by Lori Foster
Hand covering her mouth, Alice looked at Cash with a wealth of emotion. She moved in closer to hug Cash tight.
Sensing her deep sympathy, the dog looked at Reese with worry. Expressive dog.
“I didn’t really think it through,” Reese explained. “I just took him to the vet, then spent a small fortune getting him a flea dip, his ears cleaned, his blood checked…the whole shebang. Thus his name, Cash.”
“That was so kind of you.”
Great. Melodrama. Just what he didn’t need. “That was human of me. Whoever put him in that box is lacking humanity.” And should be beaten, at the very least. “But the point is, now I have a dog, and I’m fond of him and he of me, but unfortunately I sometimes have to work weird times of the day so—”
“You’d like me to be the dog sitter?”
In case she thought to refuse, Reese went about convincing her. “He’s smart, so I know he can learn about tearing up stuff and waiting to go outside. Of course I’ll supply all his food and anything else you’d need. And—”
“I’d love to.”
“I’ll pay you,” he said at almost the same time.
They stared at each other.
Reese moved down a step to be closer to the dog—and to Alice. “I’m sure we could come up with an agreeable wage, and I could even pay overtime whenever my hours get too screwy.” Like they were bound to be again today.
“I like Cash.” She held the dog protectively to her chest. Cash’s eyebrows went up and down as he looked at Reese with uncertainty. “I don’t mind watching him.”
“But I’ll still insist on paying you.” He patted his thigh. “Come here, Cash.”
The dog bolted over to him, crawled into his lap but then stretched out to lick at Alice’s hand.
A diplomat or an affection hog—Reese wasn’t sure which.
Alice looked ready to melt. “Okay.”
On to the next hurdle. “You can’t watch Cash and ban me from your apartment.”
Her gaze shot up to his. “I wasn’t banning, exactly…”
Before she could get too worked up, he said fast, “It’s okay. I’m not going to pry.” Yet. “But I’m a cop, you know. I’m trustworthy. And I need to know Cash is safe.”
Umbrage put her shoulders back and stiffened her neck. “If you’re suggesting—”
“Not suggesting a thing.” More like setting up the rules. “I’m only saying that ours will be a friendly business arrangement, and there’s no reason for you to worry about me overstepping, in any way.” Just because he suddenly wanted to kiss her silly…no reason at all. “I want everything clear up front.”
“Everything?”
“The details of our arrangement.”
She continued to regard him in stiff wariness.
Better to save that discussion for later. He checked his watch to drive home his lack of free time. “But right now, I have to go shower and shave and get to work. Are you okay for now?”
“Yes.”
Still stiff. Great. So far he batted a big fat zero. “Today will probably be another lousy day. But I might—” as in definitely would “—come by during my lunch so that Cash doesn’t think I’ve handed him over.”
“Fine.”
He rubbed his bristly jaw, but time did run thin. “We’ll talk more as soon as I get a chance.” He cupped Cash’s furry face. “You be good, my man.”
Almost as if he understood, Cash did an army crawl over to Alice. He rolled to his back on her lap and gave her a big doggie grin.
Alice cuddled him like an upset child.
“You big mooch.” Reese had to laugh. Well-laid plans went to shit all around him, but at least he had a handle on this. “Thank you, Alice. It means a lot to know Cash is well cared for.”
She didn’t look up at him. She kept her face tucked close to Cash’s. “My pleasure.”
And that was something else he’d like to see.
Alice’s pleasure.
There were a lot of reasons why he should curb those thoughts. She was a neighbor. She had some issues going on that he didn’t yet understand. And she was his dog sitter.
But… He looked down at a crooked part in her hair. No, he really didn’t care about any of that. He wanted her. Eventually he’d have her.
“I’ll see you, Alice.”
She didn’t say goodbye. But then, she’d never said hello, either.
*
LOGAN AND REESE stood together while the lieutenant briefed everyone on the bombing.
