Page 21 of Home to Stay


  “Okay. Well...I apologize for interrupting your swimming.”

  He picked up his shoes and jacket. With a final long look, he turned and walked toward the change rooms.

  Shannon kept her eyes on the direction he’d gone, even when he’d left and closed the door behind him.

  * * *

  THE POLICE WERE no closer to finding Dylan, determining who was responsible or even figuring out how he could’ve gotten the locket that had belonged to Jeannette. That meant Sawyer, Jeannette, their families, as well as Shannon, were left to deal with the reality of the situation.

  Leary had interviewed Juanita Sanchez again. She continued to be highly cooperative and obviously felt a great deal of blame over what had happened to Dylan. Other than poor judgment, she couldn’t be accused of much, since she’d done her best to take care of him. Shannon had been glad to hear that she’d found a job as a nanny with a professional family who had three young children.

  Shannon and Sawyer were both painfully aware of the statistics with respect to abducted children. The police began to consider the possibility that the perpetrator wasn’t necessarily—or not only—associated with Sawyer, but might have a connection to his wife. As a former social worker, Jeannette would’ve had exposure to a dangerous element of society, as well. With no workable leads and the factor of the necklace, they couldn’t ignore that possibility.

  Shannon felt the strain between her and Sawyer acutely. Although he’d never suggested it either by word or by action, Shannon firmly believed he held her responsible for Dylan’s second abduction.

  Shannon, for her part, struggled with a feeling of failure and began reexamining her decision to be a police officer.

  Was she fit for the job?

  She contemplated quitting the force. If she did that, she would be admitting failure and giving up on her life’s calling. And what would she do instead?

  As for Dylan, four days had passed and again there was no ransom note or any other hint of the motive for the abduction or who might have done it. Quickly eliminating Jeannette’s network of contacts from before her disappearance, the SDPD and FBI went back to the people Sawyer would’ve had conflicts with.

  Shannon needed to do what she could to help return Dylan to his home again. Logan had okayed her to go with Leary and Bigelow when they questioned Stewart Rankin, the drunk driver, once more. She was restricted to observing through the one-way mirror.

  Rankin was handcuffed and looked weak and repentant as he was escorted into the room. Leary signaled to the guard to uncuff him.

  As soon as his wrists were free, he rubbed at the red abrasions left by the cuffs.

  “Have a seat.” Leary motioned to the chair on the other side of the table.

  Rankin slid into it and slouched down. His gaze moved hesitantly from Leary to Bigelow and back again. Shannon saw no arrogance. No deception. She saw a broken young man who looked years older than he was.

  “We’d like to ask you some questions,” Bigelow began.

  Rankin’s head jerked. “Is it about the boy again? Is he still missing?”

  Shannon read the horror on his face but saw no guilt or gloating.

  “Yes,” Bigelow replied, without elaborating that this was the second time.

  “I told you before that I didn’t have anything to do with it,” Rankin mumbled in a defeated voice. “I wouldn’t hurt a child...” His voice drifted off; he must have remembered that two of the people he’d killed had been under sixteen. “Not intentionally,” he amended. “I just want out of here as early as I can manage. Why would I jeopardize that?”

  He sounded sincere to Shannon...and seemed cowed.

  “Then help us go through it again.” Bigelow gave Rankin a steely stare. “To make sure we have all the facts.”

  Bigelow and Leary took Rankin through all the same questions they’d asked before, looking for inconsistencies or contradictions. Shannon had read the reports. She knew Rankin was being consistent in his answers. There were no signs as far as she could see that he was lying or keeping anything back. The stress was taking a toll on him, but he didn’t falter in his responses. When they were approaching nearly an hour of questioning, Rankin finally broke down. His body started to shake and he covered his face with his hands. When he lowered them again, his cheeks were wet and his lips were twisted in a grimace.

  Shannon tensed.

