Embattled Return (Lost And Found Book 6)

by J. M. Madden

  She nodded and turned to wave at Ember. Before she could drop a card, Logan handed his over. “You hauled my ass around all day and listened to me whine. I’ll get dinner.”

  After a few minutes, Ember returned his card, and they slid out of the chairs. His joints had stiffened and it took him a minute to get moving. With a final wave at Zeke and Ember, they left the Frog Dog.

  Logan appreciated having a driver. Marigold turned on a soft rock station on the way back to the hotel. “I’ll let them know I’m checking out in the morning. What’s the actual address of the house.”

  “I can come get you. Shannon probably won’t need me till afternoon.”

  “I’m taking up a lot of your time, it seems like.”

  She shrugged, her face lit by the dash lights. “I’m not really doing a lot right now anyway.”

  “Okay. If you’re sure.”

  They didn’t say anything else as she drove downtown. When she pulled into the loop to drop him off, she rested a hand on his arm. “I think Miller’s mom will be happy to see you.”

  Logan hummed in his throat. “We’ll see. Thanks, Marigold. Good night.”

  “Good night.”

  Gathering his bag of books, he pushed up out of the car, using his crutches to brace himself. Then, slamming the door, he walked into the hotel. Glancing back, he caught the flare of her tail- lights as she pulled away.

  12

  John rocked back in his seat, frustration gnawing at his guts. It wasn’t very often that he was unable to unravel a mystery, but this could possibly be one of them.

  For three days he’d been milking every resource he had to find Logan Vance’s family, and he’d hit dead end after dead end. There were people with the same name, of course, and he’d actually resorted to cold-calling a few, but none matched the exact details Logan had given him. The kid was coming to the office in a couple of hours, and he didn’t know what to tell him.

  He looked up at a knock on his open door. Aiden stood there, frown marring his lean face. John smiled. “What’s up, brother?”

  Aiden’s face eased into a matching smile, but within seconds the worry returned. “Do you remember Shannon having a lot of morning sickness?”

  Nodding, he swiveled to the left to the coffee machine Shannon had brought in a few weeks ago. He plugged a K-cup into the reservoir and watched the coffee stream into the clean cup. When it was done, he added some creamer and handed it to Aiden. “Yes. For the first three months it seemed like she lived in the bathroom. Not always throwing up, but nauseated. Angela still struggling with it?”

  Aiden nodded. “She’s lost more weight than she should. The baby is growing, but it’s almost like it’s eating her from the inside.”

  Grimacing, John turned back to the desk with his own cup of coffee. “It’s a stereotype for a reason. Ginger Ale and saltines. That’s all I can tell you. I bought tons of the stuff for her. If Elizabeth thinks she’s losing too much weight they’ll hospitalize her. Shannon’s mother also made her ginger rice, which seemed to help.”

  Aiden pulled his phone from his pocket. “Do you have the recipe or is it something I can find?”

  “I think it’s on the net,” John said slowly, turning to his keyboard. “Yep. I’ll email you this recipe. It has almost five stars. Ask Shannon on your way out. Maybe she’ll have a variation, too.”

  With a few keystrokes he sent the link to Aiden’s email. “I wish my other cases were that easy.”

  Brows raised, Aiden settled into the chair across from his desk, coffee cup balancing on the arm. “What’s not going well?”

  Sighing, John looked down at the notes on his desk. “This Logan Vance thing. I’m trying to find this kid’s family but I’m really striking out. I’ve checked the newspapers, the PVA, the DMV, every public access option I have. I’ve logged onto the public library system to scan their older microfiche, which has not all been computerized yet. I even called in a favor from a friend looking for Christopher Vance’s military record and there is none. I’ve completely tapped out my options. I don’t know what else to do, or where to search.”

  He handed the file he had over to Aiden and watched as his brother flipped through page after page of information. “Are you sure the old family name is Walter?”

  John scowled. “That’s the name he gave me. A few other things popped up for other names and I researched them a bit, but I didn’t deep dive yet. That’s my only option left.”

