Sara's Child

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Sara's Child Page 9

by Susan Elle


  Please, please, please...please let this be a good lead.

  Picking up the phone, Catherine’s hand trembles as she punches in the number for the operator and asks to be put through to the Sheriton Police Station. “Yes, hello,” she replies to the desk officer’s offer of help, “I want to speak to Inspector Harper; it’s about a murder case he was investigating fifteen years ago.” What if he’s retired? What if he’s dead? Catherine was put on hold and looks over at Logan for support while she waits. “Yes I do,” she replies when the Inspector asks if she has some information for him. Oh, thank the gods he’s alive! “It’s about the Sara Colson murder; I’m her daughter, Catherine.” She listens to him tapping computer keys to bring up her mother’s file. Then the line goes silent for a while and she assumes he is refreshing himself on the facts.

  “Christ!” She hears him blow out wearily, and then answers all the questions he asks of her. “So you think this might be a useful lead?” she asks and smiles over at Logan hopefully. “Thank you inspector, you can contact me on that mobile number I just gave you twenty-four-seven.” At last!

  Putting the phone down, Catherine shoots her arms up in the air and shouts, “Yes!”

  Logan swings her up and around in the air while Catherine laughs like a loon. Sliding her down his body Logan hugs her tight then kissed her so gently. He wants nothing more than to love her, to show her some unconditional tenderness.

  She is smiling now, her brilliant blue eyes dancing with excitement. “I need to go home,” she tells him. He looks bemused and disappointed and Catherine laughs. “My phone is dead – I need to get my charger. God knows how many messages are on it after all this time.”

  His smile back in place, Logan gets his car keys to take her immediately. “You can pick up a few more things, if you need them, too.”

  Catherine looks over at him, wondering why he appears to want her to stay. It’s not like he’s even getting sex for his trouble – Logan seems to have gone off the idea. “I could move back home and just come over for a few hours to work on the computer each day,” she offers, not sure how she feels about the idea herself; and is glad when Logan dismisses it out of hand.

  “Not a lot of sense in that,” he tells her, ushering her out of the front door. “We’ll definitely get a lot more done if you’re already here. And besides,” he tickles her side playfully, laughing when she squeals and jumps to one side, “I’ve gotten used to having you around.” Me too.

  When they reach Catherine’s house, where her bedsit awaits her return, Logan looks up at it curiously. “Why haven’t you ever moved out into your own place?”

  “Because this is my own place,” she replies still smiling. “It’s the first home I ever lived in where the only key to my very own space is mine, and I’m hardly there most of the time. It’s really just a place to crash and change.” But it’s my place.

  “Then you don’t miss it?” he asks. “When you’re at mine,” he clarifies when she frowns.

  Catherine’s mind goes into a spin – how is she supposed to answer a loaded question like that? If she says yes, she does then Logan might think she isn’t happy spending time with him, when she is. More than happy! But if she says no, she doesn’t then he might think she is being pushy, maybe even wanting to move in with him. Mmm!

  Before she can answer, Logan laughs. “It isn’t a trick question, Catherine. I just wondered, that’s all. Now, let’s get your things and get back to work.”

  She knows the work he’s referring to and is as keen as he to get back to it.

  Catherine pulls a couple of pairs of tracky bottoms out of her wardrobe and receives a disapproving frown from Logan. “I’m not going to live in them,” she tells him, “and I’ll even wear them with one of those fancy tops you got me to buy; but they are comfortable for round the house.”

  “I’ll hold you to that,” his lovely dark voice isn’t even slightly threatening, and her smile tells him so. “I mean it,” he wags a warning finger at her, “in the house only. You look too lovely in your new clothes to go back to wearing those.” Nice to know, Mr Sayers. Nice to know.

  “Yes boss,” she laughs, and moves to collect her laptop and her phone charger. “Ok, that should do it.” She tells him, picking up her car keys and moving towards the door.

  “What do you need those for?” Logan points to the car keys in her hand, “I can take you anywhere you need to go.”