  “Look, I did something dreadful. I killed five people. I didn’t intend to do it, but I was stupid and it happened. I’m in here for maybe twelve years, but even worse, I have to live with what I did for the rest of my life! You might not care. You might not understand. But I suffer through each day with the knowledge of what I did.

  “Do you really think I’d add to that by somehow being responsible for harming a child? What kind of monster do you think I am? Don’t answer that. I am a monster for driving drunk, but...” He covered his face again as sobs racked his body. “You have to believe me! I wouldn’t have...knowingly...hurt those people and...I wouldn’t do anything...to a child,” he managed haltingly.

  If not for the fact that Rankin had killed those people, Shannon might’ve felt sorry for him at that moment.

  “Haven’t I paid the price already?” he pleaded. He rested his head in his hands. “No, no, that’s wrong. I can never pay the price for what I did. But I’m in here, my family’s virtually disowned me and Elaine couldn’t end things fast enough after the sentencing. I have no life, no job, no family, nothing. Why would I want to make matters worse by doing what you think I did?”

  Bigelow signaled the guard, and he and Leary rose to leave.

  Shannon watched a few minutes longer as Rankin cried uncontrollably. No, he wouldn’t have had anything to do with the abduction, she thought. Still no answers.

  Frustrated, she spun away from the one-way glass.

  She met Bigelow and Leary in the corridor outside the interrogation room. They’d arranged for a private office at the detention center for their use to debrief and went there now. Leary poured three cups of coffee and took them to the meeting table. Before they could begin, there was a knock at the door and Logan came in.

  He greeted everyone present, got a cup of coffee for himself and sat down next to Shannon.

  “How did it go?” he asked.

  “He’s not our perp,” Leary said, confirming Shannon’s own assessment.

  Logan turned to Bigelow, who nodded in agreement. “So where do we go from here?”

  Shannon could practically see the exasperation rippling off all three men. She understood it, because she felt it, too. “Who’s Elaine?” she blurted out. “Who was she to Rankin?”

  Leary turned tired eyes on her. “Elaine Brant. Rankin’s ex-fiancée.”

  Right. That made sense, since Rankin had said she’d left him.

  “Have you spoken to her?”

  “We had a brief conversation when we were looking at Rankin’s family. She hung around for the trial, but once the sentence was handed down, as Rankin said, she hightailed it out of there and away from him as fast as she could. The family hasn’t heard from her since. She moved on with a new guy in no time at all. We get the sense she wasn’t overly invested in her relationship with Rankin. My guess is it was about his family’s money.”

  And if it was about the money and she was involved in the abduction, you could bet there would’ve been a ransom demand right away. Shannon had to agree that Rankin, his family and his ex-fiancée seemed like a dead end. “What about that guy Sawyer sent to jail, the one who embezzled the money from his company?”

  “No. We cleared him.”

  “Didn’t his wife take it poorly? Had a meltdown in the courtroom?”

  “Yeah. Amanda Blackstone. We’ve spoken to her, too. We’ve cleared all of them once, but we’ll have another look.”


  “Time is not on our side,” Logan added quietly. “If you need more resources, let me know. I’ll pull whatever strings I need to.”

  * * *

  SHANNON WAS GLAD her days were full, because it kept her mind off Sawyer and Dylan. Having just finished an assignment—finding a young girl who’d decided to run away from home when her mother had insisted she play outside instead of watch television—the first thing Shannon did when she got in her Explorer was check her phone. She had a number of messages. Two from Beth and one from Logan. All three reminded her of a unit meeting at eleven. Checking the time, she realized she’d have to hustle. Fortunately, traffic cooperated and she made it on time.

  After parking, she rushed into the division building, Darwin loping along beside her. Logan wanted everyone in attendance at the meeting. That meant it was something significant.

