Gone (35 page)

Sure, that’s exactly what he’s concerned about, Clare thought grimly.

“Thank you, Jonathan,” she said.

They said their goodbyes and Clare disconnected.

Cohen had left another message for her. That made two. She had no doubt he’d seen or heard of the interview with Lauren Duval and was calling to rake her over the coals. She winced. She had to call him back, but in truth she didn’t know what she would say to him. If he wanted her to pull back from the investigation, or worse step out of it altogether, she couldn’t do that. He could order her off. Agents weren’t usually involved in investigations that were personal to them. But, even if ordered, she would not let this go. She was going to force him to either suspend her or get rid of her. Either way, that conversation wasn’t going to end well. Her career would be damaged at the end of it. She decided to delay calling him back.

She left the table and went in search of more coffee. As she was refilling her cup, she glimpsed Sammie and Heather in the Norths’ yard. The girls were seated beneath a Palmetto tree, surrounded by a pageant of dolls. One of them wore a costume that glittered like stars.

Stars.
Stars.

Clare hobbled quickly to the table in the dining room. Coffee sloshed over the rim of the mug, dousing her knuckles.
“Damn!”

She plopped the mug onto the table then, with her fingers still dripping and smarting from the hot liquid, grabbed the file on the Sara McCowan disappearance and began rifling through the pages. She skimmed them quickly, the papers snapping beneath her fingertips.

Something. She’d read something in one of the statements the other night. It seemed familiar. She hadn’t known why then. An instant later the statement she’d been seeking was in her hand. It was Kelly Price’s interview with Detective Brownley. Clare scanned the pages.

She grabbed her cell phone from the table and called Jake. Belatedly, she remembered Jake’s meeting with the town council. She was about to disconnect and proceed alone, when he picked up.

She wasted no time getting to the point. “The other night I read something in one of the statements that seemed familiar. I didn’t know why then. I do now.”

“Which statement?” Jake asked.

“Kelly Price’s interview with Brownley. Something about the clubs she mentioned seemed familiar. My second day in town I met Richard Dannon.”

“Connie Dannon’s husband. You mentioned he hit on you.” Jake’s tone went cold as he said that.

“Part of his pitch was that he’d show me around Columbia. He knew all the hot spots. Blah, blah, blah. But he mentioned one in particular: The Starlight. Could be nothing more than a coincidence. The Starlight is a public place, no reason Rich Dannon and every other man in Farley couldn’t go there. But, the fact is we don’t know about every other man; we do know about Dannon. I want to ask him about Sara McCowan.”

“I’ll pick you up in ten minutes,” Jake said.

* * * * *

Rich Dannon had agreed to speak with Jake and Clare at the Bureau office. It seemed to Clare that Dannon preferred to speak there, rather than where they’d found him thirty minutes earlier, at his regular haunt, Charley’s Bar. In this instance, he’d opted to be out of the prying eyes of the other patrons.

Outside an interview room at the Bureau office, Clare turned to Jake. “I want to take the lead with Dannon.”

Jake nodded.

Clare entered the interview room. She set her crutch on the floor and took a chair at the table, across from Dannon, who was dressed as Clare usually saw him, in casual businesswear. A sport coat in beige over a crisp white shirt made the most of his tanned good looks. Jake took up a position against a wall, leaning a shoulder against the faded gray paint.

“What can you tell us about Sara McCowan?” Clare asked.

“Sara McCowan?” Dannon’s voice cracked. Sweat broke out on his brow. “That the case you talked about on the TV show? The girl that went missing a few years back?”

“That’s the one.” Clare kept her eyes on his. “How did you meet Sara, Rich?”

Dannon gave a nervous laugh. “Hey, do I need a lawyer here?”

He was sweating profusely now, perspiration dripping down the side of his face and into the collar of his shirt.

“It’s certainly your right to have an attorney,” Clare said. “We can call your wife if you’d like, and she can make arrangements for one to join us here.”

Her mention of his wife had the desired effect; Rich Dannon blanched.

“No.” Dannon bobbed up, coming halfway out of the chair. “We can just clear this up here and now and be done with it. No need to get formal. Lawyers just muddy up the waters anyway.”

“Once again, then, how did you meet Sara, Rich?” Clare said.

“It’s been four years. I only saw Sara a couple of times.”

“What happened to her, Rich?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know.”

“Tell me about the night you met Sara.”

Dannon stretched his neck, as if the collar of his shirt was too tight. “We were in The Starlight. She was pretty and looking for a good time. I’m always ready for a good time. I went over to her. Bought her a couple drinks. We partied some more and then we got a room at one of the motels on the street.” He shrugged. “After, I went home.”

