“At any rate,” Vinny was going on, “Sinclair said he’d discovered Bob was shorting the shipments.”
“Which means what, exactly?” Ali asked.
“Which means, exactly, that Sinclair was paying for more product than was getting to his customers.”
“But wouldn’t he have caught on to that right away?”
“Obviously he didn’t.”
Ali eyed Vinny doubtfully. “Nick Sinclair didn’t strike me as a dummy.”
“No, but there are ways of shorting that are hard to pick up on. And when people are buying from the mob, it takes a lot to make them complain. So by the time Sinclair caught on, Bob was into him for big, big bucks. And that’s when Bob decided to go check out his business prospect in Nicaragua.”
“Because Sinclair wanted his money back and Bob didn’t have it,” Ali concluded. “But five million dollars? You said you handed over every cent of the insurance money, so you’re saying Bob cheated the mob out of five million dollars?”
“Actually, according to Sinclair it was more than that. But we settled on five because it was what the policy was worth. The way he looked at things, he was giving me a break—not making me sell the company to come up with the rest.”
“He’s a real prince,” Logan muttered.
“And that’s why he wants Bob dead?” Ali asked. “Because he didn’t get all his money back? That is why he wants to find Bob, isn’t it? To kill him?”
“Yeah,” Vinny said, “but it’s not really because of the money anymore. It’s just a matter of principle now. Guys like Sinclair don’t take kindly to being cheated. Or lied to. Which is more stuff I’d never admit saying.”
Logan looked anxiously at Ali. Her eyes were wide with fear, and she was clearly wondering the same thing he was. How unkindly would Sinclair take it if he learned she’d lied to him?
* * *
LOGAN FOLLOWED ALI back from the restaurant and pulled into her driveway behind her. He’d suggested grabbing a late lunch while they were out, but it had been a bad idea. Neither of them had felt like eating. All they’d done was talk in circles about the hour they’d spent with Vinny.
The bottom line, of course, was that it hadn’t gotten them anywhere. Vinny knew nothing—unless he’d been putting on a great performance. And that was a possibility they had to keep in mind, even if it seemed a remote one. After all, he’d taken quite a beating. On the other hand, wouldn’t most guys take a beating if the stakes were five million bucks?
For all they knew, Vinny might even have some deal going with Sinclair. Then, both the beating and that bug in his phone would have been only for show. No, they hadn’t learned a damned thing for sure. Climbing out of his Jeep, Logan silently trailed Ali into the house.
“I’ll make some coffee,” she murmured, hanging up her coat.
He nodded, tossed his jacket on the coat tree, then followed her down the hall.
When she reached the kitchen doorway her body tensed. Over her shoulder, he could see the message light was flashing on her machine.
She hurried across and pushed the playback button. The first message was from Nancy McGuire, saying she hoped Ali was holding up all right and asking her to call back with news on what was happening. The second was from a woman who identified herself as Celeste and wanted to know what time Ali would like her to come for Christmas dinner.
“Who’s Celeste?” he asked as the woman began a story about a shopping trip to the Eaton Centre.
“Bob’s mother,” Ali said.
That took him by surprise and it must have showed, because Ali launched into an explanation.
“She’s a sweet lady. She just happened to have a rotten son, and I just happened to marry him. But Robbie’s her only grandchild so...well, it never seemed right to cut her off just because of Bob. And she has no other family to be with on Christmas Day, so I thought...but, oh, Lord, Logan, what do I do now? Tell her what’s happening? Tell her that Bob really isn’t dead? She’d be frantic with worry about Robbie, but...”
“Let’s talk about it later,” Logan said as Celeste finished the story about her shopping and the machine beeped to its final message.
It was a combined one from his mother and Cody, wanting to know what time Logan was coming to pick Cody up, and inviting him to have dinner there.
