Dark Legacy by Jen Talty (best non fiction books to read .TXT) 📕

a good guess. Once I heard the name, I knew it could get awkward, so I just told her I’d get a visual, which is all she wanted anyway.”

“Belinda’s a recovering addict, along with her roommate. That is just the kind of thing the doctor specializes in.”

Janice Hargrove, Belinda’s roommate, had been concerned that her friend might have relapsed. Jackson had to agree. “So, our missing girl is probably off filling her nose full of coke somewhere,” Jackson said. He knew all too well that addicts, no matter how many times they professed that they’d changed, used again. It was only a matter of time.

He’d given his birth mother a couple of second chances, and she’d snorted all the money he’d lent her. He’d smartened up when she asked him for a kidney. He never wished the woman dead, but she’d died two years after she found a kidney donor—of a drug overdose. His muscles tightened as he thought of all the people who could have used that kidney and wouldn’t have taken it for granted.

But his birth mother had been a selfish woman, never thinking about anyone but herself, except for the day she’d dropped him off at a fire station, where his adoptive…no, his real father had been working.

“People can and do kick the habit, you know.”

“For maybe five minutes,” Jackson said as he opened the door. The crisp air smacked his skin, but summer was well on its way, and so was the insanity that came with living in a tourist town. “People don’t change that much.” When his birth mother had first come into his life, he experimented with drugs, looking for her approval. He’d gotten lost in the insanity of the world, but thanks to his family, he’d gotten back on the straight and narrow.

But he hadn’t been an addict. He hadn’t developed a physical or emotional need for the chemical.

He had, however, developed that need for his birth mother. In a way, she’d become his drug of choice. He wondered if he’d still allow her in and out of his life had she not ripped his heart from his chest and fed it to the wolves.

“You’re the most optimistic person I know, except with this particular subject. Well, this and marriage, but I know why you’re not a fan of wedded bliss. But why don’t you think people can change their stripes?” Katie took off her hat, fiddled with her ponytail, and then leapt from the Jeep, landing perfectly in her three-inch heels, which didn’t go with her torn-up pants. He couldn’t even tell if they were sweats, fatigues, or maybe a pair of mangled slacks.

“Because I’ve seen it time and time again. Only five percent of those who kick the habit stay the course for life. That’s a fact.”

“That’s a statistic, and it could be wrong.” Katie adjusted her baseball cap, showing off her French manicure. She took long strides, her heels clicking against the pavement. It amazed him that the woman didn’t fall on her face half the time.

They continued walking toward the bank’s entrance. The sun beat down on the dark pavement. It would hit sixty-five by noon. He opened the door, and they entered the institution. It was a relatively small bank. Three tellers and a drive-thru window to the right of the doors. To the left was a welcome desk, a white-haired woman sitting behind it with a big smile. “May I help you?” she asked.

“We’d like to speak to Miss Montgomery,” Katie said with a return smile.

“I’m sorry, she’s not here today. Can someone else help you?”

“May we speak with her boss?” Katie asked.

“One moment please,” the woman said, then turned her chair and slowly lowered herself. She took a few steps before she disappeared behind a wall to what appeared to be four offices, cubical style.

Jackson and Katie waited patiently for about five minutes before the elderly woman reappeared. “Ms. Timms will see you now.” She waved them in.

Jackson followed Katie into the office. He almost always let her take the lead. A short, heavyset, middle-aged woman who couldn’t be taller than five feet greeted them. She stood behind her desk with an extended hand. “I am Lisa Timms, the bank manager. What can I help you with today?”

“Ms. Timms. My name is Jackson Armstrong, and this is Katie Bateman,” Jackson started. “We don’t want to alarm you, but we are private investigators and are looking for Belinda Montgomery.”

Ms. Timms sat down and folded her hands on the desk. She looked him directly in the eye when she spoke. “I cannot discuss my employees with you. I am sorry.”

“Can you at least tell us when you last spoke to Miss Montgomery?” Katie asked in her best feminine voice, the one she thought other women related to. In reality, they didn’t.

“Thursday.” Ms. Timms frowned. “If something has happened and I need to speak to the police or something, then I would be more than happy to cooperate with them.”

Katie leaned forward, resting her hand on the desk. Her smile seemed forced, but then again, he knew her too well. Others didn’t have his insight. “We don’t mean to alarm you, ma’am. A friend of Miss Montgomery’s is concerned because she has not heard from her in a while.”

Ms. Timms let out a long breath. “Well, I can tell you that Miss Montgomery requested a few days off. She’s an excellent employee and has never taken a sick day, so I gave her the personal time. I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding.” Now, it was Ms. Timms’ turn to lean in. “Between you and me.” Ms. Timms looked about the office before focusing her attention on Katie. “If this is her roommate, I know they had somewhat of an argument. So maybe Miss Montgomery just needed a little space.”

“Really,” Jackson said. “Can you elaborate?” He didn’t have the same charm as Katie did, but women generally responded to him just the same.

“No.” Ms. Timms leaned back in her chair