The Wharf (7 page)

She rolled to her side and flung out her arm. Her hand hit an immovable object, and she peeled open one eye.

Perching on the edge of the bed, Ryan smiled at her. “You dozed off.”

She opened her other eye, noticed her hand resting against his thigh and snatched it back. She grabbed a pillow and hugged it to her body, bringing her knees to her chest.

“Was I out long?” Had she been snoring? Drooling? She wiped the back of her hand across her dry mouth.

“About an hour.”

“Sorry.” Why wouldn’t he remove himself from the bed?

“No worries. You looked so peaceful over here I didn’t want to disturb you.”

She rubbed her eyes and scooched up to a sitting position, still clutching the pillow to her chest. “Did you find anything?”

“I did, just now.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder.

“You found DB?” Her fingertips buzzed and she dropped the pillow to her lap. She would’ve swung her legs off the bed, but Ryan’s six-foot-something frame of solid muscle blocked her way.

He must’ve read the trapped-animal look in her eyes because he eased off the bed and took a step back. “It looks like DB is Duke Bannister. He was convicted of first-degree murder and sent to the big house for twenty-five to life. Served twenty-two of those years and then got paroled last year.”

Tossing the pillow to the side, she scrambled from the bed. “Who’d he kill?”

“His sister.”

She tripped and he caught her around the waist. “Careful.”

“Bannister told me I reminded him of his sister.”

“Even more reason for me to come with you tonight.” Ryan gave her hip a pat before releasing her.

Taking his vacated place in front of the computer, she dragged the chair forward and studied the screen. “Now that I know who he is, I can dig around his background and see if I can find out whether or not he’s working for Walker.”

“You may be able to find that out tonight.”

“How?” She pushed her bedhead hair from her face. “He’s not about to tell me if I ask him.”

“You won’t have to ask him. If he attacks you, you’ll have your answer.”

She hunched her shoulders. “That’s not going to happen.”

“Really? The dude killed his own sister.”

“Okay, maybe you’re right, but you’re my muscle tonight.” She bit her lip and busied herself printing out Bannister’s page, second-guessing her plan to meet with Ryan in person. She’d have been better off conducting an interview with him over the phone or even over the computer. The man’s presence was scrambling her thoughts and overloading her senses.

“We have about forty minutes. I’m going to get ready. Can we meet in the lobby in a half an hour?”

“Sure.”

She strode to the door and opened it wide, watching him as he moved from the room into the hallway. “Thanks for doing all the work while I snoozed.”

“No problem. It looked like you needed the rest.”

She pulled the door closed and banged her forehead against it. She needed to wrap up this interview process and get down to the business of proving Joseph Brody’s guilt beyond a shadow of a doubt.

She brushed her teeth, finger-combed her hair and stuffed her feet into a pair of canvas shoes. They’d do if she had to take off in a sprint.

Ryan had beaten her to the punch again, greeting her with a big smile in the lobby ten minutes early.

“Are you always early?” She threw her sweater over her shoulders, letting it hang.

“Are you?”

“Pretty much.”

“Me too.”

Drawing her small purse across her body, she asked, “How is this going to work?”

“Tell me where you met him last time. You start out first and I’ll follow you, slinking along in the shadows. I won’t be far behind you at any given time, but you won’t see me and neither will Bannister.”

“Should I use a code word or something if I get into trouble?”

“If you want to play spy games, go for it. Otherwise, a good old-fashioned scream will work.”

“I mean—” she stepped through the front door of the hotel and nodded at the doorman “—if I start feeling nervous and I just want you to be primed and ready.”

“I’m always primed and ready.”

He winked at her and she rolled her eyes, but she could believe it with that body. “You know what I mean.”

“I do. How about ‘sauna’? It’s where we first met, where I rescued you from danger the first time.”

“The first time?” She raised her eyebrows. “Do you think there will be a second?”

“There could be tonight—that’s the point.”

“Okay, ‘sauna’ it is.” She gave him the location of her first meeting with Bannister and set out ahead of him, her footsteps jaunty and her head held high.