  But Catherine needs her independence, even if it is only in this small way. “Ok, so what if your office needs you to go in at the same time as mine does? We both still have businesses to run, Logan, which is why I’m also bringing this,” and she holds up the arm that has her laptop tucked under it.

  He knows she is right, but Logan enjoys doing things together. However, he realises that he has to give her more room or risk ruining their relationship. “Ok, you win,” and his smile is firmly back in place. “But I wish you’d invest in a new car; yours looks to be on its last legs.” Hey! Don’t knock the car!

  When they get to the street, Catherine looks at her car affectionately. “I know you’re right,” she admits, her hand trailing lovingly over her old Fiesta’s bonnet, “but this is my first car, and she’s never let me down.” However, she declines to tell him how many times it has been a close thing. Like on the day she met him for the first time at Arthur Kingsley’s office – she had been begging the car to start that morning, and luckily, it had, eventually. “I suppose your first car was a Porsche,” she states crossly. And I bet you didn’t pay for it!

  He is used to her taciturn moods by now and knows she is just being defensive. “Not a chance,” he smiles as she turns to look at him. “My parents weren’t born well off, they had to earn it the same as most others. So, being very pragmatic about the expected bumps in the first year, they bought me an old, two door Maestro. It was brilliant,” he enthuses as she brightens considerably, “my mates and I used to go out cruising just for the sake of it half the time.”

  “Picking up babes,” she frowns, but gives him a crooked smile. “You tart! I bet you were putting yourself about like a regular Don Juan.”

  They both laugh at that.

  Catherine sobers first and tells him what she has been thinking about doing. “What you said made sense,” she tells him agreeably. “It just didn’t occur to me before.”

  Logan nods. “You don’t have to offer him an even partnership,” he explains knowledgeably, “you could keep a controlling interest and offer Ben, say, thirty to forty percent – according to how much you value his worth to the company.”

  “He is a terrific asset,” she confirms. “I’d be hard pushed to replace him.” Who knows what dross is out there. And we’re friends. We work well together.

  “Give it some thought,” he encourages, walking her to the driver’s door of her car, “I’ll follow you back to make sure you don’t break down on the way.” He is smiling teasingly, but Catherine just sticks her tongue out at Logan making him laugh.

  “I think I’ll go into the office and discuss this with Ben now,” she tells him, feeling nervous for some reason.

  “Fine, I’ll see you back at the house later.” He gives her a wave then climbs into his car waiting for Catherine to pull away. He does follow behind her, until they reached the junction where she needs to turn off and he gives her a pip on the horn as he continues on his way.

  Pulling her car into the spot next to Ben’s sports car, Catherine gets out and compares them ruefully. Perhaps Logan is right; she winces at the gleaming exterior of Ben’s sporty Saab and the dull shabbiness of her Fiesta. Well, she thinks, making towards the outer office door, that will have to be a problem for another day.

  It is cooler in the tiny corridor, which leads to the two offices and a small kitchenette, and she can hear Ben hard at work. Yes, she confirms in her own mind, he’s well worth forty percent of anyone’s money, and moves to his open office door.

  “Hard at it, I see.” Ben jumps a mile in the air
at the unexpected sound of her voice. She knows she shouldn’t but she can’t help laughing. “Bloody hell, Ben,” she watches him clutch at his heart and drag in a couple of sharp breathes, “with nerves like that it’s a wonder you haven’t had a heart attack before now!”

  He is smiling now and really pleased to see her. “With a boss like you I’ll no doubt get around to having one; just give it time,” he tells her with a sarcastic grin.

  “Actually, Ben, that’s sort of what I came in to talk to you about,” then draws up his visitors chair to sit opposite him.

  “You’ve come to talk to me about my heart,” he jokes, “how very touching.”

  Deciding not to sit, after all, Catherine gets to her feet and starts to pace. “You and I,” she starts hesitantly, “we’ve worked well together for a long time now.” Ben nods silently. “And, even more than that, we’re friends,” she states, and watches him nod again. “Well...that being the case...I don’t see any reason why we can’t be more than friends,” she offers, and is pleased to see him smile broadly, but before she can finish Ben leaps out of his chair and kisses her. Stunned, Catherine is bereft of speech. What the fuck!

