Deadly Days: A Gripping Detective Thriller (Logan Stone Book 1)

by Brad Hart

  The man laughed then, and his teeth were red with blood. “No,” he said. “You really have no idea what I’ll think of, but I’ll give you an idea. I’ll be thinking of all the death I’ve caused, of all the lives I’ve so gladly taken. I’ll be thinking of the chaos and sadness I’ve created, and the world I made and the followers who believed in it. I can do that again in prison. I can build a whole new world. I’m good at it.”

  Logan bent down and grinned. He fondled the trigger of the shotgun, thinking about how satisfying it would have been to end the sick bastard’s life right then and there. He’d been responsible for the deaths of many, and it made Logan’s stomach turn. The mix of dread and joy he felt at that moment was nauseating, and his heart beat rose and then steadied when he took a deep, long breath.

  You got him. You didn’t save everyone, but you got the bastard.

  His thoughts brought his mind back to a sense of ease. He’d accomplished the mission. The man who hired him may have been dead, but he had at least saved his daughter. She could start over then. Brianne Jones was a smart girl, he could see that. She could do great things in the world. But the lasting effects of this situation and the PTSD could go on forever.

  Her parents were both dead, and it was all thanks to her father.

  That was out of Logan’s hands, and he couldn’t think too much about it. It was dirty work he dealt with, and he couldn’t go back in time and prevent the whole ordeal from happening. What was done was done, and he had saved her from this, although he couldn’t save her from the memories of it.

  He sighed, ignoring the sound of the choppers landing, of the police screaming and running into the cabin, of the sight of them as they reached the kitchen and saw him there with the bodies surrounding him. He looked up at them, smiling wearily, raising his eyebrows, and then he lifted his hands in a lazy shrug.

  “It’s over, fellas. Right?” He said.

  It was over, at least his part. Rounding out all the other suspects who took part in the cult could take time, but at that moment the force was confident that most if not all of them had been accounted for. Logan sighed and looked up, and his grin widened when he laid eyes on Walsh enter the room with Brianne and Isabella at her side.

  “It’s over, Logan,” she said.

  Chapter Twenty

  Walker was fast asleep in the bed when they came to see him at the hospital, so there was no long drawn out conversation or any emotional goodbye to be had between them. Logan and Walsh stood there for a moment, until Logan nodded at her and picked up his coat.

  “Give him my regards when he wakes up.”

  “You’re leaving?” She said.

  “My work here’s done, so it’s time to head home. I figure the cops and reporters got enough out of me as it is, and anything else they need they can hear from you.”

  “You’re going to be all over the news, you know. Maybe you’ll become a celebrity detective,” she laughed.

  He shrugged. He didn’t think much of attention, but if it meant more cases coming his way, then he’d welcome that. “Well, I’ll find out, I guess, when I get home. The girl who handles things like that for me will probably be calling me non-stop.”

  “Where’s home for you, anyway?”

  “New York.”

  “You’re a long way from New York.”

  Logan nodded. “It’s been good working with you, Walsh. I think you and Walker turn the department around. Think he’ll stay on the force?”

  She looked at Walker as he lay peacefully on the bed, chest bobbing up and down in a slow rhythm of breath. “I think he’s going to call it quits after this. Buy a house in Florida. Retire somewhere quiet. I know him too well to say he’ll stick around here.”

  “Can’t blame the guy.”

  Logan shook hands with her and they nodded at one another. They stared awkwardly for a moment, and then they both smiled and embraced one another in a warm hug.

  “Take care of yourself, Logan. And get a shower before you get on the plane. We both need one,” she laughed.

  “You too, Walsh. And yeah, a shower would feel good right about now,” he grinned. “And an aspirin for the throbbing lump on my forehead.”

  They parted ways, and Logan felt that if he ever saw Walsh again, it would not be for a long time. He returned to his hotel, took a hot shower, and gathered his belongings. Then he called a taxi and as he sat waiting, he thought about the rental car that he needed to return to the airport in LA.

  Had it been shot or damaged? Logan couldn’t even remember. He’d been shot at so many times in the last day he couldn’t remember a single thing about when they’d been taken hostage and put in the back of the trunk. Everything was a blur. It would come to him later. Regardless, the car had been left in the middle of the road on a suburban street near Michael Jones’s house, and he hoped like hell that he wouldn’t have to cover any damages or lost property fees.

  But considering the circumstances, he knew he’d be fine, and he let out a chuckle as he shook his head with disbelief, cupping his face in his hands and grinning into them as he closed his eyes. He was tired, dead tired, and when the cab came, he fell asleep in the back as it drove him toward LA where he caught a red-eye flight to New York and slept the whole way back until landing at LaGuardia.

  When Logan got to his apartment, he could smell the dust. He hadn’t been there in a while, and it felt unlived in, but still welcoming to him like an old comfort. The noise of the city outside his open windows was like a soft purr to his ears. It felt good to be back in New York, as it usually did. He plopped onto his bed, silenced his phone, and fell into a deep slumber.

  When he woke up the next morning to his phone vibrating on the nightstand next to him, he sleepily crawled out of bed and wiped his eyes as he checked his missed calls. Fourteen of them, including texts in the dozens. They were mostly from Tina, who wanted to know if he was okay, and wanted to talk to him about calls she was getting about new cases.

  ‘Everyone wants you now, Logan. I’m not kidding. This is nuts. Call me, ok? Soon.’

  He put the phone back down and yawned. He’d call her back later. First, he wanted to check the television to see if there was any news about the case. When the screen flashed and turned on, the first thing he saw was his own grumpy face.

  They had been filming him in San Feliz outside the hospital before he’d gone in to see Walker. He had looked like he didn’t want to be bothered. Logan chuckled as he watched himself on the news station, as he had hurried into entrance of the hospital with Walsh at his side the day before.

  He knew it was going to be an interesting month, seeing how things played out, and he felt comfort in knowing that he’d be able to continue paying rent from doing what he loved, from doing what drove him to wake up in the morning.

  The chump who had called himself the master may have been behind bars thanks to Walsh and himself, but there were plenty of other criminals who still roamed free in the country, nameless and faceless, and Logan wanted to capture as many as he could. It wouldn’t be easy, but it would give him a purpose, and he wouldn’t stop. He knew he couldn’t stop.

  The End

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