BAD Beginnings Page 7

  “Great! Thanks.”

  Maybe if he’d stop taking afternoon walks, he wouldn’t need to work this late. She shrugged and headed for her car. She’d have to speed a little to get there.

  The parking lot was full when she arrived. People packed the place no matter the time of day. She glanced at her watch and shook her head. Almost nine p.m. So much for a quiet discussion with the boss. As she worked her way through the crowd to his table, the smell of bacon, grease, and bread was a step back in time. It reminded her of a trip to her grandparents as a child. Her insides warmed.

  “Damn, Gemma. Do you also sleep in business clothes? Don’t you ever get tired of wearing a skirt?” Logan drew a coffee cup to his lips and blew a waft of steam from the liquid.

  If you only knew. She hadn’t put a skirt on in four years prior to taking this gig. The chafing from her firearm had been a bruiser for the first few months. “Actually I’d give my eye teeth to put on sweatpants right now but I haven’t been home.”

  “Sorry about that.”

  “No worries. So, why am I here? And what are you doing working this late?” She grabbed the water by her plate and sucked in a drink. His face was somber. The five-o’clock shadow from earlier in the day had grown thicker. His hair was spiked on top as if he’d run fingers through it—a nervous habit he’d developed since his return. Or maybe since the haircut?

  “I wanted to show you something.”

  “Gemma! Oh. My. God!” A squeal erupted and Logan spurted coffee back into the cup. Gemma cringed at the voice. Not now. Dammit, why hadn’t I picked somewhere a little farther away? She glanced around and her stomach sank. Somewhere where I wouldn’t be known. Before she could turn, her face was smothered between two hefty arms in a bear hug, reminding her that the high pitched squeal accompanied a very, very toned body.

  Of her sister.

  Gemma panicked as she wriggled free from her sibling. Would he see the resemblance despite the color in Gwen’s hair? Would she blow her entire two-year’s work? She had to stop her sister from doing the normal chat-a-person-to-sleep routine. Before she chatted Gemma right out of her case.

  “Gwen, can’t you see I’m busy?” She nodded at her companion, thankful this time she was sitting with the hottest guy in the room. Sliding a hand down Gwen’s arm, she grasped her fingers and squeezed. Hard. A quick frown and the slightest of nods was the only way she could warn her. Hopefully she read the clues. Don’t blow this. Don’t rat me out.

  Gwen’s eyes darted from Gemma to Logan, then she slid her mouth into a wide smile and leaned forward, hand outreached. “Hi, I’m Gwen. Gemma’s sister.” Oh, God, no. Stop. “Older sister but who can tell, right? And you are?”

  Logan had that dear-in-the-headlights look men get when faced with a situation that was so far removed from their intended agenda it wasn’t even on the same planet. He set the cup down and took her grasp. “Logan. Nice to meet you. Gemma’s told me so much about you.”

  Liar.

  She had never spoken of her family at all, but saying it certainly seemed to charm Gwen. He poured on another of those million dollar smiles that recently sent her bones to Jell-O and swept a hand toward the empty seat by Gemma. “Care to join us?”

  “No!” Gemma’s voice was sharp and both of them jumped. Gwen started to sit but Gemma grabbed her forearm and yanked her to her feet. She shot a glance at Logan. “We’ll be right back, okay?” She rattled off her order in case the waitress came back and dragged Gwen to the bathroom.

  Inside, she whirled. “What the hell are you doing? Can’t you see I’m busy?”

  Gwen wiggled her eyebrows. “Don’t you mean about to get busy? Dang, Gem, since when did you start dating hunks? Please don’t tell me he’s a cop, too? Oh, God, your partner? Is he your new partner?”

  Gemma shook her arm. “Shut. Up. No, he’s not my partner. He’s my suspect. And he hasn’t a clue who I am, so stop. Leave. Don’t blow this. Okay?”

  Gwen’s face turned ashen. Her eyes started to water. “Oh. No. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-- How was I to know?”

  “You weren’t. I wasn’t expecting to see anyone.”