The usual transients went about their usual business, but this time she eyed each one, wondering if he could have been the one who delivered the doll to the hotel.

The moist air off the bay caressed her face and worked through the waves of her hair. Even though she’d left the city as a child for Seattle with her new family, the smells and feel of San Francisco had never left her—and never would.

She cranked her head over her shoulder once, but couldn’t see one trace of Ryan. He was probably taking a different route to stake out a good location, and with his dark clothing and 49ers cap pulled low on his face, he’d blend right into the scenery of the wharf.

Knots formed in her belly as she waited to cross the street before hitting the walkway along the wharf. Most of the restaurants were shutting down for the night or trying to, and all of the street performers had rolled up their props and gadgets from the sidewalk. Tourists still crisscrossed the streets, weaving in and out of the shops still open for business. The homeless population, the silent army of the night, shuffled from doorway to bench to bus stop, searching for a place to park their possessions.

She strode through the crosswalk and turned left toward the less-populated area of the wharf, its tourist attractions long closed for the day. She spotted the low-slung building where she’d met Duke Bannister—assuming that was his actual name—the night before and dragged in a long breath.

Her gaze scanned the vacant side of the building. The last time he’d come from around the corner of that building. Easier for a surprise attack?

Tensing her muscles, she lightly clenched her hands at her sides. If Bannister got to her before Ryan got to him, she planned to do a little damage of her own first.

She slowed her steps and cleared her throat. “DB?”

If she used his real name, she might spook him. And she definitely wanted to hear what he had to say.

She froze. Had she heard a cough?

“DB?” She reached the building and trailed her hand along the damp metal, stopping at the corner.

“I-it’s Kacie.”

A soft sigh floated from around the corner of the building. Was he playing some kind of game with her?

“Are you there?” If Bannister was lurking around the corner in a suspicious manner, Ryan would notice that. Wouldn’t he?

She held her breath and gripped the edge of the building. She leaned forward, turning her head to the side. A man sat on a bench facing the water, a hat perched on his head, one arm resting across the back of the bench.

“DB, it’s Kacie.” She crept forward, the soft soles of her shoes a whisper on the pavement.

Her jaw ached with tension, and her little sips of air had her lungs burning. She couldn’t see his other hand, which could’ve been resting in his lap. Holding a weapon?

Her first swallow became a lump in her throat and she tried again. She approached DB from the back and laid a hand on his denim-clad shoulder.

Her fingertips met moisture. She snatched her hand back and peered at her fingers in the dim yellow light spilling from a bulb on the outside of the building.

The smell of blood invaded her nostrils—heavy, metallic. Rubbing her sticky fingers together, she circled the bench and dropped to her knees in front of DB.

Blood soaked the bandana around his neck as it gurgled from a gash across his throat.

As Kacie screamed “sauna,” one thought pummeled her brain.

Duke Bannister’s sister had finally gotten her justice.

Chapter Five

Ryan jumped from behind the barrels on the wharf and sprinted toward Kacie, her howl echoing in the night.

He pulled his gun from his pocket and charged toward the figure reposing on the bench, ready to do him physical harm if he had one finger on Kacie.

No need.

Kacie had fallen onto her backside, her hands spread before her.

Bannister’s head lolled back, as if he were taking in the night sky, his denim shirtfront and blue bandana loosely tied around his neck soaked with blood. Someone had slit his throat from ear to ear, creating a grisly second smile.

Ryan dropped to the ground and pulled Kacie away from the dead man. Bannister’s blood smudged her splayed hands, and without their support, she tilted to the side, in danger of falling over.

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close against his body. “Shh. Don’t worry. I’m right here beside you.”

She sobbed against his arm. “The blood, the blood.”

Ryan placed his firearm back in his pocket and exchanged it for a cell phone. He called 911, then hooked his arms beneath Kacie’s to bring her to her feet since she seemed incapable of movement.

“Hey, what happened, man? Is the lady okay?”

Ryan glanced over his shoulder to see a transient hunched over his shopping cart. “She’s okay, but this guy is dead. Did you see anything? See anyone hanging around here?”

“Nope.” The guy took off faster than he’d probably ever moved since he’d been on the streets.

