Cricket Cove (28 page)

Chapter Forty-Four

L
ogan woke up just before six the next morning, and he reached over to the alarm clock, turning it off before it could go off. He rolled back over and pulled Amelia into his arms. He didn’t want to get up and get out of bed, but he had to.

He’d never been a cuddler, but something about her made him want to linger, to savor every moment he could. When he started feeling himself get sleepy again, he forced himself to get up. He sat on the side of the bed and got into his pants, then pulled his T-shirt over his head.

Amelia’s soft sigh warned him an instant before her hand touched his back. “Are you leaving?”

“No. I just have to go out and get my bag.” He tangled his hand with hers, placing a kiss on the back. “You stay here and keep warm. I won’t leave without saying good-bye.”

“Okay.”

She was still curled up under the covers when he was ready to go. Logan hated to disturb her, but the last thing he wanted was for her to think he was slinking out in shame.

“Hey, are you awake?” he asked as he pulled the covers back to expose her face.

“Mmm-hmmm.” But her eyes were closed as she stretched and smiled up at him sleepily.

Logan lay down beside her, wrapping his arms around her cocooned body. “Are you sure?” he teased.

The response was the same, and he laughed softly as he hugged her. “Look at me, sunshine. Let me see those blue eyes so I know
you
know I’m going.”

Her eyes opened, and she lifted up just far enough to place a kiss under his jaw. “I’m awake. Are you leaving now?”

“Yeah. Will I see you this evening?”

“Mmmm. Do you want to?” she asked around a yawn, which she turned into the pillow.

“Guess.”

Her smile was pleased. “When and where? I’ll probably try to resume my library duties this evening, so it would need to be after that.”

“How about I pick you up there and we figure it out?”

“Sounds good.”

He gave her another squeeze. “I’ll see you then.”

All day, his mind kept drifting back to how right it had felt to wake up with her. When he got back to his apartment after work and started doing laundry, he was amazed and disturbed by how empty the place was. The utilitarian feel of the apartment had never bothered him before. It was a place to lay his head at night, a roof and walls that kept him warm and dry.

He glanced at the clock. It was barely five, and he had a couple of hours at least before he had to pick Amelia up. That said, he did have some papers to grade, and he could do that just as well at the library as he could here at home. He threw his clean laundry in the dryer to turn on later, grabbed his briefcase, and left.

When he got to the library, he headed for a quiet spot in the back where he knew a pair of comfortable chairs were arranged next to a small table. He stopped in his tracks, though, as he saw that one of the chairs had an occupant.

Logan cursed under his breath. Of course
he
would be here.

Owen looked up and saw him, and a tiny spark of amusement lit the other man’s face. “Fancy meeting you here. Pull up a chair.”

Seeing no other option if he didn’t want to look like a ninny, Logan did. “Sir. I thought I’d work on grading papers while I waited.”

“I’m not stopping you. Though I am surprised. I thought you were teaching those kids how to do everything on computers now.”

“Not everything, and just the advanced class for now. We start with the rest of the kids next fall. There’s still quite a bit of board drafting going on.” He pulled out the stack of papers and settled into the chair, trying to pretend his heart wasn’t hammering. As much as he told himself he was being an idiot, he couldn’t help but think about the fact that he was sitting next to the father of the woman whose bed he’d shared the previous two nights. The
baby
daughter on whom he’d put bruises with his fervor.

After about five minutes, Owen put the newspaper down and picked up a magazine that had been lying on the table. “Is it that complicated?”

Logan flinched. “Sir?”

“The work you’re grading. Is it so complex that you have to stare at it like that?”

Logan felt like a kid who’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t. “No. I was just… thinking.”

Owen coughed. “I see.”

He’d made it to the third page of the first paper after another five minutes, and when Owen stretched in the chair beside him, Logan gritted his teeth, cursing himself silently.

“Conscience getting to you?”

Logan closed his eyes. “Yes.” He was afraid to look across the table.

When Owen chuckled, however, he couldn’t resist a peek. Amelia’s father was grinning. “Now, what in the world would you have to feel guilty about, Logan?”

Giving up on any pretense of grading the papers, Logan sighed and slipped them back into his briefcase. He took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes. “You know what I’m feeling guilty about.”

It was Owen’s turn to sigh. “Yeah, I do. And God help me, I never thought I’d say this, but you need to stop. Do you know what Amelia did when I showed up this evening to catch a ride down here?”

Logan shook his head mutely.

