Already Gone

by Diane Benefiel

  THE MEASURE OF A MAN

  Madison Gallagher’s life is in Hangman’s Loss. Her family is here. Her friends are here. She owns and runs a successful bakery café. What she doesn’t have is a love life. And she doesn’t want one. The man who stole her heart when they were both young and wildly in love was careless and callous—he left her and never looked back. Now he’s returned, and with his typical reckless abandon, he inserts himself back into her world. But, no. She’s suffered enough and has finally gotten to a place where her life makes sense. She refuses his advances. Until she can’t.

  When Logan Ross left Hangman’s Loss he had needed to find himself and become a man he could be proud of—a man nothing like his father. And while Logan had succeeded, he had never been whole, not when he’d lived ten long years without his Maddy. Back and undercover on a dangerous operation, one look at his girl and he knows this is where he’s meant to be. And nothing in his whole life has been harder than winning back the woman he’d broken. But Logan is determined to do anything it takes to mend her precious heart, and he means to prove it to her every day for the rest of her life.

  PRAISE FOR DIANE BENEFIEL

  Solitary Man

  NATIONAL READERS’ CHOICE AWARD WINNING NOVEL

  “I am in love with this story. I devoured this book and didn’t want it to end. The chemistry between the characters and the plot kept me wanting to read late into the night. This is my first read from Diane Benefiel but definitely not my last. I can’t wait to read more from this amazing author. Thank you Diane Benefiel for getting me hooked on your books!” ~ CJ’s Book Corner

  “Ryder was exactly who Brenna needed in her life, and trust me when I say you will love him because yeah he really is that good of a guy. Solitary Man is my first book by this author and it will not be the last. I really think you all will enjoy this one as much as I did it is one I do recommend.” ~ I’m A Sweet And Sassy Book Whore

  “I really enjoyed this book and there were a few twists and turns that kept me completely involved in the story. This is the first time I have read this author and it definitely won’t be my last!” ~ Sassy Southern Book Blog

  HIGH SIERRAS SERIES

  Flash Point

  “Diane Benefiel takes us on a story filled with mystery, suspense, and action as we try to solve what is going on in the small town of Hangman’s Loss. Flash Point is a story that will have you flipping the pages and wondering who is the behind the attacks against Hangman’s newest resident and why.” ~ Sarah Reads

  “Flash Point really surprised me. It’s not what I was expecting but I really enjoyed reading it. It’s a fun easy read that captured me from the start.” ~ Coffee Chat

  Dead Giveaway

  “Diane has written yet another winner in her High Sierra series. Murder witness and 'person of interest' Gwen flees with her godson to Cameron's uncle Eli. Gwen and Eli have no use for one another but come together for Cameron's sake and to find the true murderer...and in the process find their way to one another. My evening with Gwen and Eli couldn't have been more delightful, and I look forward to the next installment of the High Sierras.” ~seniorphotog

  “I loved this second book in the High Sierras series. This is a story of two people who are attracted to each other, but reconnecting under the worst of circumstances. I discovered Ms. Benefiel’s books and have loved the careful way she draws you in to the story with characters that make you feel as if you are reading about friends. I am really looking forward to the next High Sierras book, Already Gone.” ~paytonpuppy

  ALREADY GONE

  Diane Benefiel

  www.BOROUGHSPUBLISHINGGROUP.com

  PUBLISHER’S NOTE: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, business establishments or persons, living or dead, is coincidental. Boroughs Publishing Group does not have any control over and does not assume responsibility for author or third-party websites, blogs or critiques or their content.

  ALREADY GONE

  Copyright © 2018 Diane Benefiel

  Smashwords Edition

  All rights reserved. Unless specifically noted, no part of this publication may be reproduced, scanned, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of Boroughs Publishing Group. The scanning, uploading and distribution of this book via the Internet or by any other means without the permission of Boroughs Publishing Group is illegal and punishable by law. Participation in the piracy of copyrighted materials violates the author’s rights.

  ISBN 978-1-948029-34-6

  E-book formatting by Maureen Cutajar

  www.gopublished.com

  To my children, Katharine and Ethan.

  It is a wonderful feeling when your children grow up to be truly amazing adults.

  I love you both.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Thank you to my wonderful husband who doesn't complain when there's no dinner prepared and the house doesn't get cleaned because I've been sucked deep into writing. Good thing for both of us that he knows how to cook so we don't starve. Special thanks to Michelle at Boroughs for nudging me along with the High Sierras series and making the manuscripts shine.

  CONTENTS

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  About the Author

  ALREADY GONE

  Chapter One

  Maddy parked her SUV in the space closest to the back door of her café and stepped out of the car, tugging up her collar against the icy wind. The late November cold in the mountain town of Hangman’s Loss almost stole your breath. Stars glittered overhead and made her think of crystallized sugar against inky fondant. Some people might consider starting the workday before the sun rose the big downside of being a baker, but she really didn’t mind. Sure, sometimes she wished she could hit the snooze button for a few more minutes of sleep, but early morning was her favorite part of the day. The kitchen was all hers while she measured, mixed, and baked, filling the air with the glorious smells of cinnamon rolls, scones (pumpkin spice this time of year), pies, and tarts. These offerings were what made Hangman’s Best Café and Bakery a popular morning hangout. That, and free WiFi.

