Luck Be a Lady

by Cathie Linz

  “She’s safe now.”

  “And?”

  “And that’s all I’m saying.”

  “You don’t trust me.” It wasn’t a question.

  “Not with her information, no. I’d rather be safe than sorry.”

  “That seems to be a personality trait of yours. Yet you took a risk and left the Venetian with me.”

  “Yeah, and look how well that turned out.”

  “What, you don’t like our plush accommodations?” He swept his hand around the room. “You don’t think they’re quite as grand as your room back at the Venetian?”

  She looked around. The drapes had large hearts on them and the painting over the bed was of dogs playing poker. “Not even close.”

  “You don’t like the way they’ve ‘rehabbed’ the place?”

  “I had no idea orange shag carpet was coming back,” she said.

  “This carpet looks like it never left.”

  “At least there are no stains on it.”

  “That you can see.”

  “I prefer to be an optimist,” Megan said.

  “How’s that working for you?”

  “It’s gotten me this far, but I am starting to rethink that approach. It’s true that I’ve always been the optimist in the family, but ...”

  “But?”

  “I don’t know.” She shrugged. “I’m tired of always being the one to find the silver lining.”

  “Hey, it’s a tough job ...”

  “But someone has to do it. Yes, I know.”

  “Finding the good in a bad situation is a special talent,” Logan said. “I wouldn’t knock it if I were you.”

  “I’m guessing you’re not an optimist yourself.”

  “You’ve got that right,” Logan said. “I come from a long line of pessimists. If you think your family is strange, you should see mine.”

  “I haveseen yours. Your grandfather Buddy.”

  “He’s only the tip of the Irish iceberg. And then there’s the Polish side. Between the two branches, I have enough cousins and other relatives to fill a couple tour buses. I’m not kidding.”

  “What’s strange about coming from a large family? Growing up, I thought it would be nice to have a lot of relatives. Do you have a lot of brothers and sisters?”

  “No sisters. All brothers.”

  “How many?”

  “Two brothers and two much younger half brothers still in middle school. My dad married three times and got divorced three times.”

  “Wow.”

  “He’s a cop. As you said, the profession is tough on a personal life.”

  “What about you? How many times have you been married?”

  “Just once,” he said.

  Megan’s heart stopped. Had she been lusting after a married man? Had he been flirting with her? He didn’t wear a wedding ring, but that didn’t mean anything.

  “I’ve only been divorced once too,” Logan said. “And before you ask, no, it wasn’t because of any abuse. I came home from work one night and found her in bed with another man.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah, well, shit happens.”

  “Yes, it does. But I wish it didn’t.”

  “That’s what makes you an optimist.”

  Her eyes met his and the visual connection was incredibly intense, making her quickly look away. Or maybe it was the fact that he looked incredibly hot sitting in the bed, shirtless.

  What had they been talking about? Wishes. Right. The thought flashed in her mind that she wished she was in bed with him, nestled against that bare chest, running her fingers over the impressive definition of his muscles . . .

  Okay, she needed to stop that train of thought before it turned into a train wreck. She had to stop drooling and say something sensible. They’d been talking about his siblings.

  “I wish I’d had siblings,” she said, rather proud of how calm she sounded.

  “Be careful what you wish for. My sibs are hell on wheels. But they’ve got my back.”

  “My dad had my back. At least, I always thought so. Now I don’t know what to think. Why would he tell me my mother is dead when she wasn’t?”

  Logan shrugged. “You’re asking the wrong guy. You need to ask him.”

  “I will. As soon as I get my head together.”

  “And we get out of here. If we ever get out of here.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “They don’t seem real eager for us to leave, have you noticed that?” he said.

  “They’re just lonely. They don’t get many visitors.”

  “That’s an understatement.”

  “But they seem like nice people. Pepper showed me some wonderful vintage clothes. She offered to give them to me, but I insisted on paying for them.”

  “Of course you did.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I don’t trust them,” he said.

  “They’re a bunch of senior citizens who have led really amazing lives, if you take the time to listen.”

  “I heard about Pepper’s Marilyn Monroe impersonation,”

  “She never met Marilyn, but she did meet Dean Martin. She has some incredible stories.”

  “Incredible being the operative word. As in fiction.”

  “You think she’s making everything up?” Megan asked.

  “I think she’s making a lot of stuff up. And she’s not the only one. I think her two male sidekicks are guilty of the same fabrications.”

  “So maybe they elaborate their stories a little. That’s not a crime.”

  Logan made a noncommittal sound.

  “What? You think these people are criminals? What? They cheated at bingo? Stole some extra sugar packets from an all-you-can-eat buffet?”

  “I don’t know what they’re up to, but they’re up to something,” he said.

  “I’ll bet you think everyone is up to something, right?”

  “And I’d be right.”

  “Were you this suspicious before you became a cop?”

  “I come from a long line of law enforcement officers.”

  “So the answer is yes.”

  “You’ve met Buddy. He isn’t exactly trusting.”

  “Granted. But my grandmother has helped him see the silver lining in life.”

  Logan didn’t look convinced.

  “You don’t think that’s possible?” she said.

