Logan's Redemption (26 page)

“Logan? You still there?”

“I’m here.” He drew a deep breath. “I think I know who might lead us to this scum.”

“Take care of yourself, Logan. He’s a rough one. Do you want me to come out there?”

“I can handle things,” he said. “Thanks, Jo.”     

“Try to get some sleep,” she said before hanging up.

Sleep, he thought with a wry grin. That was something he’d not had too much of lately. He raised his eyes to the ceiling, imagining Doriana all alone in her bed. He could think of something else he hadn’t had in a very long time. His groin tightened. That particular line of thought did him no good.

Logan stared out at the dark night, forcing himself to reflect on what Jo relayed. This assignment was the most frustrating he’d ever had, for more reasons than one. He needed to put pressure on Candi. She’d been avoiding him since she’d lured him to that bar. She wouldn’t answer his calls and she stopped going to the cafeteria for lunch. The rumor mill at work had it that she’d taken a few sick days because someone had beaten up on her. He clenched his hands at his sides. He could take bets on who that someone was.

* * * *

Doriana struggled with her shopping bags. One of the smaller bags fell from her hands. She bent to retrieve it, dropping another one. “Damn it.” Her words floated away into the crisp night air.

Her arms ached from the strain of carrying heavy bags and her feet burned from hours of shopping. The crushing crowds at the King of Prussia Mall had made her feel like a crazed rat in an overcrowded cage. She needed to take off her shoes and relax with a glass of wine. Maybe several glasses of wine. Hangover be damned. She leaned against the doorbell. The door opened to a worried-looking Logan.

“I just called your cell,” he said, grabbing packages from her. He scanned the street. “It’s getting late. You know I wanted you home before dark.”

“I’m not a child.” She couldn’t keep the twinge of resentment from her voice. “Are you going to let me in?”

He stepped aside and she slid by him.

Logan shut the door and set the dead bolt. “Don’t take these phone calls lightly, Doriana. This guy’s dangerous. I don’t want you out alone at night.”

She dropped her bags on the living room floor and rubbed her arms. “Really, Logan....” The twinkle of bright lights stopped her.

She turned slowly to a grinning Josh and a Christmas tree that rivaled the one in Rockefeller Center in New York. “Oh. My. God.” Holding her breath, she walked slowly toward the magical tree.

“Isn’t it great, Mom? We found these cool decorations and Logan bought them all.”

The towering tree sparkled with a rainbow of colored lights and ornaments in all shapes and sizes. A swath of dark green velvet covered the tree stand. A ceramic Manger scene nestled on the velvet folds.

The extravagant decorations must have cost Logan a full month’s salary. Apparently he had no problem spending what little money he had. Was it lack of responsibility or Logan’s generosity of spirit? She looked at Josh’s smiling face. What did it matter?       

The pine scent that enveloped the room triggered warm memories. Wonderful fun-filled Christmases with her parents and Franco and Nonna.

She turned to Logan. His eyes glittered like a little boy waiting her approval. But his lean, hard body clad in tight jeans and black T-shirt was all man. Just looking at Logan made her forget the disturbing questions that swirled around him.

Her hungry gaze skimmed his body. “It’s magnificent,” she said in a breathy whisper. When her gaze locked with his again, the heat in his eyes scorched her.

“It’s for you,” he said softly. “All of it.”

Face burning, she turned to study the brightly lit tree. She recognized some of the ornaments she and Josh had collected over the years and smiled. Even those simple items looked elegant the way Logan placed them.

“Are you a secret interior decorator, Logan?” she asked with a small laugh, trying to cool the sensual tension that covered the room like the velvet tree skirt.

“Do I look like an interior decorator?”  He stared at her mouth.

She flicked her tongue over her dry lips. “No.”

Logan’s husky laugh wrapped around her heart.

She backed into the nearest chair and sat down, not sure her legs would hold her.

“This tree’s the coolest,” Josh said.

Doriana started. Josh! How much had he noticed between her and Logan? They had to be more careful.   

“Mom, I know I’m grounded, but can Steven come over? I want him to meet Logan and see the tree.”

Doriana put a hand to her stomach. She wasn’t ready yet to introduce Logan as Josh’s father. She and Logan had too much unresolved between them.

Josh looked hopefully at her. She glanced at Logan. He held himself rigid, waiting for her answer.

She shifted in her seat. “Okay, Josh. But let’s keep Logan’s secret a little longer until I tell Grandpop.”

“When are you going to tell Grandpop?” Josh asked with an accusatory look.

“Soon.”

Josh stared at her, then shrugged. “I’ll call Steve from my cell.” With a smile at Logan, he bounded out of the room and up the stairs, taking the steps two at a time.

“I’m glad you’re letting his friend come over,” Logan said. “Josh has been a big help to me the last two days. He’s a great kid. You’ve done a good job with him.”

Doriana sighed. “Thanks. He’s a good kid. Most of the time.”

Logan closed the distance between them. Bracing his arms on the sides of her chair, he leaned over. “Hold off for a while telling your father about me.”

“You surprise me,” she said. “One minute you’re railing at me because I didn’t tell my parents and now you tell me to wait.”

Logan straightened. “I know what I’m doing.”

“I wish I knew what you were doing,” she said.  

The phone rang, jarring the silence.

“Damn things,” Logan said. “I’m beginning to wish Alexander Graham Bell had never been born.”

Laughing, Doriana reached for the phone on the table next to her. “Hello,” she said into the receiver.

“Been shopping, I see.”

The evil voice sucked her breath. She gripped the receiver until her knuckles whitened.

Logan pried the instrument from her hand.

“Are you too much of a coward to talk to me?” Logan said into the phone.

Logan held the phone close. His face paled. Doriana began to tremble, imagining what the scum on the other end was saying.

