This Heart for Hire

by Marie Ferrarella

Curious, feeling the prick of anticipation, Jessica picked up the sheets that had, according to the date she noted stamped across the top, come in around midnight last night.

  Just as he was making love with her again, she recalled. A smile curved her mouth as her mind drifted for just a moment. She’d given up trying to block the emotions that overtook her each time she was near Logan, each time she thought of him. She knew what being alone was all about. Knew what aching so bad that it hurt worse than dying was like. That was all ahead of her again. Eyes wide-open, she meant to enjoy what was immediately in front of her before it was gone.

  Logan’s curiosity was aroused. “Find anything useful?”

  She was scanning each page quickly. “Not so far. Hey, wait a minute. Wait a minute,” she repeated with more force as the words on the page and their significance registered. Excitedly she began paging faster.

  “I’m waiting, I’m waiting,” he teased, humouring her. Coming up behind her, he rested his hands on the arms of her chair and leaned over her shoulder. Logan read the slightly blurred letters on the page she was holding. “That’s Bart Jenkins’s financial statements. I thought you said he was clean.”

  She had, but obviously she’d been laboring under a misimpression. Her pulse accelerated as pieces started to fall together.

  “Not according to this.” She glanced at Logan before continuing to read. This had to be it. “I didn’t know your Mr. Jenkins had Swiss accounts to close out.” She spread out several sheets on the desk, comparing them. “By the looks of these statements, he’s withdrawing money at a very fast rate.”

  With the tip of her finger, Jessica followed one month’s transactions. “Faster than the money’s coming in.” She shuffled the pages, looking for the final one. Finding it, she scanned it quickly. Bingo. “You ask me, Mr. Jenkins is a man on the cusp of experiencing a serious cash flow problem if he keeps this up.” Jessica drew the pages together into a pile again. “The money can’t be going on women because Jenkins doesn’t seem to lean in that direction.”

  Logan grinned at her delicate euphemism. Gripping the armrest, he spun her around so that her chair faced him. “You have been thorough.”

  “I’ve a reputation to maintain, remember?”

  Growing progressively more excited that this was the lead they’d been looking for, she turned away from Logan and thumbed through the pages all over again. It was all here, the paper trail they needed to confront Jenkins. At least it was a start.

  With any luck, it was a finish as well.

  Jessica looked at the sums that had gone out and whistled.

  “Looks like Mr. Bartholomew Jenkins loves to gamble. These checks are large enough to make my mother blush.” Jessica held the page up for Logan to see, pointing at a particularly huge sum.

  “And we all know she’s no piker.” He took the pages from Jessica and looked them over himself. The accounts were being depleted. There was no doubt about it Jenkins was in a financial crisis.

  Jessica reached for the papers he was holding. “I think I’d like to pay Mr. Jenkins a visit.”

  He gave them back to her. “Not without me,” Logan warned her.

  She heard the protective note in his voice. Torn between bristling at the chauvinistic sound of it and being warined by it, she settled for being diplomatic. “I’m your bodyguard, Logan, not the other way around.”

  There was no way, for Logan, that she was going to talk him out of going with her no matter what kind of logic she resorted to to convince him. “If it is Jenkins, I’d like my chance at him before we call in the police.” When he thought of how the man almost shot Jessica, the world was enveloped in white heat.

  She’d never known him to sound that physical before. He’d always been aloof from these kinds of confrontations. He fought with his tongue, his wit, not his fists. This was a side of him that she’d never seen. In a barbaric sort of way, she had to admit it was exciting.

  Still, exciting or not, there were rules to follow. “I can’t let you slam him around, Logan, no matter how much we’d both like to pummel him if he turns out to be our man.”

  There was no danger of him taking out his aggressions on Jenkins. If he so much as pushed Jenkins, the man would probably break in half.

  “You’ve obviously never seen Jenkins. The man is a walking toothpick.” Though he had to admit that the idea of putting his hands around the man’s throat and just shaking him for putting them through this had its appeal. “Let’s just say I’d like to have a few words with him before all this goes public.”