  “To turn my grandfather into an optimist? Maybe where a slot machine is concerned.”

  “I can’t believe he had a quickie marriage in Las Vegas and never had it annulled.”

  “He meant to. He’s the first to admit he’s not good with paperwork.”

  “Yes, but this was important.”

  “Cut the guy a break, would you?” Logan said. “Nobody is perfect. Not even you.”

  “What are you insinuating?”

  “That you think you’re smarter, better than ...”

  “Than Pepper? Than Rowdy or Chuck? You’rethe one who’s been putting them down.”

  “You like them because they have good stories,” he said. “You’re a librarian. You like stories. Fiction is your thing.”

  “And distrusting people is your thing?”

  His expression darkened. “If you’d seen the things I’ve seen . . . Never mind.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply that you haven’t been exposed to some awful things.”

  “Forget it.”

  “Can you? Can you forget it?”

  Logan didn’t answer her question. “So you and Pepper bonded over a bunch of dresses, huh?”

  “I guess you could say that. Anyway, I think I’ll take a shower and change.”

  “I thought you were going to take a nap. I thought that’s why you sat on the bed before. I didn’t mean to spook you. Here, you can have it all to yourself.” He climbed out of bed. “I can go sit in the chair.”

  “No, that’s okay. I really need to get out of this dress.” Right. That
got her thinking of him helping her disrobe. Thankfully he didn’t offer his help. “I got an oversized T-shirt and some other stuff from the gift shop.” She picked up a plastic bag from near the door.

  “They have a gift shop?”

  She nodded. “There’s not a lot of selection.” She pulled the T-shirt from the bag and held it up.

  “I Had Fun in Last Resort,” he read. “I don’t suppose the phones are in working order yet?”

  “Not yet. Pepper said sometimes they go out for twenty-four hours at a time.”

  “Did she tell you how many people supposedly live in this place?”

  “No. The subject didn’t come up.”

  “Too busy talking about clothes, huh?”

  “And local history.”

  “Wow, edge-of-your-seat stuff,” he drawled.

  “I thought it was. You probably wouldn’t agree.”

  “Try me.”

  “Well, Fritz Holzenberger founded the town in the 1880s.”

  “And he named it Last Resort because Holzenberger was too long for a town’s name?”

  “No. He named it after a silver mine he owned: the Last Resort Silver Mine.”

  “It’s a weird name.”

  “This area is full of strange names. Things could have been worse. The town could have been called Pickhandle Gulch. That town went belly-up.”

  “What a shame.”

  She giggled. “Yeah, I thought so.” Her smile faded. “I don’t even know if my mother has a sense of humor.”

  “Are mathematicians known for their sense of humor?”

  “My dad has one. It’s sort of a Thurber sense of humor. That’s one of his favorite short-story writers.”

  “You really do need to sit down with your dad when you get back to Las Vegas and get the whole story.” He held up his hand to quiet her protest. “I know, I know, you don’t think he’ll tell you the truth. But he might. And you won’t know that until you confront him.”

  She pulled the photos of her mother out of her clutch bag and studied the young woman in them. “She looks so young. I can’t believe she was at Woodstock. My mom, the hippie.” She shook her head. “The question is, where is she now? Any why is she so hard to track down? Do you think my dad did that? Covered her tracks so she couldn’t be found?”

  “West Investigations is a big fish in Chicago, but there’s no way they have the kind of power to erase data on the Internet.”

  “What if she’s in the Witness Protection Program or something?”

  He shook his head. “Jeez, you do have an active imagination. First you worry that she’s going to somehow die before you find her and now you think she’s in the Witness Protection Program. What’s next, that she’s been abducted by aliens?”

  “How far arewe from Roswell?”

  “That’s in New Mexico and we’re far enough away.”

  “Don’t worry,” she said. “I’m not that hysterical. I’m not hysterical at all. I think I’ve been very calm, considering the things I’ve been through in the past twenty-four hours. A wedding, a crazy man trying to break up the wedding—”

  “Hey, I’m not crazy—”

  “I didn’t know that at the time,” she said before continuing to list her experiences.“The discovery that my grandmother’s fiancé already has a wife, the discovery that my dead mother is alive after all, my first visit to a Nevada brothel, and now I’m marooned in a semi-ghost town and a motel with only one bed.”

  “I can sleep in the car.”

  “Are you protecting my honor or your car?” she asked.

  “It’s not my car. It’s my buddy’s car. He trusted me to take care of it.’

  “Are you afraid someone is going to vandalize it or steal it? Last Resort doesn’t seem like a high-crime area.”

  “Looks can be deceiving.”

  His ominous words stayed with her as she showered in the tiny bathroom. The pink tile around the tub was vintage but the toilet and sink were new. The towels were surprisingly soft and thick. The T-shirt went down to her knees and a pair of shorts took the place of her lacy black underwear, which she’d washed and left hanging to dry on the shower rod.

  When she’d put them on yesterday afternoon, she’d never dreamed that she’d end up taking them off in the Queen of Hearts Motel in Last Resort with a sexy half-naked man of the other side of the bathroom door.

