A Promise to Protect (Logan Point Book #2): A Novel (28 page)

“Yeah, we thought he was cold,” the other twin said. “And he didn’t smell good.”

“And he had a big nose,” TJ added. “And a mustache. A brown one.”

“I don’t think his nose was real.”

“Why do you say that, Josh?” Emily asked.

“’Cause he kept trying to fix it, you know, like it was trying to come off, and he’d push it back.”

“I didn’t see him doing that,” TJ said.

“That’s ’cause you were trying to get all the Dots.”

Ben cleared his throat. “If one of my deputies took you down to the station, do you think you could help Miss Maggie draw a picture of him?”

“Yeah!” the boys cried in unison.

“I’m coming with TJ,” Leigh said. He wasn’t going anywhere without her. Not today and not tomorrow . . . not ever if this madman wasn’t caught.

Ben’s headlights cut through the darkness as he turned onto the red gravel road that led to Jonas Gresham’s house. He had zero evidence that Gresham had kidnapped the boys, but his gut feeling drew him to the white plank house around the curve.

“You think he’s home?” Andre asked.

“Don’t know. If he isn’t, maybe Mrs. Gresham will tell us how long he’s been gone.”

He pulled into the drive, his lights flashing on Gresham’s old Chevy parked under the giant oak beside the house. He parked in front of the dimly lit house and stepped out of the truck, and the oppressive heat and humidity of August enveloped him. The air was breeding a storm.

With Andre pointing the way with a Maglite, Ben walked to the porch and rapped on the door. The smell of fried chicken wafted through the open door. Someone was cooking late. He rapped again, and a backlit figure moved toward the door.

“Sheriff?” Mrs. Gresham cocked her head. “You’re not here to tell me another one of my boys is dead, are you?”

Ben’s throat tightened, and he shook his head. “Looking for your husband. Is he around?”

She turned slightly and yelled over her shoulder. “Jonas! Sheriff Logan’s here to see you.”

Before she could leave, Ben said, “Mrs. Gresham, how long has your husband been home?”

She stared at him with dull eyes. “Why?”

“Don’t you be talking to the sheriff, woman. Ain’t none of his business what I been doing.”

A nerve twitched in Ben’s jaw. “Mrs. Gresham?”

“Sheriff, that truck set under that tree all day. Now if you’ll excuse me, I don’t want my supper to burn.”

“Satisfy you, Logan?” Gresham’s lip curled into a snide grin as he stared through the screen door.

“Are you saying you haven’t left your place?”

“That’s right, and the missus will verify it. Now, if you ain’t got no more questions . . .” He turned his gaze toward Andre. “I’d ’preciate it if you and your deputy would get off my porch.”

Ben rested a hand on his sidearm. “You’re not even curious why I’m here?”

Gresham lifted his shoulder in a shrug. “Figure somebody done somethin’ that shows you ain’t fit to be sheriff. Right?”

Gresham had kidnapped the boys. There was no doubt in Ben’s mind. He leveled his gaze at the old man. “You’re going to make a mistake. And I’ll be there when you do.”

“Why, Sheriff, I ain’t got no idea what you’re talking about. Good night to ya.” Gresham turned and sauntered away from the door. Before he disappeared into another room, a snigger reached Ben’s ears.

S
unday morning the smell of fresh coffee drew Leigh from sleep. Sarah must be up. She threw on a robe and hurried down the stairs to the kitchen.

“Good morning,” said Sarah.

“Morning.” Her glance slid to TJ, and she treasured in her heart the sight of him sitting at the table in his pajamas. If anything had happened to him . . .

“Mom! Hurry. We don’t want to be late!”

“You better be worrying about getting yourself dressed, young man.” After yesterday, she would never complain about his high-powered sentences. She glanced at the clock. Only seven. Ben had said he’d be here at eight-thirty.
Ben.
Was the Ferris wheel ride a dream? She let the memory linger as she walked to the coffeepot. “We have plenty of time. Can I have a hug this morning?”

TJ rolled his eyes, but he left his plate of bacon and eggs and came over to hug her.

“Thank you, young man.” She pressed her lips together and swallowed the lump in her throat and noticed that Sarah’s eyes were awfully bright and wet-looking.

Sarah half-coughed and half-cleared her throat. “Would you like some breakfast?”

“Just coffee right now.” She poured herself a cup and stirred
in a splash of creamer. “Remember what you promised me last night, TJ?”

“Mo-om.”

“Terrible things could’ve happened yesterday, son,” Leigh said.

Sarah ruffled his hair as she picked up his empty plate. “And not just to you. When you didn’t come back, I about had a heart attack.”

He dropped his head. “I won’t ever talk to strangers again.”

