Logan's Redemption (12 page)

“The feisty girl I knew wouldn’t have let anyone stop her from doing what she wanted.”

“That girl died a long time ago.”

“I wonder,” he said softly.

Heat burned her face. Had that girl really died? Being with Logan again triggered old hopes and stirred bittersweet yearnings about what might have been.

The phone rang, breaking the mood. Doriana grabbed for the phone, feeling she’d just been thrown a rescue rope against her own damning thoughts.

* * * *

“Dan, what can you tell me about Bryce James?”  Logan tapped his fingers on the FedEx package that rested on the small table where he and Callahan sat.

Pale afternoon sunshine slanted through the windows in Dan’s penthouse office, reflecting the confusion in Callahan’s blue eyes.

“Why are you asking about Bryce?”  Dan shifted his weight in the chair.

Logan leveled his gaze at the older man. “Because you left out something very important in his dossier.”

Dan stiffened. “Bryce James has been with me for twenty-five years. He had a little trouble a while back. He took care of it. What are you saying?”

Logan slipped some papers from the envelope in front of him and scanned them. “Let’s see. A gambling addiction so severe he checked into a treatment center.” He looked at Dan. “Gambling debts to the mob. Did you pay off his debts?”

“What if I did?”  Looking defiant, Dan fisted his hands on the desk. “Bryce is a friend. He paid back every cent. He hasn’t gambled in years. I’d know if he was at it again.”

Logan leaned closer. “How can you be sure? And what about the mob? Could he still have ties with them?”

Anger flashed from Callahan’s eyes. “I’m sure he’s not gambling or involved with the mob.”

Logan took another sheet of paper from the envelope and handed it to Dan.

Dan’s face flushed as he perused the paper. “What’s this?”

“Could be why Mr. James needs a little extra cash,” Logan said.

Dan slid the paper back to Logan. “Those are just copies of receipts. They mean nothing.”

“His name is on the receipts,” Logan said. “Do you pay him enough for diamond bracelets and top hotel rooms?”

“Where did you get these?” Dan asked.

“I’m in the security business,” Logan said. “There’s not much information I can’t get. And I think we can be very sure that James isn’t spending this money on his wife.”

Dan’s features tightened. “Who is she? The home wrecker? You must have her name.”

“I can’t share that information yet.” Logan didn’t want to implicate Candi if she had no part in the thefts. If he found she was involved, he would have no choice but to tell Dan.

“You’re implying that Bryce is selling the bids?” Callahan asked.

Logan nodded.

Callahan shook his head. “Even if he is selling the bids, which we have yet to prove, he’s not the type to vandalize anything.”

“I’ve wrestled with that too,” Logan said. “The vandalism may be coming from a different source.” He sat back and watched disbelief, then anger, slash across Dan’s face.

“You mean there may be two people out to get me?”

“It’s possible,” Logan said. “Maybe someone you fired has it in for you. I’m still sorting through the lists of fired employees and doing a background check on each one. The vandalism worries me more than the thefts. That fire early this morning means our friend has taken things up a notch.”

“Find the son-of-a-bitch who set that fire,” Callahan said, standing. “And I won’t make a move on Bryce without proof.”

“We’ll get the proof,” Logan said. “I’ve got some ideas we can go over.”

“I’ve already restricted access to the bids to just a few key employees.” Dan looked at his watch. “I have a meeting in a few minutes. Let’s get together tomorrow.”

Logan stood and gathered his papers into the envelope. “If I can get away. I don’t want Doriana suspicious. It was a close call this morning at the fire site. I think I put her off, but she’s a smart lady.” Guilt formed a ball in his stomach. He hated lying to Doriana. But the assignment demanded secrecy.

“My daughter is smart,” Dan said. He threw Logan a wry look. “She’s lots smarter than Franco.”

“She works hard for you,” Logan said.

“I know she does,” Callahan said. “She works too hard. The job and her son. They’re her life.”

