by Michael Kerr
“Am I free to leave?” Logan said.
“You’re shittin’ me, right?” Lyle said.
“Kate has told you what happened. I defended both of us against these armed intruders.”
“I need full statements from both of you, back at my office. Denny will drive you, and I’ll be along as soon as I can. Any problem with that?”
Kate and Logan shook their heads.
It was the middle of the night when Lyle opened the door to the interview room that Kate was in.
“Sorry to keep you waiting for so long, Kate,” Lyle said. “But Logan and you left quite a mess for us to clear up.”
“I’d appreciate getting this over with soonest, Lyle. I’m tired and pissed.”
“I’ll take an initial statement, and then you should be free to leave. But not to go home. Your house is a crime scene.”
“So ask your questions, Lyle.”
They ran through it three times. Kate and Logan had discussed what had gone down before Lyle had turned up, so had the story set.
“Last time, Lyle,” Kate said, “And then I’m walking out of here. I was dozing in front of the TV, and woke up when the guy that was shot hit me across the face. He put a knife to my eye, and the other guy drew a gun and fitted a silencer onto it. I was about to be raped, murdered or both when Logan showed up. The small guy attempted to shoot Logan, but he disarmed him and aimed the gun at his partner. Told him to put the knife down, but he attempted to use it on me, so Logan fired, once, purely in defense of my life.”
“Why was the surviving intruder bound up in the bathtub?”
“Logan thought that he presented a threat. I made coffee while he talked to the man.”
“What was said?”
“I don’t know, Lyle. I stayed downstairs and called you.”
Lyle sighed. “Okay, Kate, you’re free to go now, but I’ll need to take an official statement. We can do that later in the day. I want you back in my office at three p.m.”
“I’ll hang around, Lyle, until you release Logan. I don’t think he should need my services, but should you decide he has anything to answer to, I’ll be here to represent him.”
“Whatever,” Lyle said. “Feel free to wait in my office, and I’d be obliged if you made a fresh pot of coffee. I’m parched, and I need a caffeine fix.”
Logan appeared to be asleep when Lyle entered the other interview room and pulled up a chair. The big man had his feet up on the table and his head was hung forward, chin on chest.
Logan had been asleep, but came awake instantly at the sound of the door opening. He brought his head up to face Lyle, yawned and stretched his arms before taking his feet off the tabletop.
“Hi, Sheriff,” Logan said. “How’s it going?”
“I’ve had better days and nights, Logan,” Lyle said.
“I can imagine. Have you finished up with Kate?”
“For the time being.”
“And now it’s my turn?”
“Right. You seem a little unconcerned, Logan. You just shot a man to death, doesn’t that bother you?”
“He made a choice. I did what needed to be done to save Kate’s life. And no, it doesn’t bother me.”
“What about the body we found in the burned-out car?”
“Meaning?”
“Where were you when that happened?”
“When exactly did it happen, Sheriff?”
Lyle had no exact or even approximate time for when the corpse that had all but been destroyed by fire had wound up that way. There was still forensics to come in. What he did know was that the victim had been murdered before being torched. There had been evidence from the autopsy of a knife wound; the blade had entered the head underneath the jaw and forged passage up into the brain. So at least the guy had not been burned alive, which was some consolation for him, Lyle supposed.
“You own a knife?” Lyle asked Logan.
“Nope. I travel light.”
“You left town. Where did you go?”
“Not relevant to what happened at Ms. Donner’s house.”
“I’ll decide what is and isn’t relevant, Logan.”
Logan smiled. “Can we concentrate on the reason for me being here? I’d like to get a few hours’ sleep. It’s been a long day.”
“Talk me through how you happened to be at Kate’s place when this went down, Logan.”
“Providence, Lyle. I’d been on the phone with Clifton Marshall earlier in the day. He told me that Kate had been trying to reach me. I thought I’d call in for coffee. The back door was open and I heard voices. I went in and found a situation that needed to be dealt with.”
