Gone, But Not Forgotten Page 30

  “She probably rented the house. I bet she set everything up the first time she was in Portland, so it would be ready when she moved back, but she probably didn’t start the services until she came here the second time.

  “I’ll call Reardon’s landlady in Hunter’s Point and try to get the exact date she followed Oberhurst and the date she returned to Portland. Then I’ll check real estate listings for rural houses with basements for rent in the tri-county area for the first time she was in Portland. I’ll see how many were rented by a single woman …”

  “Why not purchased? It would be safer. She wouldn’t have to worry about the owner coming to the house to collect the rent or check on its condition.”

  “Yeah. She’d think of that. But I had the impression she didn’t have a lot of money. She was renting in Hunter’s Point and she had a low-paying job. I’m guessing she’s renting. I’ll cross-check what we find about the utilities with the rentals.”

  “How long will that take?”

  The look of excitement on Stewart’s face faded.

  “That’s the problem with using me instead of the police, Betsy. It’s going to take a while. We can hire people to do some of the work, like checking the real estate ads, then I can follow up, but this is all very time-consuming and we could miss her altogether. She may have said she was married and her husband was coming later. She may have found a house in the city that suited her purposes. She may have rented under one name and taken the phone and utilities under another. Fake i.d. is pretty easy to come by.

  “Even if I’ve doped this out correctly, it’s a weekend. I don’t know how many of my contacts I can get through to and when they can get into their offices to do the work.”

  Betsy looked defeated. “We don’t have a lot of time. I don’t know how well she’s taking care of Kathy or what Reardon will do to her, if she decides she doesn’t need me.”

  “Maybe you should reconsider. The police and the FBI can be discreet.”

  “No,” Betsy said emphatically. “She said Kathy would die if I told them. There would be too many people involved. There’s no way I could be certain she wouldn’t learn about the investigation. Besides, in her twisted way, I think Reardon likes me. As long as she doesn’t see me as an enemy, there’s always the hope she won’t harm Kathy.”

  ——

  The rest of the day was so bad, Betsy had no idea how she would get through a second one. It was hard to believe that only a few hours had passed since Samantha Reardon’s visit. Betsy wandered into Kathy’s room and sat on her bed. The Wizard of Oz lay on its side on Kathy’s bookshelf. They had four more chapters to read. Was it possible that Kathy would never learn about Dorothy’s safe return home? Betsy curled up on the bed, her cheek on Kathy’s pillow, and hugged herself. She could smell Kathy’s freshness on the pillow, she remembered the softness of her skin. Kathy, who was so precious, so good, was now in a place as distant as Oz where Betsy could not protect her.

  The house was chilly. Betsy had forgotten to turn on the heat. Eventually the cold made her uncomfortable. Betsy sat up. She felt old and wasted, chilled to the bone by the icy air, as if her blood had been drained from her, leaving her too weak to cope with the horror that had invaded her life.

  The thermostat was in the hall. Betsy adjusted it and listened to the rumble of the furnace starting up. She drifted aimlessly from room to room. The silence overwhelmed her. It was rare for her to be completely alone. Since Kathy’s birth, she had always been surrounded by sound. Now she could hear every raindrop fall, the creak of timbers, water dripping in the kitchen sink, the wind. So much silence, so many signs of loneliness.

  Betsy saw the liquor cabinet, but rejected the idea of numbing herself. She had to think, even if each thought was painful. Liquor was a trap. There was going to be a lot of pain in her future and she had to get used to it.

  Betsy brewed a cup of tea and turned on the television for company. She had no idea what show she was watching, but the sound of laughter and applause made her feel less alone. How was she going to get through the night, if getting through the day was so unbearable?

  Betsy thought about calling her mother but rejected the idea. Rick’s body would be discovered soon and Rita would learn that Kathy was missing. She decided to spare her mother suffering for as long as possible.

