Dylan looked confused. “Why would it be?”
“Logan works for the Bozeman Chronicle, not the Los Angeles Times.”
Kathy looked up at Tess. “He works on contract with the Chronicle, but still does freelance work.”
Tess bit her bottom lip. This was worse than she imagined. “Are you saying the story might be in other major newspapers?”
“I don’t know,” Kathy said. “Unless he sold the story to other corporations it might only be in this paper.”
“It’s not.”
Tess and Kathy stared at Dylan.
“What do you mean?” Tess asked.
“The story was picked up by all major newspapers.”
Tess dropped her head to her chest.
Dylan moved closer to her. “Are you okay?”
“No.”
Kathy moved the newspaper into the center of the blanket. “I think we’d better read this story together. What do you think?”
Tess looked down and saw a picture of a pretty woman with big green eyes staring straight at her. Whoever had taken the photo knew what they were doing. Then she looked at the rest of the page. Logan’s story hadn’t only made the front page, it was the only story on the front page.
Kathy squeezed Tess’ hand. “Are you ready?”
Tess nodded. Senator Gibson represented California. Logan had struck into the heart of where his re-election votes would come from. The fall-out would be huge.
She’d sooner read the story with Dylan and Kathy. If she left it until tonight, she’d be on her own, terrified the Senator would be sending his henchmen to kill her.
And that would be much worse than sitting in the middle of Yellowstone National Park, reading the story and working out what to do next.
Chapter Ten
Dylan parked his truck at the back of Tess’ café. He frowned at the staircase leading up to her apartment. “I’m not happy about leaving you here alone.”
“I’m used to being alone,” Tess growled. They’d been having the same argument since they’d left the Park nearly two hours ago.
“I could stay with you for the night?” Kathy offered.
“I’ll be okay. I’ll call if I need you.”
“There’s someone in your apartment.” Dylan’s voice dropped to an urgent whisper. “Wait here.” He slipped out of the truck, all six-foot-five of him, and walked carefully up the stairs.
“I’m going in,” Tess said to Kathy. “If I scream call 911.”
“You should stay here. Dylan can take care of whoever is in your apartment.”
Tess opened her door. “That’s what I’m afraid of.” She followed Dylan up the stairs, stopping when he turned and glared at her. He pointed at the truck and she shook her head. For the first time since she’d known him, Dylan looked angry. Dead-pan, no holds barred, angry.
She stuck her nose in the air and kept moving toward him.
He waited until she was behind him. “Stay glued to my back,” he hissed.
She wasn’t going to push her luck by explaining just what a disaster that would be. She wasn’t tiny, petite, or in need of a white knight in shining armor. If Tess stuck to his back, they’d end up falling over each other. Given the personal space issues she’d watched Dylan struggle with, a full body contact incident would leave him in a complete panic.
He put his hand on the door handle and turned the knob. The lock clicked open. Before Tess could move a low growl filled the air. It sounded like a big, mean dog was standing on the other side of the door, waiting to take an enormous bite out of their retreating bottoms. Dylan’s instructions to stay glued to his back finally made sense.
“Max, down.”
Dylan turned to Tess. “What the…”
The door opened and Sally stood in front of them holding a grinning Max. At least that’s what Tess thought Max was doing.
“I thought you’d be home later. I’ve made dinner for everyone.” Sally smiled at Dylan. “Sorry about that. Max thinks he’s Rambo sometimes, but he wouldn’t hurt a fly.”
Max, the dog that was as big as a pony, gave a short, sharp bark to reinforce what Sally had said.
Tess patted Max’s head. “What are you doing here?”
“I read the article. Did you get my text?”
Tess pulled her cell phone out of her jacket and looked at the caller display. “It didn’t come through.” She scrolled through a couple of pages. “It’s on silent mode. You’ll be at my place from five o’clock and staying the night. You’re making dinner. Bring wine.”