  There was no way she could have anticipated the things that had happened to her in such a short time. Wiping the steam from the mirror, she stared at her reflection. Her wet hair curled damply around her shoulders, and her freckles stood out on her flushed cheeks. She looked like what she was . . . the girl next door. She tugged the baggy T-shirt off one shoulder and tried to strike a pose like Pepper had. The result made her crack up. No, she was definitely not sex kitten material.

  Logan knocked on the door. “You okay in there?”

  “Yeah.” She turned the lock and stepped out. Her floral flip-flops were from the gift shop and went with her present outfit better than her other shoes.

  “I heard you laughing in there. What was so funny?”

  “Me.” She pointed to herself.

  Logan eyed her from head to toe. She didn’t see a smidge of humor in his gaze. Instead, there was plenty of heat and sexual tension. He’d told her that looks could be deceiving, but he hadn’t warned her that hislooks at her could be downright heart-stopping.

  That’s when Megan realized she was in danger of having her heart stolen, and that was a felony she simply couldn’t risk.

  Chapter Seven

  A three-hour nap had Megan feeling a little rested but still somewhat on the groggy side. Before she’d fallen asleep, Logan had muttered something about a recon mission to check out their surroundings and left her on her own.

  She sat up as he returned to the room.

  “I didn’t mean to wake you,” he said.

  “You didn’t. What did you find out?”

  “That we are definitely in the twilight zone.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I didn’t see anyone but Rowdy, Chuck and Pepper.”

  “Maybe it’s siesta time. People were in their houses taking naps like I was.”

  “I didn’t go around knocking on doors,” he admitted. “But the place looks deserted.”

  “Ah, but as you recently pointed out to me, looks can be deceiving.”

  “Rowdy wants us to join them in the café for dinner.”

  “Okay.” She tossed back the covers. “I hope it’s okay that I put a suitcase in the car earlier. It’s filled with the clothes I bought from Pepper.” She’d kept one outfit aside to wear this evening. She hurried into the bathroom to change, aware of Logan’s watchful gaze as she paused to grab the clothes on her way. Her fast-drying underwear, which she’d left hanging in the bathroom, were ready to put on again. The jumper and a white shirt Pepper had tossed in at the last minute showed less skin than most of the outfits.

  Yet the minute she stepped out of the bathroom, Logan eyed her and murmured, “Very sexy.”

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  He raised an eyebrow with pseudo-innocence. “You could always put the T-shirt and boxer shorts back on again. I was a fan of that look too.”

  “I’m starting to think you’re a fan of women, period.”

  “Something wrong with that?”

  “With the fact that you’re a player?”

  “I never said I was a player. A player would try to seduce you . . . like this.” Bracing his hands against the wall on either side of her, Logan effectively boxed her in and caged her in his arms. “And then I’d try to make a move on you . . . like this.” He leaned closer until his lips almost touched hers. “But I’m not doing that.” His warm breath bounced off her mouth.

  “You’re not?”

  He shook his head and back away. “No.”

  “Why not?” Wait, that hadn’t come out right. She shook her head to clear it. She’d heard of the
good cop/ bad cop routine, but hadn’t heard about the seductive cop routine. And, wow, was Logan good at it. Clearly he was able to switch it on and off at will. The way he was wickedly grinning at her was proof of that. “I mean . . . never mind what I meant. Let’s go eat.”

  Logan started his interrogation of Last Resort’s trio of residents the minute he entered the café. Seductive cop had been replaced with inquisition cop. “Any luck with the phones yet?” Logan asked Pepper.

  “Not yet.”

  “You know, you never actually said how many people reside in Last Resort now.”

  Pepper just shrugged and said, “I’m not good with numbers.”

  Logan turned his attention to Rowdy, who grinned and slapped him on the back. “Just relax and enjoy a good burger. How do you like yours?”

  “Why is it so hard to get a straight answer out of you?” Logan said.

  “Why are you so curious?” Rowdy retorted.

  Logan narrowed his eyes at him. “Because something’s not right.”

  “I’ll tell you what’s not right,” Pepper said. “That some towns have actually had to disappear entirely because everyone left. Why, they’ve even had to sell some small towns. Coaldale was for sale—lock, stock and barrel.”

  “Of course, it was in a movie in the early ’90s and it had an airstrip, so that made it more appealing,” Rowdy added.

  “We haven’t put Last Resort up on the auction block. We’re working hard to keep this town alive. We don’t give up easily here in Nevada. We persist through drought and indifference.” Pepper paused to grin. “Don’t you love the way those two words sound together? I read that someplace and always remembered it. Well, not where I read it, but the two words. We’re a tough bunch in these parts.”

  “And creative,” Rowdy added. “Chuck is going to update our website.”

  “I have a grandson who’s great with computers and Photoshop,” Chuck said.

  “He’s phenomenal!” Pepper’s voice rose several decibel levels.

  “Can you tell Pepper is a big fan of Mary Murphy, aka the Queen of Screams, the judge from that TV show So You Think You Can Dance?” Chuck said. “Pepper can mimic her voice perfectly.”

  “Getting back to the website. We should play up the fact that the Last Resort Silver Mine is rumored to be haunted,” Rowdy said.