Twelve Shades of Midnight:

by Liliana Hart

  “I’m on my down time. Barring an emergency, the next sixty-two hours are free and clear.”

  She frowned, and he wanted to lean forward, smooth the grooves from her forehead, and assure her that everything was going to be alright. But he didn’t have the right to make such promises, so he sat back; content to simply watch her.

  She hadn’t seemed surprised to awaken and find him still sitting beside her bed.

  He shied away from questioning what that meant, or why he was spending his day off watching over a woman he’d spent the past ten years convincing himself he had no feelings for.

  It had become increasingly difficult to continue lying to himself. He wouldn’t have dropped into the blackest of moods after seeing her in Meechum’s arms if he didn’t have feelings for the woman. Nor would he have panicked upon finding her unconscious on the ground. Then there was the whole coming to Jamesville thing. He’d taken a pay cut, for Christ’s sake, moved half way across the nation, signed up for week’s worth of retraining and recertification—why? Because of a slower pace and a better career path? For a chance to actually have an impact on people’s lives? A chance to make a difference?

  He could have found all those things somewhere else with better pay and better hours. But the most telling detail was that he’d googled her name, and found out she was a practicing veterinarian in Jamesville before he’d even applied for the position.

  Subconsciously, he’d chosen Jamesville as the place to start over for a reason, and the reason was the woman lying in the bed across from him.

  “Logan.” Her eyes were dark and solemn against the white bandage circling her head. “I need to apologize.”

  “Hey.” He scooted the chair closer and took her hand. “There’s nothing to apologize for.”

  “Yes, there is.” She sighed, but those dark, troubled eyes didn’t budge from his face. “I didn’t know about your sister. About what happened to her. I didn’t know that was why you’d switched to law enforcement.”

  Ah…college…she was talking about what had happened between them in college. He stroked his thumb over her palm. “How could you have known? I didn’t tell you.”

  She scoffed in self-derision. “Like I gave you a chance. I’m sorry I was such a bitch. You didn’t deserve that. I should have made an effort to find out why you’d dropped pre-law.”

  His chest tightened at the sincerity in her eyes, and his mind flashed back to what Meechum had told him, to the horror of her childhood perpetuated by men in blue. Men supposed to protect her. There had been good reason behind her freaking out and lack of trust.

  He’d known that her reaction hadn’t been normal, that it had been too extreme. What had happened had been his fault as much as hers. He should have been patient. He should have questioned the reason behind her reaction.

  Instead, he’d pulled away.

  They’d both pulled away.

  “We were young,” he finally said. “Immature. I didn’t look past my own feelings. I didn’t question why you’d reacted the way you did. Instead, I took your reaction at face value and walked away. I’d say we were equally at fault, wouldn’t you?”

  Her forehead furrowed again, and those dark, solemn eyes scanned his face. After a moment she nodded slightly. “I guess.”

  “How did you find out about Josie, anyway?”

  He hadn’t told anyone back in college about what had happened. He hadn’t wanted his college mates questioning whether the official statement was true—whether they actually had gotten Josie back before that bastard had done... things to her. He hadn’t wanted outside curiosity hanging over her. He hadn’t wanted his roommate and friends to treat her differently than they had when she came up with his parents for a visit before her abduction.

  Nor had he told anyone in town since his arrival. Why would he? It had happened years ago.

  “Doug told me.”

  Doug? It took him a moment to place the name. “Meechum?”

  She nodded.

  Logan ran a hand over his head, frowning. He hadn’t told the detective the sordid story. Nor was there any reason for Josie’s kidnapping to be in his personnel file. So the only way the asshole could have learned what had happened was if he’d checked Logan out.

  His jaw tightened. It was time to have a chat with the guy.

  “Anyway. I just wanted you to know I regret the way I acted, both back then and when you came to the clinic yesterday.”