  “We’ll see.” She held up her hand as he started for the door. “Give me a minute to call Albert. Maybe there’s more.”

  Impatient now that they had something to go on, Logan nodded. He shoved his hands into his pockets, waiting until she made the call.

  Jessica had no sooner pressed the last digit of her office telephone number than she heard the receiver on the other end being picked up. “Albert?”

  A loud huff of air preceded his stinging greeting. “Where the hell have you been?” he demanded.

  She never reacted well to being hauled out on the carpet. Even by someone she cared about. “Where I’m supposed to be. Guarding Logan.” She slipped the pages into her purse. “Why didn’t you call me about Jerkins’s Swiss accounts?”

  “I did,” Albert countered indignantly, “several times Your cell phone insisted you were out of range.”

  Jessica realized that she’d let the battery run down because of her preoccupation with Logan. She’d let a lot of things go because of Logan.

  “And no one seems to want to answer His Majesty’s telephone,” Albert continued. “I wound up talking to his answering machine

  Looking over her shoulders, Jessica covered the mouthpiece. “Did you check your answering machine this morning?”

  Messages had been the last thing on his mind this morning. Waking to find her in his bed, just like old times, he’d taken advantage of the opportunity. Talking to someone from the office hadn’t even appeared on his list of priorities.

  “No, should I have?”

  She just shook her head. “Never mind.” Jessica uncovered the receiver. “I’m sorry, Albert, I got caught up in things.” She ignored the mumbled, “I’ll bet,” and continued. “Albert, I just went over the pages you faced. This is an enormous find on your part. It might be our first break—and none too soon. There was another attempt on Logan’s life last night.”

  A beat passed before she heard from Albert again. “Judging by your calm voice I take it that the attempt fell flat.”

  She could have sworn he sounded disappointed. She could just hear him after the case was over and Logan faded from her life. Albert would probably spring for a skywriter to write “I told you so” across the sky in huge letters.

  “Our record for never losing a client still stands,” she assured him. “How did you miss these accounts the first time?”

  “Simple. They’re under his father’s name—seems dear old Bart has power of attorney since his father’s mind went south.” Sarcasm dripped from Albert’s voice. She heard the rustle of papers on the other end. What was he looking for? “One more thing you might want to know. He has a permit for a gun. I checked it against the lab report on those bullets fired at you and golden boy outside the nightclub. Same caliber.”

  “Better and better,” she murmured, jotting down notes to herself on the bottom of the blotter. “You’re a gem, Albert.”

  “So they say.” It was his due and he took it as such. “Listen, I need to take the rest of the day off.” It wasn’t a request, it was a piece of information being tendered.

  Albert had never asked for time off. He was completely dedicated to manning his desk. “Albert, are you all right?”

  He sighed, surrendering. “If you must know, there’s a computer expo being held at the L.A. Con- vention Center this weekend. We could use a few updates on the equipment,” he added defensively.

  She wasn’t about to keep hi
m from his beloved hobby, especially not after it had helped yield all this information. “Anything you want, Albert.”

  “My, you sound happy. Logan?”

  She wasn’t about to go into details, especially not with Albert, not with the way he felt about Logan. “Just glad the case is finally coming together.”

  “Uh-huh,” he said skeptically. “Look, you need to stop by the office. I have the lease sitting on your desk. You need to sign it and get it into the mail today, or come the first of the month we’ll find ourselves doing business on the street corner.”

  “I’ll stop by,” she promised.

  “See you on Monday, then.”

  Monday. One way or another, the case would be over. And probably, so would everything else. “Count on it. And have a good time.”

  “I intend to.”

  Jessica hung up the receiver.

  In Logan’s estimation he’d been patient long enough. “So?”

  She rose, picking up her purse again, Albert’s faxed pages protruding from the top. “Let’s go pay Mr. Jenkins a call.”

  Logan was at the door before she finished her sentence. “Sounds good to me.”

