Don't Cry (33 page)

“Blondish brown hair, blue eyes, medium height and build. Pretty-boy good-looking. Last name of Bryant. Ring any bells?”

“Porter Bryant is Corey Bennett!”

Driving like the proverbial bat out of hell, J.D. arrived at police headquarters twenty minutes after he got off the phone with Phil Hayes. But before leaving home, he'd called Tam and told her that they had found Corey Bennett and he'd fill her and Garth in on the details as soon as they met. Phil had told him that he would contact Chief Mullins.

“I want you to do something for me,” J.D. had told Phil.

“Okay, what do you need?”

“Have Chief Mullins station an officer outside Audrey Sherrod's town house and follow her if she leaves home today. Tell him this needs to be a discreet operation.”

“You think Porter Bryant is a danger to—?”

“Possibly. Bryant and Dr. Sherrod dated for a while. When she broke things off with him, he came damn near close to stalking her for a while. I don't want to take any chances.”

“Is this personal for you, J.D.?”

“In a way.”

“I'll see to it immediately.”

J.D. parked his Camaro, got out, dashed across the road, and hurried into the police station. Tam met him moments after he entered and offered him a cup of coffee.

“I figured by the way you sounded when you called that you wouldn't take time even for coffee this morning,” she said.

He accepted the mug and walked with her into Garth's office, where the sergeant waited at his desk.

“Close the door,” J.D. told her.

Tam closed the door. “What's going on? You said that you know who Corey Bennett is. Does that mean he's using an alias?”

J.D. set his coffee mug on Tam's desk and turned to face the CPD investigators. “If he'd had a birth certificate, which he didn't, the information would have read Corey Ray Bennett. Mother, Regina Bennett. Father, unknown. But he didn't have a birth certificate, just as his brother Cody didn't have one. It seems the Bennett boys were twins.”

“Twins? Then Regina Bennett really did have another son,” Tam said.

“What happened to Corey?” Garth asked. “Where is he now?”

“A better question is who is he now.” J.D. glanced from Tam to Garth.

“Don't tell me he's someone we know,” Tam guessed.

“When Corey Bennett was eight years old, Luther Chaney died, Regina was admitted to Moccasin Bend, and Dora Chaney moved away and remarried less than a year later. She took Corey—more than likely her husband's son—with her to Bristol, but the new husband wouldn't allow her to keep the boy, so she sold him.”

“This is old information, Cass,” Garth grumbled.

“The boy was adopted by a well-to-do Lexington, Kentucky, couple. Morris and Lynn Bryant.” J.D. waited, allowing the surname to sink into their minds.

“Morris and Lynn Bryant.” Tam repeated the names a couple of times. Her eyes widened in shock. “You can't mean that…” She gulped. “My God, is Porter Bryant—?”

“Porter Bryant is Corey Bennett?” Garth shot up out of his chair.

“One and the same.” When J.D. saw Garth reach for his phone, he quickly said, “Audrey's safe. She has protection. Phil Hayes took care of it for me.”

Garth visibly relaxed, but frustration and anger stamped tension lines on his face. “Think of all the time you've wasted suspecting Hart.” Garth mumbled several obscenities. “And apparently you were dead wrong about Jeremy Arden, too. And all along the real killer was right under your nose.”

“He was right under our noses, too,” Tam pointed out to her partner. “How could J.D. have known? How could anyone have known? Porter Bryant certainly seems normal. He's hardly the type you'd suspect of being a serial killer. My God, I've socialized with the man for months. My best friend dated him.” Tam groaned. “Oh, God, how is Audrey going to feel when she finds out?”

“Audrey's feelings aren't important at the moment,” J.D. said. “What's important is putting a surveillance team on Bryant ASAP. If he is our killer—”

“What do you mean
if
he's our killer?” Garth asked.

“Just because he's Regina Bennett's son and fits the general description of our killer and the man who purchased the 1980s Lincoln from Eugene Vann doesn't mean he's the Rocking Chair Killer.”

“You're right,” Tam said. “We have no proof whatsoever.”

“That's why we're going to watch him twenty-four/seven. If he abducted Somer Ellis, sooner or later, he'll go to wherever he's keeping her. And when he does, we'll follow him.”

