I want some answers. What are you removing from my mother’s house?’

  ‘Evidence. That’s all I can tell you now.’

  He bristled. ‘And the body you found in the basement? Who is she?’

  ‘We truly don’t know, but even if we did, we couldn’t release her name until we’d informed her family. I’m sure you understand that.’ He gestured to the officer now standing in the doorway. ‘Again, I’m sorry that I kept you waiting so long, but I do need to go.’

  Jordan rose, but didn’t move toward the door. ‘And my niece?’

  ‘I’ve located a safe house for her. She’ll be protected. Don’t worry.’

  Jordan shot Faith a frown. ‘I’ll worry less if you’re with me. Your old room is ready.’

  ‘My old room? What happened to your housekeeper?’ she asked.

  ‘Mary moved into my room and I’m in Mother’s suite.’ He took her arm protectively. ‘Faith will come home with me, Agent Novak. She’ll be safe there. I promise you.’

  Faith gently pulled away. ‘I can’t come with you, Jordan. Neither of us would be safe if I did. My hotel was sprayed with bullets last night, and a young man was hurt. My going to a safe house protects both of us – and all of your neighbors, too.’

  Plus she’d lose ready access to Deacon Novak, and she wasn’t ready for that to happen yet.

  Jordan gave her a helpless look. ‘I don’t like that you’re in danger and I can’t protect you.’

  ‘I’ll be safer with the police.’

  He sighed wearily. ‘All right. But if you need me, you call me. I’ll come right away.’

  ‘I will,’ she said. ‘Don’t worry.’

  When her uncle was gone, Novak closed the door, leaving the two of them alone in the room.

  ‘What’s happened?’ Faith asked. ‘Please don’t tell me they’ve found more bodies.’

  ‘No, they haven’t. I needed to stop him from pushing you for an answer on what we were removing from the house.’

  ‘The bodies. I wouldn’t have told him anything.’

  ‘You did, kind of,’ he said gently. ‘When you realized what he was talking about, your face gave you away. I know you didn’t want to lie to him, so I stopped the conversation.’

  ‘No, I didn’t want to lie. He did take care of me, Deacon, the best way he knew how. After Combs . . .’ She realized she was tugging the collar of her sweater higher and made herself stop. ‘After he cut me, I woke up in the hospital to find Jordan sitting with me. He’d gotten there even before my dad. Dad and Lily drove down from Savannah, but Jordan dropped everything and caught a flight out of Cincinnati. He brought me comic books and my Game Boy. A portable DVD player and all the X-Men movies. And then when they let me eat real food, he snuck me in some Skyline.’ She smiled sadly. ‘A five-way with extra onions.’

  ‘In Miami? Really?’

  ‘There are a few in Florida. Jordan went out of his way to find it. He’s always taken care of me. I hate to keep him in the dark. When will you tell him what’s going on?’

  ‘Once we’ve eliminated him as a suspect. Speaking of which, I have to send you home, too. Agent Pope’s here to take you to my house.’

  ‘Why? Why can’t you?’

  ‘Because I have a meeting with Isenberg in a few minutes. If I had time to take you back to my place, I would, but I’d probably be very late coming back.’

  His voice had dipped suggestively and she found herself at a sudden loss for words. ‘Oh.’

  His lips quirked up briefly, but then he was sober again. ‘There is something you need to know. I got an email from the lab while you and your uncle were talking. They found a tracking device on your Jeep, identical to the one Vega found on your Prius.’

  Faith stared up at him. ‘What? How did it get there? When did it get there?’

  ‘I don’t know yet. I’ll need a list of everywhere you stopped on the way to Cincinnati from Miami, and every
place you stopped after you arrived.’

  Faith sank into the chair, her knees a little weak. ‘He was close enough to me to put a tracker under my Jeep. Why didn’t he just kill me then?’

  ‘Maybe there were too many people around.’

  ‘He wanted to wait until I was alone somewhere.’ She took the hand he offered and levered herself to her feet. ‘Where is Agent Pope?’

  ‘Waiting for you in the lobby. I’ll be home as soon as I can.’

  ‘I’ll be waiting.’

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Cincinnati, Ohio, Tuesday 4 November, 7.30 P.M.

  ‘I have to meet with the commander and the mayor in thirty minutes,’ Isenberg said, taking her seat at the head of the table. ‘Where is everyone?’

  So far Deacon and Isenberg were the only ones to have shown up for the meeting. ‘Bishop’s on her way up from the parking garage.’ Deacon turned to the bulletin board, where someone had hung photos of the victims they’d identified so far, alongside a map showing where each abduction had occurred. ‘Nice case board.’

  ‘Crandall’s new intern is very thorough, which isn’t surprising, as she’s Crandall’s niece.’

  Bishop burst through the door, trying to catch her breath. ‘You’re here already. Damn, I was hoping you’d be late like usual.’ She slid into the chair on the other side of Isenberg.

  ‘Where were you? Isenberg asked with a frown.

  ‘Mount Adams, verifying Jordan O’Bannion’s alibi. He and Alda were together every night this past week, including the two nights in question.’ Bishop grimaced. ‘Alda was very specific as to the details of the positions they explored on each night. Apparently they’ve been reading the Kama Sutra and checking off positions as they try them. So, yeah. Alibi is verified.’

  Momentarily speechless, Isenberg was saved from a response when CSU leader Vince Tanaka entered the room to sit next to Deacon. ‘Where’s Kimble?’ she asked.

  ‘He had to take a phone call,’ Tanaka said. ‘He said he’d be in in a minute.’

 

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