by Jenna Kernan
By the time he made it home on Friday night, the kids were all asleep, Paige and her mom were also in bed and only his dad was up waiting for him.
“Funeral tomorrow,” said his dad. “Ten a.m.”
“How are Steven and Valerie?”
“They had a lot of questions about what will happen tomorrow. I was honest.” His dad also looked exhausted. This situation had taken a heavy toll on them all.
“How do you prepare children for something like this?” said Logan.
“I don’t know. I don’t really think that you can.”
* * *
SATURDAY, THE BLACK limo carried them all the short distance to the church for services. The Sullivans looked stunned as the two coffins holding their parents were paraded down the center aisle of the Methodist church. Services were performed and then they all piled back into the limo to be driven to the cemetery. Despite the snow, the ground was not frozen. The artificial green grass draped the fresh grave over which two coffins were now suspended. The kids clung to Paige as the minister spoke of loss and hope and love. None of it made sense to Logan. He could only imagine what Valarie and Steven were feeling. Logan thought of his mother, taken too soon, and of her funeral and the day he’d worn his first black suit.
The somber scene changed when they reached the Lynches’ house, now filled with food and light. The ladies from the Methodist church had taken over the house, adding folding chairs, flowers and food...so much food.
Lori stood with Steven and Valerie, following Paige and Mr. Lynch’s example of greeting all guests. The entire village appeared to be here, gathered to chat and offer sympathy and support. Logan was speaking with the minister when Paige came to get him and drew him out to the back porch.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
She motioned to the two small figures sitting alone at the picnic table in the backyard in the snow. Steven and Valerie hunched side by side on the tabletop, feet resting on the icy seat. They were still in their funeral garb but wearing their brightly colored snow coats over them. They were uncharacteristically still.
“Steven wants to talk to you,” said Paige.
Logan and Paige hurried out to speak to the pair. Paige pushed away the snow from the table and then sat beside Steven. Logan rounded the table and flanked Valerie, resting one foot on the bench.
“Hi, Steven. What’s going on?” said Logan.
The boy turned to him with red-rimmed eyes. “I’m a jinx.”
“You’re what?”
“A jinx. My dad got run over and killed and then my mom made a mistake with those pills and died. Then we moved in here and—” he looked at Paige “—your house burned down. Then you had to go to the hospital.” He ended with a wail. “And it’s all my fault!”
Paige gathered him in. “None of this is your fault.”
At her brother’s tears, Valerie began to sob. It was the first time he’d seen them cry, really cry, since all this tragedy had begun.
Logan picked Valerie up and sat beside Steven, rocking the girl as the sobs shook her. Both he and Paige let them cry, making sounds of comfort as they held tight.
Finally, the weeping slowed to occasional sniffing and the swipe of a mitten over a tear-stained cheek.
“Now, you think this is your fault, Steven, but I’m going to tell you the truth,” said Logan. “None of this was an accident or due to bad luck. This all happened for a reason, and your dad is a hero. He found out something, something really, really bad happening at his work. And he tried to tell someone, but some bad people found out and they didn’t want him to tell. It was not an accident. They hit him on purpose, Steven, but even after he was hit by that vehicle, he did the right thing and told Paige about it and she told me. Your father saved the lives of many, many people.”
Steven stared with wide eyes as Paige took over and told them both about their dad and how their mom died because she knew the secret the bad men didn’t want anyone to know. She told them all of it in terms he thought they would understand. About the virus and the men who were after it and how Logan tricked them and how they got away. When she was done they stared at her as if she’d gone crazy.
“My parents died to save all those people?” asked Steven.
“Yes. I know it’s not fair, but they were protecting both of you and me and everyone in this entire village. Your dad figured it out. He was the first one to figure out what was happening.”
Logan didn’t know if this made the loss easier because there was no easy way to lose your parents.
“I’m not a jinx,” he said, staring at the ground now, and speaking to himself.
“You are not,” Paige said. “You are brave, like your father and kind like your mother and smart like both of them.”
He nodded, and Logan hoped Steven believed her, because it was true.
“They would never have left you. They were taken from us all by bad people,” said Paige.
“Are they in jail?” asked Valerie.
Logan took that one. “Every one of them, and they will stay there, too. Come on, you two, let’s go back inside.”
Valerie hesitated. “Sammy Begley says we have to go to an orphanage now because our aunt ran away and we have no parents. He said we’re orphans, just like Annie.”
Logan felt the stab of grief at the pain inflicted on this pair. He dropped to his knee beside Valerie.
“We are looking for your aunt. Until we speak to her, you are staying with me. I want you both to stay with me.”
Valerie looked up at him through wet, spiky lashes and threw herself against him and held on for dear life.
“Really?” she said into the collar of his coat.
“Yes. I want you both with all my heart,” he said.
Logan hugged the little girl, lifting her to his hip. Paige wrapped an arm around Steven. Normally too old for this sort of display of emotion, he leaned his head against her as they headed toward the house.
“Can we go upstairs?” asked Valerie.
