Little Girl Gone (A Logan Harper Thriller)
Page 25
“One,” she began. “Mr. Harper is to be release today, within the hour, with no charges made against him.” She looked at the representatives from the U.S. “This includes anything that may have happened in California before he left for Thailand.”
Detective Baker was not going to be happy to hear that, Logan thought.
“Two, if anything happens to Mr. Harper, now or in the future, and I mean anything, I will make a point of including both of your governments’ involvement in the blame when I talk about what happened here. And then I will show this.”
She tapped the spacebar, and a movie began to play on the screen.
As Logan watched, a smile grew on his face. Someone had done a pretty damn good job of cutting together all the footage that had been shot at Doi Suthep. Logan’s footage was there, too, because he made sure to slip his camera to one of Daeng’s refugee friends before the police had taken him in. But there was more than just what they had shot. Intercut at strategic points was news footage and stills showing prominent leaders from both the U.S. and Thailand in the company of Mr. Bracher and Mr. Schwartz and Mr. Lyon.
Logan was released the moment the meeting was over, and was even given a free flight home, courtesy of the Thai government.
He did get to see Daeng one more time, though. They had lunch in Bangkok the afternoon before his flight left. Daeng seemed energized and more focused than ever.
“Word of our…work is spreading in Burma. More and more people know what happened to Sein Myat and her family, and that she survived to continue working for their freedom.”
“If it helps, I’m glad to hear it,” Logan said.
“I told you, it’s a long fight for us. Years, decades, whatever it takes. At some point my mother’s people will be free again. And you. They know about you, too, and the part you played.”
“Yours is the one they need to know about. Without you, I wouldn’t have gotten anywhere. And you’re still here helping them.”
“Of course they know my name. I’m not stupid.”
They both laughed.
“If you’re ever looking for a change of scenery, you’ll always be welcome to come here and work with me,” Daeng said.
“Thanks,” Logan told him. “And if you’re ever back in L.A., give me a call, and I’ll drive down.”
Daeng smiled. “I’ve been craving a little bit of that mild weather, so I’m sure I’ll make the trip soon enough.”
“Please tell Christina thank you for introducing us.”
“I will.”
The funny thing was, the only person Logan didn’t talk to was Elyse. She was still heavily drugged when the ambulance took her and Sein away in Chiang Mai, and Sein had told him at the meeting that her husband and Elyse had flown home several days earlier. Logan was actually glad to hear it. It meant he’d accomplished what he set out to do, to see that Elyse got safely home.
Thailand not only paid his flight to LAX, they also threw in the commuter hop from there to San Luis Obispo. When he got off the plane, he thought he’d have to rent a car to get back to Cambria, but waiting for him in the lobby was the entire membership of WAMO.
Logan got handshakes and backslaps and “well dones” all around. When Tooney’s turn came, he shook Logan’s hand first, then threw his arms around him. “Thank you,” he whispered.
“I was lucky,” Logan said.
“No, I was lucky,” Tooney told him. “Lucky your father convince me to trust you.”
“I had a lot of help. So it wasn’t just me.”
“Yes. Yes. Yes. I know. But you, you make everything happen. You brought her back.”
Logan mumbled a reply, then headed outside with his dad and the others.
It was a beautiful, mild day, the humidity of Thailand suddenly a distant memory.
They were almost to Jerry’s Cadillac, when Harp pulled Logan to the left. “Our ride’s over here.”
Parked in the next aisle was Logan’s El Camino, its back end facing them. It took Logan a few seconds before he realized the damage was all gone.
He leaned down for a closer look.
“I figured since you weren’t using it, I’d have the guys over at Floyd’s Body Shop see what they could do. The took care of the front, too.”
It looked good as new to Logan. “Thanks, Dad.”
Harp was silent for a moment. “I owe you at least that much. For what you did for Tooney.”
“No, you don’t.”
“I do.” He hesitated, then said, “I know there’s a lot going on in that head of yours, but you did good. Real good. I couldn’t be more proud.”
Logan had no response for that. There were so many times he’d almost failed since that morning Tooney had been attacked, he wasn’t ready to pat himself on the back.
He dropped his dad off at his home, then headed to his apartment in West Village. It was dark by the time he parked around back. He grabbed his backpack, then walked over to the stairs that led to his front door. But he didn’t go up.
Elyse was sitting in his way.
She stared at him for several seconds, then said, “I just wanted to get a look at you.”
“Um, okay.”
“I hear you saved my life.”
“I was just one of many.”
“That’s not what I was told.”
“Doesn’t really matter. The important thing is that you’re home.”
After several seconds, she said, “I don’t remember most of it. Not well, anyway. After they grabbed me outside Anthony’s place…” She paused. “Grandpa told me you were the one who found him.”
Logan took a breath. “Yes.”
Silence.
“If Anthony didn’t know me, he’d still be alive.”
“You can’t think that way,” he told her.
“But it’s true, though.”
“It doesn’t matter. It wasn’t your fault. Not even a little.”
“How can I be friends with anyone now? How can I trust the same thing won’t happen to someone else.”
He knew just telling her it wasn’t her fault again wouldn’t help, so he said what he though she really needed to hear. “You’ll find a way.”
Neither of them said anything for a moment.
Then she said, “I…I know I need to thank you, but I don’t know how. Just saying it doesn’t seem like it would be enough.”
“You don’t need to thank me at all.”
“I don’t think I could even if I tried.” She picked up something that was lying on the step behind her. “Here. It’s the best I can do for now.”
What she handed him was a small painting in a dark green wooden frame—a painting of a young girl with wings and a mischievous smile.
“You?” he asked.
She shrugged. “I painted it.”
“No, I mean the girl. Is it you?”
She walked down the steps, and stopped in front of him, then raised up on her toes, and kissed him on the cheek. “Grandpa says you get free coffee for life.”
She stepped around him, and started walking away.
Did you get her? Carl asked.
Did you get her?
Logan looked down at the picture, then back at Elyse as she disappeared into the night.
“Yes,” he said. “I got her.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Brett Battles lives in Los Angeles and is the author of four novels in the acclaimed Jonathan Quinn series, including THE CLEANER (nominated for the Barry Award for Best Thriller 2008, and the Shamus Award for Best Debut Novel), THE DECEIVED (winner of the Barry Award for Best Thriller 2009), and the latest installment, THE SILENCED. LITTLE GIRL GONE is the first of his new series featuring Logan Harper. More info available at www.brettbattles.com
Other Works by Brett Battles available on Kindle:
The Jonathan Quinn Thrillers
THE CLEANER
THE DECEIVED
SHADOW OF BETRAYAL (U.S.)/THE UNWANTED (U.K.)
THE SILENCED
/> Short Stories
JUST ANOTHER JOB – A Jonathan Quinn Story
PERFECT GENTLEMAN
Coming Soon
THE WRONG MAN
HERE COMES MR. TROUBLE (First of New YA Series)
NO RETURN