“The guy in the tub had a broken nose and a knife wound to his mouth.”
“He came out of it alive, so I’d say he was a lucky man. As for the knife wound; he pulled a box cutter on me. His mouth got widened in the ensuing struggle.”
“Bullshit, Logan. I think you knew exactly who they were. I wouldn’t be surprised if you’d followed them to Kate’s.”
“I don’t have a vehicle, Lyle. I’ve borrowed Clifton’s pickup a couple times, but not today, or yesterday. I hitched back to town and arrived at Kate’s on foot. And like I said, I’d never seen those two creeps in my life.”
Lyle shook his head. Logan had been a cop for two decades and wasn’t going to say a word that would incriminate him. “I’ll go get us some coffee,” he said. “And then you can give me a statement and get the hell out of here.”
“Obliged, Lyle. Anything new on the girl’s murder yet. Did you get that list of single males together?”
“You’re a civilian, Logan. I’m not prepared to tell you shit. Although I will tell you that the Marshall boy attempted to hang himself.”
“Attempted?”
“Yeah. Clifton found him, hopefully in time. He’s in intensive care at the moment. I don’t know whether he’ll make it or not.”
Logan closed his eyes and thought everything through while Lyle went for coffee. One of the sheriff’s deputies was a killer, had contacted Wade McCall in Denver, and had been ultimately responsible for everything that had followed. But knowing it was a far cry from proving it. Larry Horton was like Teflon, nothing would stick, because there was no evidence to back up what Logan knew.
It was another hour before Lyle told Logan he could go, but that he was not to leave town.
Kate was still there. They left together and talked as they walked out of the Creek to the Pinetop, having declined a lift from Lyle.
“Did you hear about Ray?” Logan said.
“No. What?” Kate said.
“Lyle said he strung himself up, but that Clifton found him before it was too late. He’s in hospital.”
“Is he going to make it?”
“I don’t know. I hope so.”
They walked in silence for a few minutes. The exercise warmed them against the predawn chill. Kate’s thigh muscles began to ache as she attempted to keep pace with Logan. His long legs seemed to glide along the highway.
“Slow down,” Kate said. “I’m not used to this much walking, and I’m not wearing the right footwear for it.”
Logan realized that he had been powering along, consumed by thoughts of how best to resolve the situation in relation to Larry Horton. “Sorry,” he said, slowing to an amble.
“That’s better,” Kate said. “What was the rush?”
“No rush. That’s my usual speed. I spend a lot of time tramping the length and breadth of this great country.”
“Are you being facetious?”
“No. For all its many faults I wouldn’t trade it for anywhere else.”
“Like I said, you’re a strange man, Logan.”
“Why?”
“You seem so together, relaxed and in control, and yet you have an unwholesome propensity for violence.”
“Violence is just a tool, Kate; like you would use a hammer to knock a nail into a piece of wood, or an ax or saw to cut it, or a knife to carve and shape it―”
�
��That’s just a metaphor. You shot that man dead with no visible sign of concern, and seemed totally indifferent about it afterward. And I know that you harmed the other guy after he was unarmed and of no further threat to either of us.”
“If he had dropped the knife he would in all probability still be alive, Kate. I was not going to take the risk of you being harmed. I don’t plan to harm or kill anyone. I stopped off in the Creek to just chill and enjoy some down time, not to become involved with murder and mayhem.”
Kate stopped walking, and so did Logan. They were illuminated by an almost full moon that silvered the asphalt of the road and the forest that rose up at either side of it.
“You saved my life, Logan,” Kate said. “And I’m almost blaming you for doing it. I’m sorry.”
“No sweat, Kate. I do what I need to. Now you know why I avoid relationships, I―”
Kate moved up against him, put her arms around his waist and said, “Shut up and kiss me, Logan.”