The frown hadn’t dropped off Dylan’s face. “How did you get in?”
“Tess keeps her spare key above her door, up here.” Sally reached above the wide timber bead surrounding the door. She pulled a magnetic key box out of its hiding place. “See…easy.”
“We need to talk security,” Dylan muttered. He looked at Sally. “Don’t tell me you keep your house key in the same place?”
“Of course not,” Sally said with a superior smile. “I keep mine under a pot of daisies.”
Dylan huffed then gave Max a hard stare. Max wagged his tail and jumped on Dylan, licking his face with all of the exuberance of a dog that didn’t realize his days of freedom might be numbered.
Sally gasped. “Max. Down.”
Dylan managed to untangle Max’s tongue from his face before wiping the slobbery mess away.
Sally pulled Max back to her side. “You don’t want a dog to take home with you by any chance, do you?”
“Max isn’t yours?”
“He belongs to the animal shelter. I’ve got one more week to find him a home. You look so good together.”
Dylan looked more closely at Max. “I can’t have dogs in my rental, but I know someone who might be interested.”
“Don’t let what just happened put you off. Max is a great dog. He just needs someone who’s got the size and time to teach him how to be a good boy. Isn’t that right, Max?” Max woofed and Sally smiled at Dylan. “Give me a call any time of the day or night. I’ll deliver Max to his new home myself.”
Tess heard a door slam and looked down at Dylan’s truck. Kathy was closing each of their doors.
She walked up the stairs and smiled at Tess. “You haven’t screamed so I thought it must be safe.”
Tess pointed to Sally. “This is my friend, Sally Gray. Sally, this is Kathy, Logan’s mom from Seattle.”
Sally stuck her hand out. “Nice to meet you. And this big dog is Max. He’s an Irish Wolfhound mixed with lots of different things. Come inside and enjoy Tess’ home.”
Kathy smiled at Sally and patted Max’s head as she walked past him. “He’s a very big dog.”
“He needs someone that’s got a big backyard or a ranch. Living in an apartment is too stressful. One wag of his tail and everything disappears off the table.”
Max, sensing impending doom if he wagged his tail, went over to the far side of the room and flopped down on a blanket.
Sally opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle of white wine. “Who wants a glass of wine?”
“Not for me, thanks,” Dylan said. “If Tess isn’t going to listen to me, I’ll head home if Kathy is ready to go. I’m working tomorrow.”
“That’s fine by me,” Kathy said. “I want to speak to my son, anyway.”
Tess had a feeling Logan was in for a grilling. Dylan still looked worried, in his normal understated way. “Everything will be okay. Logan didn’t mention my name once in his story. No one’s camped outside the café with murder on their mind and there’s no graffiti on the building.”
“I’m staying the night with Max,” Sally added. “He might be a bit of a softy, but if someone Tess doesn’t know comes to the door, they won’t get past him.”
Dylan glanced at Max and Max’s ears pricked to attention.
“No, Max,” Sally warned.
Max flopped back down. He rested his head on his paws and looked up at Dylan through his long lashes.
Kathy laughed
. “If I had room at my house in Seattle I’d be tempted to take Max home with me. He has a lovely personality.”
Dylan took his keys out of his pocket and glanced at Sally. “I’ll let you know tomorrow what my friend says. And you…” He handed Tess a business card. “Don’t open your door to anyone you don’t know. If you feel unsafe, call me or the police.”
“Yes, sir.”
Dylan sighed. “We’d better get going, Kathy. I don’t want to say or do something I’ll regret.”
Tess didn’t think that was possible. Dylan was cool, calm and collected. Even when more than one hundred pounds of happy dog landed on his chest.
Kathy gave Tess a hug. “I’ve had a great day. Don’t let that son of mine give you a hard time. From what you told me and what I read in the paper, the Senator deserves to be behind bars.” She gave Sally a quick hug. “It was nice meeting you, too.”
Tess opened her back door and watched Dylan and Kathy drive away.
