date?” he said, a hint of a smile playing at his lips.
“Uh, I don’t know if I’d call it a date. I just thought it’d be … fun.”
He nodded thoughtfully and crouched down to bring himself eye-level with her daughter. “What do you think, Emory? Should I go on a non-date withyour mother? Or should I insist on full date status?”
Emory looked at him blankly and then giggled and squealed. “Date!”
Beamon looked back up at Carrie. “Your daughter seems to think I deserve all the rights and privileges afforded a full-blooded date.”
Carrie’s expression turned severe, but he could tell she was trying not to laugh. “We’ll have to talk about what you consider ‘full rights and privileges,’ but I’m willing to compromise. I’d consider an honorary title.”
“I can live with that.”
Beamon knocked the snow off his boots with a couple of violent kicks to the doorjamb and dropped his coat on the floor. Things were starting to look up. Of course, he still had no idea as to the whereabouts of the elusive Jennifer Davis, but he had managed to get a date with Carrie without having to go through the torture of actually asking. Not every day you got something for nothing.
“Okay, Chet, what’ve you got for me?”
Michaels leaned back into the sofa and put his feet on the large box that contained Beamon’s coffee table. “She’s really cool. Pretty, too. And a doctor.” He rubbed at his bright red chin. “I think she likes you.”
Beamon opened his refrigerator and pulled out two beers. “You’d better be talking about Jennifer Davis.” He popped the tops off the bottles and walked around to Michaels.
“I was talking about Carrie.”
Beamon sat down in a chair facing the sofa andtook a long pull from his beer. “So what I’m hearing you saying, Chet, is that you don’t actually want to keep your job.”
The young agent smirked and pulled two folders out of the open knapsack at his feet. He pointed to one of them. “Autopsy.” Then the other. “Jennifer’s real parents. Which one do you want to start with?”
Beamon polished off his beer with one more healthy gulp and started toward the kitchen for a refill. “I’m pretty sure the cause of death was their brains leaving their heads at the speed of sound, so why don’t we start with the parents.”
“Good choice. We’ve started to get in the info you wanted on Jennifer’s real parents. James and Carol Passal. James was a grocery store manager in Portland, Oregon—Carol was a full-time mother, as near as we can tell. Both were killed in a fire that destroyed their home when Jennifer was two years old.”
“Where was Jennifer?”
“They found her wandering around on the lawn.”
“She was outside playing when the fire started?”
Michaels shook his head. “The fire started around midnight.”
“Midnight, huh. What caused it?”
“The report’s pretty cryptic. They ruled out foul play, but I’m not sure how, since they don’t give a cause. Also, no one seems to have ever figured out how Jennifer got onto the lawn.”
“Interesting.”
“Oh, it gets way better than that. James had abrother. He lived in Salem ‘til he left town under a black cloud.”
“And that cloud was …”
“Kidnapping category number three. Suspicion of child molestation.”
Beamon fell back into the chair with his fresh beer. “Now that really is interesting. Was Jennifer involved?”
“It’s possible, but I can’t say for sure. The police investigated briefly, but when David took off, I guess they never got anything concrete enough to warrant bringing him back.”
“Where is he now?”
“I think near Kanab, Utah.”
“Where?”
“It’s on the southern border of the state. Not that far from here, actually. I’m still trying to get a specific address, but the sheriff there said that Passal just lives up in the hills—pretty much keeps to himself.”
“We need to find him, Chet. Now.”
“I’ve called the guys
“Uh, I don’t know if I’d call it a date. I just thought it’d be … fun.”
He nodded thoughtfully and crouched down to bring himself eye-level with her daughter. “What do you think, Emory? Should I go on a non-date withyour mother? Or should I insist on full date status?”
Emory looked at him blankly and then giggled and squealed. “Date!”
Beamon looked back up at Carrie. “Your daughter seems to think I deserve all the rights and privileges afforded a full-blooded date.”
Carrie’s expression turned severe, but he could tell she was trying not to laugh. “We’ll have to talk about what you consider ‘full rights and privileges,’ but I’m willing to compromise. I’d consider an honorary title.”
“I can live with that.”
Beamon knocked the snow off his boots with a couple of violent kicks to the doorjamb and dropped his coat on the floor. Things were starting to look up. Of course, he still had no idea as to the whereabouts of the elusive Jennifer Davis, but he had managed to get a date with Carrie without having to go through the torture of actually asking. Not every day you got something for nothing.
“Okay, Chet, what’ve you got for me?”
Michaels leaned back into the sofa and put his feet on the large box that contained Beamon’s coffee table. “She’s really cool. Pretty, too. And a doctor.” He rubbed at his bright red chin. “I think she likes you.”
Beamon opened his refrigerator and pulled out two beers. “You’d better be talking about Jennifer Davis.” He popped the tops off the bottles and walked around to Michaels.
“I was talking about Carrie.”
Beamon sat down in a chair facing the sofa andtook a long pull from his beer. “So what I’m hearing you saying, Chet, is that you don’t actually want to keep your job.”
The young agent smirked and pulled two folders out of the open knapsack at his feet. He pointed to one of them. “Autopsy.” Then the other. “Jennifer’s real parents. Which one do you want to start with?”
Beamon polished off his beer with one more healthy gulp and started toward the kitchen for a refill. “I’m pretty sure the cause of death was their brains leaving their heads at the speed of sound, so why don’t we start with the parents.”
“Good choice. We’ve started to get in the info you wanted on Jennifer’s real parents. James and Carol Passal. James was a grocery store manager in Portland, Oregon—Carol was a full-time mother, as near as we can tell. Both were killed in a fire that destroyed their home when Jennifer was two years old.”
“Where was Jennifer?”
“They found her wandering around on the lawn.”
“She was outside playing when the fire started?”
Michaels shook his head. “The fire started around midnight.”
“Midnight, huh. What caused it?”
“The report’s pretty cryptic. They ruled out foul play, but I’m not sure how, since they don’t give a cause. Also, no one seems to have ever figured out how Jennifer got onto the lawn.”
“Interesting.”
“Oh, it gets way better than that. James had abrother. He lived in Salem ‘til he left town under a black cloud.”
“And that cloud was …”
“Kidnapping category number three. Suspicion of child molestation.”
Beamon fell back into the chair with his fresh beer. “Now that really is interesting. Was Jennifer involved?”
“It’s possible, but I can’t say for sure. The police investigated briefly, but when David took off, I guess they never got anything concrete enough to warrant bringing him back.”
“Where is he now?”
“I think near Kanab, Utah.”
“Where?”
“It’s on the southern border of the state. Not that far from here, actually. I’m still trying to get a specific address, but the sheriff there said that Passal just lives up in the hills—pretty much keeps to himself.”
“We need to find him, Chet. Now.”
“I’ve called the guys
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