“When did you see her again?”

“Who says I did?” Dannon’s Adam’s apple bobbed like a ship in a storm-tossed sea.

Clare knew she had him and didn’t respond to his question.

“Okay. Okay. Before I left, we made plans to get together again. Not at The Starlight. For dinner. Sara wanted a real date.” Dannon leveled his shoulders, sitting straight in the chair. “I showed her that I’m not like those piss-ant college boys she’s used to seeing. I took her to a restaurant.” He jutted out his chin. “A nice place.”

“Go on.”

He shrugged. “She had a few drinks. Took a hit of Ex and was in party mode again. We almost didn’t make it to a room. She was something. I have to tell you.” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, the next day, she came to Farley. I never told her where I lived. I never do. But we’d been fooling around and she got hold of my wallet and my driver’s license and it was all laid out for her.

“When she showed up in town,” Dannon said, “I was shocked. I was not expecting her. She was walking on Bridge Road when I drove by heading for Charley’s. She was on her way to my wife, Connie’s Inn, to rent a room. Shit, I couldn’t have that. I offered to drive her back to the city. She asked me if there wasn’t some place where we could go to be alone together and then I could drive her back in the morning.” Dannon licked his lips. “My daddy, who passed on, had a fishing cabin in the backwoods. I use it sometimes to—ah—fish.”

Clare didn’t think fishing was the sport Dannon indulged in at the cabin, but kept the thought to herself.

“I wanted her out of sight so I drove her there,” Dannon went on. “No one else uses it; it’s mine and I keep it stocked. I planned to talk with her and then drive her back to the city, but we had a couple drinks. Sara popped a couple pills and we didn’t end up talking. After, I left, telling her I had to get home but I’d be back early the next morning to drive her back to Columbia. I was thinking before anyone could see her with me. But when I showed up at the cabin about six the next morning, she wasn’t there. She’d cleared out.

“I tell you I felt relieved,” Dannon said. “Sara had the makings of getting clingy. I couldn’t afford the hassle. I didn’t want Connie to find out, and I had the feeling that Sara wasn’t going to go away quietly with a small token of my affection.” He swiped the sleeve of his jacket across his glistening brow. “But she was gone. And with no hassle. I was in the clear.”

“You didn’t wonder where she’d gone from your remote cabin? In the middle of nowhere?” Clare asked.

“Maybe she called one of her girlfriends to come get her. Frankly, I didn’t care. All I cared about was that she was gone. I’d dodged a bullet with that one.” He pushed damp blonde hair back from his face. His hand trembled. “Sara said she’d be going back home end of the next week. I stayed away from The Starlight. I stayed out of Columbia altogether. I didn’t want to take a chance of maybe running into her again somewhere.”

“And when you heard that she’d turned up missing?” Clare said. “You didn’t come forward?”

Dannon huffed out a breath and flung out his arm. “Hey, she wasn’t reported missing for I don’t know how long after I’d last seen her. Didn’t have anything to do with me.”

“We’ll have to see about that, Mr. Dannon,” Clare said. “What about Beth? Did you think it might be exciting to get it on with your wife’s sister-in-law? Did you also take Beth to your cabin?”

“Whoa!” He held up a hand. “I don’t know anything about Beth! I told you that!”

Clare sneered. “Yeah, and you’ve proven that your word is golden.”

She left the interview room, muscles tight. Dannon was the last person known to have seen Sara McCowan. He feared that she would expose their affair to his wife. He had motive and opportunity for wanting Sara to disappear.

Clare was waiting in the hall when Jake emerged from the interview room. Stan, who’d been observing through the two-way glass, joined them.

Jake addressed Stan. “Get the warrants going to search the cabin and Dannon’s property.”

Stan nodded. “Which judge do you want me to call? Ivanson’s in the hospital with a heart thing, I heard.”

Clare left them to their decision and made her way to the kitchen. Jonathan had made a fresh pot of coffee and set out a plate of sticky buns. The scent of cinnamon blended with the aroma of the coffee, but her stomach was too tight for food. Leaning on her crutch, she bent to the water cooler and filled a paper cup.

She was sipping slowly when Jake went to her.

“How are you holding up?” he asked.

“I’m fine. This could all be over very soon. We may find what we need to lead us to Sara and Beth in Dannon’s cabin.”

Before Jake could reply, Jonathan wheeled in. “Pardon me,” he said. “Jake, you have a phone call on line one. A reporter from L. A., asking about the Sara McCowan case.”

Jake faced Jonathan. “Tell him the investigation is ongoing. We have no comment at this time.”