Sally handed her a glass of wine. “Drink this. Then you can tell me why you’ve never talked about what happened when you were a model. It must have been heartbreaking.”
“It was. But first I’m going to give Annie and Molly a call. Do we have enough food for all of us?”
“Are you kidding? I’ve cooked enough meatloaf for a family of ten. Tell them to bring wine.”
Tess picked up the phone and called Annie. It had been a long, tiring and emotional day. She’d hardly had any sleep for the last two nights, but she needed to see her friends. She wanted to explain why she hadn’t been completely honest when she’d told them about her life. Why she’d hidden away from the world and been so paranoid about being photographed.
And more than anything she wanted to talk about Evie, and finally put to rest the shadow that followed her around.
***
Logan knocked on Dylan’s front door. He wasn’t home.
For most of the day, Logan had been answering phone calls from journalists from around the country. Over the years, Senator Gibson’s name had been linked to many high-profile charities and organizations. After his story had hit the headlines, everyone wanted more information. They wanted to reconcile the good looking Senator with the drug dealing opportunist they’d read about.
Logan sat in his truck and answered another call. This one was from a reporter in Paris. They wanted to know whether Senator Gibson was linked to any French nationals. The only connection to France Logan had found, was to a property in Aquitaine. According to the Senator’s ex-wife, he’d taken his girlfriends to the rustic mansion for romantic weekends away.
It was no wonder Marcie was making every cent she could out of her life with her ex-husband. She’d already sold her story to a high-profile magazine and agreed to be interviewed on the biggest talk show in America. She was on track to make a fortune from her husband’s drug dealing life.
Marcie didn’t have any regrets about going public, but Logan wasn’t so lucky. He regretted his friendship with Tess being the catalyst to writing the story. He regretted knowing she must think he’d used her for his own gain. And he regretted what could happen next with Jilly.
Someone tapped on his passenger window. “You going to sit there all night or come inside?”
Logan had never been happier to see Dylan. He turned his phone off and jumped out of his truck. “How’s Tess?”
“She’s okay. I dropped your mom off at your house. She wants you to give her a call.”
“Did mom see the story?”
“She read it with Tess.”
Logan didn’t like the sound of that. “What did they say?”
“Your mom thought it was well written, balanced and thought provoking. By the end of it, she wanted to strangle the Senator and put him behind bars for what he’d done.”
“What about Tess?”
Dylan hesitated. “She didn’t say much. Did you consider showing her the article before it was published?”
“Yes, but I didn’t want her to worry about it.”
“You’re kidding? She expected to see her photo staring back at her and her name splashed across the pages. She wouldn’t have been half as worried if you’d shown her what you’d written.”
Logan followed Dylan onto his front porch. “It’s not my story I’m worried about. Jilly isn’t happy.”
“I don’t expect she is. You took what she thought was her story and published it first.”
“She’s writing another story.”
“Do you know what she wrote?”
“No.” Logan stepped inside Dylan’s home and looked around. “You still haven’t unpacked everything?” About eight boxes lined one wall of the living room. They’d been sitting there for the last six months. Logan didn’t know if Dylan hadn’t unpacked them because he didn’t have the time or if he wasn’t sure he wanted to stay.
Dylan glanced at the boxes on his way through to the kitchen. “I emptied another one last weekend. I’m not in a hurry, especially if I find somewhere to live in Bozeman.”
“A snail moves faster than you when it comes to unpacking. Even if you move, it would be good to get everything out of their boxes. Do you want me to give you a hand?”
“Does it look as though I need help?”
Logan sat on a kitchen stool and leaned against the counter. “Everyone needs help now and then.”
“If you want to be useful you can put the coffee machine on and make us a drink. I’ll start the barbecue. You look as though you could do with a decent meal.”
“Do I look hungry?”
Dylan frowned. “You look like death warmed over. What’s going on?”
“Life.”