“Of course,” said Paige.
They walked the two into the house and up to the room the kids currently shared. After closing the door, Logan turned to Paige.
“I spoke to Child Welfare on getting permanent custody,” said Logan. “I’ve started the paperwork.”
She nodded.
“What do you think?” he asked.
“I think Valerie and Steven are very lucky to have someone like you in their lives. But I’m sure Freda will take custody,” she said, speaking of the children’s aunt.
“Then why isn’t she here?” he asked.
Paige gave him a bewildered look. “I don’t know.”
“I’m thinking about having them see someone,” said Logan. “A therapist, I mean.”
“That seems wise.”
His father called up the stairs to Logan.
“Logan, you two got a minute? The sheriff is here.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Sheriff Trace, Logan and Paige stepped out onto the front porch, which was the only place not overflowing with guests.
The sheriff had his arm in a sling from the bullet that had grazed his biceps. Fourteen stitches later, he was discharged, but his fiancée, Agent Hockings, had been transferred to Glens Falls Hospital.
“How is Agent Hockings?” asked Logan.
He knew only that, unlike Paige, Hockings’s condition was serious.
“Stable. Still in the ICU. The bullet traveled from her armpit through a major artery there.” The sheriff lifted his arm and pointed to the place where the bullet had missed her body armor and struck flesh. “It hit a rib on the way in, slowed it down and redirected it away from her heart. Thank God. But the bullet did puncture her lung. She’s had surgery to stop the bleeding and remove the bullet. That chunk of lead made it between two ribs in her back and then stopp
ed. Doctor said it sat just under the skin in her back below the shoulder blade.”
“She going to be all right?” asked Paige.
“She’s battling an infection. Winning. She’ll make it. I’ve never met a stronger woman.”
But Logan had. He’d met Paige.
“How are you feeling, Dr. Morris?” asked the sheriff.
“They released me yesterday. Now I’m just tired.”
“That’s good news.” The pleasantries ended and the sheriff began an update. He’d been in contact with both Detective Albritton and Hockings’s supervisor.
According to Trace, Reber, Newman and Park were all in federal custody. The box truck driver had been apprehended, along with the two gunmen who had chased him and Paige on snowmobiles. One had shattered his hip, the other had frostbite from trying to walk out on a broken ankle after his snowmobile was destroyed in the fall from the bridge. They were members of a sleeper cell of Siming’s Army. One of the two was cooperating with authorities. He reported that Siming’s Army had recruited several employees of Rathburn-Bramley, including the CFO and the head of security.
“Why would the CFO of that company work with terrorists?” asked Logan.
“Money. A lot of it. Nearly a half million dollars that they know about so far. She appears to be the first one up here to be on their payroll.”
“And the others?” asked Paige.
“Well, Sullivan wasn’t. He’s the one who discovered they were producing something off the books and reported it to Reber. Unfortunately, your head of security has a wife with a chronic back injury.”
Paige knew that. “Skiing accident. She’s had two surgeries.”
“And she has an opioid addiction. Mr. Reber was caught stealing product and, instead of firing him, Vitale put him on the payroll and supplied his wife with drugs,” said Trace. “Oh, I almost forgot. Reber was the driver who killed Dr. Edward Sullivan.”
Logan straightened at this revelation. “How do you know?”
“Confessed. A buddy, now on suspension in Poughkeepsie, found him a guy up here with a possession conviction and a DUI, a perfect fall guy. Lou stole his vehicle and waited in that vehicle for Sullivan to take his run. Reber claims he hit Sullivan and left him to die. Then he returned the truck and made it back to Rathburn-Bramley before his shift.”
“You have evidence to back that up?” asked Logan.
“We will. We’ve impounded the vehicle. We’re hopeful we’ll get something solid.”
“This was all for his wife?” asked Paige in disbelief.
“That’s right.” There was a pause in the conversation. Trace held Logan’s gaze a moment, making him wonder if Trace was also contemplating what they each would or wouldn’t do for their women.
“What about Carol Newman?” asked Paige, mentioning the new supervisor who had shot at them on the loading dock.
“When Vitale came on the payroll, she hired a new personnel director. The new personnel director does not seem connected except that he hired anyone that Vitale told him to. When she said to hire Carol Newman, a woman with zero knowledge or experience in pharmaceuticals, he did just that. Newman is one of Siming’s Army. So is Sinclair Park, the production manager. He had experience in production, but he’s one of them, too.”
“Who set the fire?” asked Logan.
“We believe that was also Reber or Park. Again, made to look like you did it, Paige. You were not supposed to survive to contradict their narrative.”
“How long will we have the FBI protection?” asked Paige, glancing to the agents parked in the SUV in the driveway.
“At least until they shut down this organization. Hard to say. They’re making arrests.”
Logan glanced toward the house. “You know that I’m fostering Steven and Valerie Sullivan.”
“I’m aware,” said Trace.
“I’ve applied for permanent placement until they find their aunt. Do you have information on her whereabouts?”