Without looking at Logan, she said to Reese, “I want you to take the lead on this.”
Given her apparent mistrust, that surprised both men. Logan was heading up the task force; it didn’t make sense to switch things up right now, but what could he say? He needed as much free time as he could get. The fact that Peterson was working an angle of some sort could be used to his benefit.
Reese stared at her, then nodded. “Of course.”
She went on to name the officers covering the scene at the club and the hospital. “We have two of Andrews’s men under watch. They’re injured, but should survive.”
That was news to Logan. Rowdy hadn’t mentioned it, but it made sense. “They haven’t said anything yet?”
“They were being treated, then went to sleep with painkillers.”
“And no one pushed for info?” If their injuries weren’t life-threatening, someone should have picked their brains at the first opportunity.
“There’s enough bad press on us at this point. They aren’t going anywhere, and no one has been allowed in to see them.”
“I’ll head there now—”
She shook her head. “I want you to interview the witnesses.”
“We have witnesses?” Other than Pepper, whom he had under wraps. “Who?”
“Clubgoers, passersby, employees…typical lineup of possible observers. So far no one seems to know anything, but keep picking. You never know when a clue might present itself.”
So she wanted him grounded at the station? Reese sent him a curious look, but Logan could only shrug.
Peterson went on to detail the officers working behind the scenes in supporting roles. There’d be computer checks to do, video cam footage to watch, warrants to obtain.
All in all, Logan wasn’t displeased with his assigned duty. When the lieutenant finished, he followed her to her office and tapped on the door frame. “Got a second?”
As if expecting him, she seated herself and opened a file before saying, “What’s on your mind, Detective?”
“Are you having Andrews’s death confirmed?”
That brought her head up. For several seconds she scrutinized him. “It’s going to be difficult. He must have been holding the bomb when it detonated.” She held up her hands and wiggled her fingers. “No fingerprints.”
“Shit.” That was too damned convenient for comfort.
“The blast did considerable damage to his teeth as well, and his face…it’s gone.”
More than ever, Logan needed to see the body.
“I’m expecting an official report later this morning, but who knows? DNA sampling would be the last option.”
Too expensive. “Relatives?”
“None that we’re aware of.” She closed the file folder. “You have reason to believe it’s not him?”
“I wouldn’t leave it to chance.”
“Of course not.” She swung her chair from side to side. “So Morton Andrews is presumed dead, a human trafficker is murdered, and you let Rowdy Yates go.”
The accusation stiffened his spine. That’s why she wanted to keep him at the station? “I had no reason to keep him.”
“Hmm.”
The noncommittal sound grated. Logan held her gaze and waited.
“Was Rowdy able to give you any useful information at all?”
Disliking the line of questioning but determined to hide it, Logan took a seat across from her. “He confirmed that some from the police department were on Andrews’s pa
yroll around the time Jack was murdered.”
“Old news.” She flagged her hand in indifference. “You know where he is?”
“Rowdy?” He’s off doing my job for me—but of course Logan wouldn’t inform her of that. “Not specifically, no.”
She frowned.
Logan offered, “I could probably find him.”
“Good. You do that.” Almost like a dismissal, she checked her watch.
Logan didn’t budge. Because they still didn’t have reason to arrest Rowdy, he said, “You want me to ask him to come back in?”
“He and his sister, yes.” She lifted her brows at him. “I have a meeting with the press in five minutes.”
Trying to show no reaction to her order, Logan stood. “Is there something I don’t know?”
“Given that you were running the task force, I shouldn’t think so.” She put her fingers together and studied him. Finally she said, “But then, you and Detective Bareden were out of touch last night.”
Irritation sparked. “For a little while. Did you try to reach me? I didn’t see any missed calls on my cell.”
“So you didn’t know about Morton’s death until this morning?”
Straight-faced, without a single sign of deception, he said, “No.”
