Silent Night Standoff

by Susan Sleeman

  “Don’t worry so much.” Skyler made sure to bury any longing for Logan she felt deep inside, where it couldn’t surface again.

  “I can’t help it. You’re giving me reason to worry.”

  “No need. I know how to protect my heart.” Skyler hoped if she kept saying the words that she’d soon start to believe they were true.

  * * *

  Logan held the door for Skyler to enter the theatrical makeup store. Catering to local movie production companies, Logan expected a more polished interior, but it wasn’t much more than a hole in the wall. Floor-to-ceiling shelves holding brightly colored containers filled two walls. An antique barber’s chair sat at the back near a lighted mirror and table littered with cosmetic samples.

  A woman dressed in a vibrant rainbow of colors with a large snake tattoo circling her neck stood behind a counter pricing tubes of makeup. She eyed Logan skeptically. “Can I help you?”

  Wagner had said the owner was expecting them, but this woman seemed more like a salesperson than his idea of a shop owner. “I’m looking for Olivia Stone.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “I’m Olivia.”

  Logan held up his ID. “Logan Hunter, FBI. This is my associate Skyler Brennan.”

  “Right. You’re looking for a woman who bought makeup here.”

  Logan pulled the printed photo of the receipt from his suit pocket. “She paid cash, so we know you won’t have any financial information, but we hoped you might have surveillance footage for the time of her purchase.”

  “Sorry. No cameras.” Olivia peered at the receipt. “I remember her, though. She asked for the best tattoo concealer I had. Guess she thought I might occasionally need to cover this bad boy up.” Olivia ran her fingers over the coiling snake.

  “Did she have a tattoo?” Logan asked.

  Olivia nodded, making the snake appear to open and close its mouth. “One that I could see. On her forearm. Two closed fists with Rose City inked on the knuckles. She said it was the logo for the Rose City Rollers.”

  “Women’s Roller Derby?” Skyler’s voice rose in surprise.

  “Yeah. She said she was a founding member back in ’04.”

  Skyler shot Logan an excited look before focusing on Olivia again. “How can you be sure you’re remembering the right woman?”

  “Simple. I only had three concealer compacts in stock. She purchased all three of them. So until I get my next shipment, no one else could’ve bought one.”

  “Sounds like the woman we’re looking for,” Logan said. “Was she alone that day?”

  “Nah, she had a guy with her.”

  “Tell me about them.”

  Olivia set the receipt on the counter and settled on a tall wooden stool. “He was kinda flighty, like he might be high or something, but she was nice as could be. She said she was a professional makeup artist, and I believed her.”

  “Why?” Skyler asked.

  “We had a good long talk about products. She knew her stuff.”

  Logan pulled out a picture printed from bank surveillance footage. “Could this be the same couple?”

  Olivia studied the photo. “Maybe. They’re both the right size and their hair color is the same, but their facial features are different. The woman’s nose in the picture is much broader and more pronounced. Plus her cheeks are higher, as are his. And the guy who came in here had scarring from acne, which isn’t in the picture.”

  “Based on your perception of her abilities as a makeup artist, could they have changed their appearance in this manner with the products they purchased?” Logan tapped the receipt.

  She lifted the picture closer. “The concealer she bought could make the guy’s skin look like this, and she could’ve used the wax to alter their cheeks and noses.”

  “So yes?” Logan clarified.

  “Yes.” She stared at Logan, her eyes awash with concern. “Did they rob a bank or something?”

  “I’m not at liberty to discuss that.” Logan took the picture back and picked up the receipt. “If I arranged for you to meet with a sketch artist, do you think you could describe them as they looked the day they came in here?”

  “Her for sure. The guy?” She shrugged. “I can try, but he never stood still, so I didn’t get a real good look at him.”

  Logan needed a sketch of Marty, not Nicole, but he’d still proceed in the event Olivia remembered more than she thought. “Would you mind waiting for a moment while I schedule a sketch artist?”

  “No problem.”

  Logan stepped to the side to call his office. As he waited, he heard Skyler ask Olivia about Marty wearing a ring. Olivia replied that she hadn’t noticed one. When Logan had the session arranged for tomorrow at ten, he joined them again and confirmed Olivia’s availability.

  “You’ve been most helpful, Ms. Stone.” He pulled out his business card and jotted his cell number on the back. “Please call if you think of anything else.”

  She nodded seriously. “Oh, hey, you should check out the Oregon Media Production Association’s website. It’s a nonprofit organization for commercial, film and TV professionals. And try the Portland Area Theatre Alliance, too. They might know this woman.”

  Logan made note of the organizations’ names, then escorted Skyler to the car. The moment she sat, she started rubbing her temples.

  He watched her for a moment and didn’t like how washed-out she appeared. “Headache getting worse?”

  “Yeah.”

  “The adrenaline from the crash is probably subsiding.” She didn’t seem to buck under his attention, which was a red flag.

  “Do you want me to take you home instead of the office?” he asked gently, though he wanted to fire up the car and force her to go home.

  “I’d like to say I could do some research on my files, but I know when I’ve reached my limit.” She looked so sad.