  She held her keys under the security light to find the one to the back door, then jammed it into the handset. The coffeemaker was already programmed to come on, so she’d pour herself a cup, get the cinnamon rolls started for their first rise, and then—her mental checklist came to a grinding halt. The doorknob was unlocked.

  There was that moment of uncertainty. Had she locked it when she left yesterday? Maybe she hadn’t. She’d been busy, thinking of the errands she needed to run before heading home to her little cabin. Could be she hadn’t been careful and simply forgotten. But what if someone had broken in?

  She chewed her bottom lip, then gave the knob a slow turn. The door opened silently. Keeping her body outside the door in case she needed to run, she flipped on the light to the kitchen. Sinks and dishwasher against the far wall, racks of baking supplies to her left, the aroma of dark roast told her th
e coffeemaker was doing its job. Everything looked as it should—except the storeroom door was closed, and the storeroom door was almost always open.

  Call the police—that was the smart thing to do. She should call the police, have them check, make sure no one was lying in wait, ready to attack a lone baker. But she’d feel really stupid if it turned out she’d just had an absentminded moment. It had taken long enough for people to take her seriously, to accept her as a competent businesswoman. Perky, ever cheerful Madison Gallagher, the girl next door, captain of her high school cheer squad. Do-gooder.

  Okay, there were way too many hiding places. The idea of searching behind the counters, then the dining room, the bathrooms made her uneasy. She took out her cell and tapped in her password. She’d do the sensible thing and call the police station, have them send out whoever was on duty. They’d do a walkthrough, everything would be fine, and she’d give the officer hot coffee and a muffin for his or her trouble. And hope they didn’t spread the word that she’d freaked over nothing.

  Dark spots on the floor snagged her attention. She frowned. Lulu had mopped yesterday, but there were dark spots on the floor. Wet, dark red spots.

  A slight sound from behind had her sucking in a breath to scream even as a low, male voice rumbled in her ear, “Madison.”

  She didn’t know how her heart could nearly jump out of her chest and keep beating. The shriek in her throat came out as a muffled yelp when a hand covered her mouth from behind. She struggled, jabbing back her elbow and connecting solidly against a hard body.

  A pained grunt and the hand over her mouth loosened. “God almighty, blondie.”

  “Logan?”

  “Yeah.”

  He loosened his hold and she turned around, trying to convince herself that her rapid heartbeat came from surprise, not because Logan Ross’s hands sent electricity zinging right through every part of her. Every part. “Why’d you sneak up on me? Are you trying to give me a heart attack? And what are you doing here?”

  She stepped back, her gaze running over him. A dark knit cap covered his head, the blue-gray eyes that had once so intrigued her looked exhausted, and his beard was scruffy, and not in a good way. He held what looked like a bundle of rags and a flashlight in one hand.

  “I need your help.”

  Maddy crossed her arms in front of her, and he must have read the You’ve got to be kidding in her expression because he dropped his head for a moment. “Right. Look, I know I’m absolutely the last person you want to see, but I really do need your help. Can we get in out of the cold?”

  She moved inside. “Did you pick the lock on my door?”

  “Yeah, sorry. Crappy lock. You need a better one, and a deadbolt, but I had to get her in out of the cold. She’s in the room to the right.”

  “Her? What’s going on?” Even as she spoke, Maddy opened the storeroom door and found the light already on. More blood spotted the floor. She followed the trail to the far corner, and was down on her knees the moment she spotted the dog. “Oh, baby. You’re hurt.” A dog, black and tan, maybe a Lab/Shepherd mix, its dark eyes dulled with pain, lay in the corner. The wound was a rough gash along her side, blood matting the dark fur. “Is she yours? What happened to her?”

  “I found her. I think she’s been hit by a car.”

  “Why’d you bring her here?” Gently, she stroked the dog’s head and looked up at him.

  “I couldn’t think of anyone else who would be up this early.” He held up the rags. “I went out to my truck to get something to wipe up the blood with.”

  “I didn’t see a truck.”

  “I parked on the side street.”

  Maddy rose to her feet and pulled out her cell phone. “I’m calling the vet.” She tapped out the number, and held the phone to her ear, gaze fixed on Logan. The other end of the line was picked up, and a groggy male voice mumbled hello.

  “Hey, can you come to the café? There’s a dog here that looks like it’s been hit by a car.”

  A moment later, she ended the call. “He’ll be here as soon as he can.” Logan didn’t say anything. “What?”

  “Nothing. Must be a good guy.”

  “He is.” She refused to be drawn in by the measured look.

  Logan leaned against a stainless-steel table, and she had the feeling that it was the only thing keeping him upright. He set the rags on the counter, the movement opening his coat. A stain darkened the left side of his sweater.

  “That’s blood. From carrying the dog?” She caught the wince when he shrugged. “Logan?” The stain had seeped into the hem of his jeans and her stomach gave an uncomfortable hitch. “That’s not the dog’s blood, is it? You’re hurt.”

