Logan didn’t like Trent’s tone, but maintained an impassive face. “Sorry to keep you waiting. What’s up?”
“Well, you probably heard that we took in the guy driving the SUV that allegedly bumped into you.”
“Allegedly?” Logan peered curiously at Trent then decided to soften his approach. “Anyway...I heard he had some contraband, too.”
Trent frowned. “Well, that may or may not be true. But I’d like to get some photos of your Jeep. You know, where he hit you.”
“There’s some black paint on the fender dent, but thanks to my hefty bumper, there’s not too much damage.” Logan chuckled. “I suspect it hurt the SUV more.”
Trent nodded. “Yeah, there was some damage.”
“So you’re not going to reveal what kind of contraband you found?” Logan pulled out his phone. “I can find out easily enough. Or Mallory’s dad can. He’s on his way home.”
“Maybe you should ask Mallory what the guy had on him.” Trent narrowed his eyes. “Sounds like she might know.”
“That’s ridiculous. I can’t believe you’d fall for something like that.”
“I could say the same for you. But then it looks like you and Miss Myers have hit it off real nice.” Trent pointed to the gun in Logan’s hand. “What do you plan to do with that?”
“Just being careful. There’s someone dangerous out there.”
Trent scowled. “Well, you kids better be careful with those firearms. People who don’t know their way around guns can get hurt.”
“No worries.” Logan kept his voice easy, determined not to react. It would do no good to alienate Trent further. “Feel free to take as many photos of Jeep as you need. I thought maybe you were here to check out the burn site.”
“Yeah, I plan on doing that, too. But hearing that you guys running around with guns, I’m glad we made our presence known.” He shook a finger at him. “Better be careful where you shoot.”
“Don’t worry.” Logan started to close the door, but Trent stuck his big-booted foot in the way.
“I plan to stick around for a while. Got a lot of looking around to do. And I got copies of your report from the firehouse.” Trent jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “Winnie offered to show me around.”
“I can walk you through the site if you want,” Logan offered.
“I’ve got Winnie to help. We’ve got it covered.” Trent pulled his foot back.
Logan wanted to argue this point. Winnie hadn’t even been part of the investigative team. Logan could show Trent exactly where the incendiary device had been thrown, the angle it seemed to have come from and several other things. But since Trent was determined to play Deputy Know-it-all, why not let him? After all, the information was there in the report. And, if necessary, they could call in more experts on Monday. “Well, have at it.” Logan closed the door and shook his head. What an arrogant jerk.
“So, Winnie is helping him?” Mallory looked confused. “Is that normal?”
“It’s a small town. Normal is whatever happens.”
Mallory held up her revolver. “So, should we do it? Go out and get some target practice? There’s a small clearing out back that’s good for shooting. And my dad always has a box of old cans and plastic jugs in the garage, ready to use as targets.”
Logan considered this. “I appreciate your bravery, but I don’t want you out in the open, Mallory. What if someone decides to take a potshot at you?”
“It’s pretty wooded all around there. They’d have to move in pretty close to get a clear—” She paused to reach for her jingling phone. “Another text,” she said grimly.
“What’s it say?”
“‘Feeling safe now? Wait until dark.’” She looked around the living room with worried eyes. “Do you think someone’s listening to us in here? How do they know we’re feeling safe?”
“Are we?”
She frowned. “Not anymore.”
“Well, there’s no way anyone can hear us in here.”
“What about Trent? You told him we were—”
“I’ll admit he’s a jerk, but I don’t really think Trent’s in cahoots with criminals.”
“Then what does wait until dark mean?” She was pacing back and forth again, shaking her phone. “Do you think it’s from Brock, threatening from far away? Or does the guy in jail have a friend?”
“I don’t know. But I do know this—someone is definitely trying to rattle us.” Logan took in a deep breath. “Good reason to stay calm and think clearly.”
She stopped pacing and nodded. “Sorry. It just caught me off guard. I was actually starting to feel like we had a little control.”
“It’s a good warning to be even more careful. No going outside, Mallory.” He peered out the slit in the drapes over the front window, trying to see where Trent and Winnie were—wondering if it was possible that Trent actually had sent that text. Although that made no sense.
Mallory stood behind him. “Does it bother you that one of your crew—I mean Winnie—seems to be aligning herself with Trent?”
The truth was, it did bother him. But he knew that was the wrong answer. “Trent is a deputy. He’s doing an arson investigation. He probably asked the firefighters for a volunteer. Winnie is always eager to get involved in something exciting. Obviously, she gets a little too involved at times, and the girl needs to watch a little less CSI. But for the most part she’s well meaning and energetic...a hard worker.”
Mallory just nodded. “So we can trust her?”
“Of course.”
“And Trent?”
Logan scratched his head.
“Dad said not to trust him.”
“Yeah.” Logan nodded. “I agree. But we need to act like we do trust him or it will get worse. And, as fire chief, it’s important that I get along with the sheriff’s department in order to serve the community, but that’s as far as it goes as far as Trent is concerned.” He peered out again. “And the truth is, it does bug me that Winnie offered to help him. I’m tempted to march out there and have a talk with her right now.”