When Cody ended with a, “Bye, Daddy, bye, Ms. Weyden,” Ali pushed Rewind and glanced at Logan, disappointment written across her face. “When I saw the message light flashing I thought maybe...silly, eh? I know I won’t hear from Robbie again until the morning.”
She turned back to the counter and busied herself with the coffee, while Logan stood trying to decide when he was going to pick Cody up. The idea of Nick Sinclair and Chico Gonzalez keeping an eye on Ali was enough to make his blood run cold, yet there wasn’t a damned thing he could do about it. What he could do, though, was make sure Cody wasn’t within ten miles of the neighborhood while those characters were hanging around.
He knew worrying along that line wasn’t rational. There was no reason for them to have the slightest interest in Cody. Even so, he’d feel better knowing someone was watching his son every minute, and he couldn’t be doing that and helping Ali at the same time.
So, all in all, the smartest thing would be to have his parents keep Cody for a while longer. But how would Cody feel about not coming home and getting back into his normal routine? Logan watched Ali pour the coffee, wishing he’d been taking some of her psychology courses with her.
“Let’s sit in the living room,” she suggested, handing him one of the mugs. “In here, I can’t seem to keep my eyes off the phone.”
He followed her down the hall again and sank onto the couch beside her, asking, “What do you think I should do about Cody? You figure he’d be upset if I suggested leaving him at my folks for another day or two or... Ali?” he murmured, realizing tears were streaming down her face. “Ali?” Taking her coffee, he set both mugs on the end table, then turned back to her.
When Logan put his arm around her shoulder, Ali curled into him, pressing her face against his chest. She almost never cried, but since yesterday she’d felt within seconds of tears every single minute.
His holding her helped, though. His touch reminded her she wasn’t facing this alone, and the strong warmth of his body felt reassuring against hers. She took a few deep breaths, trying her hardest to regain control.
“What?” he murmured against her hair. “What? Is it that we didn’t learn anything from Vinny?”
“Partly. And partly...oh, Logan, when Cody asked about coming home, you can just decide when...but this morning, when Robbie asked me that...he wanted me to come and get him right then, but I couldn’t and...and what if he never comes home? What if...” Her tears won out again, and she buried her face more tightly into Logan’s sweater.
“Don’t,” he whispered. “Don’t do this to yourself. We’ll get him back.”
“Will we?” she managed to say, looking at him once more. “How? Tell me how, because right now I just can’t make myself believe we really will.”
He wiped away her tears, then gently kissed her forehead, murmuring, “You can’t make yourself believe it right now because you’re too wound up to think straight. That’s all it is. So we’re going to take a little time out. We’re not going to talk about it any more for a while. Okay?” When she nodded, he kissed her forehead again. “Good. Then, later, we’ll come back at it fresh. Figure out where to go from here. We’re a good team, Ali. And we’re going to make everything turn out fine.”
She bit her bottom lip, determined not to cry anymore. But if she tried to say even one word...
Logan rested his fingers beneath her chin, tilting her face up a little, and she gazed at him, her eyes swimming with the tears she was holding back.
“Oh, Ali,” he murmured, “I’d give anything to make it better for you right this minute.”
“You are,” she whispered. “You are making it better. Logan, if it wasn�
�t for you I don’t know what I’d do.”
He held her gaze for a moment longer, then leaned closer and kissed her.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and melted against him. His lips were warm and firm against hers, and his kiss made her feel as if, just possibly, he was right. They were a good team. So maybe, between the two of them, they would make everything turn out fine.
“What?” she asked when he stopped kissing her.
“I...look,” he murmured, his breath fanning her mouth with warmth, “I guess I couldn’t have picked a worse time to do that, could I? I’m sorry if—”
“Don’t be. You couldn’t have picked a better time. It feels good to be held, Logan. I don’t feel so afraid in your arms...or so helpless. Your timing was perfect...and so was what you were doing.” She tangled her fingers in his hair and drew his lips back to hers.