  Her sister tilted a brow. “Then maybe you should have picked a spot that’s not five easy miles from our parent’s house? And mine? You know, it’s no wonder you’re struggling with this case. Sometimes you’re a real moron. I have to hand it to you, that guy looks a hell of a lot better in person. The papers don’t do him justice. He looks all arrogant and uppity in print.” Gwen turned to the mirror, pulled a lip-gloss from her bag, and applied shine to her perfect mouth. Gemma had always been irritated that Gwen had all the feminine perfection in the family. “So, let’s go back out there and rattle his cage, what do you say? Maybe together we could—”

  “We aren’t doing anything. You are leaving.”

  “No way. I want to meet this guy and understand why you think he’s got a sick side. So far, all I see is sheet candy.” She giggled.

  “Gwen!”

  “Besides I’m meeting Doby and his friends here for dinner. They’re probably already out there somewhere. I just walked in.”

  “What? No way! I can’t see them. They’ll—”

  Gwen patted her arm. “Don’t worry. I’ll just fill him in. Hang on a sec.” She drew a phone from her purse made a few taps on the keys and pressed a button. “There, I just texted him that you’re here and on a case…and not to rat you out.”

  Her phone bleeped. She glanced at the screen and giggled.

  “What?” Gwen tried to peer at the display but Gemma yanked it back.

  “He said no problem, he’d be happy to help out.”

  Yeah, right. “That’s not what he said.”

  “Uh, well, he said he’d be happy to give you shit but he won’t blow your case. Come on, let’s get back out there. I want to meet our potential criminal.”

  “We don’t know he’s—”

  “I know. I know. Innocent until proven guilty. I got it. But dang, won’t it be fun trying to investigate that hunk of ass? Mmmm, mmm. Put me alone in an interrogation room with him anytime.”

  “Need I remind you, you’re married?”

  “Hey, just because I’m on a diet doesn’t mean I can’t look at the menu.” Gwen strode back to the table, intent on getting said look. “Speaking of menus, I hope Doby ordered for me, I’m starving.”

  Gemma scanned the room searching for her brother-in-law, who also happened to be a cop. There, in the corner. Why hadn’t she noticed the three uniforms earlier? Shit. She was ruined for sure. Logan had seen them.

  He smiled as the two girls approached before darting a glance at the table of law enforcement. “Looks like we don’t have to worry about safety or robbery tonight, right?”

  Gemma laughed nervously. That’s the least of my worries at the moment. “Don’t mind them. So—”

  A chair screeched in the corner and she swallowed the lump in her throat. Uh-oh. Doby started their way. She knew that look. It was the time-to-mess-with-little-sis look. She prayed for a wreck or a burglary. Anything to get him moving somewhere other than the table she occupied. With Logan.

  “Gemma? What are you doing out this late? Isn’t it past your bedtime?” Doby nodded at Logan. “Hey.” Code for who-the-hell-are-you?

  “Very funny. Logan, meet my brother-in-law. Soon to be ex if he doesn’t behave.”

  Logan’s face paled. She’d seen that reaction before. People either adored, hated, or feared cops. Which was it with him? She studied his features for a sign. He cleared his throat. “So I guess I know who to call next time I have a ticket. Gemma, I don’t remember you mentioning a sister or cop in the family.”

  “You never asked. And I don’t think I’ve mentioned anything about my family at all. It’s never come up. I gathered you didn’t want to know.” Not to mention, she had no desire to tell.


  Doby kissed his wife and squeezed her tush. “I ordered for you, babe.” Ignoring a burst of laughter from his table, Doby slid into the seat by Gemma. “So, when are you gonna give our girl here a break?” He focused on Logan and waited.

  “Excuse me?”

  Silence. Tick. Tick.

  “You know, a vacation. She hasn’t been to a single family outing in two years. And by the looks of her, she’s aged five years in the process. What exactly are you doing to her?” The heavy innuendo wasn’t lost on her intended dinner partner.

