Forgotten by Mariah Stewart Read Free Book Online

Portia Cahill.”
    “One moment, please.”
    Almost a full minute later, another equally efficient voice came on the line.
    “This is Ms. Bennett. How may I help you, Agent Cahill?”
    “I’d like to speak with Mr. Cannon.”
    “I’m afraid Mr. Cannon is out of the office at the moment, but I’d be happy to take a message.”
    “What time will he be back?”
    “I don’t expect him back till after five, but I’d be happy to—”
    Portia glanced at her watch. She’d already figured out it would take at least ninety minutes to get to Cannon’s office from hers.
    “Will he be in by six?”
    “Yes, he is expected, but—”
    “Please tell Mr. Cannon that he can expect me at six and I’d appreciate a few minutes of his time.”
    “I can’t guarantee that he’ll be here precisely at six—this is Friday, you realize, and we normally do not make appointments for Friday evenings. But if you’d like to make an appointment for another time—”
    “I would not. Please let him know that I’ll be there at six.”
    The efficient voice was becoming increasingly terse.
    “May I tell him what this is in reference to, Agent Cahill?”
    “Tell him it’s about Sheldon Woods.”
    “Mr. Cannon no longer represents Mr. Woods.”
    “I’m aware. Six P.M. today. Thanks so much.”
             
    T he law offices of James P. Cannon and Associates were located in a handsome redbrick building in an area just outside the northern city limits. By getting off the interstate before rush-hour traffic clogged the arteries leading into Baltimore, Portia was able to pull into the small parking lot at exactly five fifty-three. Not bad, she thought as she scanned the names on the reserved parking places. A dark blue Jaguar sat in the space bearing the name J.P. Cannon. She parked her rental car in the visitors’ space next to it.
    “Right up there by the front door,” she mused as she turned off the engine. “Must have paid a little extra for that little perk.”
    Nice
. She nodded to herself as she walked around the back of the Jag. Very nice. It was a similar model to one Jack owned, one he’d let her drive occasionally when she visited. Portia loved that car. Even now, walking around this one, her fingers itched for the keys, her hand for the gear shift. She did appreciate a little speed, a little luxury.
    Then she remembered what James Cannon did that permitted him such luxuries.
    Right. Criminal defense. We bring ’em in, he gets ’em out.
    She stepped away from the car and walked through the front door.
    Portia stopped at the security desk in the center of the lobby and showed her credentials.
    “I’ll call up to let them know you’re here, Agent Cahill,” the uniformed woman told her. “Mr. Cannon’s office is right there where you get off the elevator on the seventh floor.”
    “Thank you.” Portia kept her ID in her hand as she headed into the elevator. She’d probably need it again very shortly.
    As Portia suspected might be the case, Cannon’s highly efficient assistant was waiting for her. The shapely young blonde in the blue silk suit appeared to be assessing Portia even as she stepped off the elevator.
    “Agent Cahill?” she asked crisply.
    “Yes. Ms. Bennett?”
    “Yes. May I see some identification?” She held out a hand attached to an arm that sported a row of gold bracelets.
    How, Portia wondered, did one type with all that hardware hanging off one’s arm?
    Portia handed the woman her ID, which she seemed to take a long time studying. While she did so, Portia scanned the firm’s list of attorneys on the plaque on the wall facing the elevator. It appeared Mr. Cannon had amassed quite a staff since his Sheldon Woods days.
    “This way,” the woman said, Portia’s credentials still clutched in her hand.
    Portia followed her through a central reception area where several spacious glass-walled offices lined the outer wall of the building. The door of the back corner office was open, and it