The Vanishing. Jana DeLeon

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      “At her apartment. I know the police went through it, but they would only have looked for signs of a crime. Since we have to assume at this point that she left of her own accord, I want to look for things that might tip me off as to where she may have gone and for what reason.”

      Colette nodded. “Now that I’ve had the police out, I don’t think the landlord would have a problem letting us back in.”

      “Us?”

      “Yes. The landlord isn’t likely to let you in without me. She’s very particular about the rules.”

      He frowned. “I suppose it’s all right for you to accompany me to her apartment.”

      “Actually, I’ve taken some long-overdue vacation time. I intend to accompany you everywhere.”

      His jaw dropped then clamped shut and set in a hard line. “I can’t allow that.”

      “I wasn’t aware that I had to have permission when I’m footing the bill.”

      “It’s a matter of safety,” he said, not bothering any longer to hide his frustration. “If Anna is in some kind of trouble, then the investigation could be dangerous.”

      “Then I guess it’s good you’ll have a medical professional with you.”

      MAX CLIMBED INTO HIS JEEP, completely frustrated and with no outlet for expressing it, as the main source of his frustration was perched in the passenger seat. If he’d known he was going to be playing escort to an untrained civilian, he may have told Alex he couldn’t take the case. The young, shapely Cajun woman with miles of wavy dark hair and green eyes was the last thing in the world he’d been expecting.

      When Alex had described Colette as one of the head nurses where she used to work, he’d immediately formed a picture in his mind of an old, blue-haired woman with ugly white shoes and a perpetual frown. But there wasn’t a single thing about Colette that was old, blue-haired or ugly. Even in jeans, T-shirt and tennis shoes, and with her hair in a ponytail, she was still one of the sexiest women Max had ever seen, and he couldn’t help but wonder how those long legs would look without the jeans encasing them.

      She’s a hard-core, hardheaded career woman, just like Mother.

      And that was really where all train of thought came to a screeching halt, which was just as well. Max knew better than anyone that combining pleasure with work was a huge mistake.

      He shook his head to change his train of thought and get back to the business at hand. They’d talked to all of Anna’s neighbors at her apartment building but gotten only the same story: Anna was a quiet, polite woman whom they rarely saw. The search of her apartment had yielded nothing but more questions. Max hadn’t located a single thread of information that might give a clue as to why the young woman had left. She kept no diary, no notes and, oddly enough, nothing related to her past.

      It was as if she’d materialized out of thin air two years ago on the streets of New Orleans. And that, in itself, was very suspicious.

      He could tell by Colette’s expression that she was also bothered by the lack of personal items in Anna’s apartment, but she wasn’t about to admit it to him. And apparently, it hadn’t changed her mind about accompanying him to the bank to see if they’d part with information on Anna’s bank transactions.

      “Don’t you need a warrant or something to get information from the bank?” Colette asked.

      “Usually.”

      Colette raised one eyebrow, clearly waiting for an explanation, but he didn’t feel like giving one. He may have to let her along for the ride, but that didn’t mean he had to consult with her on his actions or explain the way he worked. She was paying for an expert to handle the situation, and that’s what she’d get. Teaching wasn’t part of the job description.

      She was smart enough not to press the issue, but she still followed right behind him as he parked in front of the bank and went inside. A young woman in a glass office at the front of the lobby jumped up from her chair and beamed as he walked in the door.

      “Max,” she said and rushed to give him a kiss on the cheek.

      “Brandy,” he said, both embarrassed and flattered by the attention.

      “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

      Max glanced around the lobby and was happy to see all the other employees and customers were out of hearing range. “I need your help,” he said and explained the situation to her.

      Brandy’s eyes widened and her mouth formed a small O. When he finished, she nodded and gestured toward the office she’d come out of earlier. Colette and Max stepped inside and took seats across the desk from Brandy, who sat down and immediately started typing.

      “There’s been no other activity on the account since the withdrawal last Friday, but there’s only thirty dollars left in the account.”

      “What about the month before that?” Max asked. “Is there anything unusual that you can see?”

      Brandy scanned the screen, shaking her head. “It all looks like normal stuff—a check for rent, automatic draft for utilities and Netflix, and a couple of small cash withdrawals—never more than twenty dollars at a time.”

      “Can you tell where she made the withdrawal on Friday?”

      Brandy nodded. “Let me look up the branch number associated with the transaction.” She typed in some numbers and then said, “It’s located on Highway 90 close to Old Spanish Trail, northeast of New Orleans.”

      Colette sucked in a breath. “That’s on the way to the village where Anna’s from. But she said she had no family left there.”

      “Maybe she lied.”

      Colette frowned, and Max knew she wasn’t happy with the thought that the girl she’d invested so much in had been lying to her all along. “Maybe so,” she said finally.

      “Can I get a printout of the transactions and the address of that branch?” Max asked.

      “Of course,” Brandy said.

      Max felt his cell phone vibrating in his pocket and pulled it out to check the display. “It’s Holt,” he said. “Excuse me for a moment.”

      He left the office and stepped outside onto the sidewalk in front of the bank. “What’s up?” he asked.

      “Alex got a call this morning from the morgue at West Side Hospital outside of New Orleans. They have a body that matches Anna’s description.”

      Max’s heart sank.

      He’d known there was a possibility that Anna had met with foul play, but he’d really been hoping for a happy ending for Anna and Colette.

      Unfortunately, it seemed that the worst-case scenario was visiting the investigation before he really got started.

      COLETTE WATCHED AS BRANDY stapled the printouts together. The girl was certainly attractive and apparently knew Max well enough to risk being fired for what she was doing, but Colette СКАЧАТЬ