  “I feel like...” Aiden frowned, and his mouth skewed to the side, “it’s not Walter. It’s something else. Walken. Walker. Showalter.”

  John jotted the notes down, having learned that his brother’s gut feelings were often on the money and not to be discounted. “I’ll check those out. I have nothing to lose. I feel like I’m disappointing this kid, and I don’t like feeling like that.”

  “None of us do,” Aiden said softly, handing the folder back to him. “As soon as I get back to Arlington, I’ll try the ginger rice.”

  Damn. He’d forgotten Aiden was leaving tonight. He’d come out to Denver to pack up Angela’s apartment. They were both working at the Silverstone Collaborative now, with Wulfe and Fontana. They were trying to develop a program for the men that were recovering from the illegal testing the company had put them through. Aiden had wanted to be here to see the paperwork signed on the new partnership, though, and to catch up with everyone for a bit. Angela had chosen to stay in Arlington and let Aiden pack up the apartment for her. She must really be sick, John realized.

  “The sickness should ease the further along in her pregnancy she is,” John told him hopefully.

  “I know. That’s what everyone has said, but she’s six and a half months now. I don’t know if it’s because it’s my baby and there’s something... not right, or...”

  John wheeled around the desk to look his brother in the eye. “You know that’s not the case.”

  Aiden shook his head, looking down at his clasped hands. “It could be. There have been no other babies born to any of the Dogs of War. How do I know that the ayahuasca in my body hasn’t done something to the baby?”

  John flinched internally. This had been a concern Duncan and Alex had brought up at one of the meetings, but no one had wanted to voice it to Aiden. Instead, Alex had called Elizabeth, Wulfe’s wife and the new owner of the Collaborative. She was a doctor and had personally taken over the care of the former prisoners.

  Elizabeth had already been preparing for the issue, stocking the Elton Recovery Building with everything they might need for a baby, including an on-call OBGYN. Duncan felt like Angela was under the best care possible.

  That didn’t ease the worried father’s mind, though. John reached out, resting a hand on Aiden’s shoulder. “It will be okay,” John said bracingly. “He’s going to be a Palmer, kind of. There aren’t twins, are there?”

  Aiden went pale at the thought and swayed in the chair. John held on to him just to be sure he didn’t topple over, truly alarmed. “Aiden, I was joking. They would have seen it on the ultrasound. She’s had one, right?”

  His younger brother nodded, eyes devastated. “Yes, they have. Several of them.”

  “Then she’s probably okay. The morning sickness is just one of those things that goes along with pregnancy.”

  Aiden sighed. “I know you’re probably right. I just worry. She’s led a healthy life, but I’ve had so much shit pumped into me over the years. I don’t know what I might be cursing my child to.”

  John’s heart ached for the guy. “But you’ve recovered from everything. Literally. If anything, I think this kid will be stronger than any of us,” he laughed.

  Dragging in another heavy breath, Aiden nodded. “Yeah, you’re probably right. I just can’t shut off my brain, though, you know? And I don’t get any of my normal feelings when I’m with her.”

  Ah, that was part of it. Aiden was known to be especially sensitive, and if he got one of his ‘gut feelings’, ninety-nine percent of the time it was rig
ht. If there was a wall there that he couldn’t break through, John could understand why he would be worried. “I think you’re spoiled,” he joked. “You’re so used to having the upper hand you’re not used to being normal.”

  Wincing, Aiden gave him a smile. “Maybe a little,” he admitted. “Well, I’m going to tell my gorgeous sister-in-law that I’m heading out. I’ll text you when I make it home.”

  “Thanks for that,” John told him seriously. “I like to know where my little brother is and that he’s okay.”

  Aiden pushed to his feet, then leaned down and gave John a back-slapping hug. “See you, brother.”

  John waved as Aiden stepped out of the office. He hadn’t been joking about knowing where he was and that he was okay. Now that he’d located his brother, he wanted to make sure that he stayed healthy and safe. Even the former prisoners could be a danger to him, but John had to have faith that Aiden knew what he was doing. He wasn’t a child. Hadn’t been for a long time.