  Logan seemed to come to terms with the cop-thing and squared his shoulders. He shifted in his seat to add height before speaking. “You’re the cop. You tell me. To what exactly are you inferring, man? This is a business dinner with my employee where we had intended to discuss work. Wherever your mind went, I suggest you rein it in and think before you say another word.”

  Doby blinked. He grabbed Logan’s water glass and stole a sip. “I’ll be watching you. I don’t care who you are. We…” he darted a finger between Gwen and himself, “will be watching you.”

  Logan nodded. “Fair enough. Hopefully I won’t bore you to tears in the process.”

  Doby took his wife’s hand and escorted her to the waiting table of food. Gwen waved sheepishly over his shoulder.

  Whew.

  *

  Baden tried to keep his attention on Gemma but years of awareness made that difficult. In his experience, a uniform of any type wasn’t to be trusted. A rare few deserved respect. Was her brother one of those? Something about the man rang familiar. He’d seen the guy before. No idea where, but he had.

  That changed everything.

  “So, now that the interruptions are over with…what was it you needed?” Their waitress refilled drinks then left. “Oh yeah, you wanted to show me something?”

  He had considered setting things straight before. Now, he needed to think. What would happen if he just laid his cards on the table and explained? Would she believe him? Would she report him to her brother-in-law? I am not walking out of this damn restaurant in handcuffs. He slid Logan’s phone her way. “My password isn’t working and I need to check messages.”

  Gemma cocked a brow. “Seriously? You called me here for that? How am I supposed to know what you set it to? You’ve never shared things like that with me.”

  “I know but surely you can call the service and have them reset it or something, can’t you?”

  “Don’t tell me you changed it too and forgot already.”

  That would make sense. He grinned. “You caught me. Look, I have work to do and I need to pull my messages. I was expecting a call.” From my real self or someone who knew where he was.

  She held out a hand and snapped fingers. “Let me see what I can do.”

  Baden handed over the device and she excused herself. “Give me a minute to call it in from my phone. I’ll be right back.” He wasn’t sure why she wanted privacy for that and wasn’t about to let her take it. Who knew what was on that phone. For all he knew there were pictures that just might include him.

  “Call from here.”

  “Fine.” Gemma shrugged and dialed.

  He waited and listened. When the conversation seemed to recommend restarting and perusing the phones commands, he snatched it away. “I’ll do it. Just give instructions.” Fifteen long and painful minutes later, he had access to the phone.

  “Thanks.”

  “Can I go home now?” Annoyance tinged her words.

  What made him think she’d listen to his story and believe it? Out of the corner of his eye he noticed the group that included her sister depart. Gemma waved and smiled. “Sure, how did you get here?”

  “I drove. What do you think?” Her tone was short.

  “Can I get a ride? I took a cab.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “You have a slew of cars in your garage and a driver at your whim…and you took a taxi?”

  “It was late. I didn’t want to bother him. Besides, how else was I supposed to…” Spend time with you. He shook that thought out of head noting how desperate it seemed.

  “Hide?”

  Chapter Eleven

  Regardless of the newfound trust, Gemma was frustrated with Logan’s remaining suspicions. Hadn’t the past two years proven he could count on her? That she was worthy of trust?

  Okay, who cared that it was all a lie and she had pretended to be someone else all along. He hadn’t figured that out and was finally allowing her the responsibility she needed to delve further. She wanted that phone. Needed it, in fact. A few seconds alone with the device and she’d be able to plant the tap and trace his conversations. Not to mention she craved a peek at his contact list.

  He doused that plan immediately by not allowing her some electronic alone-time, which further confirmed he was hiding more than just a few errant calls. Now he had the nerve to appear shocked at her words. She squinted as they made their way toward her car. Or was that simply nervousness?

  “What would I want to hide from?”

  “I don’t know…maybe your ever-adoring fans and publicity?”

  He seemed to consider the statement. “I have fans?”

  “You’re rich. You drive a different car every day. Correction, you get driven in a different car every day. Do you even know how to drive? Your name is plastered on businesses, statues, and various big dollar contracts all over this town. With that kind of money, you have fans.”