  Her voice and face were uneasy, as though she had picked up on his irritation and thought it was directed at her. Logan shoved his annoyance with Meechum aside, not wanting it to fracture this fragile peace he and Kaylea had established.

  “Why don’t we just put what happened behind us. Move on,” he said quietly. He didn’t add with each other, although he sure as hell was thinking it.

  The tension on her face vanished and she gave him a half-smile. “Yes. Let’s do that.”

  He watched her relax against the pillows and close her eyes. The silence that fell between them was comfortable, reminiscent of their ease with each other back in college. They’d never felt the need to fill the silence with conversation. They’d been perfectly happy just being together, whether there was something to talk about or not.

  He’d never found that sense of ease with anyone else.

  While she napped again he laid his head back and closed his eyes. Where did this new understanding leave them? Certainly not lovers, not even past lovers; they’d only shared the one night, and that had been ten years ago. They’d never forged the intimacy necessary for a relationship.

  And then there was Meechum…When a soft knocked sounded behind him, Logan opened his eyes and straightened. He scowled upon recognizing the lanky, thick-wristed man standing just inside the room.

  Son of a bitch.

  Apparently just thinking about the bastard brought him to your door. He moved like a cat, too. Logan hadn’t heard even a whisper of footsteps. The detective glanced at Kaylea’s still body and closed eyes, and beckoned Logan.

  Still scowling, Logan rose to his feet and followed his nemesis out of the room. Yeah, it was past time to have it out with the asshole—which would have been a hell of a lot easier to do if the bastard would slow down. He was half way down the hall before Logan even made it out the door.

  Logan followed, finally running his quarry down in the clinic’s waiting room next to the mud-brown counter housing the coffee pot. Before he had a chance to jump down the guy’s throat Meechum turned and handed over a Styrofoam cup.

  “Here. Looks like you could use this.” Sharp eyes the gray of wet cement scanned Logan’s face. “You been here all day?”

  At Logan’s nod, a gleam of satisfaction brightened the gray eyes. What-the-fuck was that about?

  “How’s Lea?”

  Something told Logan the detective already knew the answer to that question, but he answered anyway. “Looks like she got off with a concussion. The doc is holding her for observation.”

  The detective nodded, his cropped hair bristling. “Where’s Max?”

  That had been the first question Kaylea had asked on awakening too. Logan gave Meechum the same answer he’d given her. “I left him in the house.”

  Meechum nodded again. “They’re releasing Lea tomorrow morning.”

  Taking a sip of coffee—and yeah, the cagey bastard had been right about that, he did need the caffeine—Logan studied Meechum’s face and waited to see where the discussion was headed.

  “She shouldn’t be alone. You’ve got a couple days free, don’t you?” Meechum asked, catching and holding Logan’s gaze.

  It didn’t take a genius to figure out what the guy was suggesting. Logan shook his head slightly. He didn’t want to crowd Kaylea. Moving in, even to keep an eye on her, was moving too fast too soon.

  “She’s got a sister. Maybe Lina can stay with her for a few days,” Logan said.

  Lowering the coffee cup, he scanned Meechum’s face thoroughly and reassessed what he
’d witnessed in Kaylea’s parking lot the night before. There was no way a guy involved with a woman was going to suggest that another guy spend a couple of unsupervised days and nights with her. Regardless of how it had looked, that hug had obviously not been of the romantic variety.

  Settling a hip against the counter, Meechum cast a slow look around the waiting room and lowered his voice. “I’m not talking about the concussion. I’m talking about the attack on her. I’m talking about you providing protection until we catch this bastard.”

  Logan straightened hard enough to spill the coffee. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “I found the same boot print where Lea took the hit as I found on your porch and in your house.”

  That didn’t surprise Logan. He’d already put two and two together and come up with his vandal. It wasn’t a coincidence that Kaylea had been attacked so close to his house. The perp had probably been hiding in the woods, watching his house, getting a good chuckle out of the commotion his visit had set off. Then Kaylea had come along and surprised him.