What about this Josh guy
? Logan wanted to ask. Did Doriana have a secret life no one could guess? How deeply did she love this guy? Doriana’s love life wasn’t his concern. But he couldn’t stop the twin fists of hurt and jealously that punched him in the gut at the thought of her with another man.

~~~~

CHAPTER EIGHT

Doriana pulled off her boots and flopped onto the bed. She’d eaten too much, but it was Thanksgiving.

Mom and Nonna had served up their usual outstanding fare, Italian dishes—eggplant parmesan, ravioli and wedding soup—along with turkey and all the trimmings. And enough pies and pastries, or
dolce
, as Nonna called dessert, to feed a small country. She had enough food in her to last until the New Year.

Doriana grabbed the remote and turned on the TV to a mindless sitcom, then spiked up the volume. With Josh spending the night at her parents the house was way too quiet.

Thank God for her parents even though they meddled at times. They understood that she and Josh needed space from each other. She couldn’t tell her parents of her nagging fear that Josh was involved with the fire at the construction site. He still refused to tell her where he’d been until one o’clock this past Monday morning.

She picked up the remote again and flipped through the stations, barely noticing what flashed on the screen. Josh was more uncontrollable every day. Was he becoming like Logan as a teen, wild and rebellious?  

Doriana turned off the TV and dropped the remote on the bed. Thinking about Logan teased her with questions. Why was he at the fire site with her dad? That story about his having fire experience didn’t ring true. Logan and her father were hiding something.    

Thankfully the workweek had been short with the two-day holiday. She needed time away from Logan and all the longings, confusion and guilt he stirred in her.    

She trusted Anita to keep her secret. But she feared her own guilt would force the truth. Logan hadn’t cared enough to stay around the first time. Would knowing about Josh keep him here now? Doriana got up from the bed and ran impatient fingers through her hair. She was obsessing way too much about Logan.

She walked toward the bathroom, pulling her sweater over her head. Too bad she couldn’t peel away her problems as smoothly. The ring of the phone stopped her. Slipping her sweater back on, she hurried to answer it. Josh calling to say goodnight? She doubted it.

“Hello,” she said into the receiver.

“Hello, sexy
.”
At the crude, unfamiliar voice, she tightened her grip on the phone. Chills chased up her spine.

“Who is this?”  Her voice shook.

“Oh, you don’t know me. Not yet. But I sure know you. You’re sexy as hell, especially in those tight black pants.”  

Doriana slammed down the phone. Her insides shook and she ran trembling hands along the sides of her black pants. Had her caller guessed at what she wore, or was he watching? She gulped air.

The phone rang again and she let out a small cry. Balling her hands, she dug her nails into her palms. She would not pick up the phone. The answering machine clicked on.

“You can’t get away from me that easy.” The harsh voice, laced with menace, froze her. “I know you’re alone.” Almost seeing his leer, she shoved a shaking fist to her mouth.

“Let me in, bitch. I’ll show a hot number like you what a real man is. Not like that pretty boy you’ve been hanging around with.”

His loud cackle shot knife points of fear through her and she stifled a scream. The phone clicked off. The silence of the empty house closed around her. She glanced toward the windows. Could he see her through the sheer curtains?  

Trembling, she sank onto the bed and clutched the chenille spread as if she could hide herself in its folds. She couldn’t stay here, but she dared not leave. He could be waiting outside. She hadn’t set the security alarm.

She reached for the phone. Her dad would know what to do.

With her hand on the receiver, she froze. Her dad had looked tired all day. He’d been under a lot of stress. Remembering his doctor’s advice to take it easy, she knew she couldn’t put more strain on him.

The cops? Would the police even get involved? And if they did, they’d come eventually and look around, then leave. And she’d still be alone.   

Logan. He would help. She had his cell phone number somewhere. She ran to her purse where it lay on the floor and rummaged through it with nervous fingers until she found the slip of paper with Logan’s number.

Taking calming breaths she punched in the number.
Please answer, Logan, please
.

Her spirits sank with each unanswered ring. Was he with Candi? Or another woman? Hurt mingled with her fear.

“Tanner here.”

Relief spiked through her at the sound of his voice.

“Logan?” A sob escaped her.

“Doriana? What’s wrong?”

The concern in his voice made tears spill out. Despite the tension between them, Logan would protect her.

“Someone called,” she said, swiping at tears. “Outside. He knows where I live. He could hurt my son.” Anger, swift and hard, tightened her stomach. “The bastard will not touch my son.”

“No one will hurt you or your son, Doriana. Did you recognize his voice?”

“No, but he’s watching me. The son-of-a bitch. He said awful things. How dare he do this to me?”

“I’m coming right over. Give me your address.”

Doriana chewed her lip as she paced her living room, waiting for Logan. The wool of her Oriental carpets rubbed against her bare feet. She welcomed the slight pain as a respite from the numbing fear that clenched her stomach.

She’d set the alarm. If anyone activated it, the security company would be alerted. But by the time help arrived it might be too late. “Stop it,” she whispered to the empty room. The heater kicked on and she started. She had to calm down. Logan would be here soon.    

She looked at the brass clock over the mantle. How far away was Logan? She had no idea where he lived.

Her gaze slid to the side table next to the sofa. Pictures of a smiling teen-age Josh adorned the teak surface. She ran around the room, gathering up all the pictures of Josh, except for a few baby ones. She threw them into the desk drawer and pushed it shut.

The doorbell rang. She jumped.

She walked cautiously toward the door. “Who’s there?”

“Logan.”

She disarmed her security system, threw open the door, and pulled Logan in, locking the door behind him. “Logan.” She flung herself into his arms.

He gathered her close. “It’s okay, sweetheart. You’re safe.”

He kissed the top of her head and held her against his strong chest. Her trembling started anew and he pulled her closer.

“Tell me what happened,” he said.  

The steady beat of Logan’s heart vibrated through her body, soothing her.

“Phone call. Horrible and vile.” Her voice sounded muffled against his chest.

“And you have no clue who he is?”  The dead calm of Logan’s voice sent a chill through her.   

Shaking her head, she pulled away and looked up at him. “He knows what I’m wearing.”

Logan stiffened. “The bastard. Don’t worry, Dorie, he won’t hurt you. I’ll make sure of that.”

The glittering anger in Logan’s eyes left no doubt. She shuddered. “I know you will, but what can we do?”     

“I don’t think the police will get involved unless there’s a definite threat,” Logan said. “Maybe the phone company can put on a tracer. It’s too late to call them tonight.”

“I don’t want to be alone, Logan.”

He pulled her to him again. “I won’t leave you. I’ll stay as long as you need me.”

Like you stayed all those years ago when I needed you?
The thought shot through her mind. She forced it away.

“He’s on the machine,” she said, pointing to the phone with a shaking finger. “The scum who called.”

“I’ll listen in a minute,” Logan said, “but first I want to check every door and window. Where’s your son? Is he okay?”

“My son?”  She pulled away. “He’s at my parents.”

“Good.”  

A pinprick of guilt stabbed her. She hadn’t lied. Josh was at her parents.

“Where’s your basement?” Logan asked.

“Off the kitchen.”

“Stay here. I’ll go through each room.”

She nodded.  

“Everything’s locked tight,” Logan said, entering the living room minutes later after checking the house.