by Zoey Parker
There was a pause, then Peter said, “Well, I might have something. It’s not a lot, but—”
“What is it?” Hope grew suddenly in my chest. All I needed was a name, a number, a fucking car color. Just something to go on.
“Well, that asshole was flirting with one of my girls.” Peter called all of his waitresses his ‘girls.’ Although maybe it was one of those insulting things for women of this day and age, I could never tell myself, he meant it affectionately. He hired the prettiest damn women he could find, young and flirty, because he wanted the customers to like them. But he wouldn’t let a single finger touch them if they didn’t want it. Peter was fiercely protective to the point where he’d started fights and kicked people out without answer or explanation. I appreciated that about him. “He was a little prick and I warned the girl off, but you know the rules. If they want it, it’s on them.” I could almost hear him shrug.
“And?” I prompted.
“Didn’t really think anything of it,” he admitted thoughtfully. “Figured she just wanted a better tip, that she was flirting and he wouldn’t take her seriously anyway, you know? Most of the guys come here knowing that the girls don’t really want them.”
I nodded impatiently as I grabbed a shirt out of my closet—a black button- down, silky to the touch. He couldn’t see me, for which I was glad. I didn’t want to explain why I was so on edge these days. “What’re you getting at, Pete?”
“I’m trying to say he slipped her a napkin. She normally doesn’t keep shit like that, but for whatever reason she snuck it in her apron and forgot about it. Pulled it out today before her shift started.”
“And what was on that napkin?”
“A name and a number.”
***
That little napkin was a proverbial jackpot. From what I understood from Peter, he’d had to wrestle it away from his girl after the fact. It wasn’t that she probably really wanted it, but rather the fact that he was insisting she give it up that had her so annoyed. Peter was sort of like an overbearing father sometimes to his girls, and every so often they rebelled against him for it.
He won out, though, and if I had to guess, I would say that he told her a slice of the truth about the guy: he was into some bad shit and he was probably going to die very soon.
When I got there—because I didn’t just want the napkin, I wanted to talk to the girl, too—I greeted Peter and asked his permission to talk to her. Apparently, her name was Kendall. He was hesitant, but gave the okay. I knew he’d be watching like a hawk, but it didn’t bother me. I wasn’t going to do anything unsavory to the girl; I just wanted answers.
“You mind if I ask you a few things about the other night?”
She eyed me suspiciously. “You a cop?”
I almost laughed at her, but held it back just barely. Instead, I offered a smile that was probably a little wolfish. She shrank back just slightly into her seat. “No, I’m not. Though I am trying to make sure certain…bad guys stay off the streets. Think you can help?”
She thought about it. “Will I have to testify or something? Do crazy stuff for the police? Get involved?”
I shook my head. Clearly, Kendall had had some unfortunate dealings with the police before, because she looked pretty nervous at first. At my answer, however, she seemed to relax slightly. “I just want to know what he said to you.”
“Okay,” she said, still hesitant, but not seeming near as nervous as when I first approached her. “Well, I was their waitress—there were two guys at the table. They were kind of rowdy, celebrating something.”
“Do you know what?”
She lifted her petite shoulders in a shrug, pushing her breasts together so they looked like they might pop out of her shirt at any moment. She was cute, if a little young—I’d be surprised if she were actually twenty-one, if I was being honest—and almost reminded me of Madeline. She had an almost wholesome look about her, though it was destroyed by the heavy eyeliner and mascara. “Something about a windfall, you know? Lots of money coming in. That was how that guy was trying to pick me up.”
“By telling you they were rich?” I prompted.
She nodded. “Yeah, like I’d believe that. Do I look like I was born yesterday?”
Not quite, but almost. I didn’t tell her that however. “You didn’t buy it?”
“No way.” She shook her head. “They looked like total shmucks. Old jeans, dirty shirts. Looked like they were in construction or something. But they had enough to pay, so I made a point to be nice.” She shrugged again.
“What were their names?”
“I don’t know about the blond guy—blondes aren’t really my thing—but the brunette said his name was Joshua. I never got a last name.”
Joshua. Well, it wasn’t a lot to go on, but it was something. I could check it against other people Logan was known to have worked with over the years. Maybe something would come up. And if that number were real, it would be a big help.
I smiled warmly at the girl. “Thank you, Kendall. That was very helpful.” I got up to leave, then paused, considering her. She did remind me of Madeline. I frowned. “Do yourself a favor, Kendall. If you see that guy again, stay away from him. He’s trouble.”
She shuddered and I remembered Peter had already told her much the same. Without saying a word of protest, she nodded. I got the napkin with the name and number form Peter, then thanked him and left. Hopefully, I would finally get somewhere with all of this.
***
As it turned out, the number was a bit of a bust. Clearly, this Joshua guy had hoped to take her home that night without the muss and fuss of calling or being called later. Already I didn’t like the guy. Though I never intended to have a permanent relationship, I had also never led a woman on to believe there was a chance for that.
