Bannick nodded as if thoroughly defeated.
Dr. Kassabian said, “I’m glad you came in sober, it’s a good start. You wouldn’t believe some of the poor folks who stagger in here.”
“I don’t feel sober, Doctor. Anything but.”
“You’re in the right place.”
They walked next door and met the director of admissions. Bannick paid the first $10,000 with a credit card and signed a promissory note for the other $40,000. Dr. Kassabian kept his bag. When the admission was complete he was shown to his rather spacious room on the second floor. Dr. Kassabian excused himself and said he was looking forward to lunch. When Bannick was finally alone, he quickly took off his stylish nylon tactical travel belt and removed small plastic bags from its hidden pockets. The bags contained two sets of pills that would be needed later. He hid them under a chest of drawers.
A steward knocked on his door and handed him a stack of gowns and towels. He waited until Bannick undressed in the bathroom, then left with his clothing, including the belt and his shoes.
He showered, put on one of the soft linen gowns, stretched out on the bed, and fell asleep.
* * *
—
Lacy, Jeri, and Allie dropped Gunther off at the airport and watched him taxi out and take off. When he was in the air, they felt like celebrating. They returned to the FBI office and met with Clay Vidovich and two other agents. Jeri signed an affidavit that recited the facts of her weekend encounter with Bannick. A warrant for kidnapping was issued and circulated nationally, everywhere but the Pensacola area. They were certain Bannick was not hanging around the Panhandle and did not want to alert his friends and acquaintances.
Vidovich gave them an update on the searches of his office and home and was bothered by the fact that no more prints had been found. The FBI was searching his real estate holdings, but so far had found nothing useful.
The room began to fill as other agents joined them. All ties were loosened, all sleeves rolled up, all collars unbuttoned. As a group they gave every indication of having worked through the weekend. Lacy called Darren and told him to join them. Trays of coffee, water, and pastries were brought in by secretaries.
At ten, Vidovich called things to order and made sure the two video cameras were working. He said, “This is for informational purposes only. Since you’re not a suspect, Jeri, we don’t need to deal with Miranda.”
“I should hope not,” she said and got a laugh.
“At the outset, I want to say that we would not be here if not for you. Your detective work over the past twenty years is nothing short of brilliant. It’s a miracle, actually, and I’ve never encountered anything like it. So, on behalf of the families, and all of law enforcement, I say thanks.”
She nodded, embarrassed, and glanced at Lacy.
“He hasn’t been caught yet,” Jeri said.
“We’ll get him.”
“Soon, I hope.”
“I’d like to start at the beginning. A lot of this will be repetitious, but please indulge us.”
She began with the death of her father and its aftermath, the lack of clues, the months that dragged by with little contact with the police, and absolutely nothing in the way of progress. And what could possibly have been the motive. She spent years trying to answer that question. Who in Bryan Burke’s world had ever said anything negative about him? No relatives, colleagues, maybe a student or two. He had no business deals, no partners, no lovers, no jealous husbands along the way. She eventually settled on Ross Bannick but knew from the beginning that she was only guessing. He was a long shot. She had no proof, nothing but her hyperactive imagination. She dug through his past, kept up with his career as a young lawyer in Pensacola, and slowly became obsessed. She knew where he lived, worked, grew up, went to church, and played golf on the weekends.
She stumbled across an old story in the Ledger about the murder of Thad Leawood, a local who’d moved away under suspicious circumstances. She tied him to Bannick through Boy Scout records obtained from the national headquarters. When she eventually saw the crime scene photos, a big piece of the puzzle fell into place.
She couldn’t stop rubbing her wrists. She said, “According to my research, the next one was Ashley Barasso, in 1996. However, Bannick said, last Saturday, that he didn’t kill her.”
Vidovich was shaking his head. He looked at Agent Murray, who was also in disagreement. Murray said, “He’s lying. We have the file. Same rope, same knot, same method. Plus he knew her in law school at Miami.”
“That’s what I told him,” Jeri said.