Chapter Eight
Ali shrugged into her coat and walked Logan out to the driveway, unable to stop at the front door and say goodbye. Something had clearly gone haywire with her self-control, so when they reached his Jeep she shoved her hands into her pockets to keep from touching him.
Impossible as it seemed, when the situation with Robbie already had her in a state of emotional overload, kissing Logan had released a brand-new flood of emotions. The smoldering attraction she’d developed for him had suddenly burst into flames. And its happening now had taken her completely by surprise.
“You won’t change your mind?” he asked, bringing her back to the moment. “My mother’s a great cook, and getting away from here for a few hours would do you good.”
“No. Thank her for inviting me, but I’d rather be home. Just in case.”
“Well, you never know. Robbie’s a resourceful little guy.”
She pushed her hands even more deeply into her pockets. Logan’s thoughts were so closely in tune with hers it was eerie. She could talk in half sentences and he still knew what she meant, even when she was thinking about crazy things like Robbie getting away from whoever had him and trying to reach her.
“You’re sure you’ll be okay, though?” Logan murmured, resting his hand against her cheek.
Its reassuring warmth made her wish even more that he didn’t have to go.
“I really hate to leave you here alone,” he was saying. “Maybe I should phone them back and—”
“No, you can’t explain things to Cody over the phone. You’ve got to be sure he understands.”
“Yeah...yeah, you’re right.” Logan glanced down the street to his own house. “I don’t really need to take any of his things. My mother keeps some basics up there. But maybe I’d better feed Sammy before I go. It’ll only—”
“No, just get going. The traffic will already be heavy, so I’ll feed him.”
“Sure you don’t mind?”
“Mind?” If her sense of humor had been functioning the questions would have made her laugh out loud. “After all you’ve been doing for me, you think I’d mind feeding your cat?”
He grinned. “Actually, I was thinking how evil-tempered he can be—especially when you try to pawn off dry food on him. But there’s a half full can of the good stuff in the fridge someplace. So...you want me to stop by when I get home? Just check in with you?”
“If my lights are on. I didn’t sleep last night, so I’m not going to stay up late.”
“Well, if I don’t see you tonight, I’ll come over first thing in the morning. And as soon as you’ve heard from Robbie, we’ll decide on our next move.”
Logan leaned closer and brushed her lips with a gentle kiss. Then he slid into the driver’s seat, slammed the door and backed out onto the street.
She stood watching the Cherokee until it disappeared, thinking that her timing had gone every bit as haywire as her self-control. What had happened with Logan...well, what had happened was that her hormones had ganged up on her while she’d been too busy worrying to notice. And her brain had been too preoccupied to remind her that he’d be gone in a few weeks.
Instead of watching his car heading for Don Mills, she’d be watching his plane take off for Los Angeles. So, after all the time she’d gone along denying she felt anything but friendship for him, why on earth had she let this happen now? Starting for his house, she told herself she hadn’t let it happen. It just had. And she didn’t regret it. Being in his arms had given her more comfort than she could have hoped for.
From here on in, though, she had to remember things were about to come to an abrupt end between them. And only a fool would get in any deeper with a man who already had one foot out the door. As her mother had always said, “Never start something if you know you won’t be able to finish it.”
Her mother, she reflected, turning into Logan’s yard, had been a smart lady. When she glanced at the house, she spotted Sammy’s little gray face in the living room window. He was peering eagerly at her from his perch on the back of the couch, so she dug her keys out of her pocket and hurried up the steps. Since she’d moved here, she and Logan had done almost all of each other’s baby-sitting. So they’d long ago exchanged house keys and...
The thoughts flowing from that one brought a lump to her throat. She’d give anything in the world to open the door and hear Robbie and Cody demanding cookies and whooping with laughter. But the only sound that greeted her was Sammy’s wailing. He’d scurried into the front hall and was already three heartrending yowls into his dying-of-starvation monologue.