  Forcing his attention back to the screen, he started chasing possibilities. Within seconds, he latched onto a possibility. Thank you, Aiden, John thought, laughing to himself.

  When John rolled out to Shannon’s desk almost two hours later, he was bursting with information. “I thought Logan was supposed to be here? I have news for him.”

  Her vivid hazel eyes lit up. “Did you find his family?”

  He gave her a nod and leaned in for a kiss. “I did. And even better, they’ve been looking for him.”

  Tears filled her eyes. “Oh, my gosh! He needs that. I don’t know a lot of his story but life has been crapping on him, bad. He needs hope and connection, and an anchor. He needs community, because I can tell he feels so alone.”

  John nodded. That’s exactly what he’d gotten from the guy, too. “We can’t force it on him, but we can offer it. Even though I’ve found the family, he may not follow through on connecting.”

  Shannon’s face fell. “That would be such a waste.”

  John shrugged, not liking the thought either. “He has no one else so I hope he’ll latch onto this. Has he called or messaged you?”

  She nodded. “Marigold messaged me. She’s helping him move his stuff into Grandma Nancy’s house.”

  “Fucking Fudge,” he breathed. “It’s hard to tell when he’ll be here, then.”

  Shannon gave him a narrow eyed look at the language. “Marigold promised she’d be here by noon to help me with a few things, and I’ll make sure she’ll give Logan a ride.”

  John blinked, tilting his head. “Are they...”

  Shannon shrugged, but he could tell by the shine in her eyes that she hoped something would happen between the two younger people. She was such a damn romantic. Just one of the many things he loved about her. “I love you, Shannon.”

  “I love you too, babe,” she breathed, leaning forward for his kiss.

  “Come on, you two. Don’t you have a house to do that?”

  They looked up at Duncan standing in his office doorway. “Yes,” John said, “but it’s overrun with mouthy critters and it’s hard to get my wife alone.”

  Duncan laughed. “They’re your critters. And if they’re mouthy I’m sure that’s your fault as well. ”

  “I know,” John growled, pulling back from Shannon. “Hey, I’ve had a break on the Vance case.”

  John explained about Aiden’s theory and the path it led him down.

  “So, Aiden broke the case,” Duncan murmured, giving John a probing look over the top of his glasses.

  John scowled. “No, he didn’t fucking break the case. He might have given me a little insight, but he didn’t break it.”

  Duncan laughed, leaning against the door jamb. “Whatever you say, John.”

  He looked at Shannon and remembered what she’d asked. “Hey, Dunc, any chance we need another investigator? Or an intern or something?”

  Duncan didn’t hesitate. “Sure. What’s he good at?”

  “Military intelligence. Don’t know much more than that yet, but he needs something. I, we,” he said, glancing at Shannon, “think he needs community. Sounds like horse shit coming out of my mouth, but I’ve learned to appreciate it myself.”

  “I think we all have,” Duncan said, eyes flicking back through the line of busy offices.

  Yes, they’d all grown in the past several years.

  “We’ll be a little short-staffed anyway with Rachel going off for maternity leave,” Shannon reminded them.

  John felt better about offering Logan the job then. “Where is this fucking guy? I want to change his life today.”

  They laughed, but John actually meant what he said.

  An hour later, Logan knocked on John’s open office door, leaning heavily on his crutches. He knew he looked a little rough around the edges.

  “Come on in,” John told him, frowning. “You okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m all right.” Logan half-walked to the chair. His arms were killing him, but not as bad as his right leg. “I took a header earlier. I don’t know if Marigold told you but I’m staying at Nancy Marshall’s apartment house. Anyway, my crutch caught on a rug and down I went.”

  John groaned sympathetically. “Been there, done that. Rugs were created by the devil. Knowing Nancy, she’ll have every single rug out of there by mid-day.”

  “You know the Jesus juice lady?” Logan asked, settling to the chair seat. He forced a grin for John, though his thigh blazed like fire.