  His heart constricted from the suffering she was going through. He longed to hold her. To make her pain go away.

  So what if he did?

  It was no use thinking about what he longed to do when she’d made it perfectly clear that his touch would only make things worse.

  TWELVE

  Skyler woke after a long nap to the smell of pungent garlic snaking under her door. Surprisingly, she was no longer nauseous and hunger pangs pinched her stomach. The headache had decreased to a dull throb, something she could easily manage with a few aspirin. Still she rose slowly to check for vertigo.

  No spinning or wooziness. Maybe she was on the mend. She freshened up, changing her rumpled shirt and jeans for comfy yoga pants and a T-shirt. She ran a comb through her hair and put on lightly tinted lip gloss.

  Not because Logan’s here, she told herself. Though he’d promised to stay at the firehouse to make calls while she napped, one of the team members had likely come home to cook by now and had sent Logan packing. Certainly Logan wouldn’t be cooking. He’d never even boiled water as far as she knew.

  Now ravenous, she hurried down the hall, hoping someone took pity on them and kept Cash from cooking. At the kitchen door, her steps faltered.

  Logan stood at the stove, stirring a small pot. He’d removed his jacket and tie and rolled the cuffs of his white shirt, revealing strong, masculine arms. Steam rose from a larger pot and disappeared into the air around his head.

  Logan made dinner. Correction: Logan made dinner for her.

  Her mouth fell open. He was inches from his promotion and should be working his case, yet he’d taken the time to make dinner for her. He was obviously trying to mend the rift between them.

  He looked up and smiled. “Are you feeling better?” His voice was low and warm.

  “You cooked.” She regretted how dumb she sounded, but that was all she could come up with when her heart was doing a silly clip-clop over t
he homey scene and the warmth of his smile.

  He chuckled. “Crazy, right? I made spaghetti. Turns out it’s not that hard.” He tapped his laptop sitting on the island. “At least not with instructions from the internet.”

  She wanted to laugh over his need for directions on how to boil noodles and heat up jarred sauce, but it would hurt his feelings. “You didn’t need to do this.”

  “I know, but I thought if you woke up hungry, I’d have something ready for you.”

  “I’m starving, and I really do appreciate it.” He preened at her gratitude, making her melt.

  Don’t read too much into this, she cautioned herself.

  “Let me grab the salad and garlic bread so we can eat.” He turned to the oven and pulled out a prepackaged loaf of bread.

  He sliced the bread and tossed the salad, then turned to her. “Let’s eat in here instead of hauling everything into the dining room. How about moving my computer so I can lay out the plates?”

  She reached for his laptop and the screen came to life, revealing a page filled with colorful class rings. Poof, her warm feelings vanished. “You got the pictures of the rings.”

  “Yeah, I just got the email.” He set plates on the island. “I was hoping you’d look at them before I took off tonight.”

  “I can do it now.”

  “And let your dinner get cold?” He mocked offense and closed his computer. “Not after I slaved over a hot stove all afternoon you won’t.”

  She couldn’t hide her surprise, but, thankfully, he turned away before seeing it and asking questions. She set his computer at the end of the island.

  He laid two place settings, then piled noodles and sauce on her plate and added a crispy slice of garlic bread. He loaded a bowl with salad and slid it across the island. “Dig in.”

  She twirled a bite onto her fork and savored the rich sauce. “Not bad. In fact, pretty good.”

  He settled down behind his plate. “It’s nothing and you know it.”

  “Honestly, it is something. Cash was going to cook to make up for last night. He would’ve overcooked the noodles and burned the sauce. And don’t get me started on what he would’ve done to the bread. We often choose to eat out on his night so he doesn’t attempt to cook.”

  “I can sympathize with him. This dinner could’ve gone wrong for me.” He tucked into his food.

  She set down her fork and picked up the bread. “Is this a skill you learned in Chicago?”

  “Nah. You know me. I’m hardly home and get all my meals from takeout. Plus it’s not worth the effort when you eat alone.”

  “So you’re not dating then?”

  His head shot up. “Way to come right out and ask.”

  “And way to not answer.”

  “I’m not dating.”

  Her heart soared again, but she immediately tamped it down. “No eligible women in Chicago?”

  “I had no desire to look. Not after...” His voice fell off and his eyes connected with hers for a brief moment before he looked down at his plate. “The job keeps me busy. Real busy.”

  “Tell me about the work,” she said sincerely, though she didn’t like hearing him confirm that his job was still number one in his life.

  He took a drink of water, then shared details of his investigations and his coworkers. His voice and face were animated and it was obvious how much he thrived on his work.

  “And your parents?” she asked. “How are they?”

  He shrugged. “The same. Busy. Driven.”

  Just like you.

  “I guess you haven’t taken the time to explore the city.”

  “No. When you’re alone...” His stared over her head, and she caught a hint of sadness in his eyes. “The job’s good, though.”

  She believed he should take pride and joy in his work—after all, her job was important to her, too—but she also had friendships with her teammates and she found fulfillment through her charity.