  The moment they were admitted by the housekeeper and led to the living room and Jenkins, Jessica knew that he was responsible for the threats Logan had been receiving. He didn’t even try to act as if he wasn’t upset to see them there.

  But for the sake of argument, Jessica played it out slowly. After introducing herself, she shook the damp hand that had been half-heartedly extended to her.

  Eyes the color of burnt shoe polish moved nervously looking back and forth from Jessica to Logan, Bart Jenkins sat on the edge of the sofa. His hands were busily rubbing out what remained of the creases in his coal gray slacks. He looked ready to jump out of his skin, she thought, taking a seat opposite him and beside Logan on the love seat. The scent of onions unaccountably disturbed her nose and nudged at a memory she couldn’t pin down. “Thank you for seeing us, Mr. Jenkins.”

  Jenkins moved so perilously close to the edge of the sofa, he was in danger of falling off. “I’ve only a few minutes to spare, you understand.” He looked at his watch for emphasis. “I’ve got an important appointment I can’t afford to neglect—before the stockholders meeting,” he added as an afterthought. He licked his lips nervously. His shirt was growing damp.

  Jessica looked at him pointedly. A bug squirming beneath a microscope. “Would that ‘important meeting’ have something to do with your gambling debts?”

  His complexion, already pale, lost all semblance of color at the bluntly put question.

  “What makes you say that?” The question came out in a whisper.

  “Common knowledge,” she lied, answering before Logan could. She recalled some of the clubs on the statements Albert had faxed her. “Everyone knows that you like to gamble, Mr. Jenkins. That your marker is eagerly accepted in every gambling establishment in Las Vegas—and parts closer. You haven’t had a lucky day in months.”

  The markers that were making him sweat weren’t the ones held by reputable casinos, but by a far darker element residing in the gambling world. Men who weren’t afraid to take their payment out in trade if all else failed.

  Logan leaned closer. “Where’s all the money coming from, Jenkins?”

  Hostility flared in the dark eyes. Jenkins glared at him. “Not that it’s any business of yours, but I have a great many assets.” The expression on Logan’s face made him squirm.

  The next question only intensified Jenkins’s reaction. “Does your father know you’re siphoning off his accounts, Bart?”

  Beads of perspiration broke out in a thin, watery line along his upper lip. Jenkins pressed them together, running a nervous hand through hair that had begun to thin out prematurely several years ago.

  “My father’s not a well man right now. He can’t be troubled about these things.”

  Onions. Now she remembered. She’d caught a strong scent of onions when she’d entered the alley opposite The In Place. Jenkins had been in the alley, sweating profusely.

  Incensed, Jessica attacked him from the other side. “Where’s your gun, Bart?”

  He jumped as if he’d forgotten she was there. Like a cornered rodent, he lashed out in fear. “I don’t have a gun.”

  Jenkins looked far too nervous to be a cold-blooded killer. But men who had their backs pushed against the wall did desperate things. She watched him for any sudden moves.

  “According to the registration report, you do. The same kind of gun that was used to shoot at Logan.”

  “You’re crazy.” The denial exploded in a sudden volley.

  “Are we?” Logan asked calmly “Then let us have the gun, Bart. We can have a few simple tests run and clear all this up for you right away.”

  Trapped and frightened, Jenkins didn’t know which way to turn, what to say or think. It wasn’t supposed to have gone this way. Logan was supposed to back down, thinking that opposing the merger wasn’t worth the nsk of having something happen to him. Instead, now he was the one at risk. “I—I—”

  Getting up, Jessica crossed to the telephone and picked up the receiver. “If you don’t want to be cooperative, I’ll have to call the police and—”

  As if propelled by a hidden force, Jenkins bolted across the room to her. Logan was on his feet instantly, but all Jenkins did was slam his hand down on the receiver, breaking any connection.

  “No, don’t please. I just meant to frighten him.” Frantically he looked at Logan, appealing to him. To his sense of fair play. “Honest, Logan. I just wanted to frighten you, nothing else.” His lips twisted in an envious, pathetic grimace that passed for a smile. “You could talk a river out of flowing, and I needed this deal to go through.”

