Logan fixed himself a plate and settled next to Sam who was delightfully devouring the BBQ beef and potato salad. He explained about his new project for thirty minutes, answering questions from Ian and his grandmother.
“Tom? You’re awfully quiet,” Millicent nudged him, shaking the paper and meeting the eyes she was extremely familiar with. “What’s wrong?”
Tom turned his attention to Logan, and then to Sam. One aged eyebrow rose slowly. The look on his face had Millicent moving closer to him, eyes scanning the page of the paper he was reading. She sat down slowly, staring from Logan to Sam for a long minute.
“When did you get married?” Millicent looked at Sam expectantly.
Sam decided she had luck on her side and a fork in her mouth. Her finger was held up but Logan stepped into the conversation.
“Friday morning,” he had seen the looks between the pair. “What’s going on?”
His grand father slowly turned the paper around.
“Missing heiress sparks search in Pacific Northwest.”
Chapter Six
Sam swallowed and began choking, her portrait staring back at her from the front page of the society page. Logan stared from the front page to the wide, frantic green eyes. Her palm was flapping as she downed a full glass of water.
“I…I am not…”
“Missing?” Logan completed the sentence for her, his message telegraphed in his eyes. “I noticed, Sam…breathe…let me read that, Gramps,” he took the paper. So much for a relaxing Sunday. Logan read it aloud.
“A tip to the Pierce County sheriff’s office led to the discovery of the abandoned vehicle owned by Samantha Elliott, heiress and only daughter to Elizabeth and Morgan Elliott. A spokesperson for the department said they are co-operating with the King County office because that is where her home is located. Her family was unaware that there was anything troubling the thirty-four year old heiress and had just seen her several days before. A spokesperson for the family says the family is not at all concerned. ‘It is not unusual for Samantha to go off and do her own thing. She is not a child and has proven decidedly that she is quite capable of taking care of herself in any given situation.”
“Samantha Elliott is known for her active support of lower income level neighborhoods, working with local businesses and leaders to slowly revamp and revive them in an effort to enrich their lives and bring life to the areas in the form of new business, increased employment and improved schools.
Samantha Elliott was recently seen about the town of Seattle with Senate potential, Carson Strang. Although those closest to Miss Elliott deny there is any connection at all given her libertarian views and his extremely conservative stance, Carson Strang insists there is a romantic involvement, possibly even an engagement.”
Logan patted Sam on the back when the coughing began again. “Breathe, Sam…” he repeated firmly.
“At the moment, law officials will only say they are investigating her disappearance. They have not moved her vehicle because according to law enforcement, she is not illegally parked and there are no signs of foul play. If you have any information regarding this or any other crime in the area, please call…”
Logan tossed the paper to the table, two hands up and on his face, fingers spearing the dark hair and raking it back to his neck.
“I am not missing,” Sam hissed. “I am not involved with that moron Strang and I am…I am…” Two palms went flying in the air, a long string of words flying free.
Logan blinked, stunned.
Anya stared and the grandparents looked baffled. She stopped as abruptly as she began. “I’m sorry. Excuse me,” Sam turned and walked back toward the house where she had left her clothing.
“I did not know Sam spoke Croatian,” Anya said carefully, looking at Logan with a raised dark eyebrow.
“Yeah, that makes two of us. Excuse me for a bit,” Logan took off at a run after Sam.
“What’d she say?” Ian asked cautiously.
“That she just wanted a quiet Sunday with her husband. To swim and relax and was that too much to ask?” Anya paraphrased the content. “And she called the people who tipped off the police idiots….or close to idiots, anyway.”
Logan sat on the wall outside his brother’s house, watching the long legged redhead pace the grounds. Her ponytail flipped like a very angry cat’s tail as she whipped around.
“Sam…trying to force everything back will only give you a headache,” Logan said quietly.
“Why isn’t my car at the casino?” She walked to stand in front of him. “I’m sorry…about…I don’t know where those words came from,” she sighed.
“You spent a little time in Croatia working with teams to help the kids of the ethnic cleansing,” Logan recited from the information Tony had forwarded to him. “We can go get your car,” Logan had an idea where it was parked because of the streets in the area and where he found her on the beach. “You have the keys in your pack. Let’s go finish eating and relaxing…we have time.” But he stood up and took the palm she offered and tugged her into his arms.
Sam sighed, gratefully sinking against him, her arms around his waist.
“I really hate people mucking about with my life,” she murmured.
“Hmmm…I recently met the wife of a friend, Chloe…she said that exact thing.” Logan turned them and began slowly walking.
“Brilliant woman.”
“She’s a redhead.”
“Well, that accounts for it then,” Sam said with a chuckle.
“We will deal with it, Sam,” Logan promised tonelessly.
“So all that stuff in the paper…really me, huh?”
“Really you,” he agreed, stopping them several feet away from the concerned family. His broad shoulders and body blocked his palms moving to frame her face, thumbs stroking over the slight pout. “Sam, we met when neither one of us knew a thing about the other and spent several days just being us. Nothing in the papers about either one of us matters.”