  Stewart called at four to check on Betsy. He had talked to his contacts at the utility companies and the phone companies and had hired several investigators he trusted to scour the real estate ads for the relevant time period. Stewart insisted on coming by with Chinese take-out. Betsy knew he was doing it so she would not be alone. She was too tired to tell him not to come and she appreciated the company when he arrived.

  Stewart left at six-thirty. An hour later, Betsy heard a car pull into her carport. She hurried to the door, hoping, irrationally, that her visitor was Samantha Reardon bringing Kathy home. A police car was parked in one side of the carport. A uniformed officer was driving. Ross Barrow got out of the passenger side. He looked troubled. Betsy’s heart beat wildly, certain he was here to tell her about Rick’s murder.

  “Hello, Detective,” she said, trying to sound nonchalant.

  “Can we step inside, Ms. Tannenbaum?” Barrow asked.

  “Is this about Martin’s case?”

  Barrow sighed. He had been breaking the news of violent death to relatives for longer than he cared to remember. There was no easy way to do it.

  “Why don’t we go inside?”

  Betsy led Barrow into the house. The other officer followed.

  “This is Greg Saunders,” Barrow said. Saunders nodded.

  “Do you want some coffee?”

  “Not right now, thank you. Can we sit down?”

  Betsy walked into the living room. When they were seated, Barrow asked, “Where were you last night and today?”

  “Why do you want to know?”

  “I have an important reason for asking.”

  “I was home.”

  “You didn’t go out? No one visited you?”

  “No,” Betsy answered, afraid to mention Reggie Stewart.

  “You’re married, aren’t you?”

  Betsy looked at Barrow for a moment, then looked down at her lap.

  “My husband and I are separated. Kathy, our daughter, is staying with him for a few days. I’ve been taking advantage of the peace and quiet to sleep late, catch up on some reading. What’s this all about?”

  “Where are Mr. Tannenbaum and your daughter staying?” Barrow asked, ignoring her question.

  “Rick just rented a new apartment. I have the address written down. But why are you asking?”

  Betsy looked back and forth between Barrow and Saunders. Saunders would not meet her eye.

  “Has something happened to Rick and Kathy?”

  “Ms. Tannenbaum, this isn’t easy for me. Especially since I know you. The door to your husband’s apartment was open. A neighbor found him.”

  “Found Rick? How? What are you talking about?”

  Barrow looked Betsy over carefully.

  “Do you want some brandy or something? Are you gonna be okay.”

  “Oh, God,” Betsy said, letting her head drop into her hands, so her face was covered.

  “The neighbor has already identified Mr. Tannenbaum, so you’ll be spared that.”

  “How did he …?”

  “He was murdered. We need you to come to the apartment. There are some questions only you can answer. You don’t have to worry, the body’s been removed.”

  Betsy suddenly jerked upright. “Where’s Kathy?”

  “We don’t know, Ms. Tannenbaum. That’s why we need you to come with us.”

  ——

  Most of the lab technicians were gone by the time Betsy arrived at Rick’s apartment. Two officers were smoking in the hall outside his door. Betsy heard them laughing when the elevator doors opened. They looked guilty when they saw her step out. One of them held his cigarette at his side as if he was tryi
ng to hide evidence.

  The door to Rick’s apartment opened into a narrow hall. At the end of the hall, the apartment fanned out into a large living room with high windows. The lights were on in the hall. Betsy saw the blood immediately. It had dried into a large brown stain. Rick had died there. She looked up quickly and followed Barrow as he stepped over the spot.

  “In here,” he said, gesturing toward the guest room. Betsy walked into the room. She saw Kathy’s book bag. Dirty jeans and a green, striped long-sleeve shirt lay crumpled on the floor in a corner. On the ride over, Betsy wondered if she could fake crying when the time came. She need not have worried.

  “They’re Kathy’s,” she managed. “She was so proud, because she packed everything herself.”

  There was a commotion at the front door. Alan Page tore into the apartment and went directly to Betsy.

  “I just heard. Are you okay?”