  What about what you don’t have? Love. The thought spiraled out of nowhere, catching her by surprise.

  She hated to admit it, but her life paralleled his in the relationship department. She’d turned inward to avoid being hurt again and had cut herself off from experiences to avoid additional heartache. Now she couldn’t help but wonder what her defensive posture had caused her to miss out on.

  Had she been kidding herself all this time saying she was fine on her own? Did she really want a man to share her life with? A man to sit down to a cozy dinner with? To have children with and shower them with the love she’d never had?

  Even if the answer was yes, she wasn’t ready to open herself up and risk the pain again. Being alone right now was the best course for her life.

  Alone didn’t break hearts and leave deep wounds. Alone didn’t bring pain. Alone, she did just fine.

  “Earth to Skyler,” he said, searching her eyes. “Where’d you go all of a sudden?”

  “Just thinking.”

  “Are you worried about Marty?”

  “Marty?” she asked, having totally forgotten about the investigation.

  “You know, the guy who wants to kill you?” He sounded upset that she wasn’t taking the threat seriously.

  It served as the reminder she needed to keep her emotions in check. “Were there any new developments in the case while I was sleeping? Other than the rings, I mean.”

  “Not exactly. Wagner met with the Rose City Rollers. They didn’t recognize Nicole’s picture, but none of the current staff worked there in 2004. They do have old team rosters in off-site storage. It’ll take time to get them. They suggested we check out their website forums to ask if anyone remembers the ’04 players. My team has started working on that while I called the people from the associations Olivia gave us.”

  “Any success?”

  “Not yet, but I’m hopeful.”

  “So at the moment, we’re left with the college rings as our only workable lead.” She pulled the computer closer. “I’d like to look at them while I finish eating.”

  “Let me open the file for you,” he said and came to stand behind her. He leaned even closer to use the track pad. She jerked back from him, garnering a raise of his eyebrows.

  “Here you go.” The pictures blinked onto the screen. He returned to his stool and attacked his salad with a vengeance. Maybe he was experiencing the same frustrating emotions she was feeling.

  So what? Nothing had changed.

  She turned her attention to his computer and scrolled down, page after page until she reached the bottom without seeing Marty’s ring. She fought back her disappointment. “Sorry, it’s not here.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yes.” She closed the computer.

  “Then I’ll have the team widen the geographic search and prepare a new list.”

  “Good.”

  They finished eating in silence. Forks clanking on plates and salad bowls the only sound. The air was rife with tension. The moment she finished eating, she hopped to her feet and started gathering plates.

  He joined her and opened the dishwasher. Though he didn’t cook, he’d always helped clean up. “By the way, Jake called. He said the squad was on a callout and wouldn’t be home until after dinner.”

  She met his gaze. “You can go if you need to.”

  “That’s not why I mentioned it.”

  “Then why?”

  “Honestly?” he asked, his gaze lingering on hers. “I hoped small talk would ease this tension that keeps popping up between us.”

  “Doesn’t seem to be working, does it?”

  He shook his head.

  “I really am okay on my own,” she said. “In fact, since I napped so long, I probably won’t sleep tonight, and that means it’s a perfect time to buy party su
pplies that the robbery interrupted.”

  He planted a hand on the counter. “I’d rather you didn’t go out at all. And if you do, you certainly can’t go alone.”

  “I really don’t have a choice. The party’s this weekend and I won’t disappoint these families.”

  “I knew you’d say that, but I had to try.” He gave her the barest of smiles. “At least let me drive you.”

  Being in a confined car with him was the last thing she needed. “You must have other things to do for the investigation.”

  He shrugged and turned back to the dishwasher. “I always enjoyed helping with the parties. It would be fun to do it again.”

  “So that wasn’t a lie?” The words shot out before she thought to censor them.

  “What?” His head jerked up.

  She saw no reason to sugarcoat her reply. “So many of the things we did together—going to church, helping the shelter—don’t seem to be part of your life anymore, so I thought maybe they didn’t mean as much to you as I once believed. Maybe you worked with the charity because I wanted you to, not because you enjoyed it.”

  “Helping the families gave meaning to my life and I did it solely to help them.” He swallowed hard as if the words stuck in his throat.

  “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

  “Well, you did.” His eyes dark and furious, he closed the dishwasher hard and started unrolling his sleeves. “Now that you know where I stand, let’s get those supplies.”

  Skyler grabbed her purse, and Logan shrugged into his suit jacket. He went outside first. “Stay here until I clear the area.”

  Hand on his weapon, he made a lingering sweep of the property, then motioned for her to join him. The moment she stepped outside, a fine mist dampened her hair. During her nap, it had turned even colder, and the rain intensified the chill. She didn’t doubt the snow predicted for later in the week would actually occur. They hurried toward his car, the tension palpable between them.

  He merged into traffic but kept his mouth clamped tight.

  Fine. Don’t talk to me.

  She’d pretty much struck out or offended him with everything she’d said tonight, so she was glad for the silence. Or not. At least she couldn’t seem to quit looking at him to see if he was still mad.