Logan felt his insides clutch when the bright green eyes became floating pools. Sam offered a watery smile that faded when his mouth lowered to caress hers, the teasing feel of his beard and moustache making her take a step closer. Everything around them vanished for a long minute, Sam broke off the kiss, laying her head on his shoulder.
“That was nice,” she breathed softly.
“Hey, I know what relaxes my girl,” Logan winked at her, turning them and striding back under the brunch canopy.
“Are you alright, my dear?” Millicent came around the large round table, her hands up and around Sam with a hug. “Never show the media that they’ve rattled you, Samantha. You’re far stronger than that if you’ve married my grandson,” she teased, glad there was a smile on the beautiful face.
“I am better, thank you. I didn’t mean to upset anyone,” Sam took the chair next to Logan. “I just get so tired of people mucking about with my life.”
“So what’s the next step?” Ian was slowly munching on the sandwich he’d made.
Logan had his phone out, one dark brow raised. “Now we get the police uninvolved,” he said dryly. “And the safest place would be here.”
“Of course,” Millicent looked approvingly at her grandson. “Where Samantha is safely surrounded by her loving family.”
“Detective Martinez, please, it’s regarding the Samantha Elliott case.”
“Please hold while I patch you through,” came the tin voice of the operator on the other end of the line.
Sam wandered to the food table, adding several hard boiled eggs and some cheese on the plate. She listened to the no-nonsense voice that seemed to be a natural part of Logan.
“Martinez here.”
“Detective, my name is Logan Sheffield. If it would be possible, I’d like someone to come to our home so we can straighten out this missing heiress thing in the paper this morning.”
“What is your involvement with Miss Elliott, Mr. Sheffield?”
“I happen to be h
er husband,” Logan answered flatly. “Samantha is here, at the family house with us.”
“What’s the address?” Martinez wrote down the information. “I’ll be there within the hour.”
“He’ll be here in about an hour,” Logan set his phone on the table and went in search of more food and something to drink.
“I’m going to get dressed,” Sam announced, popping the last bit of cheese into her mouth. “Be right back.”
“Who do you believe would tell the police that she was missing, Logan?” Millicent asked, picking delicately at her plate.
“If I had to make a wild guess…Strang,” Logan said flatly. “It’s the why that doesn’t have an answer yet.”
“But you will find the answer,” his grandmother said confidently, the expression on her grandson’s face her answer. He would take care of Samantha, she never doubted that.
“I do not understand why this man would be…” Anya looked from one to the other, mumbling to herself for a few seconds. “Why would he know where Sam parked her car unless he had followed her?”
Logan raised two brows. “Very good question, Anya. His persistence in pursuing Sam makes no sense, either. She’s exceptionally altruistic and he’s as far from that as can be,” he shook his head. “I’m going to change, too. I’d rather not look like a beach bum while trying to correct the police.”
Thirty minutes later, Sam sat across the small table from Mark with her hand full of cards. Now and then a GO FISH would be uttered until Mark laid down his cards and shook his head. The adults were aware of the approach of the woman who ran the kitchen.
“Thornton has admitted a Detective Martinez for you, Mr. Sheffield,” she brought a younger woman and they began clearing away the brunch. “Will you be joining us for dinner, Mr. Sheffield?”
“Two extra, Trinity, please,” Logan answered, dropping the business section of the paper back to the pile.
Mark gathered his cards and wandered toward the house with Trinity, chattering with the part time nanny about a new game.
Detective Martinez was an older man in his mid forties, sleeves rolled to his elbows and an officer at his side. He took a slow assessment of the gathered adults, from the grandparents to the two younger couples. One of them the redhead they had been searching for.
Logan stepped forward, taking the control that came naturally to him.
“Detective Martinez…Logan Sheffield,” he turned slightly. “My grandparents, Millicent and Tom Trent. My brother, Dr. Ian Sheffield and his fiancée, Anya Miller and last, my wife, Samantha Elliott Sheffield.”
He waited for the introductions to fade, gesturing to one of the chairs before moving to sit next to Sam. She had brought her pack out, her bright orange wallet setting on the table.
“Who told you I was missing?” Sam began the conversation, feeling since it was all about her, this was her right.
“We received a tip…”
“Does the tip have a name?” Sam watched the man look a little uncomfortable. “Let me suggest a name, Detective…how about Carson Strang?” She saw the answer on his face. “Alright…question number two…just how did Carson Strang know where I parked my car?”
“Mr. Strang said he was driving by and recognized your vehicle. He said he was quite familiar with you and your vehicle and was very concerned when he couldn’t locate you. Evidently you weren’t answering your cell phone.”
“Hmm…on a honeymoon with my husband…yeah, answering calls would be high on my priority list,” Sam said with a chuckle. “I have my phone turned off. That’s not illegal. We didn’t even pick up a paper until this morning, well this afternoon at brunch…I had no idea people were looking for me.”
“Where have you been, Miss Elliott?”
“Have I committed a crime?” Sam returned, leaning slightly forward.
Logan decided he’d just sit back and watch. Sam was not at all intimidated. Not by him and definitely not by the police, especially since she knew she hadn’t done anything wrong.