“Been there, done that. Care to elaborate?”
Logan added water to the coffee machine. He hadn’t slept much over the last few days and had eaten even less. “I may have destroyed the most important thing in my life.”
“I hope you’re referring to Tess and not the beaten up truck parked outside?”
“You know I am,” Logan muttered.
“Just checking.” Dylan took two huge steaks out of the fridge. “When the coffee’s ready bring it outside. If I don’t get these on, we’re never going to eat.”
Dylan walked across the room and opened a set of French doors. The best part of Dylan’s home was the views. A wraparound deck overlooked the Bridger Range. They’d spent hours outside with their feet propped up against the railing and the sun setting over the mountains. Watching what nature did best was the best therapy either of them had ever had.
Logan looked in the fridge. Dylan might be a little slow at unpacking boxes, but he always had plenty of fresh food. Within a few minutes, he’d put together a huge salad.
He made two cups of coffee and put them on a tray with the salad. He opened the door onto the deck and nearly choked on the smoke coming off the barbecue. “You trying to get the fire department out here?”
“Any complaints and I’m eating half your steak.” Dylan glanced at the bowl of salad in Logan’s hands. “You made that out of what’s in my fridge?”
Logan’s mouth tilted into a smile. “I’ve been helping in the café.”
“Looks like it.”
“Do you have any avocado oil? It makes a great dressing with lemon juice and black pepper.”
Dylan flipped the steaks. “You sure you’re feeling all right? You sound like Martha Stewart.”
“Scoff all you like, but the dressing will make the salad taste incredible.”
“I can’t believe I just heard you say that. Come with me.” Dylan turned the barbecue down and walked back inside. “One of my sisters sent me a fancy food basket when I moved in. There’s lots of stuff in there I’ve never used.”
“Where do your sisters live?”
“Two are in Los Angeles and one lives in San Francisco. The Army was a piece of cake after dealing with their issues. Being a big brother isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.” He opened a cupboard door and reached inside. “Here it is. Hel
p yourself to whatever you need. I’ll check the steak.”
Logan started working his way through the bottles. He found avocado oil, red wine vinaigrette and a jar of lemon-garlic salad dressing. He left the avocado oil on the counter and put the rest of the dressings in Dylan’s pantry.
He squeezed the juice of a lemon into a jar, tipped in some oil, then added ground black pepper. After a quick whisk with a fork, he had the tasty dressing ready.
He balanced the dressing on top of a couple of plates with the knives and forks, and headed onto the deck. “You want to eat out here?” he asked Dylan.
“Might as well. It’s good to get some fresh air after being cooped up inside my truck for two hours with your mom and Tess.”
“It couldn’t have been that bad?”
“Not really,” Dylan admitted. “Once Tess got past the fact that she was coming with us she wasn’t so bad. Things got a little heated after they read your story.”
“Where’s Tess now?”
“In her apartment.”
Logan stared at Dylan. He was supposed to have looked after her, not let her fend for herself.
Dylan picked up one of the plates and put a huge steak on it. “Before you get all high and mighty about Tess, you should know that Sally’s with her. She brought an Irish Wolfhound to stand guard. The dog’s built like the Great Wall of China. Nothing’s going to get past him.”
“Are you sure?”
“As sure as I can be from the other side of town. Why don’t you go and see for yourself?”
Logan wasn’t sure that was a good idea. “She hates me.”
“Okay, so maybe I understand her reluctance to talk to you. You almost blew her new life to shreds. Not bad for someone who eats at her café all of the time. Didn’t you say you were her friend as well?”
“I am her friend.”
Dylan snorted.
“Whose side are you on, anyway?”
“Don’t know. I’m still trying to figure out if your idiot tendencies stem from a mental deficiency or plain stupidness.” Dylan passed Logan the second steak. “Put some of that fancy salad on your plate. It might help your brain cells to multiply.”
All of Me (The Bridesmaids Club Book 1) Page 18