He held her gently and kissed her tenderly on the lips. He was immediately aroused. Sex was not something that he gave a lot of thought to, and did not seek out, but was happy to let happen with a beautiful woman.
Kate pulled away. “Walk fast,” she said. “I’ll be staying in your motel room tonight.”
“You think that’s a good idea?” Logan said.
“I think it’s a great idea. Don’t you?”
He smiled, and Kate saw warmth invade his eyes that she had not known he possessed. Her mind whirled. Part of the reason that she wanted Logan was because she was attracted to him, and part was at the relief she felt to still be alive and unharmed. Hiding out in the boonies and living like a nun was no longer appealing. She had run away from Chicago, but now appreciated that good or bad experiences were not always governed by the location you happened to be in.
“What will the other guests think?” Logan said, breaking her line of thought.
“I don’t care. It’s a motel. Nobody staying at the Pinetop knows me. And even if they did, I still don’t care.”
Logan grinned. They continued on, and as they rounded the last bend before reaching the driveway to the motel, three deer bounded across the road just twenty feet in front of them.
“Awesome,” Kate said.
“Yes, you are,” Logan came back.
Within seconds of closing the door they were undressing each other with fumbling hands, to then climb onto the top of the bed and make love with an almost frenzied urgency.
“God, I needed that,” Kate said as Logan slowly withdrew from her and they laid up close to each other on their backs, keeping physical contact.
Logan turned his head and kissed her on the cheek. “I need a shower and a cup of coffee,” he said.
“I’ll run the shower and you fix the coffee,” Kate said.
“Deal.”
They showered together, soaped and caressed each other, and made love again before drying each other and returning to the bedroom, to sit on the edge of the bed naked and sip black coffee.
A couple of miles away, after a sleepless night on guard and with Bama curled up on the floor next to his chair, Larry mulled over what to do. The hitters from Denver had not contacted him, and Logan had not shown up.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Bunny demanded a phone call, after being provisionally charged with breaking and entering Kate’s house and being in possession of an unlicensed firearm.
He called Wade on a pay-as-you-go cell number. Said that he needed a lawyer, and that Logan had whacked Henry. Wade told him to sit tight and say nothing until an attorney arrived from Denver.
Wade used the throwaway to call Larry.
“Yeah,” Larry said.
“No names. Just listen,” Wade said. “The two guys I sent didn’t make the sale. You’re on your own, buddy. Good luck.”
“But―”
The click and dial tone replaced Wade’s voice.
Larry took a few deep breaths and gathered his thoughts. No need to panic. Knowing your enemy was half the battle. Logan had somehow intercepted Wade’s men. How didn’t matter. And the ex-cop obviously still had nothing to go to Lyle with, or he would have done so by now. Logan was on a one-man crusade for some reason. It didn’t figure. Why would he be so concerned over a girl that been a total stranger to him? Or give a shit if Ray Marshall took the fall?
He looked out of each window to check for any movement, and then unlocked and opened the back door to let Bama do his business. The dog was extremely territorial and would sniff out anything on four or two legs that was trespassing.
“Find!” Larry shouted, and Bama trotted off to look for anything that didn’t belong, eager to please his master.
Deciding not to return to duty that morning, Larry fried up some bacon and eggs as he considered his immediate future. If he did a vanishing act it would put the spotlight on him. He needed to cast doubt out of his mind and stay put. His only problem in life was a drifter that he would now have to personally eliminate.
He watched the news and waited till eight o’clock before phoning the department. Denny answered.
“Hi, Denny, it’s Larry,” he said. “What do you know?”
“I know that Carson Creek is turning into a freakin’ shooting gallery, Larry. Two guys broke into Kate Donner’s house last night, and one got himself shot dead.”
“By Kate?”
“No. Logan happened by and took one of them out. The other is hurting but in custody.”
“Has Logan been charged?”
“No. He saved Kate’s life. His actions are being viewed as justifiable.”
“Who were the guys?”