“You didn’t watch any television, listen to a radio…?”
“My personal time is my own,” he said, and he told a half lie. “But I was with a woman, and, no, we weren’t watching television or listening to the radio.”
“Ah. Well, that would explain it, I guess.” She stood. “I take it Detective Bareden was similarly preoccupied?”
Logan shrugged. “You’d have to ask him.”
Taking a big verbal leap away from her inquisition, she said, “The club is of course shut down, the scene secured, but it won’t do us much good. The place was mobbed—all three floors. Everything had already been trampled and tossed by the time we got there.”
“Morton’s office?”
“The scene is safeguarded, but even without the damage of the bomb, do you really think he’s dumb enough to keep anything incriminating where others might get to it?”
Not really, no. “How was he identified?”
“You mean, given that his face was blown off?” She smirked at him. “Clothes, hair and ID in the wallet in his pocket.” She strode past him. “The build matches and the hair color—what wasn’t bloodied—matched up. Now if there’s nothing else?”
“No.”
“Then I suggest you get to work on those witnesses.”
Logan followed her from the office and then kept going to his desk to get the report on the witnesses he’d be interviewing. He wanted to call Rowdy, but not yet. He needed complete privacy for that, and that meant getting through part of the day first. He had questions to answer, plans to make, reports to fill out.
He locked gazes with Reese.
Where to start, he wondered…and with whom?
*
MOSEYING BAREFOOT around the property, Pepper saw that it was more weeds than grass, without a speck of landscaping in sight. The sun was so incredibly bright that it hurt her eyes—and she loved it.
The old house could use a new coat of paint. The windows needed a good cleaning. A few flowers would really be nice.
Like a vigilant shadow, Dash trailed silently behind her. He wasn’t intrusive, but he wasn’t an irritant, either.
Knowing he’d hear her, she said, “If I had a place like this, I’d plant wildflowers everywhere.”
“The point of wildflowers,” he replied, “is that you don’t have to plant them.”
“But I would.” She stopped at the corner of the house to pull up a sturdy weed. “There are some really pretty ones, and they don’t need much care.”
“Meaning my house looks bare?” He smiled at her.
He was so incredibly handsome that if Logan didn’t already have her so twisted up inside, she might have been more admiring. “You’re supposedly rolling in dough, right? So why don’t you pretty up the place a little?”
He bent to pull a weed, too. “I’m not rolling in dough,” he told her. “But I am comfortable.”
She snorted. Comfort could mean a variety of things to a variety of people. Only the well-to-do used it to describe a lifestyle filled with security and extravagance.
“If I lived here,” Dash said, “maybe I would decorate more. But the draw for me is that I don’t have to do anything when I’m here. I cut the grass—”
“You mean the weeds,” she quipped, and pulled another.
“—when it’s necessary. But mostly I just laze around in the sun, go swimming, row out the boat, that sort of thing.”
“Do you come here often?” If it was her place, she’d never want to leave.
“A day here, a day there, and a couple of times a year I find a week or more.” He bent, turned over a rock and watched a fat spider scurry away. “I don’t want this to become a big responsibility, and that’s what it’d be if I felt like I had to get here to water bushes or flowers, or trim the lawn.”
“I guess. But you could hire someone.” Since he was so well-off.
“Then others would know about it.”
And Logan wouldn’t have felt comfortable leaving her there. Dash hadn’t complained, but she still felt she owed him an apology. “I’m sorry that we intruded on your privacy.”
Standing in the shade of a shed, he looked around at the fallen branches and twigs from tall trees, and at the rusted lock on the shed door. “Don’t be. Logan knows he can count on me for…anything.” He checked the lock. “Damn, I guess I do need to do a little maintenance work.”
“You have a lawnmower?”
“Push, yeah.” Using his wrist, he cleaned sweat off his forehead. “The hill is too steep for a rider.”
“I’ll cut the grass.”