  He ran a hand over the back of his neck before opening the passenger door of her Ford and sliding onto her worn, non-leather seats. He sighed. “And you think they’d be hanging out at the Cracker Barrel on the off-chance they might get an opportunity for a picture or autograph? Do the paparazzi do that?”

  He had a point. Still she darted a glance around the parking lot. Nope. It was quiet and seemed safe. Logan dropped an arm across the console between them and adjusted the air. Gemma clenched her jaw. Messing with the controls in a person’s car was one of her pet peeves. She’d allow the air because that was a comfort thing, but if he touched her radio she was going to…

  “You do. You’re dead.”

  His hand stopped within inches of the button. “What? I was only going to turn it up. I like this song.” She noted the tune from Matchbox Twenty and shrugged.

  “I thought you planned to change it. Touching a person’s tunes is a major faux pas you know. Girls hate it when guys do that.”

  “Really? Why?”

  “It’s a control thing. Or maybe just bad etiquette. Rude. If you’re a guest in someone’s house or car, you are obliged to listen to their music. No complaints. Besides you might learn to like their taste and will certainly learn something.”

  The side of his mouth quirked and for a second she expected him to laugh. He didn’t. “Just to be sure, is that a control thing on your part or the guest’s?”

  “What are you trying to say?”

  “I think maybe you don’t like change. Plus you don’t like people messing with your things. It’s your radio. Your music.”

  Okay, he had her there. “That’s right.”

  He turned to the window, his breath sending a fog across the glass as he spoke, “I guess it’s a good thing we have the same taste then.”

  Only they hadn’t normally. He was into that techno-dance crap, not classic rock. Was he simply appeasing her for the moment? Should she trust that? She reached for the knob, adjusted the sound louder, and enjoyed their momentary partnership for the duration of the drive to his house.

  In his driveway, the car coughed twice before sputtering to silence. “Don’t say a word about my wheels. I know it’s a piece of junk but it’s my piece of junk. Besides you wanted a ride. I gave it to you. Just not in the luxury you’re accustomed to.”

  The door squeaked open and Logan stepped out. His feet crunched on the drive as he circled the
car. She watched, fully expecting him to go inside. She left the lights focused on the entry.

  Her door flung open in his grasp and she jolted. “Come with me, Gemma.”

  “What? No. It’s late. I can’t—”

  “Can’t? Or don’t want to?”

  “We have work tomorrow. You said you had work tonight. That’s why you wanted your phone unlocked.”

  That’s right. The phone is unlocked. And going inside might just give access to view it, if he loosened his grip a little. Perhaps this would be a good time to take her coworker’s advice and slip him a little something extra. A sedative, or booze, or maybe just a good knock on the head?

  No. Not fair.

  There was something seriously wrong with feeding alcohol or pills to a man trying to recover from such vices. She would need to find another way. She grasped the fingers he extended and stepped out of the car to follow him inside. The more she prolonged the evening, the better her prognosis for discovering further evidence. On the phone, him, or anything.

  When he tightened his grasp on her fingers, she forced herself not to wiggle free. He’s a suspect in half a dozen missing persons cases, girl. She shouldn’t be here at all and definitely not alone in the middle of the night. But his fingers were warm. Nice.

  Besides, help is a phone call away. She noted the parked car down the street and the shadowed figure within. Would she need them? Had she a need for rescue? Something in the warmth of Logan’s grip told her no. Oh, she wasn’t safe at all. That was assured. But the danger had nothing to do with her case, nor those men in the car.

  “Are you a patient person, Gemma?” Logan’s voice cut through the steady trill of the locusts in the trees beyond his fenced yard. Someone’s radio joined the buzz. Odd thing to ask.

  “Normally no, but I’m getting better at it.” Thanks to you, you paranoid piece of work. “Why?”

  “I don’t know, just curious. Let’s say you had a problem. One that had gone on for a long, long time and every instance of potential resolution just pushed it farther from your grasp instead of clearing it up. How long would you wait for an answer? How hard would you work for it before you gave up? Tossed in the towel so to speak?”