“What if he's already killed her?”

“We'll work under the assumption that he hasn't,” J.D. said.

“We can haul Bryant's ass in here and beat the truth out of him.” Garth spat the words through clenched teeth.

“That's emotion talking,” J.D. told him. “Not logic.”

“The last thing we want is for him to have any idea that we suspect him.” Tam watched her partner closely, waiting for his reply. J.D. figured she'd seen Garth Hudson's temper get the best of him on more than one occasion.

Garth grunted. “Yeah, yeah, you're right.”

“As soon as Chief Mullins and SAC Hayes arrive, I want us to have a plan of action to present to them so that we can implement it without any delays. The sooner we start keeping tabs on Porter Bryant's every move, the sooner we may find Somer Ellis and capture the Rocking Chair Killer.”

“Commander Nicholson will want to have a predeployment briefing before the surveillance is started,” Tam reminded them.

“Right,” J.D. said. “Call Hugh and ask him to join us.”

 

Porter had a standing Saturday-morning appointment for a manicure and a monthly appointment with his hair stylist. Today was the Saturday for both. He was a man who appreciated the finer things in life, thanks to his parents, Morris and Lynn Bryant. Lynn had been a meticulous lady in every aspect of her life, from the furnishings in her beautiful home to her impeccable personal appearance. Her fastidiousness had rubbed off on him, as had his father's love of the law. From the age of twelve, he had known he would one day make Morris proud of him by becoming a lawyer. The Bryants had adored him, had treated him as if he were their own, had given him everything money could buy. And he had loved them and appreciated the life they had given him.

He still missed them.

Losing his father had been difficult, but when he had lost his mother, he had been devastated. Lynn Bryant had been his ideal woman. Elegant, attractive, intelligent. When he met Audrey Sherrod, he had immediately perceived a similarity between her and his mother and had mistakenly assumed she would make him the perfect mate.

He had been so certain. But he had been wrong.

Of course, he knew that there was someone out there, someone with his mother's sterling qualities who would be proud to be Mrs. Porter Bryant.

He checked his Rolex. 3:38 P.M.

Enjoying the view of downtown from his penthouse apartment, Porter poured himself another glass of Chablis Premier Cru, a twelve-year-old vintage. He appreciated the steely edge to the light, crisp, fruity wine.

Despite not yet having found the right woman, Porter enjoyed his life. By thirty, he had accomplished a great deal and was already an ADA. By the time he was forty, perhaps he would be the DA or even a young congressman or senator. Or there might be a judgeship in his future.

But for now, he was satisfied.

Or he would be once he had kept his promise to Regina Bennett.

He never would have found her again if not for his mother. After his father's death, he had discovered documents his mother had stored away in her safety deposit box, documents that told his life story. Adoption papers. Newspaper clippings. Letters from Regina, addressed to My Sweet Corey, mailed to him over the years in care of Dora Chaney. Apparently, Dora had forwarded the letters to Lynn.

He had been barely nine when the woman he had thought of as his grandmother had handed him over to strangers. He had been too young to understand why she had done such an unforgivable thing, just as he'd been too young to understand why his mother had disappeared months before that. Dora Chaney had told him that his mother didn't want him any longer and neither did she.

Over the years, those first nine years of his life had gradually slipped into the recesses of his subconscious, coming alive only occasionally in his dreams. What he had remembered at odd times was the sound of a woman's voice singing.

Hush, little baby, don't you cry.

And there had been times when he had looked at himself in the mirror and had seen two identical images staring back at him. The ghost of his twin brother, Cody. He had never forgotten his brother.

When he had discovered that Regina Bennett, the woman accused of being the Baby Blue kidnapper, was his biological mother, he had felt compelled to go and see her. But he could hardly visit a convicted murderess as ADA Porter Bryant. However, Regina's “nephew” Corey could visit her. It had taken very little in the way of a disguise to hide his true identity.

Looking back on that first meeting with Regina, he recalled the instant recognition. He had known her the moment he saw her, and the memories of his life with her and his brother resurfaced gradually over the next few months, more and more with each visit.