“You bastard.” Logan dropped the phone into the base like a piece of vermin. When he looked at Doriana, his eyes were hollow.

She jumped up from her chair and ran to him. He pulled her into his arms and held her tight. “What did he say, Logan?”

“More of the same. Don’t worry about it.”

She pulled back to look at him. “He said something. Tell me. I need to know.”

He drew a deep breath and pulled her against him. “He said he hopes you enjoy this Christmas because it might be your last.”

Her breath seemed to stop and her insides shook.

Logan stroked her hair. “From now on I won’t let you out of my sight.”   

* * * *

Monday morning Logan insisted on driving Josh to school before driving himself and Doriana to work. She’d argued that she could drop Josh off as usual and head into work by herself, but Logan was adamant. Since the phone call Saturday, Logan hadn’t allowed her to go anywhere unless he went along. To her surprise he even accompanied her and Josh to church Sunday.

Doriana spotted the large envelope on Logan’s desk the minute she entered the office. “What’s this?”  She grabbed the envelope. “I wasn’t expecting a priority package.”

“It’s for me,” Logan said, taking it from her.

Shrugging, she went into her office. She threw her briefcase on her desk and slipped out of her coat, then started the coffee. But the routine tasks couldn’t stop her mind from going round and round like one of her father’s concrete mixers.

Why was Logan getting priority mail? She’d had a quick glance at the return address. Someone named Jo in Arizona. A woman? Had Logan lied when he’d said there was no woman in his life? Dread washed over her.

Her office phone rang. In the outer office, she heard Logan pick it up. A few minutes later her intercom buzzed.

“Russell Meecham on line one,” Logan said.

Doriana groaned. Just what she needed this morning—the head of HR whining about some employee problem.

“I’ll take it,” she said.

* * * *

When Logan was sure Doriana was deep in conversation with Meecham, he slit open the packet from Jo and quickly scanned the contents. Grove had a rap sheet longer than Logan’s leg.

He stared at the grainy picture enclosed. The guy looked familiar. Where had he seen him before? The photo on Candi’s desk? Maybe. The hair on his nape stood on end. He could swear this was the guy who was watching Doriana the day they’d gone to the small deli for lunch.

Logan fisted his hand around the picture, squeezing it into a ball. The stiff paper crinkled in protest. He set it down and smoothed a hand over it. He couldn’t let his anger take over. He had to remain cool. He wanted to strangle the guy with his bare hands.

He flipped open his cell phone and punched in numbers. Candi didn’t know his cell number. She wouldn’t ignore this call.

“Hello.” Candi’s voice came through loud and clear.           

“Candi, we need to talk.”

“Oh, Logan. Oh. I’m really busy now.”

“Do you want me to come to your office? I’m sure your co-workers would like to hear what I have to say.”

Silence.

“Meet me in the cafeteria,” she said at last.

Logan was waiting for her when she walked into the nearly empty cafeteria. A few employees lingering over breakfast gave them curious glances. Logan ignored them.

Candi took a seat across from Logan at the small table.

“You look like hell,” he said. “Is this why you’ve been avoiding me? You didn’t want me to see you?”

Her face, bearing the yellowed bruises of her most recent beating, paled. “You sure know how to make a girl feel good.” Defiance showed in the rigid set of her body and the tightness of her features.

“I’m not here to make you feel good,” he said.

“Then why are you here?” 

Her eyes were the saddest blue he’d ever seen. He placed a hand over hers where it rested on the table. She tried to pull away but he held onto her. He wanted to help her, but she’d used him the night she tricked him into that seedy bar.

He swallowed the words that demanded she hand over Grove. He needed to go easy or he’d scare her away. His gut told him the guy beating up on Candi was the same one stalking Doriana. All Logan’s instincts screamed the same guy was also responsible for the vandalism and bid thefts.     

“Candi, he’s going to kill you. You need to get away.”

Tears sprang to her eyes. “I can’t. I’m in too deep. He’ll kill me for sure if I leave.”

“Damn it. We’ve had this conversation before. I can help you escape.”

She pulled her hand from his. “You would still help me? After what I did?”  Desperation shadowed her eyes. “He promised no one would get hurt. And you weren’t hurt, were you?”

“I wasn’t hurt,” Logan said. “But someone was.”

She put a hand to her throat. “Who?”

“A night watchman at one of Callahan’s sites was injured earlier. And Doriana’s been threatened.”

“No,” Candi said, shaking her head. “He promised.”

Logan leaned closer. “What do you know about all that?”

She stiffened. “Nothing. I swear it.”

“You know a lot more than you let on,” he said.

The tears in her eyes turned to ice chips.

“Are you still seeing Bryce James?” Logan asked.

“What if I am?”  Her lower lip trembled.

“Do you love him?”

“Are you crazy?”  Her mirthless laugh rang through the room, causing the few remaining employees to look over. She leaned toward him. Her cloying perfume, sweet and musky, hovered over him. Logan stifled a sneeze.

“Love Bryce?” she asked. “Why would I love a man who thinks I’m no better than a whore?”

The raw pain in Candi’s eyes tore at Logan. But he couldn’t allow himself to feel sorry for her. “What does Bryce say about your beatings?”

She shrugged. “Bryce doesn’t really care.”

“Damn bastard,” Logan said. “And Bryce doesn’t mind sharing you with the other guy?”

Her features hardened. “No. As long as I do the things he likes, the things his wife won’t do, I can screw anybody I want. And Bryce buys me expensive jewelry.”

“Does the guy beating up on you know about Bryce?”

She shook her head.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Candi. And you’re the only loser.

She let out a bitter laugh. “Aren’t I always?”

“It doesn’t have to be this way,” he said. “Help me and I’ll help you.”