Logan described him as a highly verbal cat, but she suspected that if they could translate those yowls into English they’d discover he was actually just a whiner. She followed him into the kitchen, found the opened can of food and spooned what was left into his bowl. Then, just as she was rinsing the can for the recycling box, there was a knock at the front door.
Her heart anxiously skipped a beat. This morning, her unexpected visitors had been bad, bad news. Reminding herself she was in Logan’s house, that whoever had knocked was his visitor, she headed into the hall.
Like her own front door, the top half of Logan’s was glass. Standing on the other side of it was a woman—about thirty, extremely attractive, perfectly made up, and dressed to kill in a fitted burgundy suede coat. When she saw Ali, a puzzled look flickered across her face. Then she smiled.
“Yes?” Ali opened the door a few inches.
“Is Logan home?”
“No, I’m afraid he’s not.”
“Cody, then? Are you baby-sitting?”
Ali shook her head. “No, I’m sorry, there’s no one in right now.”
“Oh? Then who are you?” The woman’s tone had suddenly become less friendly, almost making Ali wish she hadn’t answered the door.
“I’m a neighbor,” she offered.
“Oh, is that all.” The smile reappeared. “Well, are they going to be long? Maybe I should come in and wait.”
“No, it would be a long wait. Logan only left a few minutes ago and he won’t be back until after dinner, so—”
“Rats! I guess I should have called ahead, but I wanted to surprise them. I’ll just come in long enough to phone for a taxi, then. I let mine go.”
The woman pushed the door open farther and walked in past Ali, exclaiming, “Lord, he’s still got that obnoxious cat! I don’t believe it. Sammy, any normal man would have drowned you by now.”
Ali glanced back along the hall. Sammy was standing outside the kitchen doorway watching them. His yellow eyes were narrowed and he was holding his tail straight up and swishing it back and forth. According to Logan, that indicated anger, so the momentary surge of affection she felt for the cat made no sense.
She turned curiously back to the woman. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know who you are—to tell Logan.”
“Oh, I’m Loretta.”
“Loretta?”
“Yes...Loretta Carlisle...Logan’s wife.”
* * *
LOGAN’S MOTHER GAVE HIM a farewell kiss, then disappeared to load the dishwasher. Cody, though, wasn’t quite
ready to see his father leave.
“And you’ll phone me in the morning,” he said, wrapping his arms even more tightly around Logan’s neck.
“I promise.”
“And I won’t get in trouble ‘cuz I’m not at school.”
“No, I’ll call your teacher and explain.”
“And Robbie’s gonna be home soon.”
“I promise,” Logan said again. It was a promise he intended to do everything in his power to keep, but what would happen if...?
He tried to force his mind from that question.
“Before Christmas for sure,” Cody said.
“Absolutely.”
“And me, too. I’ll just be staying with Grandma and Grandpa another day or two.”
“I thought you liked it here,” Logan’s father said, holding out his arms to take Cody.
Logan breathed a sigh of relief. He’d been starting to have visions of still being trapped in his parents’ front hall come midnight.
“I do like it here,” Cody assured his grandfather. He climbed, monkeylike, from Logan’s arms into his father’s. “I like it here a lot, Grandpa. And we’ll come back for Christmas dinner, ‘member? But there’s more presents for me at home than here. I counted. So, I’m coming home as soon as your busys are finished, right, Dad?”
“Your what?” Logan’s father asked.
“My busys, Cody calls them,” Logan said. “You know. Things that come up now and then. Things that keep me too busy to have enough time for him. Like manuscript deadlines.”
“Ahh...” His father gave him a worried look that wasn’t at all tough to decipher.
It said that manuscript deadlines and chasing around after kidnappers were two entirely different things, and that his parents weren’t the least bit impressed with what he’d gotten himself involved in. When they’d cornered him, out of Cody’s hearing, he’d tried to get away with as little detail as possible about why he didn’t want Cody at home. But they’d managed to drag enough out of him to become thoroughly alarmed.
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