“People have been searching for you, Miss Elliott. It’s a reasonable question.”
“I…never asked anyone to search for me. Did you speak to my parents?”
“Your parents,” the detective paused slightly. “Were unconcerned and less than co-operative.”
“I’m glad I don’t have the kind of parents that are easy to frighten with a sensational story that is totally false,” Sam declared honestly.
“Miss Elliott, I need to clear up this case and to do that, I need answers.”
“My name is now Samantha Sheffield,” she said firmly. “The answer is simple, detective. I’m not missing. I was never missing. Here is my identification to verify that I am me. I do not know why Strang chose to find my car or why he decided to involve the police. You really have to ask him those questions. But you can put it on record that if he continues to follow me, I will be filing a complaint and a restraining order to cease and desist.”
“When were you married, Miss…Mrs. Sheffield?”
“Exactly how is that relevant?” Logan asked quietly.
“Detective, I am over eighteen. I am not in need of a keeper and have been taking care of myself for a very long time,” Sam said, her head tilted curiously.
“A report was filed that you were missing, I have to account for your movements.”
“A report filed by, in my opinion, a stranger who knows nothing about me or my habits or abilities,” Sam said simply. “I’m sure it’s nothing personal, Detective. But I don’t understand the procedure where a report can just be called in that a person is missing, by another person who isn’t even related to me by friendship, and it’s taken as gospel without any evidence to the fact. Was my car broken into?”
“No, ma’am.”
“And there was no evidence that any kind of crime at all was committed? That I was abducted or assaulted?”
The detective sighed heavily. “No, ma’am.”
“So just because a senate hopeful files a semi-hysterical report that I am among the missing, you are ordered to drop all your other work and focus on finding me? I’d much rather you focus on the missing children in the area,” Sam waved a palm. “I’m sorry, detective. I know you are only following the orders of someone who felt I was more important than a missing five year old. Believe me, I’d really rather have that person here answering my questions.”
“That makes two of us, Mrs. Sheffield,” Detective Martinez admitted with a chuckle.
“We were married. We went for a drive, parked the car and walked on the beach. Then the stupid storm hit and we got drenched,” she said with a soft laugh. “We didn’t go back to the car, but ran for the resort Logan is building, where we have the use of the honeymoon suite.”
“Yesterday morning we went for breakfast and coffee…did a little shopping at the mall,” Logan recalled with a crooked grin. “Bought some food and returned to the hotel in time to be caught in the power outage.”
“No, I have not checked my email. No, I have not bothered with my phone messages or even my phone, for that matter. I live on my own and I’m pretty self reliant,” Sam said with a shrug. “I hope that clears up things for you and I really am sorry you were forced to waste your time, Detective. I don’t think I’m guilty of anything other than wanting to be alone with my husband for awhile.”
“I’m just following orders, Mrs. Sheffield,” he stood up and offered his palm to them both. “Thank you for your time and congratulations.”
Chapter Seven
“You know the media is going to be all over you,” Ian said when he was gone.
Sam groaned and let her head bump on the table.
“The Forest Wing is empty, Logan,” Ian said thoughtfully, one brow raised.
“Forest Wing?” Sam looked from one to the other.
“Anya and I have what’s called the Seaside Wing, because…it’s closest to the Sound,” Ian explained. “We kind of named them when we were kids. Our sister, Eliose, used to live in
the wing at the other end of the crescent, further from the Sound and mostly on a really nice green belt, hence, the Forest Wing. It’s two bedroom, has a nice big solarium…except that the bedroom is in a loft kind of thing, it’s a lot like our end.”
“It’s empty, huh?” Logan’s palm was up, absently smoothing down his goatee. “It would be more entertaining than staying at the hotel, Sam. There’s a whole big storage room filled with furniture to choose from or we can buy what we want.”
“You would live here?” Anya looked from one to the other excitedly.
Ian cracked a crooked grin at his grandmother. “I don’t know, Logan…not sure the old folks could handle the sudden influx of kids again…”
“You just hush, young man,” Millicent chuckled.
“It would be nice,” Sam admitted reluctantly. “I like the suite…but I’m not sure it’ll be so much fun once the workers return tomorrow morning.”
“I have several things to do in the morning, but we could bring our suitcases out tomorrow afternoon,” Logan leaned his head back in thought. “It’s not that long a drive and the privacy would be a lot more secure here.”
“Dinner at the main house would be much more entertaining,” Tom winked at his wife. “Excuse us…you decide and let Trinity know, Logan. She’ll have all the dust covers and everything cleaned up for you in no time. We’ll see you at dinner?”
“Yeah, we’ll be here for dinner, Gram,” Logan stood up and hugged her warmly. “I think I’ll go talk to Trinity now,” he walked slowly with his grandparents back to the main house.
“I am so happy to see you staying here,” Anya said with a smile. “I must work in the morning, but I can help you in the afternoon, Sam.”
“You’re working tomorrow?” Ian frowned. “Your shoulder…”
WindSwept Narrows: # 1 Samantha Elliott Page 6