  Betsy nodded. Gone was the self-confidence Page had seen in court. Betsy looked like she could break into a million pieces at any moment. He took her hands and gave them a gentle squeeze.

  “We’ll get your daughter back. I’m putting everything we’ve got into this. I’ll call in the FBI. We’ll find out who has her.”

  “Thank you, Alan,” Betsy answered dully.

  “Are you through with her, Ross?”

  Barrow nodded.

  Page led Betsy out of the room and into a small den. He made Betsy sit down and he sat opposite her.

  “Can I do anything for you, Betsy?”

  Page was concerned by Betsy’s pallor. Betsy took a deep breath and shut her eyes. She was used to thinking of Alan Page as a stone-hard adversary. Page’s show of concern disarmed her.

  “I’m sorry,” Betsy said. “I just can’t seem to focus.”

  “Don’t apologize. You’re not made of iron. Do you want to rest? We can talk about this later.”

  “No. Go ahead.”

  “Okay. Has anyone contacted you about Kathy?”

  Betsy shook her head. Page looked troubled. It didn’t make sense. Rick Tannenbaum had probably been killed the day before. If the person who took Kathy was after ransom he’d have called Betsy by now.

  “This wasn’t a robbery, Betsy. Rick’s wallet was full of money. He had on a valuable watch. Can you think of anyone with a reason to hurt Rick?”

  Betsy shook her head. It was hard lying to Alan, but she had to do it.

  “He had no enemies?” Page asked. “Personal, business, someone in his firm, someone he bested in court?”

  “No one comes to mind. Rick didn’t get into court. He does contracts, mergers. I never heard him say anything about personal problems with anyone in his firm.”

  “I don’t want to hurt you,” Page said, “but Ross told me you and Rick were separated. What happened? Was he drinking, using drugs, was there another woman?”

  “It was nothing like that, Alan. It was … He … he desperately wanted to be a partner at Donovan, Chastain and Mills and it looked like they weren’t going to let him. And … and he was terribly jealous of my success.” Tears welled up in Betsy’s eyes. “Making partner meant so much to him. He couldn’t see that I didn’t care. That I loved him.”

  Betsy could not go on. Her shoulders shook with each sob. It all sounded so stupid. To break up a marriage over something like that. To leave your wife and daughter for a name on a letterhead.

  “I’ll be sending you home with an officer,” Page said quietly. “I want to set up a command post in your house. Until we learn otherwise, we’re treating Kathy’s disappearance as a kidnapping. I want your permission to put a tap on your home and office phones, in case the person who has Kathy calls. We’ll cut off any call from a client as soon as we know it’s not the kidnapper. I’ll have the office tapes erased.”

  “Okay.”

  “We haven’t released Rick’s identity yet and we aren’t going to let the media know Kathy’s missing until we have to, but we’ll probably have to give out Rick’s name in the morning. You’re going to be hounded by the press.”

  “I understand.”

  “Do you want me to call someone to stay with you?”

  There was no longer a reason to keep Kathy’s disappearance from Rita. Betsy needed her more than ever.

  “I’d like my mother to stay with me.”

  “Of course. I can have an officer drive her to your house.”

  “That won’t be necessary. May I use the phone?”

  Page nodded. “One other thing. I’ll explain what happened to Judge Norwood. He’ll set over the Darius hearing.”

  Betsy’s heart leaped. She had forgotten about the hearing. How would Reardon react, if it was set over? Reardon was holding Kathy because of the hearing. The longer it was put off, the greater was the danger that Reardon would harm Kathy.

  “I’m going to work, Alan. I’ll go crazy if I just sit at home.”

  Page looked at her oddly. “You won’t want to tackle anything as complex as Darius’s case now. You’ll be too distracted to do a competent job. I want Darius more than I’ve ever wanted anyone, but I’d never take advantage of a situation like this. Believe me, Betsy. We’ll talk about his case after the funeral.”

  The funeral. Betsy hadn’t even thought about a funeral. Her brother had taken care of her father’s funeral. What did you do? Whom did you contact?