Leigh didn’t want him afraid of people. “It’s not about
talking
, TJ. It’s about going off with them. Or getting in the back of a truck or in a car. I hope you learned a valuable lesson yesterday.”

His eyes grew round. “I did. I promise.”

“Okay, go get your bath.”

“And your clothes are on the chair by your bed,” Sarah added.

Leigh took her coffee to the table, listening for the sound of running water. Once she was certain TJ couldn’t overhear, she said, “I’m afraid the kidnapping didn’t make a big impression.”

“I noticed that.” Sarah joined her at the table.

“Why should it? They slept through the whole thing, and when they woke, everyone treated them like royalty.”

Sarah raised her hand. “I for one am guilty. But I was so happy they were okay.”

Leigh leaned and put her arm around her friend. “I want to thank you for being here. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Pshaw. Go on with you. You’re like family.” Sarah blinked rapidly as tears rimmed her eyes. “If you weren’t going off to Baltimore, I’d sell my house and move up here. Get my own place, of course.”

Baltimore. It was what she wanted. Wasn’t it? “It’s been my dream for so long,” she said.

“But you’re needed here at Emily’s clinic.”

Leigh thought of the petite, eighty-five-year-old grandmother who came to the clinic Friday with an elevated pulse. Leigh had run a simple blood test and discovered her potassium level was
dangerously low. But anyone could’ve found the problem. “Dr. Hazelit will be here.”

“I heard Emily say he was retiring.” Sarah poured each of them more coffee. “And how about Ben? I see the way he looks at you. The man is in love with you.”

Leigh’s heart warmed. But a future couldn’t be built on lies.

“And I already know how you feel. When are you going to tell him about—”

Leigh jerked her head toward the upstairs. “TJ might hear you.”

Sarah leaned forward with her arms on the table. “Right is right and wrong is wrong, and this is all wrong. The man deserves to know the truth. Your son deserves it as well.”

“It’s not that easy.” Leigh’s taste for coffee disappeared, and she grabbed her cup and walked to the sink. The battle between truth and protecting the lie warred in her heart. Sarah might be right, but didn’t she realize how telling the truth would upend Leigh’s life? And not just her life, but Ben’s and TJ’s. She poured the coffee down the drain. No. She couldn’t do it. Not yet.

Thunder rumbled overhead, and she peered out the kitchen window at the dark clouds churning against the sky. A storm was almost on them.

“Remind me to tell TJ to wear his everyday shoes to church,” she said. “And to take his raincoat.”

“You’re evading the subject, Leigh.” Sarah’s words were gentle but firm. “Put it in God’s hands. He’ll open the door, but you have to trust him and go through it. He’s big enough to handle the aftermath.”

Leigh heaved a sigh. “I have to get ready for church.”

Sitting beside TJ in church, Leigh wanted to nudge him and tell him to be still as he shifted first one way then another. Rain
pelted the windows as thunder punctuated the minister’s sermon, yet again on forgiveness. She searched her heart. Was there anyone she needed to forgive?

The name came instantly. Tom Logan.

No. He didn’t deserve forgiveness.

Bitterness soured her mouth. She clenched her hands. If it hadn’t been for Tom, TJ would have his dad, and she wouldn’t be wrestling with telling them the truth. But it had been her choice. She flinched as thunder shook the windows of the little church.

Tom should never have made such an offer.
He
thought he was protecting his son.
Maybe she needed to forgive herself as well.

“Forgiveness isn’t about the person who wronged you.” The pastor’s gentle voice carried over the storm. “It’s for you. Forgiveness releases you from the chains of anger and bitterness.”

“I wish Tom
could tell you how sorry he is.”
Marisa’s words that first night in their home pricked Leigh’s heart.
Let it go.
Could she? She closed her eyes and willed her mind to say the words silently.
I
forgive him.
She didn’t feel any different. Except her hands had relaxed. She sighed. Forgiving Tom wasn’t her biggest problem, anyway. She smoothed the wrinkles from her cotton pants. If only she could be certain of the outcome of telling Ben the truth . . .
Turn it over to
God.
Sarah’s words just this morning echoed in her heart. If only she could.

After the service, Leigh found herself agreeing to have lunch at the Logans’. She simply couldn’t say no to the pleading in TJ’s eyes. All through the meal, conversation and laughter flowed around the table. She looked up more than once to find Tom’s eyes following her, and for some reason, they didn’t seem as cold. His coordination was much improved, and he was able to feed himself without making a mess.

Marisa passed her a plate of homemade rolls. “I’m so glad you joined us,” she said. “And after dessert, I have a surprise for TJ. Actually, a surprise for everyone.”

Leigh shot Ben a questioning glance, and he shrugged, then he winked at her. So, he was in on the surprise.

