Logan's Bride (6 page)

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Authors: Elizabeth August

BOOK: Logan's Bride
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Just an old lady asking for help,
she decided. But as Boyd complied, she saw the ring. It was a four-carat diamond with a large sapphire on either side and it was her aunt's pride and joy.
“Why don't we help you back to your car,” she said, quickly approaching and placing a hand under the woman's elbow
“Now that would be kind of you.” The woman accepted the offer with a grateful smile. She looked up at Boyd. “And you, young man, can carry my knitting bag.”
Boyd scowled. They didn't have time to play nursemaid. He wanted to case the rose garden and the rest of the place. Over the top of the woman's head, he gave Katrina an impatient look.
She gave him an equally impatient glance. “Sometimes you find what you're looking for in the least likely places.”
Boyd looked harder at the old woman. Was this really Leona Serrenito? If it was, she was an expert at disguise. He'd spent an hour going through photos of her but he'd have never spotted her on his own. Picking up the large straw carryall that had been on the bench beside her, all doubt as to her identity vanished. The thing was so heavy he was surprised the bottom didn't fall out.
“Are you sure you weren't followed?” Leona asked as they exited the garden and started across the parking lot.
“As sure as we can be,” Katrina replied, her gaze continually scanning for any trouble.
As they pulled out onto the street she continued to watch for any car following them. She didn't spot any tails, but it wasn't until they were on their way out of town, that she finally allowed herself to breathe a sigh of relief. “Looks like we made a clean getaway.”
Leona had been sitting hunched down in the back. Now she straightened and smiled. “How in the world did you spot me so quickly. I was sure this disguise was perfecl”
“The ring,” Katrina replied.
Leona held up her hand and smiled at the huge diamond. “A gift from your uncle on our tenth wedding anniversary so I would quit complaining about how small the stone in my engagement ring was. And I deserved it and more.”
Katrina glanced back at her aunt and saw the glint of greed in her eyes. That was not something she expected to see in a woman who'd had a religious conversion. It was, however, the Leona she remembered. “Did you really give all of the money you took to charity?”
Leona shrugged and dropped her hand into her lap. “Some.”
“And the rest?”
“Tucked away for my old age. I didn't want to be a burden on anyone in my later years.”
“You had to know that having any ‘later years' would be questionable if Garduchi found out what you were up to,” Katrina admonished curtly.
Leona smiled. “I was counting on you to save me.”
Katrina's frown darkened. “That was taking a gamble, wasn't it?”
“So you haven't spoken to me in nearly ten years. So what? We're still blood. Besides, I know you'd like to get Vince.”
Katrina groaned. “With a family like mine, who needs enemies?”
“Speaking of family, have you been in contact with your mother's parents?” Leona asked.
“I tried but they didn't want any part of me.”
Leona smiled a motherly simile. “That's just as well. They were the most boring people.”
“I would have preferred boring to what I got,” Katrina returned
Leona sighed and sat back. “You've never gotten over your mother's suicide, have you?”
The image of her mother lying dead in bed filled Katrina's mind. It was as vivid as the night she had witnessed it. “It's not something a person forgets.”
Boyd noted the intense bitterness in her voice and, glancing toward her, he saw her hands balled into fists.
“I did my best to help you get through those rough times,” Leona reminded her.
Katrina drew a harsh breath and shoved the image from her mind. “I know and I appreciate it.” Not wanting to travel down memory lane any further, she turned her attention to Boyd “Where are we going?”
“You'll know when we get there.”
“Sounds like he doesn't trust either of us,” Leona noted.
“He doesn't,” Katrina confirmed.
Boyd said nothing, letting her comment stand. But after listening to the exchange between the two women, he was now convinced of one thing...she'd been telling the truth about her mother's death and her hatred of Garduchi. He was also willing to believe that she was telling the truth about not having had contact with her aunt for years. But then
a clever liar always tells some truths,
he reminded himself. She, or she and her aunt, could still have their own agenda.
Silence filled the car as he exited onto Interstate 70 heading west. An hour or so later, he took the Fulton exit. He continued for several miles, then pulled into a gas station. Instead of stopping at the pump, he pulled in beside a heavy-duty four-wheel drive vehicle parked next to the garage.
“I thought you'd never make a rest stop,” Leona complained, quickly slipping out of the backseat and heading to the ladies' room, the pads that had provided the look of ample hips left behind.
“Stay with her,” Boyd ordered.
Katrina gave him a dry look. “She's not going to run away.” Suddenly recalling how unpredictable Leona could be, Katrina did as she was told.
A few minutes later when the women returned, they discovered Boyd waiting for them behind the wheel of the four-wheel drive vehicle, As they pulled back onto the road in their new transportation, he handed Katrina a hand-drawn map. “You're my navigator.”
Forty minutes, one gravel road and two dirt roads later, they turned into a heavily rutted drive with a wooden gate barring their way. Katrina took the key Boyd gave her, unlocked the padlock on the gate and swung it open. Once he'd driven through, she relocked the gate and climbed back into the vehicle. She guessed they had gone another quarter of a mile before they came to a small cabin.
“It's rustic but no one should find us here,” Boyd said.
“I hope it has indoor plumbing,” Leona grumbled.
Katrina entered and looked around. The room she was standing in was divided into a living room area and a kitchen area. To her right was a small bedroom and left of the kitchen area was a bathroom. “Cozy” was the word that came to mind.