  She reached the conference room with hardly a minute to spare. Darwin was with her, whether Logan liked it or not, since she hadn’t had time to put him in his kennel. She bumped into Rick as she entered. He steadied her and gave her an encouraging smile. All the seats in the conference room were taken, so they stood near the door. “I heard about you finding the runaway child today. Great work—”

  Before he could finish, Logan called the meeting to order.

  It was only then that Shannon noticed there was a stranger in the room. He was leaning against the side counter. He looked dangerous, a jagged scar on his chin. If she’d seen him on the street, she’d wager he was involved in the drug trade. One of the cartels, perhaps, that Rick worked so hard to break.

  Easily, he had to be over six feet tall. He had jet-black hair and eyes just as dark. His gaze met hers, and he insolently slid it from her eyes down to her feet and back up again.

  Shannon was not one to intimidate easily, but she felt decidedly uncomfortable under his scrutiny.

  Who the heck was he anyway, and what was he doing in their unit meeting?

  “I have some news to share with you,” Logan announced, drawing Shannon’s attention away from the stranger. “First, I’d like to introduce you to Quinn Langdon.”

  The stranger pushed off from the counter and gave a little salute to the room.

  “I’d like you to join me in welcoming Quinn to our unit. He comes to us with considerable experience, having worked with Harbor Patrol for ten years. Quinn brings with him his canine partner, Cyrus. Quinn and Cyrus are being reassigned to the SDPD from Harbor Patrol on the first of next month.”

  There were murmurs of welcome. Those standing closest to Quinn shook his hand or slapped his back.

  “Despite being multipurpose, Cyrus does have a particular skill in cadaver detection.”

  The room fell silent at this declaration. They’d never had a cadaver dog before.

  Changing times, she thought, and not in a positive way.

  “The reason Quinn’s joining us is because there are some other changes I want to share with you.” He scanned the faces, took their measure. Shannon knew that Logan had high emotional intelligence and could judge his audience accurately. She sensed, from his demeanor, that whatever he had to say would not be well-received.

  “I’m pleased to announce that Cal Palmer, after eight years of service in the unit, is being promoted to sergeant.”

  Shannon glance at Rick, who was still standing next to her. What was happening with him then? Their unit wasn’t large enough for two sergeants.

  She didn’t have to wait long to find out.

  “To address the question I know most of you have, Rick is being promoted to captain of the K-9 Unit.”

  She heard a couple of immediate murmurs, but then the room fell eerily silent. She was certain everyone had the same question in mind. What did that mean for Logan?

  “And if you’re wondering,” Logan continued. He seemed flustered all of a sudden. An unusual state for Jagger. “I’ll be moving into the role of Assistant Chief.”

  Shannon heard more surprised murmurs before a raucous round of applause burst out across the room. Back-slapping, handshakes and bear hugs followed.

  When it was Shannon’s turn, she stuck out her hand. “Congratulations, Logan. That’s terrific. So well deserved,” she said.

  He looked deep into her eyes. “But?” he asked.

  “Damn it all. I’m going to miss you. You gave me this opportunity. You were instrumental in my training. Don’t get me wrong. I think the world of Rick. It’s just that.... It’s just that I’ll miss you,” she repeated, before she gave him a hug, too.

  He patted her back. “You’ll do fine. Rick’s going to be a great captain. He deserves the promotion.”

  “So do you,” she said. She stepped back and to her immense embarrassment, felt the sting of tears in her eyes. She must be overtired if her emotions were getting the better of her so frequently. She turned away from Logan, and her gaze collided with Quinn’s.

  She was irritated to see his brows rise and his lips curve.

  She was okay with having Rick as her new captain and certainly Cal as her sergeant, but something told her she wouldn’t be so comfortable with the new officer.

  Having had enough surprises for one day, she called Darwin. As soon as she could do so politely, she left the conference room.

  Turning the corner into the squad room, she came to an abrupt halt. Lying not three feet from her desk was the most gorgeous German shepherd she’d ever seen. He was alert and had expressive, intelligent eyes. His leash was lying next to him, but he was holding what she was certain had been a “down-stay” command.