  “Kaylea didn’t see him,” Logan pointed out after a pause. “There’s no reason for him to go after her. She’s clear across town, and he doesn’t seem to have a vehicle.”

  Or at least no vehicle had been found during the police canvas of the woods.

  Meechum dipped his head and stared at the floor. Logan could almost see the debate raging inside him. When he finally lifted his head and caught Logan’s eye there was determination on his face.

  “I don’t think the attack on your place was random. I think the perp was looking for something. And if I’m right, if we’re dealing with who I think we’re dealing with, then Kaylea is in danger.”

  Logan went very still. “Who do you think we’re dealing with?”

  “Joseph Armund.”

  The name just hung there, throbbing in the air.

  “Kaylea’s father?” Logan thought that over. According to what Meechum had told him earlier, Armund had vanished. While the deputies investigating had suspected foul play, his body had never been found. But that had been years ago. “Why show up now? It’s been what? Seventeen—”

  He froze.

  Seventeen years.

  Max, Kaylea’s childhood golden had died seventeen years ago, on the same day her father had vanished.

  Yesterday, a golden retriever had planted itself on Logan’s porch that apparently looked and acted so similar to Kaylea’s childhood pet that she’d decided to dig up her poor pooch to see if he was still in his grave—the grave that was across the field from the house Joseph Armund had disappeared from.

  “You can’t be serious.” Logan fought to keep his voice down and his sarcasm in check. “You think her father and her dog have been resurrected and sent home by Spirit Woods?”

  Meechum held his gaze without a hint of embarrassment. “You weren’t around back then. But this dog is an exact replica of Kaylea’s Max. Identical in every respect—from the scar on its nose, to the kink in its tale. It’s the same damn dog.”

  “You can’t know that. You’re going off Kaylea’s memories, and she’s operating under extreme emotion. It’s obvious she loved her Max intensely. Considering her home life, he was probably her lifeline. It’s been seventeen years, for Christ sake. She’s remembering things that weren’t there.”

  “No. She’s not.” Meechum’s tone went flat. Cold. His face stilled. “I bought him for her. I saw him every day—hell, several times a day—for two fucking years. The dog that showed up on your porch is Max.”

  That news brought Logan up short. But he shook his head. “They’re both golden retrievers. The breed itself is genetically similar. Maybe—”

  “No,” Meechum interrupted, his voice certain. “A genetic similarity doesn’t fit. The dog at your house knows all the tricks Kaylea taught her Max seventeen years ago. And if I’m right, if it is the same animal resurrected with its memories intact, then we’ve got a fucking problem. Because Joseph Armund disappeared the same night Max died. And pretty much everyone back then believed whoever killed him had buried his body somewhere in Spirit Woods. So if Spirit Woods has gone into the business of resurrection, then he could be back. And if he’s back, and he remembers what happened, then he’s returning with a massive grudge against his daughters.”

  Chapter Nine

  As the credits rolled past the dark television screen, Kaylea sighed in contentment. Logan was warm and hard beneath her, his big body stretched out on the couch, his heart beating steadily—albeit a mite too fast—against her cheek, his erection pressing into her belly.

  They’d fallen into a state of intimacy during the past week, sinking deeper and faster than was normal because of the constant proximity. She’d initially resisted his insistence on playing guard dog. But he’d refused to argue. He simply moved in and became a six foot, one hundred and eighty pound security blanket.

  To be fair, her resistance when he’d arrived at the hospital to take her home had been mild. She’d been thankful to have another human presence in the apartment with her. She’d been relieved to know someone was watching over her while she slept. At least for the first few days while her head ached like a demon and faceless, formless threats wove their way through her nightmares. She’d been downright grateful for his constant presence in her apartment.

  But at some point during the week it had occurred to her that he was well past his days off, yet he hadn’t left her side. When she’d discovered he’d taken an unspecified leave of absence in order to stay with her, she’d protested. Logan had simply refused to leave.