“Don’t hold back on my account.”
Logan pressed his lips together, trying to decide. “Okay. Let’s make a deal, Mal. I want you to stay in here and start getting all the blinds and drapes closed. This house has a lot of windows, and I don’t want us sitting here in a fishbowl. You take care of that, and I’ll go have a word with Winnie.”
Mallory gave a mock salute. “You got it, Chief.”
Logan knew he was probably on a fool’s errand as he walked down the graveled driveway. Winnie had already expressed her concern over him being involved with Mallory. It seemed unlikely she’d take him too seriously now. Except that he knew she had a bit of a crush on him. Maybe he could work that angle. Mostly he didn’t want Winnie to get hurt. He didn’t want anyone to get hurt. Not even Trent.
“Hey,” he called out as he approached Winnie. She was on one side of the burned clearing and Trent was on the other, with his back to them.
“Hey, Logan,” Winnie said in a friendly tone. “Tired of hanging with a murderer yet?”
He forced a weary smile. “You’re only revealing that you’re misinformed by saying that, Winnie.”
She put her face close to his, staring intensely. “Really? I thought you were the misinformed one, Logan. Seriously, what’s wrong with you? Aligning yourself with someone like Mallory Myers? Did you even read the newspaper article? What are you thinking?” She narrowed her eyes. “I know about the guy they took in. He’s connected to Mallory, Logan. Did you know that?”
“I do know that you don’t have all the facts, Winnie.”
“And you do?”
“I have a whole lot more than you. You don’t know what you don’t know, Winnie.” Logan didn’t want to argue with her. That wo
uld accomplish nothing. And now Trent had turned around, so Logan knew he had to talk fast. “Look, Winnie. This situation isn’t what you think it is. Mallory is in real danger. There’s already been more than one attempt on her life. For all we know there could be another one right here on this property. She’s received numerous threats today. And Mallory’s best friend was accidentally murdered—the hit man mistook Kestra for Mallory. For all we know the killer could mistake you for Mallory next time. You really want to take that risk?”
Winnie looked genuinely alarmed and he thought he was getting through to her.
“Winnie.” He placed a hand on her shoulder. “You’re part of my crew, and I believe you could be in real danger. I know you’re trying to be helpful by volunteering, but I’d feel a lot better if you were back at the station. Okay?”
She blinked in surprise. “Really?”
“What’s going on here?” Trent demanded.
“What’s going on is I don’t like seeing one of my firefighters placed in undue danger.”
“Danger?” Trent laughed and looked around. “What do you think is going to happen out here?”
“Brock Dennison’s lackey might mistake Winnie for Mallory.”
“Brock Dennison?”
Logan shrugged.
“You think he’s involved in this?” Trent’s pale brows arched. “Seriously, you don’t believe that, do you?”
Logan didn’t respond, just watched Trent, trying to gauge his role in this. How much did he know? Why was he so interested?
“Brock Dennison is a respected newscaster,” Trent told him. “You honestly think he’d hire a hit man? Or maybe you think Brock’s in the mafia now. Come on, Logan, get real. Can’t you see this girl is playing you? She wants you to think Brock’s the bad guy here, just another smoke screen. Kinda like setting this fire last night.”
Ignoring him, Logan turned back to Winnie. “Can’t you see something’s going on here?” he asked her. “For your own safety, you need to—”
“Are you kidding?” Trent interrupted. “She’s a firefighter. A tough girl.” He poked Winnie in the arm. “You afraid of something?”
“No way,” she retorted.
“I don’t know if you understand what’s going on,” Logan told Trent. “That Mallory is receiving threats on her life. Or that her friend was killed in her place. It’s possible that there’s a hit man somewhere nearby right now.”
“Wow, this girl is really getting to you, isn’t she?” Trent chuckled. “You got it bad, man. You’re just eating up everything she tosses at you.”
“I know what I know,” Logan declared. “I just wanted to warn Winnie since she’s part of my crew and I don’t want her to get hurt.” He turned back to her. “I’m not kidding, Winnie. You need to get out of here. Want me to call one of the guys to come pick you up?” He glanced over his shoulder. “You could come in the house to wait until they get here.”
“You thought that was safe, but now you’re acting like Winnie is in danger by being out here?”
“We changed our minds after Mallory got another text message.”
“What kind of message?”
Logan considered how much he wanted to say. “A threat. Not the first one, either.”
“If she’s getting threats, why doesn’t she report them to the sheriff’s department?”
“Because she sends them to a Portland detective who’s working on the case.”
“So, where will you be tonight?” Trent’s tone was challenging.
“We’ll be staying in the house.”
“Fine. Why don’t you do that?” Trent turned away.
“Winnie?” Logan tried one last time. “You coming?”
“Hey, I appreciate the concern, but I’m fine. And it’s fun working on an arson case that’s not just adolescent pranksters. No worries, Logan. I’m a big girl.” She gave him a grin.