  Page saw how confused Betsy looked and took her hand. She had never noticed his eyes before. Everything else about the district attorney, from his lean build to the angles that made up his face, were so hard, but his eyes were soft blue.

  “You look like you’re about to fold up,” Page said. “I’m going to send you home. Try to get some sleep, even if you have to take something. You’ll need all your strength. And don’t give up hope. You have my word. I’ll do everything in my power to get back your little girl.”

  CHAPTER 27

  One

  “Tannenbaum was killed Friday evening,” Ross Barrow said as he uncapped a Styrofoam cup filled with black coffee. Randy Highsmith pulled a jelly doughnut out of a bag Barrow had placed on Alan Page’s desk. It was still dark. Through the window behind Page, a river of headlights flowed across the bridges spanning the Willamette River as the Monday morning commuters drove into downtown Portland.

  “Three days without a call,” Page muttered to himself, fully aware of the implications. “Anything last night at Betsy’s house?” he asked Barrow.

  “A lot of condolence calls, but no kidnapper.”

  “How do you figure it?” Page asked Highsmith.

  “First possibility, it’s a kidnapping, but the kidnapper hasn’t gotten in touch with Betsy for some reason known only to him.”

  “The kid could be dead,” Barrow offered. “He wants to hold her for ransom, but fucks up and kills her.”

  “Yeah,” Highsmith said. “Or, possibility number two, he has Kathy and he’s not interested in ransom.”

  “That’s the possibility I don’t even want to consider,” Page said.

  “Do we have anything new, Ross?” Highsmith asked.

  Barrow shook his head. “No one saw anyone leaving the apartment house with a little girl. The murder weapon is missing. We’re still waiting on results from the lab.”

  Page sighed. He’d had very little sleep in the past few days and he was exhausted.

  “The only good thing to come out of this mess is the extra time it’s bought with Darius,” Page said. “What was in the surveillance logs?”

  “Nothing that helps us,” Barrow answered. “Padovici and Kristol were on Darius from the moment he left his estate at six forty-three a.m. I talked to Justice Ryder again. He’s positive he was eating breakfast with Lisa Darius at seven-thirty. The teams were on Darius constantly. Besides, Darius met with people all day, in his office. I’ve had every member of his staff and visitors interviewed twice. If they’re covering for him, they’re doing a great job.”

  “There has to be an answer,” Page said. “Has the team w
e’ve got searching for Gordon turned up anything?”

  “Nada, Al,” Barrow answered. “No one’s seen her since she checked into that motel.”

  “We know she’s alive,” Page said, his tone echoing his frustration. “She made that damn call. Why won’t she show herself?”

  “We have to start facing the fact that Gordon may have lied to you,” Highsmith said. “Darius may have been a victim in Hunter’s Point. Waters may have been the killer.”

  Page wished he could let Highsmith and Barrow know what Wayne Turner had told him. Then they would know Gordon was telling the truth.

  “Remember I suggested Gordon might be our killer, Al,” Highsmith continued. “I think we’d better start considering her very seriously. I can’t see any way she could have known we would find Lisa Darius in the basement, unless she put her there.

  “What if she visited Lisa and convinced her to help her break into Martin’s house to find evidence to convict him. They go through the woods. Lisa knows how to turn off the alarms. Martin Darius is at work all day and the house is deserted. She kills Lisa to frame Darius, waits until she sees him come home, then calls you. The only flaw in the plan is that Gordon doesn’t know about the surveillance teams.”

  “Nancy Gordon did not kill those women,” Page insisted. “Darius killed them, and he’s not beating this case.”

  “I’m not saying Darius isn’t guilty. I’m saying this case makes less and less sense every time I look at it.”

  Alan Page checked his watch. It was ten-thirty in Washington, D.C.

  “This is going nowhere. I want to attend Rick Tannenbaum’s funeral, and, believe it or not, I have some work to do that has nothing to do with Martin Darius or Rick Tannenbaum’s murder. Let me know about any developments immediately.”