  “You don’t know how happy you’ve just made me,” Ben hugs her again. “I’ve been waiting all this time for the right moment, and here you are beating me to it.” He makes to kiss her again, but Catherine has started to come to her senses. Where the hell did this come from?

  “Ben, stop!” Putting her hands against his chest, she looks at him incredulously. “I had no idea you felt that way.” Catherine takes a step back to emphasise her words. “Did I do something to encourage you...or...or...to make you think I felt the same way?” she stammers. Not again! What did I do this time?

  “But you just said...?” It is Ben’s turn to look confused; and hurt Catherine realises. Oh, Ben...I’m such a fool!

  “I was talking about the business, Ben,” she tries to explain, and watches him sit heavily back down. “I’m so sorry – I was offering you a partnership, only I seem to have made a royal mess of it.” Catherine sits down too, watching her friend of the last six years go from ecstatic joy to crushed hurt in short order. Shit!

  Ben stands up and leaves the office. She hears him pottering about in the kitchen and waits for his return. When he does he looks angry, but has taken the time to make two mugs of tea. “I should have known,” his voice is bitter and sharp as he hands her a mug, “it’s that rich bastard, Sayers, right?”

  Catherine nods and watches the dagger slide home. Ben’s face twists with the pain of her acknowledgement. “I can give you everything that he can,” he tells her proudly. “More, probably, as we have so much in common – I mean, who knows you better than I do? Who understands your love of this business better than me?” He prods a finger hard into his own chest. “I’ve loved you right from the beginning – why do you think I’ve been so willing to put up with your quirks and tantrums?” he tells her more gently, actually managing the ghost of a smile. “I love you, Catherine, and now that you know maybe the idea will grow on you,” he continues hopefully. Oh, Ben.

  “I should go.” Catherine stands abruptly, turning for the door, stopping just short of stepping through it. “I would never hurt you deliberately,” she tells him, and turns moist eyes to look at Ben, “you know that, right?”

  He nods wordlessly, not making any attempt to stop her from leaving.

  She cries all the way to Logan’s house; confused and full of self-loathing, Catherine is devastated. What a bitch! What a god-damned awful bitch!

  Logan finds her; forehead leaning against the steering wheel, still crying her heart out. “Come on,” he encourages, a hand under her arm to help her out of the car, “you look like you could use a stiff drink.”

  Catherine allows him to steer her inside the house and sit her down in the lounge where he pours her a Brandy. “Drink that down,” he orders softly, “it’ll put some colour back in your cheeks.”

  She sips and grimaces then does as she’s been told. “Yuk! Whatever the fuck that is I don’t want any more!” she frowns deeply and shudders.

  “And she’s back,” Logan laughs then moves forward, sitting on his haunches to look at her. “Want to tell me about it?”

  Her head falls forward onto his shoulder and her arms go round his neck. “I’m a terrible, loathsome person,” she declares. “I should be shot at the earliest opportunity.”

  “I’ll kill any man who tries,” Logan declares dramatically, and feels the smile he wanted reluctantly tug at her lips. “Now tell me why you should be shot and maybe I’ll oblige.”

  She sits up then and studies him, even the reluctant smile struggling to stay in place. “Ben’s in love with me,” Catherine blurts out, still amazed at the discovery. “Can you believe it?” she asks wide-eyed and completely innocent.

  “Yes, I can.” He reaches a hand up to stroke the soft waves of her growing hair. “You don’t see yourself as others do,” he tells her. “I watched the other guests when you arrived at Robert’s party – the women were jealous and the men were lusting after you.” His brown eyes grow molten with the memory. “And I was just as bad,” he admits honestly. Her head tilts to one side, and Catherine has to wonder just how stupid she really is – yet again, she’d had no idea. “Then when I took you home and had the privilege of undressing you and putting you to bed, I fell deeply, madly in lust with you.” He laughs at himself and Catherine punches his shoulder none too gently. Huh!