Sarah took a roll and bit into it. “Mmm, Marisa, these are so good. I must have the recipe.”

“Oh, dear.” Marisa laughed. “I’m afraid you’ll just have to watch me make them and write down what I mix together. It’s a cup of this and a pinch of that.” She passed a bowl of potato salad to Leigh. “Emily said you went into TJ’s Sunday school class today.”

“I thought Emily could use my help. I’d forgotten Ben helped her.” After yesterday, she couldn’t bear to turn TJ loose, even in church.

“I, for one, was sure glad to see you. The class was a handful today.” Emily grinned at her.

Indeed they were, wanting to talk about the kidnapping, plying TJ and the twins with all kinds of questions. Leigh glanced around the table. Happy, smiling faces, even Tom’s today. TJ’s family. Laughter floated around the room again. Sunday dinners at her grandmother’s had never been like this growing up. Her mother rarely made the effort to get out of bed, and her grandfather could be counted on to start an argument with someone. She tried to remember what it’d been like before her dad died, and no pleasant memories surfaced. Marisa tapped her glass, bringing Leigh back to the present.

“Now for the surprise,” she said. “Tom has something he wants to say.”

All eyes, including Leigh’s, turned to him, but his gaze was fixed on TJ. Unease crawled down Leigh’s spine. Tom looked . . . different. More alert. For the first time, she noticed he sat in a regular chair, not his wheelchair.

He licked his lips. “I . . . w-w-want . . .”

A sharp pain twisted her gut.
He can speak?

“I . . .” He tried to form words, but they wouldn’t come.

Marisa nodded, encouraging her husband. When he tried and
failed again, she said, “Why don’t you show them how you can use the iPad instead.”

Frustration pinched his lips together, then he nodded, and Marisa handed him the tablet. Very slowly he typed a few words, and she held it up.
TJ. Thank you.

A grin spread across TJ’s face. “You can do it! Mom! Pops can communicate!”

Tom turned to Leigh and typed again.
Thank you.

The room swirled. If he typed one more word, she would scream.

“He does very well as long as he doesn’t get excited,” Marisa said. “And all the praise goes to TJ for showing him how to use that iPad. Tom finally made the connection and started working with his therapist. I believe he’ll be talking soon.”

Leigh connected with Tom’s eyes. They held warmth she’d never noticed before. Maybe he wasn’t going to spill the beans.

At least not yet.

But, if she read the look in his eye correctly, he would if she didn’t.

Armero folded the Sunday newspaper and slammed it on his desk. What was Gresham thinking? Kidnapping the three boys. The only good thing about it was the timing—stroke of luck it happened about the time he made his call. Now if the flash drive surfaced, he figured the doctor would give it up. Maybe one more call to make sure she knew what to do if she found it. He jumped as his door swung open, and Jonas Gresham strolled in. “What are you doing here?”

Gresham hooked his thumb in his overall straps. Under his arms, half-moon circles of sweat stained his long-sleeved shirt, and Armero wrinkled his nose.

“Seeing my boy. He’s on the loading dock today. I saw your car in the parking lot and thought we ought to have a little chat.”

“You shouldn’t be in my office. What if someone sees you?”

“Who? Nobody’s here on Sunday but the loading crew. Chill out.”

“What do you want?”

“I want to make sure you ain’t planning on this being your last shipment of rifles.”

How did
Gresham know?
“You’re not giving me a lot of choice.”

“What are you talking about?”

“This war on Ben Logan. It’s bringing too much attention to Bradford County. You need to back off your little games.”

“My little games, as you call them, are keeping Logan off balance. Otherwise, he might’ve figured out you killed Tony.”

Armero jutted his chin. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t I? It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out you killed Tony. Been meaning to ask you why, but I figure I already know the answer. Tony discovered you were stealing the unmarked receivers.”

Armero pressed his lips together. The fast-food sausage and biscuit he’d eaten on the way to the office churned in his stomach.

“I keep hearing something about a flash drive.”

Armero’s blood drained from his face and his stomach went into free fall.

A sly smile crossed Gresham’s lips.”That’s what I thought. And you don’t have the drive.”

Armero regained his equilibrium. “I don’t even know if it’s still in existence, thanks to you and your stupid fire at his house.” He spit the words out. “And if I want to quit selling rifles to Mexico, there’s nothing you can do about it.”

Gresham shrugged. “Be a shame if a little bird whispered in Logan’s ear that receivers were disappearing before the serial numbers were stamped on them.”

“You wouldn’t dare. If I go down, you’ll go down.”

“Why do you think I always insist on cash? You ain’t got noth
ing tying me to your gunrunning operation. Nothing.” He spit the word out. “If Logan knew where to look, he might find a lot of interesting information about a certain Blue Dog company.”