  Jessica undid the second and third buttons on Logan’s shirt, moving back the material to expose the thick bandage. “Enough to try to kill him?”

  Jenkins shook his head so hard, it seemed not to be connected to his neck. “I didn’t try to kill him.” And then the sight of the bandage registered. His eyes widened. “Omigod, did I do that?”

  Rebuttoning his shirt, Logan looked at Jenkins incredulously. “You didn’t even know?”

  “No, I swear. I just fired over your heads. I thought... Oh, God, I’ve made such a mess of everything.” Covering his face, Jenkins sank down on the sofa again. A wasted shell of a man. “And now I’m going to prison.” The words were followed by a barely stifled sob.

  Logan’s anger shpped away. There seemed to be no point to it. Jenkins probably didn’t even know what he was doing. And the man had enough demons to deal with already. “You’re not going to prison, Bart.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jessica staring at him.

  “What are you saying, Logan? He shot you.”

  Logan believed Jenkins when he’d said he hadn’t meant to. “Look at him, Jessi.” He gestured toward Jenkins. “The man’s a pathetic screwup, but he’s not a murderer. Just being faced with having to pay back his debts should be punishment enough for him.” More than enough, Logan added silently. “It wasn’t as if he was actually trying to kill me.”

  “I wasn’t, I wasn’t,” Jenkins bleated.

  “There, you see. He wasn’t.”

  In Jessica’s eyes Logan was treating this far too lightly. “Whether or not he ‘actually’ meant to, he could have. You’d be just as dead if he aimed for you, or accidentally miscalculated.”

  And she cared, he thought. Whether he lived or died, she cared. The rest didn’t matter as much as he’d thought. “Jessi, you were supposed to find out who was sending the threatening letters. You found him. Case closed.”

  “You have to call the police, Logan,” she insisted. “He threatened to bomb one of your buildings.”

  Logan sincerely doubted that Jenkins had meant to carry out that threat.

  “I know that every kid can look up how to make a bomb on the Internet these days, but I doubt very much if Jenkins could put it together even with the ea
siest instructions.” He looked over toward the man. “All part of the ploy, right Bart?”

  “Right. Oh, God, right.” Intensity increased in his voice with each word. “Logan, if you could just find it in your heart—”

  Logan cut him off. “Don’t beg, Jenkins. It’ll just turn my stomach. Just put your house in order,” Logan advised.

  Jessica couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She could remember when Logan’s competitive spirit escalated until he was ready to decimate everyone in his path on the track. She’d always assumed that that killer instinct carried over to all parts of his life. It was a revelation to learn it hadn’t.

  “Then you’re just going to walk away from him?”

  “Drawing and quartering’s frowned on these days.” Logan glanced down at the shoulder she’d just used for show-and-tell. “Besides, my shoulder’s mending. No harm done.”

  But it could have been. It could have been. Jessica shook her head. The decision ultimately was Logan’s. “If you say so.” She looked at Jenkins. “Count yourself lucky.”

  “Oh, I am, I am.” Like a puppet being jerked to its feet, he sprang up. “You have my full support, Logan, no matter what you want to do with the company. My absolute full support.”

  Logan doubted it.... Not that it mattered. Jenkins’s neck was on the line. He would still try to get people to change their minds. But he lacked the persuasive powers to sway anyone.

  Logan stood for a moment, looking at Jenkins. He hated to see anyone twisting in the wind this way.

  “Call my lawyer after the meeting, Bart. I’ll arrange some kind of loan for you—as long as you sign a statement to get help with that gambling problem of yours.”

  Jenkins stared at him as if Logan had just walked across water He grasped his hand. “I don’t know what to say. You’re a saint, Logan. A saint.”

  “Yeah, right,” Logan said under his breath. He slipped his hand along Jessica’s waist. “Let’s go, Jess. I’ve got things to do.”

  “You are, you know,” she said to him as they walked out. “An utter saint. I don’t know anyone else who’d have done that for a man who’d made him feel as if he were being stalked.”