  “Yeah, right,” she scorns, rolling her eyes at him, “that’s why you haven’t touched me since we got back from Lakelands.” Then she blushes as she realises what she has said. Nice one! Way to go, Catherine!

  “You silly goose.” He puts a hand to her hot cheeks and studies her. “I haven’t touched you because we’ve been busy and you’ve been upset – understandably so,” he tells her. Then decides it’s a good time to come completely clean. “Catherine, I had an idea about Ben,” Logan confesses, and when she straightens in surprise he has to strengthen his resolve to be honest no matter what it costs him. “I didn’t expect what happened today, but I did think it would happen sooner or later.”

  Her eyes widen as Catherine shakes her head and stares at him. “I really don’t get it – I’ve worked with the man closely over the last six years and didn’t get an inkling – you’ve known him for all of five bloody minutes and his hearts an open book. What the fuck...?” she asks the heavens, her hands lifting palms up and her eyes going up to look at the ceiling. Give me a clue here!

  “I think that was the problem,” he consoles her; “you were too close to see what was going on. No doubt if you had been in my shoes you would have come to the same conclusion.” I wouldn’t bet on it! Shit!

  “So why didn’t you give me a heads up?” she asks, still feeling annoyed, and more than a little stupid. “It might have helped going in if I’d known what I was walking in to,” she chides.

  Logan looks at the floor for a long moment, and then lets it all pour out. “I didn’t tell you because I wanted to give Ben his chance.” When Catherine makes to comment, Logan holds up a staying hand. “Just listen to me, a minute,” he asks getting to his feet and walking to stand by the fireplace. “I’m thirty six and you’re twenty five – ok, nearly twenty six,” he concedes when again she makes to interrupt. “That still makes me ten years older than you, and you deserve better,” he finishes quietly, turning to stare into the empty grate, his insides feeling just as dead as the ashes he sees there, at the thought of living without her.

  “I know I’m stupid about this relationship lark,” she stands angrily, “but are you really telling me that I’m not allowed to love you because you happen to be older than I am? What a crock of shit!” Jesus and I thought I was thick!

  It is music to his ears and his heart barely dares to hope. “Be very careful how you answer this next question,” he tells Catherine softly, moving to stand in front of her. “Did you just say that you love me?” His heart is bea
ting wildly then explodes with joy when she nods shyly. “You wonderful woman,” he laughs; swinging her round until she laughingly begs him to stop. Logan slides her down his body then holds her to him as if he would never let her go. “I love you, Catherine Colson,” he declares earnestly, quietly, “and I’ll never let anyone hurt you again for as long as we live.” Bliss. Pure bliss.

  Reaching her arms up she pulls his head down to taste his lips; something she has been dying to do properly for what seems the longest time. They move into the kiss, deepening it as their love flows freely between them for the first time.

  “I want you desperately, Catherine,” Logan tells her, his need for her so strong he has to fight it down, “let me take you to bed?” Touché!

  They both smile, remembering when Catherine uttered that same invitation to him at Lakelands. She nods again, her smile teasing, “I promise not to faint this time.”

  He scoops her up in to his arms, not a hint of strain in his muscular body as he carries her up the stairs to his bedroom. Logan lowers her to her feet and regards Catherine soberly. “I’m going to repeat what I said to you at Lakelands,” he begins, tracing a gentle finger down her cheek, “if you want me to stop, at any time, I will.” Don’t you dare!

  Catherine doesn’t doubt that he means it, but nothing short of an earthquake will stop her from having him now. “Not a chance,” she growls, her needs already making themselves known. Lifting her dress over her head, Catherine throws it on the floor and stands in just her underwear longing for that first touch; but first she has to get them on an even footing, and tugs at the buttons of his shirt with unsteady hands.

  Logan actually laughs, then takes pity and helps her. “You’ll have to get more practice,” he jiggles his eyebrows suggestively after throwing his shirt down on top of her dress on the floor.

  However, Catherine is more interested in the broad expanse of chest he’s bared for her, and moving to him places one palm against his racing heart, her other at the back of his neck to lower his head.

 

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