  He took his watch dog duties seriously.

  They hadn’t talked about whom he was guarding her from, or whether there was any merit to Doug’s suspicions. Nor had he asked about that horrific night seventeen years ago or her role in her father’s disappearance.

  The questions were coming, she knew that. From the moment she’d found out he’d taken a leave of absence she’d known the questions were inevitable. She’d known that Meechum had spilled the beans. If the attack on her had been random, a case of the wrong place at the wrong time, he wouldn’t have made long term plans to provide protection.

  She suspected he’d held off questioning her because of her concussion and aching head, but her reprieve had just expired. She’d been given a clean bill of health earlier in the day by her regular physician, and she’d voiced her intention of returning to her practice the next day. Logan hadn’t argued with her decision, a clear indication he felt she’d healed enough to return to work, which meant she’d healed enough to answer his questions.

  Stretching lazily atop his warm, hard body, she suddenly realized that the bulge against her belly had grown substantially. She resisted the urge to deliberately rub herself against it.

  The sexual tension had been increasing over the past few days. Considering the attraction that had always simmered between them it was not surprising. Their recent proximity to each other had launched that simmer to a full boil. But Logan had been careful to keep the attraction in check.

  Oh, there’d been kissing and cuddling, and plenty of it—but he always pulled back before things progressed past the point of no return. He was probably waiting for the same reason he hadn’t inundated her with questions; he wanted to make sure she was fully healed first.

  But she’d been given a clean bill of health that morning...

  She smiled in anticipation. She was ready to take this—whatever this was—to the next level.

  “Max,” Logan’s voice was deeper than normal, slightly raspy, sexy as hell. “Beer.”

  The dog rose from beside the couch and headed into the kitchen. Toenails clinked against tile. The soft whoosh of the refrigerator door opening drifted into the living room.

  “You realize you’ve perverted my poor dog by teaching him that trick,” Kaylea said, but there was a smile on her face.

  “Hey, it’s a hell of a lot more useful than that other stuff he knows.”

 
Kaylea could hear the smile in his voice. Nor had she failed to notice that he hadn’t made reference to the fact she’d taught the dog that other stuff. She knew he didn’t believe that the golden retrieving his beer was the same dog from her childhood, but that was okay. She would believe for both of them.

  It was enough, for now, that he didn’t belittle her belief in this miracle.

  “You know, he gets it here quicker than Josie or Sarah do,” Logan said, leaning across her to grab the beer Max dropped on the edge of the couch. He set the bottle on the table behind the couch without opening it.

  Kaylea laughed. “You make your baby sisters get your beer?”

  He rested his chin on the top of her head, well away from the bruised patch of scalp that was all that remained of her “knock on the noggin,” as he called it. Thank God she hadn’t needed stitches. At least they hadn’t had to shave the wound.

  “They aren’t so little anymore.”

  She could feel the smile that stretched his mouth. “They’re what, fifteen now?”

  “Just turned sixteen. They’re starting to date.”

  The dread in the statement made Kaylea giggle. “I bet they’re happy you’re not around to interrogate their boyfriends.”

  She felt him shrug.

  “I can run a background check from here. Besides, it’s only a three hour trip. If need be, I can pay the little bastards a visit, flash my badge and gun. That should keep them in check.” His voice was completely serious.

  Kaylea laughed, but the humor soon faded. He was a good big brother. It must have killed him when Josie had been kidnapped; killed him to watch her fight through the aftermath. “How’s Josie doing?”

  “Fine.” There was relief in the word. “Dad and Suzie got her in counseling right away. The fact we got her back so quickly helped. There was no emotional trauma beyond the initial kidnapping. If he’d had time to rape her—” he broke off and a shudder traveled from him, through her. “We were lucky,” he finally said. “It wasn’t until I joined the Bureau that I realized just how lucky.”