Shattered (Michael Bennett #14)(41)

I drove right into the Capitol Hill area of DC and parked across the street from Gold’s Gym. The security guard at the Supreme Court had let it slip that Beth Banks worked out there every day around lunchtime. I had already deduced that Beth Banks looked at things differently than most people. But I sensed she was nothing if not consistent. She had the kind of orderly life that many of us aspire to but none of us really want. Same schedule every day. Same problems to deal with. Same time to work out. I knew to be here by 1:30 or else I’d miss her.

Now, from my vantage point across the street, I could see through the only unobstructed window of the gym. I didn’t have any surveillance equipment with me. No binoculars, nothing like that. But I had learned a few tricks over the years. I zoomed my iPhone all the way and looked through the camera. It gave me a good view of some of the people inside the gym. And after only a couple of minutes I saw Beth Banks.

She was in a black unitard. Now that I could see her arms, I wouldn’t describe her as a swimmer. She had better biceps than most men I know. She wasn’t fooling around either.

I now understood why the security guard at the Supreme Court Building had said a government gym wasn’t good enough for Beth Banks. She needed a challenge. It looked like she was getting it. I first spotted her on a treadmill, running at a frightening pace. My lungs hurt just watching her. Then she moved to a set of dumbbells beside the treadmill and did ten reps of shoulder presses. After that, she balanced as she lifted a knee and the opposite arm while still holding the dumbbells. Then she jumped back on the treadmill. I didn’t ever want to have to tangle with her.

I made a few notes, then wondered if I would see her meet with anyone from the case. That really had to be my goal. She was hardly going to buy cocaine from a known dealer on the street. I had to see something that would let me draw some conclusions or at least create a theory about how she could be involved in Emily’s death.

I really was reaching for straws at this point. All I could tell from this quick surveillance was that Beth Banks was capable of overpowering Emily Parker. Even with Emily’s FBI defensive tactics training, I’d have to give the edge to Beth Banks.

As I watched her, I started to realize why she could be a good suspect. If she had felt Emily might jeopardize her brother’s reputation, maybe she would have done something drastic.

The only way to figure out if she had committed a homicide was more investigation. More questions. And more time spent in DC. The math didn’t seem to be working out in my favor.





Chapter 52



If Beth turned out not to be a suspect, I wanted her on my side. That’s why I continued the investigation in half measures. I left my rental car parked on the street. Then I strolled across to the gym, walking casually in front of the big bay window to get a better look inside.

I could remember a surveillance I was on in Brooklyn about fifteen years ago. I was helping a narcotics borough unit. We’d set up on a coffee shop where an informant was supposed to meet one of the bigger heroin dealers in Brooklyn.

While I sat alone in my car, looking at the coffee shop, I noticed two men rush into a liquor store next door. It was a robbery, and people could get hurt. I knew what I had to do. I popped out of my car, and two of the local detectives followed me. The robbers were so shocked when they burst out the front door and saw us standing there that they surrendered instantly.

The funniest part to me was the fury of the narcotics detective that I would blow a drug deal for a good armed robbery arrest. Sometimes you had to question people’s priorities. Like someone who’d do anything to protect the reputation of their brother.

I walked past on the sidewalk as casually as possible to see if Beth Banks was still working out. I didn’t see any sign of her. The treadmill she’d been using was now occupied by a large hairy man in a fluorescent-orange shirt.

When I turned from the window, I felt the world tumble in front of me. Or maybe I was the one tumbling. I was on the sidewalk in an awkward sprawl. My vision went dim, my stomach heaved, and I felt like I might be having a stroke.

When my senses started to return, someone was standing directly in front of me. I looked up from my humiliating position like a dog on all fours. To make matters worse, I looked up into the stern face of Beth Banks.

As I slowly rose to my feet, I realized Beth had just kicked me in the head with her long, limber legs. Hard. It didn’t matter that I stood a head taller than her and probably weighed seventy pounds more. I was impressed.

I rubbed my temple where her foot had caught me so squarely, knowing that she had a clear shot to prolong the attack.

Beth Banks put her hands on her hips and cocked her head a little to the side. All she said was “Don’t be creepy. It’s bad enough you barged into my office. Are you going to follow me around the rest of the day? If I catch you stalking me again, I’ll break something. And it will be something you use a lot.”

The vagueness of what she was going to hurt made her threat that much scarier. She turned and walked away confidently. Even in the business suit, she was clearly fit.

I kind of liked her.





Chapter 53



I sat in a nearly empty sub shop a few blocks from Gold’s Gym. The half eaten turkey sub on my plate was evidence that my head hurt too much for me to eat. My remedy, for the moment, was to sit quietly with a bottle of cold water pressed against my temple. Almost the exact spot Beth Banks had kicked me. I thought I could reasonably say I was the only person ever kicked in the head by a Supreme Court justice’s chief of staff. I figured she’d kicked someone in the head before this. I just assumed it was before her tenure with the Supreme Court.