“She dragged me inside and made me look at her flowers. You would think the damned things were made of gold or something.”

“Oh.” That wasn’t what he’d been expecting.

Owen studied him. “Listen, Sarah and I are pretty certain that we raised five intelligent, well-rounded, responsible children. They haven’t always shown the best judgment in matters of a personal nature, but for the most part, they’re pretty smart cookies. Amelia especially has protected herself. If she’s willing to let you in to the degree she obviously has, then I have to believe she knows what she’s doing.”

“I don’t,” he said quietly. “Know what I’m doing, that is. I’ve never… she’s different.”

“She is. She’s special. Even amongst a group of pretty extraordinary kids, she stands out. And the amazing thing is that none of her siblings resent her for that. Now, Amelia would tell you that she doesn’t stand out at all,” Owen said, crossing an ankle over his knee. “She didn’t get a college degree, she doesn’t have a ‘steady’ job aside from the articles and columns she writes, and in her mind, she still hasn’t proven herself. But if you ask all my other children, they’ll tell you that she’s helped them each regain a part of themselves at one point in time or another.”

Logan smiled. “She’s good at that. Maybe part of her Cupid abilities?”

“Maybe. And maybe it’s just who she is. Regardless, it’s made her siblings very protective of her. You may have noticed that from the other day.” His tone was dry, but his eyes sparkled as he watched Logan.

“It was something I picked up on, yes. And Zanny reinforced that defensiveness last night. She helped me with the flowers,” he confessed. “I know I’m not the best man for Amelia. I just can’t stay away from her.”

Something moved over Owen’s face, an emotion Logan would almost describe as wistful. “On paper? No, you don’t look like a good match. But I know what looks bad on paper, or what looks good, doesn’t always work the same way in the real world.”

Logan noticed that he was twirling his wedding band around and around. “You and Sarah?”

Owen nodded. “Not all wars are fought on the battlefield. And soldiers aren’t the only ones with scars, Logan. I think I understand some of your hesitancy. Sometimes when you get hurt very badly, by people who are supposed to protect you, reaching out again to open yourself up to that kind of hurt can be impossible. You just have to decide if the rewards are worth the risk.” He stood and stretched. “How about we stow your bag in Sarah’s office and get some air? The weather’s still nice enough that we should enjoy it while we can. I can’t remember a January being this warm, despite that snow we had.”

“Air sounds good.”

As they walked, they discussed Owen’s upcoming book. Although he conversed with the man well enough, Logan’s mind kept circling back to what he’d said. Was the reward worth the risk? Unerringly, he kept answering the question the same way—with a resounding yes.

Chapter Forty-Five

L
ogan and Amelia spent every night the rest of the week at either her trailer or his apartment. They were intimate, yes, but more than that, they grew closer emotionally. They talked about anything and everything, and Amelia had never been happier.

When Archer called Thursday evening to invite them over Friday for game night, they gladly accepted.

“Think it means they’re coming around?” she asked. They were stretched out on the couch relaxing.

“I don’t know. He said your folks would have the kids. It could be an intervention.”

She stuck her tongue out at him. “Pessimist.”

“Of course.”

The next evening found her putting together a box of food to take. They’d not had family game night in a while, and she was looking forward to it. She was also eager to show her siblings her relationship with Logan. She planned to show up earlier than Archer had specified, just in case she needed to put out some fires.

She was so caught up in thinking about that she didn’t notice the dark truck parked at the foot of her driveway. She’d just cleared the last step of the front porch when Roger spoke.

“Going somewhere?”

Her heart stopped in her chest, fluttering, then resettled into a terrified pace. “What do you want?”

He pushed off from the bumper of her car, swinging the aluminum baseball bat he’d had propped on his shoulder in a smooth arc. The swing was lazy, casual, and deceptive. “I’ve come to see you. After all, you are the one who ruined my marriage. Tell me, did you know Lori was fucking another man?” And with that, he swung the bat, taking out her rear passenger window.

Amelia couldn’t prevent a cry from escaping. Moving so slowly she felt as though she were swimming through molasses, she reached into the box and fumbled for the compartment on her purse where her gun was held. When she closed her hand around the grip, she almost wept with relief.

“You should go,” she told him. “Turn around now and just go.”

He swung again. This time, the passenger window itself was a casualty. “I can’t do that. Not until you’ve learned your lesson. When I get done with you, you’ll never interfere with anyone else’s life.” Another swing took the side mirror off, sending it flying across the car and into the grass on the embankment above the road.