Despite who she was and what she had done, Regina Bennett had given birth to him. She had loved him. Dora Chaney had lied when she'd told him his mother didn't want him. And when Regina had asked only one thing of him, he had felt compelled to keep the promise he had made her.

Promise me that you'll go there and find Cody. I want him to be with me in heaven. Put him in my arms so I can hold him forever.

 

Somer Ellis kissed her husband. His lips were warm and moist and gentle. She loved Quint. Being his wife made her so happy. Their life together wasn't perfect, but it was good and held the promise of a bright future.

Today was a glorious day. Springtime warm, the sun shimmering, the birds singing outside her bedroom window, a soft breeze blowing the curtains and sweeping inside with sweet, fresh air.

She stretched languidly as she lay in Quint's arms, completely content.

“I love you.” Quint nuzzled her neck.

She turned into his arms and smiled at him. “I love you, too.”

“Let's not wait to go to Hawaii,” he said. “Let's go now. We'll take our savings and if that's not enough, we'll put the rest on a credit card. Life's too short to waste dreaming about the things we want to do.”

“
Yes, Quint, yes, life is too short….”

 

Somer's eyelids flew open. A silent cry screamed inside her head when she realized that she had been dreaming. She wasn't at home safe in Quint's arms. She was still strapped to this damn rocking chair, alone in the darkness, waiting for her captor, wondering if, when he came back the next time, he would kill her.

 

The 24/7 surveillance paid off sooner rather than later. Having no idea that anyone knew his true identity and suspected him of being the Rocking Chair Killer, Porter left his home that Saturday evening, not realizing his every move was being watched.

When he headed north from downtown Chattanooga, taking US-27, in his pursuit of Corey Bennett/Porter Bryant, J.D. suspected the guy was on his way to Sale Creek. The minute Bryant had left his penthouse and gotten behind the wheel of his expensive Lotus Exige—a $65,000 sports car—J.D. had eased the nondescript black Chevy Impala into the traffic, keeping at least two car lengths behind him. Another unmarked car that had been parked a block from the penthouse and was driven by TBI agent Will Brannock fell in behind J.D. By the time he passed the Soddy-Daisy/Sequoia exit, two more unmarked cars, both driven by county deputies, had joined the team, the four men keeping in radio contact as they followed Porter Bryant.

The CPD, TBI, and Hamilton County sheriff's department were working together as a team. A vast number of personnel had been assigned as a precautionary measure: intelligence, homicide, fugitive, and narcotics investigators.

As soon as the silver Lotus exited onto TN-29 N toward Dayton, J.D. knew he'd guessed right. Porter was headed for Sale Creek, probably the old Chaney farmstead. The Hamilton County sheriff's department was providing more backup, as was the CPD, including their SWAT team. But everyone involved knew the importance of keeping a safe distance behind the suspect. Tam and Garth were bringing up the rear.

Garth Hudson was a hothead and this case was personal for him. The last thing J.D. needed was for the veteran officer to go off half cocked and blow this entire operation. If he didn't trust Tam to keep Garth under control, he would have excluded them from the unit.

 

Excitement coursed through Porter's body, following the flow of his blood and affecting every nerve ending. Tonight he would completely fulfill his promise to Regina Bennett, his birth mother. Tonight she and Cody would be together eternally. In only a few hours, it would all be over and he would be free to continue his life, move forward, and forever put the past behind him.

Once she had gone to be with Cody, he would miss her, of course. How sad to think that he would never hear her sing again, never stand beside her and watch her rocking Cody and soothing his cries. How many nights as a young child had he stood and watched her lavish love and attention on his twin brother? How many times had he wished he and Cody could trade places so that he could be the center of their mother's world? He hadn't understood back then that Cody had been dying.

He gripped the steering wheel, his palms damp inside his stylish driving gloves, as he veered off the highway and onto Leggett Road. His heartbeat hummed inside his head. He met a couple of oncoming cars, each dimming its lights as it approached, and he noticed several sets of headlights behind him.

Mile after mile zipped by quickly as he increased the Lotus's speed without even realizing what he was doing. Driving faster than he intended, he almost missed the turnoff that would take him past the old Chaney farmhouse and eventually carry him to the dirt road leading deep into the woods.