“The one in a cell is Benjamin Dawson. The dead one is…was Henry Shaw. We already know that they were muscle for a gangster in Denver; some guy by the name of Wade McCall.”
“Heavy shit,” Larry said.
“Yeah, it doesn’t make sense why they would be targeting Kate.”
Larry talked the talk for a while. Intimated that he may return to duty the following day, and then rang off. What Denny had told him was unsettling. If the cops in Denver looked hard enough they would find an old link between him and Wade. That in itself wouldn’t mean a lot, but would instigate a thorough check into his background. Maybe fleeing town and starting over would be necessary. He had a place to go where no one would find him.
“Where do you want to go?” Logan said after he and Kate had got up and dressed. “I’ve got the keys to Clifton’s pickup.”
“I don’t know,” Kate said, “I’ve got nothing pressing to work on at the office, and couldn’t concentrate on it even if I had.”
“So what do you want to do?”
“Just chill, Logan. After what happened last night I’ve found myself revaluating the life I’m leading”
“In what way?”
“Every way. I lost the plot and ran away from my work and home in Chicago after what happened to me. I couldn’t carry on living amongst so many strangers. I felt at risk all the time. I looked at the violent crime statistics and knew that I didn’t want to face being potential prey any longer.”
“That isn’t losing the plot, Kate. A city is a place with a high population density; and with that comes more of everything, including crime. Most folk these days don’t even know their neighbors, and have to be subconsciously on guard all the time, and be aware that they could be at risk. Who needs that kind of stress? Small communities are safer. Everybody knows each other.”
“That didn’t help me last night, Logan.”
“That was my fault. Like I said, the attack on you happened because of your association with me.”
“Am I still at risk?”
“I don’t know. Probably.”
“So what do you suggest I do?”
“You can’t go to work and you can’t go home. We need to move out of the Pinetop and get a room somewhere away from the Creek. We’ll be John and Jane Smith from Idaho.”
“We?”
“Yeah. Until this is over we stay together. Okay?”
“How long will that be for?”
“Not long.”
Kate made coffee, and Logan used the room phone to call a Denver number he had memorized.
“That you, Wade?” Logan said when the call was answered.
“Who’s askin’?”
“Logan. How’s your hand?”
“What do you want, asshole?”
“To tell you that sending those two retards was a big mistake. You don’t know when to back off, McCall, so keep looking over your shoulder, because one time you do I’ll be there, and mine will be the last face you ever see.”
“You don’t frighten me, Logan.”
“I should, and I will.”
Logan disconnected.
“Did you mean what you said to that man?” Kate said.
“I did.”
“Doesn’t that put you on a level with him?”
“No. I don’t start things, I just finish them. And he isn’t the type to let sleeping dogs lie. Some sociopaths haven’t got an off button. They have to win. He deals in death, and so he will consider me, and perhaps you, as unfinished business.”
“I find this horrific, Logan. It’s outside the law that I practice.”
“Maybe it’s just a learning curve for you, Kate. The law that you practice is of no concern to scumbags that break it every day. A guy like Wade McCall has clout; is almost untouchable. He will have cops on his payroll at all levels, and crooked lawyers and perhaps an assistant District Attorney or two. He’s not a street thug; he runs an organized tax-free business that sells sex, drugs and protection.”
“It demeans what I do,” Kate said.
“I used to think that when I was a cop. You have to deal with what cases hit your desk and ignore the big picture. Do what you can with what you’ve got. Crime is a part of the human condition. Goes back to when Caine slugged Abel with an ass’s jaw bone. There’s nothing original about sin.”
“You don’t strike me as being the religious type.”
“I’m not. I believe in what I can see, smell, taste, touch and hear.”
“A cynic.”
Logan smiled. “No, Kate, a realist.”
* * *
Clifton pulled up in front of the house in his old Impala as Kate and Logan left the room. They walked across to greet him as he climbed out of the car.