“Where’s Lori? What did you do to her?”

“I don’t know where she is,” he yelled, spittle flying as his face turned red with rage. “The dumb bitch is gone. Gone! She’s
my
wife, goddamn you.”

He took another step forward, and Amelia dropped the box, revealing the gun. She had already taken the safety off, but now she cocked the hammer and assumed a shooting stance. “I do not want to shoot you, Roger, but I will if you take another step.” He was still at least ten feet away from her, but she had no hope he’d stay there or heed her warning. Still, she had to try.

When he saw the gun, his face turned ugly, into something that she almost didn’t recognize as human. “Bitch, you’re too weak to use that.” With a mighty roar, he lifted the aluminum bat over his head and started toward her.

Amelia didn’t think. She just acted. Time slowed down as the gun discharged in her hand, tap-tap, tap-tap, just like Rick and Jack had taught her. She didn’t hear the explosion of gunpowder as the bullets left the barrel, just saw the flash. She barely felt the pistol’s recoil. The empty cartridges went flying as though in slow motion, and the gun’s slide moved back and forth with a clinking she felt instead of heard.

When the smoke cleared, her ears were ringing, and she couldn’t breathe through the tightness in her own chest. She kept the gun pointed at Roger’s body, which was lying on the ground next to her car. If he got up and came toward her, she’d shoot him again.

She didn’t hear her uncle’s shouts, was barely aware of Burke Lockhart’s hands going around hers to put the safety on the gun. All she knew was that if she took her eyes off Roger, he would get up and come at her again.

Michelle was there suddenly, kneeling on the ground beside Roger. Amelia saw her shake her head, and then she was heading toward Amelia.

“Pip! Pip! Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

The words were distant, slowly increasing in volume as the ringing died down a little.

Amelia shook her head. “You can’t trust him. He’ll get back up and he’ll hurt us. Don’t turn your back on him.” She wanted to reach out and move Michelle, but her arms didn’t cooperate. She couldn’t move.

“Sweetheart, he’s dead. He’s not going to hurt anyone ever again.”

“She should be here by now.” Logan’s gut was tight as he paced Emma’s living room. Something was wrong.

“She’s only fifteen minutes late,” Rachel said.

He shook his head. “No. Something’s wrong.” He didn’t miss the looks that were exchanged around the room; he just didn’t much care.

Archer must have seen the worry on his face because he picked up the phone without a word and dialed. It was all Logan could do to not run across the room and snatch it away from him.

“Jack? Hey, where’s Pip?”

There was a strained silence as he listened to Jack on the other end of the phone.

“What? When?”

Logan watched as the color drained from his brother’s face. Whatever it was, it was bad.

“She… is she okay?” He looked to Logan. “Who all… No, I understand. We’ll be there as soon as we can. You’re sure she’s okay?”

There was absolute silence in the room as he hung up and everyone waited to learn what was going on. Archer looked as though he’d been punched, and he reached a trembling hand out to Emma. He kept his eyes on Logan, though, and stood.

“She’s okay. Do you hear me, Lo? She’s okay.”

Logan felt his eyes burn, and his face was frozen as he ground out, “No, she’s not. She’d be here if she was okay. What the hell is going on?”

Archer came up to him and grasped his shoulders. “There’s no easy… She shot Roger. He’s dead. But she
is
okay. I swear to you.”

There were gasps from all around the room.

“She
what
?” Emma asked.

“She shot him.”

Logan felt like he was going to throw up. “Where is she?”

“She’s on her way to the jail to get fingerprinted and to give her statement. Owen and Sarah are with her. Gilly and Michelle are with the kids. She and Burke, by chance, were at Jack’s when it happened.”

“So we need to go to the kids?” John asked.

“Yes. You all go ahead. Logan and I will go to the jail. Give me your keys,” he said.

Logan gave an instant’s thought to arguing, then complied, fumbling them out of his pocket as his body started to vibrate. He was barely aware of Emma and Archer exchanging a brief hug, then Archer running after him, only stopping to grab both their coats.

“I should have been there.” He swore as Archer whipped the SUV around in a U-turn. “I should have been there.”

Archer didn’t patronize him by arguing, just drove. In less than five minutes, they were pulling into a parking spot across the street from the back of the courthouse where the jail was located. A voice hailed them from the street. It was Rick, and he looked worried.

“Hey, are they here yet?” Archer asked Rick as they darted across the street to meet the deputy.

“No. What the hell happened?” he asked. “Come on, let’s wait for them inside.”