  “I’m good. Since the vet’s coming, I’ll get out of here.”

  “No, you won’t. You better sit on that table before you fall down.”

  Surprisingly, he did what she asked, hefting himself up on the table with a groan, his expression strained. The heater had kicked on, so she pulled the heavy coat from his shoulders. Blood drenched the bulky sweater and a ragged, dark hole looked like it had burned through the fabric. She frowned. Then horror dawned. “Is that a bullet hole?” His pale, drawn face, the slow movements, now made a sick kind of sense. “You’ve been shot?”

  “Kind of.”

  “What do you mean kind of? How can you be kind of shot?”

  “Bullet grazed me, so not all the way shot.”

  Raising an eyebrow at his explanation, she lifted his sweater. The t-shirt beneath was soaked deep red. She pulled it up, revealing a furrow carved into the flesh at the bottom of his rib cage.

  “Got to lie down for a minute.” He eased himself onto the hard surface. Exhaustion didn’t only show in his eyes, but in the lines of his face, and through his slow, deliberate movements. The wound oozed fresh blood.

  “Damn it, Logan, why didn’t you say something?” Not waiting for a response, she continued, “Don’t move, I’ll get the first aid kit.”

  She darted into the small bathroom and washed her hands with soap, then grabbed the kit from the cupboard. Back at Logan’s side, she ripped open the packaging on large squares of gauze, made a thick pad, and pressed them against the wound. “What happened? Who shot you?”

  He didn’t say anything, and continued to lie back with his eyes closed. Keeping the pressure steady, she took a moment to study him. He was leaner than he’d been the last time she’d seen him. That had been eighteen months ago, when he’d showed up out of the blue after being absent from her life for nine years. She’d had nine years to get over him, to bury the anger, the hurt, but apparently that wasn’t long enough because all those emotions had resurfaced the previous year when he’d returned to Hangman’s Loss. And he’d had the nerve to kiss her. Kiss her! Oh, that burned. He’d walked out on her, devastated her, and then thought he could come back nearly a decade later and pick up where they’d left off. Then after that steamy kiss, he’d disappeared. Again. But working in the café, she heard things, and a couple of weeks ago she’d heard that Logan Ross was back in town. He must have been lying low, because she hadn’t seen him until ten minutes ago.

  “I can hear you thinking.”

  She ignored the comment. Blood soaked through to her fingers so she added more gauze to the pad. “Here,” she took his hand. “Keep the pressure on so I can tape it.”

  “You’re still pissed and all those angry thoughts are spinning around in your head. I can hear them.”

  She looked up from her first aid efforts to find his gaze fixed on her. “Pissed doesn’t even begin to describe my feelings toward you.” She applied the tape to hold the gauze in place. “I’m calling an ambulance. Then I’m calling the police. I’d call Brad, but he’s out of town.” Police Chief Bradley Gallagher, her brother, also happened to be Logan’s lifelong friend.

  “No ambulance. No police.” Pulling down his shirt, he pushed himself upright, sucking in a ragged breath. He pushed to his feet, swaying enough that she was afraid he might k
eel over.

  “Logan, you’ve been shot. Who shot you? You can’t leave.”

  He reached for his coat. “Don’t worry about me, blondie.”

  Maddy worked to suppress her concern. The injury and resulting blood loss had him pale and hollowed out. Maybe it was more than being shot; maybe he was sick. It looked like only sheer determination was keeping him vertical. “At least let me take you to the hospital.”

  “No hospital. I need to go. It’s better if you don’t tell anyone I was here.” She followed him to the door. He paused, holding on to the doorframe. His gaze traveled over her face, and she felt the heated surge low in her belly when he focused on her lips. “No one. I wouldn’t have come if there was anyone else I thought would take care of the dog.” He struggled into his coat, gritting his teeth at the movement.

  “Logan, wait.” He didn’t wait. “Why can’t I tell anybody I saw you? And you can’t disappear. I need to check on you.”

  “You don’t want to check on me. You hate me, remember?”

  “I’d check on you just the same as I’d check on the dog. Who shot you? Are you in danger?”

  “Later, blondie.” He walked out the door and disappeared into the early morning gray.

  Logan Ross eased behind the wheel of his pickup, pulled the door shut, then sat with his eyes closed to wait out the fresh wave of pain. Fuck it all to hell. On top of dealing with the dog, getting shot was damned inconvenient. Might have been worth it though, because for a few minutes Madison Gallagher had put her hands on him, something he hadn’t stopped dreaming about for the last decade. Not that he imagined her doing it while he was bleeding.

  He turned the key and put the transmission in gear, steering out onto the street. If seeing Maddy wasn’t enough to yank his heart out of his chest and pummel it to a pulp, driving through his hometown would have done it. Hangman’s Loss had decked herself out for the season. He turned down Main Street, where strings of lights sparkled from the eaves and windows, and stores had wreaths on their doors. All the years in the army he’d never let himself care about the holidays. He didn’t have family, so what was the point?