What about Madeline? I thought before I could stop it.
I shook my head. I had never meant to do anything along those lines with Madeline. The whole thing had been a bit of a mistake—even though I couldn’t really bring myself to feel regret for it.
I did get some information about Joshua, though. He had a rap sheet with the police already. Petty things, mostly. Shoplifting, breaking and entering, though nothing with the families at home. There weren’t any violent crimes on there, though there was a pending charge of grand theft auto. I wondered if he’d actually show up for that one. Really, I was surprised he’d made bail at all.
Unfortunately, the report didn’t give me anything to go on. The address was a phony, the residents of the place never even hearing of a Joshua, and from there the thing dead-ended.
It was frustrating to say the least.
I was about to go back to Peter to see if there was something I might have missed, when I got a call from a friend of mine. Sergei worked for Zackary, but he occasionally helped out the other two Wise Guys for the right price. Zackary was generous with his personnel—so long as he liked you. I was lucky; he liked me.
Sergei was one of those guys who looked squeaky clean from the outside and was probably the dirtiest rat out there if you knew him from the inside. He worked for security companies and had never been arrested for anything in his life. No one had even gone sniffing around him, which was impressive when he happened to be the guy who got a very well protected man killed when Zackary asked him to.
Today, I was surprised to get a call from him. It was a good surprise, though; I definitely wasn’t complaining.
“Sergei, to what do I owe the pleasure?”
I heard the grin in Sergei’s voice as he answered, “I heard you’re having a little trouble with a job. Finding someone?”
I rolled my eyes. Sergei was a good man. I even liked him, but he was cocky and liked to rib me whenever he got the chance. “I’ll find him eventually. I’m still following up on leads.” My pride made me sound like I had some hope of finding Logan, when really, I didn’t have a clue anymore. Just a red truck, a name, and a moronic partner.
“Oh, really? Well, then
I guess you don’t need a GPS trace on that pretty red truck of his, do you?” I could hear the sparkling tone of Sergei’s voice and it might have irritated me, but I was so thrilled to hear the words that I didn’t care. I wanted this job over with and was getting more and more impatient the longer it dragged out.
“You’re a genius, Sergei. Genius.”
“That’s what I’ve been saying for years!” he answered with a laugh.
“Do you know where it is now?” I asked him, eager to get started, to catch up.
“Yeah, he’s heading east on the highway right now. Closest thing I can tell around there, given the direction he’s moving, is a small town about two hundred or so miles. Take him about an hour to get there if the speed stays consistent.”
He rattled off the name of the town and I thanked him. I told him to keep tracking the truck, to let me know if anything changed or if they stopped. Eagerness and excitement raced through me. I was finally close. Logan was within my grasp and I would finally be done with this. After he was taken care of, I could figure out what I was going to do with Madeline. I could work on convincing her that she was mine, that I would be the one to take care of that baby, and when she understood that, she could admit to me and herself that the baby was mine.
I knew she was lying; there was no other explanation.
Holstering my gun in my shoulder harness, I slipped into my car. It was time to find Logan and end him once and for all.
Chapter 23
Madeline
A loud sound startled me awake. At first, I couldn’t make out what it was, but after a moment I realized there was a stream of light peeking through the door and sliding across the hardwood floors of my apartment. I hadn’t bothered to close the curtain that separated my impromptu bedroom from the rest of the place, so I could see clearly now that the reason there was unexpected light was that my door was open.
Panic swept me.
After the last few days, I’d realized there were very bad people out there. People who killed for money and maybe for fun. People who didn’t care about wrecking lives, so long as they got what they wanted.
What if this was one of those people now? I shuddered at the thought and tried to come up with a plan as to what I should do as I lay there huddled up in bed beneath the covers. I didn’t want to move in case whoever was there was just looking for stuff to steal—they’d quickly realize that my apartment had nothing of value and leave, I figured, so I’d be safer just pretending to be asleep. But as a shadow crossed over that sudden light, moving towards me, I realized they were definitely not looking for something to steal. No, in fact, they were headed straight for me.
My stomach clenched with panic and indecision. What should I do? Jump up and try to make a run for it? I heard the clomping of footsteps as whoever it was came closer and closer. Should I grab my bedside lamp or the clock and try to fight him off? He was getting closer and now I could hear almost ragged breathing.
Finally, I had decided that I would wait for him to move around to the other side of the bed, still hoping he was trying to look for stuff to steal, and then I would make a run for it. The door was still open, so maybe I could get to it and run screaming down the halls. If I attracted enough attention from my neighbors, maybe one of them would open the door and let me in, or at the very least call the cops.
I waited, pretending to be asleep. I forced my breathing to be even, though my heart pounded like a jackhammer in my chest. My muscles tensed and tried to cramp as I forced them to lie still, even though all I wanted to do was run.