  He must be Quinn’s dog, she concluded. She took several steps forward, then realized that the dog was so close to her desk she couldn’t get to it without her and Darwin passing right by him.

  She needed to establish her dominance from the start and took a couple of slower steps toward him.

  “You can approach him,” a deep male voice said from behind her. “He’ll be fine with your dog, too. At ease, Cyrus,” he added for the benefit of the dog as she glanced over her shoulder.

  “Thanks,” she said. Instructing Darwin to “sit-stay,” she closed the gap between her and Cyrus. She held out a hand for him to scent. She crouched down and rubbed him behind his ears. “He’s beautiful.” Whatever she thought of the new cop, she couldn’t deny that his dog was a beauty. “How old is he?”

  “He’ll be five next month. He’ll probably be up for retirement soon.”

  She looked over at Quinn. “That’s early, even for a police dog.”

  Quinn shrugged. “We’ve been through a lot together. He’s earned it.”

  The tone of his voice was incongruous with his appearance. Especially talking about his dog, he sounded gentle. Caring. Even the lines on his face had softened from what he’d looked like in the conference room. His smile was warm, maybe a little melancholy.

  A vague memory stirred about a Harbor Patrol officer who’d taken a bullet for his dog. If that was Quinn and he loved his dog as much as he seemed to, he couldn’t be all bad.

  Before she could say anything else, Logan called to her.

  “You’re needed,” he told her from the doorway of his office.

  “Welcome to the unit,” she said to Quinn as she rose. “What’s the situation?” she asked Logan when she and Darwin reached him.

  “There’s been a development. Bigelow and Leary have asked for your assistance.”

  She felt a sudden tightness in her belly.

  “Rankin’s outburst and mention of his fiancée, Elaine Brant, followed by your question, got them to take a closer look at her. Brant hadn’t been noteworthy originally when they considered the people connected to Rankin, as you know. They want your help to check Brant’s apartment. See if there’s any indication Dylan might have been there.”

  “Sure. Of course.” S
hannon’s heart rate kicked up a notch. “What have they got?” She heard the hope in her own voice.

  “Nothing substantive, but they don’t want to leave any stone unturned. They verified that Brant broke off the engagement to Rankin as soon as he was sentenced, and she married someone else shortly thereafter. A dentist. What is of interest—and you know I don’t believe in coincidence—is that she’d taken a sudden leave of absence from her job as a nutritionist the day Dylan was abducted the second time. Leary and Bigelow checked with the building manager of her apartment, and he hasn’t seen her for a while. He suspects that her apartment has been unoccupied for a few days.

  “Brant’s family hasn’t been in contact with her, either, but they told Leary and Bigelow that her marriage ended. They talked to the estranged husband, as well, who corroborated the family’s story. He has no information regarding her whereabouts, either. According to him, the split had been brewing for some time, and they had a major blowup about six months ago. She stormed out. After that, she used her credit card and took cash out of ATMs regularly—until he froze their joint account—so he wasn’t worried that any harm had befallen her. She seemed to have moved around after their split, staying with friends or short-term rentals, and taking odd jobs advising on nutrition and overall health.”

  “So, she’s not likely either,” Shannon concluded.

  “Not any more or less than the others on our radar screen, but worth looking at and eliminating. As a start, to gain entry to her apartment, you and Darwin will have to provide probable cause for a search warrant. Especially with the passage of time, you’re our best bet to determine whether Dylan was in that unit or not.”

  He handed her a piece of paper. “This is the address. Bigelow and Leary are on their way. They’ll be waiting for you when you get there.”

  Shannon slipped the sheet of paper into her shirt pocket. She grabbed her duffel from under her desk and on her way to the parking lot, she stopped by the evidence room to retrieve Dylan’s clothing, which they still held, thankful that the airtight bag it was sealed in would have retained his scent.