Touch & Go (Tessa Leoni, #2)(84)

“Not much time left,” she murmured, taking the exit for Lexington as she followed her GPS’s directions for Anita Bennett’s house.

“Exactly,” he agreed, fingers drumming against the middle console. “Exactly.”


ANITA BENNETT OPENED HER FRONT DOOR after the first ring. She took in Tessa, wearing black Ann Taylor slacks topped with a fitted white shirt, and frowned slightly. Then she spotted Wyatt, standing in full view of her neighbors in his brown sheriff’s uniform, and positively scowled.

“Come in!” she said, less of an invitation, more of a demand. They did.

Anita wore a long dark skirt with slim black boots, topped with a heather-colored cable-knit sweater. She matched the white-painted, black-shuttered house, Tessa thought, a perfect advertisement for refined New England living. Currently, the woman was fidgeting with her long string of pearls, and looking at Tessa and Wyatt as if she didn’t know what to do with them.

“We have some more questions,” Tessa said by way of explanation.

“I would’ve met you at the office. As it is, we’ve just returned from church.”

“It will only take a minute.”

A last scowl, then Anita seemed to give up. Her shoulders came down slightly; she gestured for them to follow her.

“Honey, who’s here?” A man’s voice from the end of the hallway.

Anita didn’t immediately answer, but kept walking, leading them past a massive kitchen with black granite countertops and cherrywood cabinets, then the formal dining room, until they finally arrived in a smaller sitting room, boasting a fireplace, a pair of silk-covered wingback chairs and a vintage 1920s love seat.

Tessa found this interesting. She would’ve described the COO’s office as modern, while her home was clearly New England traditional. She wondered what other differences distinguished work Anita from home Anita.

An older man in black slacks and a cranberry-colored sweater had been sitting in front of the lit fire. Now he rose, moving gingerly, and offered a hand. He had a full head of striking gray hair, topping a broad, friendly face with wire-rimmed glasses.

“Daniel Coakley,” he said, by way of introduction. “Anita’s husband. And you are?”

“These are two of the investigators looking for Justin and his family,” Anita said crisply. But Tessa noticed the woman’s gaze softened when she looked at her husband. She moved closer, placing a hand on his arm in an almost protective gesture. “It’s okay, Dan. They just need to ask me a few more questions. Do you mind?”

Dan seemed to take that as his cue to depart. He nodded at both of them, then worked his way slowly down the hallway in the direction they had come.

“Heart attack,” Anita said, in answer to their unspoken question. “Last year. He died twice on the way to the ER. You have no idea how much that puts your life in perspective.”

She gestured to the forest-green wingback chairs. Tessa took one, Wyatt the other. Anita perched on the edge of the gold-and-green-covered sofa. Putting plenty of distance between her and the investigators, Tessa noticed, while sitting ramrod straight, hands clasped on her knees, body language radiating wariness.

Given the woman’s discomfort, Tessa took her time, letting the silence drag out while she took inventory of the room, seeking out family photos. She spotted two larger framed prints. One close-up shot of three school-age boys, piled up on a hillside, bright faces beaming. Then, the classic family shot, a younger Anita seated in one of the wingback chairs, three now teenage boys kneeling around her while a noticeably larger, healthier Daniel Coakley stood behind them all, hand on her shoulder.

In this photo, Tessa could see that Anita’s husband had had blond hair, which complemented his fair complexion. Before going silver gray, Anita appeared to have been a strawberry blonde with equally pale skin. Which left their youngest son with noticeably darker features than the rest of the family.

She and Wyatt exchanged a look. He was seated comfortably in the other wingback chair, one leg crossed casually on the other, elbows resting at his side. He was going with his quietly accessible demeanor. Not pressuring their interview subject, but letting her come to him.

Effective approach given how much Tessa herself had volunteered in just one car ride.

“We have received a ransom demand,” Tessa said.

Clearly, this was not what Anita had been expecting. Immediately, the COO was on her feet, fingers once again working her pearls. “How, when? What do they want? Are Justin and his family okay?”

“Demand is nine million dollars. Justin evoked some special clause that allows an additional life insurance payment in situations of extreme danger.”

“Oh my God.” Anita’s hand, covering her mouth. “Is he…all right? Ashlyn? Libby?”

“Justin states they are currently safe, but we haven’t received visual confirmation yet.”

“Will the insurance company pay?”

“Being worked out as we speak.”

“Of course they’ll pay,” Anita said, no longer looking at them, but seeming to speak to herself. “That’s why one carries such policies. So that when the worst happens, the company will pay, and Justin and his family will be returned safe. When?”

“Soon. We hope.”

Anita sat back down. Her earlier wariness was gone. She appeared intent now. “So what do you need from me? How can I help?”