  John, looking bright-eyed and disgustingly healthy, nodded once. “We did a job for her a few years ago. Since then, we’ve called on her occasionally to house a guest. She’s a sweetheart.”

  Logan knew she was. The woman was the epitome of the grandmother every boy dreamed of having. Marigold doted on her and just from listening to their conversation, he’d realized that Marigold didn’t have a lot of family either since her mother had died in Arizona the previous year. Her own grandmother was traveling overseas, somewhere.

  Nancy doted on Marigold as well, calling her Mari, and she’d insisted to them both that they were welcome to call her Grandma.

  That had taken Logan off guard. It felt like she was adopting him, almost. And the way she’d looked at him... like he was a long-lost grandson or something. Throat tight, he’d nodded, but he hadn’t been able to answer her. He’d turned to go into the room and his crutch rubber had dragged on a floor mat. Down he’d gone.

  Nothing like crashing to the floor in front of two women, because of course Marigold had been dragging in his bag for him.

  One glowering look and they’d left him alone to get to his feet by himself. Marigold had skirted around him and lifted his big bag onto the bed so that he could unpack. Nancy had picked up the pretty, cursed rug and whisked it away.

  He’d gotten to his feet, but he was sure it hadn’t been pretty. Two pain pills later he was still pissed at that fucking rug. Marigold hadn’t said a word about him crashing, though, which he appreciated. She’d focused on other things and eventually left to let him settle in, closing the door behind herself.

  Half an hour later Marigold had come back, a broad smile on her face, telling him that Shannon had messaged her and that John had news. So, they’d hopped in her Beetle and headed to the industrial area where the LNF offices were located. The entire time he’d been fighting anxiety, his brain racing through possibilities. He could just say fuck it and have Marigold take him somewhere to forget.

  He felt...discombobulated sitting here. Part of it was the pain pills, but his emotions were kind of pinging around as well. There was trepidation and excitement as he waited to hear what John had found. He was afraid to get his hopes up, because he’d been disappointed so many times before.

  “Can I get you a coffee?”

  “Yeah. With sugar if you have it.” Anything to delay.

  John spun his chair around and retrieved a cup of coffee, setting it on the edge of the desk in front of Logan with a couple of packets of sugar and a short straw to stir it with. Even though
it was scalding hot, Logan stirred in the sugar and took a sip, praying that the caffeine would kick in as quickly as possible because he seriously needed the boost.

  “Okay, I’m ready,” he said, mentally bracing himself.

  John set his own cup of coffee aside and pulled a manila folder in front of himself. “Okay, so, my brother stopped in and he has to get a bit of the credit. He didn’t feel like the name was right.”

  Logan frowned. “What do you mean? It’s the name my father gave me.”

  John shook his head. “It’s a long story. Not important right this second. Anyway, I started searching variations on the name you gave me. I was striking out completely with Walter. I literally searched every public and a few not-so-public databases for the name. It just wasn’t there. When I searched SHOWalter, though, I started ringing brass. Everything matched up. But this is the important part.”

  He handed over a paper. Logan took it, not understanding what he was looking at.

  “That is a message board post connected to a popular ancestry website. Someone in the family has been looking for you,” John said softly.

  Looking for my grandkids, two boys and a girl. Son and I had a falling out October of ‘99 and he left. Haven’t spoken to him in twenty years. Kids names are/were Jana, Logan and Clinton.

  The message gave their dates of birth, as well as the names of his mother and father. There was an email address.

  “Did you email them?” Logan demanded.

  John shook his head. “No, not yet. I thought you might want to do that.”

  Logan slumped in the chair, the paper shaking in his trembling hand. After all these years... he looked at the date on the message. “This was posted ten years ago. Do you think it’s still a viable email?”

  John shrugged. “It looks viable, but I guess we won’t know until you try it.”

  Logan looked back down at the paper.

  “I have other information. I just thought that was the most direct link, even though it’s older.”

  Logan set the paper aside. “What else do you have?”