He paused. “You don’t need to do that—”
“I want to. I love the sun and the heat and the fresh air.” Grudgingly, she confessed, “I’m a little bored, and I’m feeling sluggish. Since I don’t have a suit for swimming, and Logan got his boxers in a bunch over the idea of me skinny-dipping—”
“Would you have?” he interrupted her to ask. “I mean, without Logan here to know you’re doing it?”
The grin came slow and easy. “You think I only did that to irk him?”
“Yes.”
And he’d be right. “You’ve got me there. But if you tell him, I’ll make you sorry.”
He joined her in grinning. “Why would I do that?”
“Logan is your brother.”
“That he is, and even though I love him, last night was mighty entertaining.”
Entertaining? That hadn’t been her intent at all. But it was so nice hearing Dash openly admit to loving Logan that she let it slide. “Most men aren’t so honest with their feelings.”
“Men who aren’t wusses are.”
She laughed at that. “I’m not overly modest, you know, but I’m not really someone who runs around in the buff, either.”
“You impressed me. It was a diabolical payback, the type only a woman could connive.”
“I’m not sure I like the way you say that.” He made her sound really vindictive and wicked. Was she? Okay, she could be. But Logan had it coming…didn’t he?
“I just meant that Logan’s too serious. I like it that you’re keeping him on his toes.”
“Yeah, well, I’m still mad at him.” She went to the shed and tugged at the flimsy lock. “You have a key?”
“Tucked out of sight on a hook inside the lazy-Susan cabinet.” He crossed his arms. “Are you really that angry with him, even knowing why he had to dupe you?” Understanding softened his tone. “Or is it that you’re still hurt because you care about him, and you trusted him?”
Pepper took in his sincere gaze, the dark brown eyes so much like Logan’s, the breadth of his shoulders and the way his biceps bunched with his crossed arms. Beard shadow darkened his jaw and gave hi
m an appealing, rakish look, and that smile… He probably broke hearts on a regular basis.
“Did I grow horns or something?”
She shook her head with amusement. “I bet you have an easy time of it with the ladies, don’t you?”
“Dodging the answer?”
“Just making an observation. And the answer is…both.”
He considered that before nodding and giving an answer of his own. “Women aren’t too difficult once you understand them.”
“What’s there to understand?”
“Number one is that they’re different from men—more tenderhearted, gentler and far more emotional.”
“That’s awfully sexist.” Was she being too emotional about Logan’s ruse?
“But true all the same.” Dash winked. “Later, when it cools down, we can work on cutting the grass if you really want to. For now, why don’t we swim? There’s heavy-duty sunscreen inside, and you can borrow my drawstring shorts and a T-shirt to use. I promise, no matter how awesome you look in the getup, I’ll do my best not to notice.”
Such a charmer. “Okay, sure.” Maybe she could use the time with him to dig into Logan’s psyche. No way did she want to be the overly emotional one. “You’ll tell me more about Logan?”
He started them both back toward the house. “What did you want to know?”
“Everything.” And to ensure he didn’t disagree, she said, “It’s the least you can do to entertain me while I’m stranded here.”
“All right. But be prepared to dislike us both even more. Overall we’ve led pampered lives filled with love and indulgence.” He smiled while saying that. “Our mom is a natural-born coddler and our dad is a real stand-up guy. Life has been good.”
Oddly enough, she was glad to hear it. “I don’t dislike either of you.”
“No?” He looked pleased with her confession.
“No.” She wouldn’t wish her childhood on anyone. “I’ll treat your story like a fairy tale.” And maybe it’d make it easier for her to sleep at night.
That is, after she got a little more retribution with Logan.
*
LOGAN FOUND HER in the rowboat, stretched out on her back across one of the hard wooden seats, a floatation cushion under her head, her feet hanging over the side. Dappled sunlight came through the tall trees shading the lake. Rippling waves kept the boat rocking lazily, occasionally bumping the dock.