Finally, he was getting close. He’d reached the edge of the bed—I couldn’t see him, but his shadow was long and the footsteps were heavy. I waited with baited breath to see if he would round the corner towards the closet, but he didn’t. A second later I felt his shadow cross over me completely, could hear him breathing much too near, and knew he was standing, hovering right over me as I lay in my bed.
My plan was shot down. He was on the wrong side of the bed and if I tried to run, he’d surely grab me. I’d have to fight him. I steeled myself as I prepared to make a grab for the lamp and hit him over the head with it. But before I got the chance, I felt his hands wrap around my upper arms and shake me awake. At the same time, he said, “Madeline? Wake up. We need to go.”
My eyes jerked open in surprise as I recognized whose voice that was. “Shawn? Oh, my god! You scared me half to death! I thought you were a burglar or a rapist or something.”
I thought maybe he’d laugh or tell me I was paranoid, but his gaze remained serious, worried. I thought there was a hint of fear behind his brown eyes and it sent a shiver of panic down through me again.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, glancing over at the clock at my bedside table. It was nearly three in the morning; he shouldn’t be here.
“We’ve got to go,” he told me again, and for the first time I realized that he didn’t look quite right. I reached over for the bedside table, fumbling for the lamp switch, then flicked it on once I’d found it. I gasped at what I saw.
There were scattered bruises marking Shawn’s jaw and neck, as though someone had wrapped their hands around his throat and squeezed. Maybe even tried to strangle him to death! “Oh god! What happened?”
His eyes were definitely filled with fear, I decided, and he was agitated, fidgety. Like he couldn’t sit still for fear of something finding him if he stayed in one spot for too long. He glanced over his shoulder, suddenly sure someone was behind him. He seemed to search my bare, tiny apartment for a full minute before turning back to me. “Do you know what’s going on with your brother?” he asked me instead of answering my question.
I blinked at him in surprise. “How do you know?”
He looked away guiltily, scratching at the back of his head. “Logan, uh, well, he asked me for help.”
I frowned at him. Help? When had they talked? I’d only just found out about what was going on! But then, I was Logan’s sister, not his friend and while Shawn had always been my best friend, we’d all spent a lot of time together. And in high school, Logan had gotten Shawn to do a lot of reckless, crazy stuff. I shouldn’t have been so surprised that he would have confided in him before me.
Especially if he’s done something wrong, I thought before I could stop myself.
Shaking my head, I said, “Did he tell you everything?” I wondered if he’d mentioned Nikolai.
For a moment, Shawn’s face was strangely blank. It was almost as though he were trying to wipe it clean so I wouldn’t be able to read his face and know what was really going on. But that was ridiculous; this was Shawn. He told me everything. But then I reminded myself that he probably thought the same thing of me, but wasn’t I keeping things from him?
The moment passed and Shawn finally answered me. “He told me enough. Enough to know that there’s some maniac out to get him. That Nikolai guy.”
I bit my lip. Falling asleep had given me a reprieve from all this crazy stuff and I’d been so grateful for it. Now that I was awake again, it all came crashing back. How my brother had told me to go into hiding. How Nikolai had looked so angry. How I had a terrible feeling that my brother really had done something awful—maybe even what Nikolai had accused him of.
Sleep had given me some rest and a break from all of it, but it hadn’t given me answers.
Before I could start to panic about what I would do, however, Shawn continued. “He’s crazy, Madeline. Crazy!” He grabbed me by the shoulders harshly and shook. It scared me a little bit and I found myself recoiling. He seemed to get a hold of himself, though, and released my arms with a quick apology. “Sorry, I just need you to know how bad things are. That you’re in danger.”
I winced a little. Things were bad, but I wanted to tell him they were bad for Logan. Yes, I was his sister and whatever he’d done had clearly pissed off the wrong people, but I wanted to tell Shawn that Nikolai wasn’t after me. I didn’t have anything to do with it and, in all honesty, I was certain that Nikola
i, while he didn’t want anything more to do with me now thanks to my lie, wouldn’t come after me. Not even to get to Logan.
“We’ve got to get out of here. I ran into Nikolai—look what he did to me!” He gestured towards his neck and my eyes widened in horror.
Nikolai had done that? A sudden chill ran through me and I hugged myself. Although I knew he was a hit man, some part of me had been convinced he was somehow…not violent. It was stupid and naïve, but I wanted to believe he was some sort of noble bringer of justice. Seeing those bruises on Shawn’s face brought the truth crashing down around me.
He was nothing more than a terrible, murdering, violent man.
“He demanded to know where your brother was, but, Madeline, I wouldn’t tell him. I swear I wouldn’t! He was so angry, but I held my ground!” Shawn was speaking quickly, his eyes alight, his face flushed. “He told me he’d be back, that I had one more chance and when he was back I’d better tell him where Logan was, or I’d be dead.” He hesitated, looked me over in a strange way, then finally said the rest of his story. “He told me I had a chance to walk away from this, but Logan’s fate was sealed—and so was yours.”