“Oh, yes. I do. DHS found her,” said Trace. “She’s working with them. When she discovered her sister’s body, she ran. Apparently, her sister wouldn’t even take an aspirin. Objected to medications in general, I was told.”
“I said from the beginning that she would not have taken her life,” said Paige.
“Or taken those pills to sleep, apparently.” Trace absently rubbed his knuckles over the stubble on his jaw. “Ms. Kubr’s sister told her things, a lot of things. Everything that her husband told her. According to Detective Albritton, Kubr believed they’d kill her, too, so she ran.”
“Understandable. But her niece and nephew. When is she coming back?” asked Paige.
“She’s requested witness protection. FBI is turning her over to the Marshals Services. Albritton doesn’t think they’ll take her, but he did say that she was in no condition to take over custody. I think you’d be the better choice.”
Trace nodded.
“She’s willing to give up custody claims?” asked Paige, incredulous.
“That’s what I was told by the FBI.”
“But they’re her sister’s children,” said Paige, now bewildered.
Logan smiled. Paige would never abandon her flesh and blood and, if she had a sister, she would consider those children her children.
Logan didn’t know if he should feel happy or sad that Freda didn’t want custody. Happy to be able to raise those two wonderful kids, and sad at the circumstances, he supposed.
“How is Allen Drake?” asked Paige.
“He’s had surgery. The bullets punctured his stomach, so infection is a worry. But his prognosis is good.”
Paige smiled at this news.
Logan hesitated and then asked the tough question. “What about my brother?”
“He’s in real trouble, Logan. His attorney is working out a plea bargain. It might help reduce his sentence but he’s up to his neck in it. He’s admitted, for instance, that he drugged Paige and that he planted those opioids on the Morrises’ premises.”
Paige sucked in a breath and set her jaw. She and Logan exchanged a look as her suspicion was confirmed.
“I’m sorry,” she said to Logan.
“Did he tell you why?” Logan asked Trace.
“In order to plant the narcotics in her bedroom and discredit her. Having her act crazy in town right after her suspension and before they placed her under arrest made her look like she was using. Easier for them to fire her, they told him.”
“But he loves Paige. How could he do that to her?”
“He claims that he didn’t know about the plans for the house fire.”
“But why was he working with them at all?” said Logan, the exasperation clear in his voice.
“At first, he was being blackmailed. Vitale had him investigated, along with others, looking for easy targets. Found out he’d misappropriated village funds to pay personal debts. She had him after that. Your brother owed everybody to the tune of over $125,000. That house, the vehicles, lifestyle and his business—he didn’t own any of it. I understand he didn’t do well in real estate. Lost money every year.”
Logan had thought his brother such a success. The reality twisted his heart and made his stomach ache. It had all been a lie. Especially the part about him looking out for his kid brother. All the time Connor had been trying to steal Paige out from under his nose. And he probably thought putting his brother in the constable’s position would mean Connor would never face investigation.
That thought made her sick. Connor had underestimated Logan. He hadn’t seen the improvements in his condition. Only Paige had.
Paige took Logan’s hand and gave it a squeeze before drawing back. She had no siblings, but understanding reflected in her expression. Connor had betrayed them both.
“He convinced the village to hire me,” Logan admitted.
“We’re aware. That was one of the best and worst decisions your brother ever made. They underestimated you, Logan. I did, too, and I’m sorry about that.”
“Thanks for saying so.”
“I mean it, Logan. You did everything right. Switching the product, hiding the pathogen in plain sight and using the other boxes as a decoy. That was brilliant.”
“What is Connor facing?” asked Logan.
“Conspiracy, fraud, embezzlement, interfering with federal investigation. Then there are the crimes against Paige, drugging her, kidnapping, planting false evidence. It’s a long list. Even with a deal, he’s going to federal prison, Logan. There’ll be no way to avoid that. For how long will depend on how useful they find his testimony.”
“I’ll speak to him about that.”
“That’s a good idea.”
“What about the men who showed up at the firehouse?” asked Paige. “Did you catch them?”
“Yes and no. FBI followed them all the way to a rest stop below Albany. They were, all four of them, squirting disinfectant spray all over the lobby and food court.”
“Trying to infect travelers,” said Paige. “They thought it was the pathogen.”
Trace nodded and his expression grew deadly serious. “You two stopped a pandemic.”
Logan let that sink in and the fallout that might now be happening if he had not made that switch.
“So instead of an epidemic unlike this country has ever seen, we have one of the cleanest rest stops on the entire New York State Thruway.” He clapped Logan on the shoulder with his uninjured hand.
“But they were arrested?” asked Paige.
“Not at that time. Followed and made arrests yesterday. They led the FBI right back to their sleeper cell.
“Good work, Logan, on the switch. Really amazing work. If it were up to me, we’d get you another Medal of Honor.”
Logan flushed.
“Thank you, Constable Lynch and Dr. Morris,” he said with a new formality. “You two saved our lives. I know if you and Paige had not been there, Rylee and I would have died on that loading dock. We owe you and won’t forget.”