Carrying Kacie toward a chain-link fence across from the bench, he whispered soothing words against her soft earlobe. “It’s okay. I have you.”

Her eyes grew wide and she clutched his T-shirt with both hands, forgetting they were stained with Bannister’s blood. “What if he’s still here? What if Walker is still here?”

He wrapped his arms around her trembling body and stroked her hair. “Walker’s not here. He’s locked up, remember? Nobody’s going to hurt you.”

She sniffled and burrowed against his chest.

His arms tightened around her trembling frame, and she molded against his body, melting into him. He could stand there all night holding her if it weren’t for the dead guy they had to deal with.

Sirens swooped down to the wharf, bringing out the night owls, who began to form clusters around the bench. The SFPD soon had the situation in hand, taping off the area and keeping the looky-loos at a distance.

Sergeant Curtis approached them first. “You called this in, Brody?”

Curtis worked homicide with his brother. Ryan tucked Kacie against his side and extended his hand. “Good to see you, Sergeant. I missed you when I was at the department earlier today. This is Kacie Manning. She had a meeting with the guy, and I tagged along. We believe he’s an ex-con named Duke Bannister.”

“Kacie Manning.” Curtis snapped his fingers. “You wrote that book on Daniel Walker—fascinating read.”

Kacie peeled herself from Ryan’s side and drew back her shoulders. “That’s right. This man did time with Walker. He had some information for me, and that’s why I was meeting him.”

“Did either of you see anything out here?” Curtis swirled his finger in the air.

“No. I didn’t realize Bannister was dead until I approached him from behind and touched his shoulder.” She held out her hands. “I got his blood on my hands.”

“We’ll want to take a swab of that, Ms. Manning, and then you can clean up.” He snapped his fingers for a tech.

“A transient came by soon after we discovered the body, but he claimed he hadn’t seen anyone and then took off in a hurry. I, uh—” Ryan gestured toward Kacie “—had my hands full and couldn’t detain him.”

“No problem. A lot of these guys on the wharf are regulars. We’ll have our guys put the word out. We’ll offer an exchange of money for info. If someone saw something, the smell of cold hard cash usually brings them out of the woodwork. Do you think the information he had could’ve led to his murder, Ms. Manning?”

Kacie’s eyes darted to Ryan’s face and then back to Curtis’s. “I’d met with Bannister before. He told me at that time Walker had it in for me.”

Curtis whistled. “Do you think this is Walker’s long hand from prison?”

“It could be.”

Ryan joined in and told Curtis about the doll and how he’d dropped it off earlier today at the station. “Your lab guys have it now.”

“We’ll contact the warden at Walla Walla. He can have a little talk with Walker or more closely monitor his communications or do whatever he thinks necessary.” Curtis leveled a finger at Ryan. “In the meantime, stay close to this guy. If you got a Brody on your side, you ain’t doing half-bad.”

After they answered a few more questions, a tech took a sample of blood from Kacie’s hand, handed her a moist towelette and they were free to go.

Their shoulders bumped a few times on the walk back to the hotel. When the police showed up, Kacie seemed to have recovered, morphing back into the hard-nosed reporter.

And that was a good thing, but one part of him liked the way she clung to him, needed him. He wanted to be there for her.

She peppered him with questions and suggested likely scenarios all the way back to the hotel.

When the doors of the elevator slid open on the fourth floor, she held up her hand. “I’m okay, really.”

“I know that, but what kind of cop would I be if I didn’t see you safely to your room after the night you just had?”

She blinked. “I guess that sense of duty never goes away, does it? Even when you’re off the clock.”

“Funny thing about cops.” He stepped out of the elevator and took her elbow. “We’re never off the clock.”

“I saw that with a lot of the men and women I interviewed for the book on Daniel Walker.”

She’d allowed him to touch her, but that soft, yielding woman in his arms at the wharf had turned rigid and cold. If she wanted to keep this strictly business, he could comply.

When they reached her door, he dropped his hand. “Why do you think Walker had Bannister killed? Maybe he found out that Bannister already told you about his plan for revenge, so he killed him for punishment.”