Brushing past her, Leona came to a halt a few feet inside. Her gaze too traveled around the interior and she crinkled her nose in disgust. “It's certainly not the Plaza. Surely the government could have come up with better accommodations than this.”
Boyd followed behind the women with his satchel, Katrina's green lawn bag and overnight case and Leona's straw bag. He scowled impatiently at Leona's attitude. “It may not be plush but it's safe. You two can have the bed. I'll take the couch.” Leaving his satchel in the main living area, he continued past them and put their things in the bedroom.
Well, considering her companions, “cozy” had definitely been the wrong word, Katrina mused. Aloud, she said, “I'll see what's in the refrigerator for dinner.”
“And I'm getting out of this getup.” Leona went into the bedroom and closed the door.
Katrina felt a pricking on the back of her neck. Turning she found Boyd standing nearby looking at her with sarcastic disbelief.
“You actually went to Garduchi and pleaded for her? You really told him that she'd had a religious conversion?” he asked.
“All right, so maybe she's a little difficult to take,” she said. “But she can be nice when she wants too. And she was very good to me after my mother died. I don't know how I would have survived if it hadn't been for her. I didn't have anybody else I could've turned to.”
Boyd's expression let her know he wasn't convinced Leona had a good bone in her body. “Your loyalty is admirable.”
Katrina regarded him dryly. “And I suppose there isn't anyone in your family who's difficult to get along with, but you still have a soft spot for.”
She had a point, Boyd admitted, a slow smile spreading over his face as his maternal great-grandmother came to mind. “Actually I do.”
He was incredibly handsome when he smiled, Katrina thought. Her gaze traveled to his eyes and in those brown depths she saw an unexpected camaraderie. She grinned crookedly.
“Well, I certainly feel a lot better,” Leona announced, coming out of the bedroom wearing an expensive silk pantsuit and carrying her makeup kit. Whisking past them, she continued on to the bathroom.
Boyd silently cursed himself for letting down his guard. What he was seeing of Katrina Polenari could be a facade. Beneath the surface, it was entirely possible that she was as cold and calculating as her aunt. Better safe than sorry.
Seeing the ice return to his eyes, Katrina knew the barrier of distrust he was keeping between them was again in place. A wave of regret washed through her.
Forget him,
she told herself and returned her attention to the food in the refrigerator. There were eggs, milk and some fresh vegetables.
“There's meat in the freezer, canned goods, powdered milk and cereal in the cabinet,” Boyd informed her. Taking a small cell phone out of his pocket, he punched in a long distance number. “The bird is in the cage,” he said, then hung up.
It was getting late and she was hungry. Katrina pulled out a box of frozen fried chicken. “Okay with you?” she asked, holding it up.
“Anything,” he replied with disinterest.
As Katrina searched for a pan to put the chicken in while the oven was heating, Boyd pulled out a can of green beans and opened it “See if you can find a pan for these, too,” he said, turning his attention to setting the table.
Surprised that he hadn't left the kitchen chores to her, she obeyed.
“Definitely not Luigi's cuisine,” Leona noted, coming out of the bathroom and frowning at the empty box that had held the frozen chicken. The heavy makeup was gone, replaced by an expertly applied light layer that restored Leona to her usual elegant self. She placed an arm around Katrina's shoulders. “Surely you haven't forgotten the absolutely marvelous meals we used to have there. The man was an artist with food.”
“Oh sure, it was great fun,” Katrina returned dryly. “All during the meal I used to wonder if anyone was going to come in and gun us all down.”
“I should never have let you watch
The Untouchables.”
Leona turned to Boyd. “I'm beginning to think the critics are right Television is detrimental to young minds.” Issuing an exaggerated sigh, she crossed the room and seated herself in the rocking chair by the fireplace. “I hope you know that I'm not going to tell anyone anything until I've got a pardon in my hands and a written assurance that I'll become part of your relocation program.”
“A federal attorney will be here tomorrow or the next day,” Boyd informed her. “He'll decide how valuable you are.”
“He'll discover I'm a very valuable commodity,” she assured him.
“I'm glad to hear that I'd hate to think we've all been risking our lives for nothing,” Katrina said curtly. Suddenly she was recalling the fear that had swept through her when she'd thought Boyd was being held captive by Ciarduchi's men.
Guilt. The intensity of the fear was due to guilt,
she told herself. If he'd been hurt because of her aunt, she would have felt responsible.
“Crossing the street is a risk,” Leona tossed back, then smiled warmly. “I'm glad we're going to get to spend a little time together. Remember when you were twelve and had the chicken pox?” She turned to Boyd. “She refused to let anyone but me see her for three weeks.”
Katrina grimaced as she recalled her face covered with pox. “I was scary looking.”
Leona studied her critically. “You could use a few beauty aids right now. Your skin is good but a little blusher, a little more eye makeup, and a fresh application of lipstick would enhance your features greatly.” She turned to Boyd. “Don't you think so, Officer...” Leona frowned. “I don't believe you ever introduced yourself.”
“Agent Boyd Logan, FBI,” he said. “And I think she looks fine just the way she is.”
In fact, she looks downright enticing.
Abruptly, he pushed that last thought from his mind.
The honesty in his voice caused a warm rush of pleasure in Katrina.
“You obviously haven't noticed that my niece has the potential for being a very pretty woman,” Leona chided.
“I've noticed that she is one.” Boyd mentally kicked himself, but the impulse to come to Katrina's defense had been too strong to resist. “However, her-looks are of no concern. I would think that you would want me to be concentrating on keeping you alive,” he added in curt tones.

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