They followed him to the sheriff’s department. “All I know is that she shot Roger, and he’s dead,” Archer said.

Logan was incapable of speech. He could barely breathe, and he fought down the panic that was racing through his body at the idea of Amelia having to defend herself with lethal force. What would that do to her, he wondered?

“You weren’t there?” Rick asked.

“No. We were at my house waiting for her. Did you get called on it?”

He shook his head as he told the desk sergeant why they were there. “I heard the call and came in. I won’t be able to work on the investigation, since I’m family, but I wanted to be here to help if I can.”

“Burke was at Jack’s, I guess. Good thing.”

Logan was pacing the hallway. He could feel Rick’s and Archer’s concerned gazes, but he ignored them.

When the door opened at the end of the hall, they all froze. Sarah came in first, her face drawn and as white as rice paper. Amelia was between her and Owen, head down, arms closed tightly over her chest. Logan’s eyes danced across her frantically, looking for any signs of trauma.

Owen spotted him first, and he murmured to Amelia, who slowly raised her head. She didn’t move for what felt like forever, and then she was running to him. Logan caught her easily, lifting her off her feet as she sobbed in his arms. He was holding her too tight, he knew, but she was holding him just as tightly.

“I’m here. I’m so sorry. I’m here now. It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m here. Shhh.” Over and over again he repeated the words, keeping his voice soft as she cried.

He didn’t know which of them was shaking harder, him or Amelia. Archer and Rick stepped over to them, and Archer put one hand on Logan’s shoulder, his other hand going to touch Amelia’s hair.

“Logan, bring her in here,” Rick said. “Let’s get the two of you some privacy.”

Logan nodded his thanks and followed, directing Amelia into the small room.

Rick patted her shoulder. “I’ll grab some tissues. We’ll wait right out here.”

There was a table and three chairs in the room. Logan leaned against the table and pulled her to stand between his legs, then wrapped his arms around her.

Rick brought the tissues then left, pulling the door halfway closed. Logan figured the state trooper who’d accompanied the Campbells would be standing just outside, listening.

After several minutes, Amelia reached a shaking hand for the tissue box, pulling out a handful. She pulled back just far enough to blow her nose. Logan took another tissue and gently blotted her face.

“Are you okay?” he rasped. “Did he hurt you?”

She shook her head, and buried her face in his chest again. “No. I’m f…f…fine.” She let out a shuddering sigh that caught on a hiccup. “I sh…shot him, Logan. I k…killed him. Oh, God.”

When she started hyperventilating, Logan sat her down in one of the chairs. “Rick? We need a paper bag in here, pronto.”

“On it,” came the response from the hall. In just a few seconds, her cousin had the bag to Logan, who opened it and crumpled the mouth.

“Put this over your mouth and nose, and just breathe. You’re doing fine, sweetheart. Just breathe.”

Amelia’s eyes met his over the top of the bag, and Logan could see the panic slowly start to recede as her breathing evened out. He didn’t let her move it until just the tiniest hiccup remained.

“Okay?”

She nodded. “Thank you. I’m sorry.”

Logan kissed her forehead. “Hush.” He laid his head on top of hers and closed his eyes. “I guess she has to give her statement now?” he asked Rick.

“Yeah. And unfortunately, you can’t stay with her while she does.”

“Why not?” Amelia asked. “Please, can’t he stay?”

“Sawyer? How about it?” Rick asked the state trooper who was standing in the hall. “Can he?”

The tall, dark-haired man stepped into the room and studied them. “I’d prefer he didn’t. Were you the one involved in the ‘interrogation’ of the wife’s boyfriend?” he asked Logan.

“I am.”

Logan could tell the man wasn’t pleased by this admission. He didn’t care. Amelia’s comfort was his primary concern. He met Sawyer’s stare head on.

Rick intervened. “I know you want him here, Pip, but as far as the integrity of the investigation goes, it would be better if he weren’t. In the long run, you want that integrity intact.”

She nodded. “You’re right. I’ll be okay.”

Logan tipped her chin up so he could see her face. “Are you sure? I won’t leave if you need me.”

A ghost of a smile crossed her pale lips. “I’m sure. But could I use the restroom before we get started?” she asked Rick.

“Absolutely. Let’s get you fingerprinted first, then you can go in and wash up from that.”

Logan waited in the hall, staring after her until she was out of sight. The soft touch of a hand on his arm pulled his attention away from Amelia and down to Sarah.

“Come sit down. She’ll be okay now.”