He slowly shook his head, looking all around him as he walked back to the house. And, sure, he couldn’t see any sign of hit men or lowlifes or even a cantankerous squirrel around. No mysterious cars on the road. No unexplained shadows lurking in the trees. But if this thug knew what he was doing, he would probably know how to stay out of sight. At least until dark. Maybe Winnie was safe until then.
“Would she listen?” Mallory asked as he came back inside, pausing to lock the dead bolt behind him.
“Nope. I really tried, too. That girl is stubborn.”
“Maybe there’s romance in the air—I mean between her and Trent.”
Logan chuckled. “Maybe. Although, to be honest, Winnie is usually throwing her romantic whims in my direction.”
Mallory’s brows shot up. “And do you throw them back?”
“No.”
Mallory looked slightly dubious. “She’s a pretty girl, Logan.”
“I’m sure she’s some guy’s type.”
“Not yours?”
“Not in the least.” He frowned. “But I still feel protective of her.” He reached for his phone now. “In fact, I think I’ll let my assistant chief know that she might be in danger out here. Rod’s in charge right now, and he can make an executive decision to insist she return to the station.”
It took a little convincing, but eventually Rod agreed to Logan’s suggestion, promising to send someone out to fetch Winnie within the hour. Logan felt a small measure of relief as he closed his phone. Still, he wondered, what would be in store for them later tonight? After dark?
ELEVEN
“I thought I’d get some sense of comfort seeing Brock on the Channel Six News,” Mallory told Logan during the commercial break. They had been preparing dinner as they watched the news from the big-screen TV in the great room, but after twenty minutes Mallory had turned it off. “But I was wrong. Hearing his voice makes my skin crawl.” She continued slicing tomatoes for the green salad.
“Comfort?” Logan slid the steaks under the broiler.
“Comfort because, in my mind, he’s the one who killed Kestra and my greatest fear was that he was going to kill me, but he obviously couldn’t kill anyone while doing live on TV.”
“Obviously.”
“Doing the news is the perfect alibi for murder. In fact, I suddenly feel certain he’ll try to have me killed while he’s on the air. I wish we hadn’t tuned in at all,” she said with remorse. “I should’ve known he’d lead with Kestra’s murder story. It’s the big news item of the week. But I never dreamed he’d let Abby Kingston interview him like that. And, if you ask me, it was scripted. I’m sure I could see his eyes reading the teleprompter.”
“I thought he seemed surprisingly sincere. And you have to admit that appearing candid was effective.”
“I have to admit it made me feel sick,” she shot back. “To hear him pretending to be so distraught over Kestra’s death, like he’d lost his one and only true love, when I know for a fact he was using her to get to me. Then acting like he’s bending over backward to assist the police to find the murderer. Begging viewers to share information and offering a reward from his own pocket.”
“Well, maybe someone out there knows the guy who killed Kestra. Maybe they’ll call.”
Mallory let out a humph noise. “How about him describing his sleepless nights. Yeah, right. And did you notice those dark shadows beneath his eyes?”
“Now that you mention it, yeah.”
“It’s makeup!” She gave the red onion a loud whack with the chef’s knife.
“How could you tell?”
“Because if Brock really had dark circles, Su Jin in makeup would’ve concealed them completely. And I’ve seen Brock tired before, like after the all-night telethon, but I’ve never seen dark circles. Even without makeup, they wouldn’t show up beneath his tan. Did you know he uses a tanning bed? No, of course, not.
No one knows.”
Logan looked slightly uneasy, but Mallory was fired up now, unable to stop. It felt as though all the anxiety that had been penned up inside of her was unleashing. And even though she knew it was ugly and bitter and pathetic, she was unable to stop herself.
“He should get an Emmy for when he said he didn’t really think I could’ve committed the murder, acting all concerned over my reputation and the recent media attack. He almost had me believing him—for a few seconds. But then he comes back with that line about how jealousy does strange things to people, even using the woman scorned quote, but with such sadness and regret. What a jerk!” Mallory threw the chopped onions into the bowl then grabbed a green pepper. “It’s like he’d carefully rehearsed every word of it.” Mallory whacked the pepper in two. “He says just enough to sound sympathetic about me and then, bam, he throws me under the bus.”
Logan folded his arms over his chest as he watched her. “I have to admit this guy is convincing. He really knows his stuff.”
“He’s a big phony! Can’t you see that?”
“Unless he’s innocent.”
Mallory paused with the chef’s knife in mid stroke. “Are you kidding?”
He held up his hands. “Hey, don’t brandish that thing at me.”
“Seriously?” She waved the knife in the air. “Are you afraid of me? You really think I murdered my best friend?”
He turned to open the oven door, taking his time to check on the steaks before he turned around to face her. “No, Mallory, I’m not afraid of you.” He dropped the potholder and came over to where she was working. Without saying another word, he slipped an arm around her waist and gave her a gentle squeeze, pulling her close.
“I know, I know,” she lowered her voice. “I’m losing it. Letting him get to me again.” She paused to absorb the sensation of his arm around her waist. It felt like a cool shower over a smoldering fire.
“It’s understandable.”
“But useless.” It was nice. His arms around her seemed to smooth it all out, as though suddenly Brock hardly mattered.
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