Read Online Bannon Brothers by Janet Dailey - Free Book Online

never gave a five-word answer when no would do—and you never volunteered information.
    â€œMight as well get the releases handled while we’re waiting.” She opened a drawer and pulled out several forms, then slid them across her desk toward him. “Sign here and here.” She stabbed the paper with the tip of her pen before handing it to him. “Basically it says that we have the right to edit your interview for content and length. And no, you don’t have prior approval of what goes on the air.”
    â€œWhat a surprise,” he muttered under his breath and scratched his signature across the appropriate blanks.
    â€œYeah, well, not everybody gets their fifteen minutes of fame.” She gathered up the releases in a neat stack and sized him up with one glance. “Kelly thinks the camera’s going to love you. If it does, so much the better. If not, we’ll do the story with our anchor and the visuals we’ll create.”
    â€œMy feelings won’t be hurt if I end up on the cutting-room floor,” Bannon assured her.
    She shot him a skeptical look, but said nothing.
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    An hour later, he found himself in a small, soundproof chamber with a photographic blow-up on one wall that looked vaguely like a city at night. There was one chair, for him. He felt like a perp in an interrogation room.
    Everything happened fast. A skinny kid clipped a tiny mike to his shirt and a tech told him to look directly into the camera lens when he spoke, pointing to where it came through the other wall. A young woman came in to take the shine off his face with a powder-laden brush and frowned at his hair but left it alone. Bannon was grateful. He didn’t want to be gelled, thank you very much.
    She was replaced by a man who didn’t give his name but squatted out of camera range, giving a countdown and then reading the scripted questions aloud in a monotone. Not ones Bannon was expecting, but they got what they wanted in two takes.
    The whole business was about as exciting as waiting for a bus. He wasn’t expecting much . . . when and if the segment appeared on TV.
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    Two days later, a production assistant left Bannon a message on his cell phone, telling him the piece would air on the evening news slot. But Bannon didn’t pick the message up in time. He missed the broadcast and forgot about looking for it on the station website.
    RJ opened the door of his fridge and heard the cat come running on soft paws. The suck of the rubber seal got Babaloo’s attention every time. Too bad there was nothing on the shelves worth eating for either of them.
    His cell phone buzzed in his jeans pocket.
    â€œSorry, pal. That has to be Doris. I’ll make a supermarket run after I hang up.”
    The cat sauntered away as RJ extracted the phone from his pocket, flipping it open without looking at the screen to see who it was.
    â€œHey,” he said. “Are you all right?”
    â€œAm I speaking to RJ Bannon?” The male voice was cordial, but not remotely familiar.
    â€œWho is this?”
    â€œOlliver Duncan. Senior partner at Duncan, Hobert, and Giles. You don’t know me—”
    â€œLet’s keep it that way,” Bannon said, cupping the phone in his hand to flip it shut. He stopped when he heard the man’s faint reply.
    â€œI represent Hugh Montgomery.”
    Bannon brought the phone back to his ear. “And . . . ?”
    â€œWe saw the segment on Ann’s kidnapping on the news today.”
    â€œYou’re one up on me. I didn’t.”
    â€œI see.” There was an infinitesimal pause. “Mr. Montgomery and I would like to talk to you about that and some other things. At your convenience, of course.”
    Frowning, Bannon considered the unexpected request. But there was only one way to find out what was behind it.
    â€œWhere and when?” he asked.
    Olliver Duncan gave the address of his law firm. “Would one