Blame It on the Cowboy (24 page)

I love all five of you.

“Logan?” someone said.

Since he was still in the dream, it took him a moment to realize it wasn't his mother calling out his name. It was Reese. She was shaking him, and she sounded very concerned.

Logan forced his eyes open, and just like that, the dream vanished. He hadn't wanted to hold on to those images, anyway, but he wanted to hold on to those words.

“I love all five of you?” Reese questioned.

Obviously, he'd talked in his sleep. “The dream,” he managed to say.

“I suspected as much. I didn't think you were talking to me and four other women.”

Good. Reese had kept it light. Not quite a joke, but it batted away some of the dark cobwebs.

“One of your parents said that?” she asked.

Logan sat up, nodded. “My mother. But I'm not sure she actually said it. Sometimes, in the dream she doesn't say anything. Sometimes, she says what I want to hear her say.”

Reese stayed quiet a moment. “What do you want to hear her say?”

Logan stayed quiet a moment, too.
“It's all right. I forgive you for not saving us.”

He figured Reese was going to be surprised by that, but she didn't seem to be. She made a sound of understanding. “I do that with my Spenser dreams. I rewrite what happened so that it has an ending I can better handle. It doesn't help.”

“Then what does help?” And he was serious. Because while Reese was still troubled by what'd happened to Spenser, she wasn't the one having nightmares or migraines.

“Accepting it,” she said.

“You're able to do that?”

“Most days.” She settled against him. “It's not a perfect solution, but I don't think we ever get perfect when it comes to our past.” She groaned softly. “Sorry, that's probably too deep for a postsex chat.”

Only if they were trying to make sure the postsex chat didn't mean anything. This conversation meant something. On the surface, they didn't have a lot in common, but beneath the surface, that was a whole different story.

“Jimena said you were always packed and ready to leave,” he threw out there.

“I am. Though I can't imagine why she'd tell you that.”

“Because I asked her. I figured now that the engagement party was over, you'd be looking to move.” Logan adjusted his position so he could look her in the eyes. “Give it at least another week.”

Reese certainly didn't jump to agree to that. “And then?”

“And then give it another week after that.”

She smiled. Barely there and brief. But it was still a smile. “I'll think about it, but Jimena doesn't believe this will turn out well between us.”

No, she didn't. Most people probably felt that way including members of his own family. Thankfully, they hadn't voiced those concerns to his face.

“Get some sleep,” she said, brushing a kiss on his cheek.

“You, too.” But Logan thought he should add one more thing. “Don't let Jimena put cat shit in my coffee.”

Not just a smile this time but also a chuckle. Logan suddenly wasn't sleepy at all and wondered if he could cash in that laugh for another round of sex. But he must have tempted fate with that thought because his phone buzzed.

He checked the time. It was just past midnight. Way too late for someone to be calling him about business so that meant it was some kind of emergency. He got a slam of instant memories. Of another storm. Of the car accident. And Logan grabbed his phone so fast that he nearly dropped it. He didn't even check the screen before answering.

“McCord,” the caller said. Definitely not family, but it was a voice that Logan recognized.

Chucky.

“What the hell do you want?” Logan greeted.

“Just thought you should know that I worked out a deal with your lady friend, and I'll be leaving town.”

By lady friend, Chucky was no doubt referring to Helene. “She paid you off?” Logan countered, and he put the call on speaker so Reese could hear.

“Just in case you're recording this, let's just say we came to a mutually satisfying agreement.” Chucky mispronounced
mutually
.

Yeah, Helene had paid him off.

“Then why call me with all of this?” Logan asked. But as soon as the question left his mouth, he got a really bad feeling about this.

“Because I didn't want to leave without telling you about Vickie.” Chucky cleared his throat. “Your lady friend probably doesn't know it, but Vickie broke into her office. Vickie's sneaky like that. Anyway, Vickie found something that she might try to use against your lady friend. Something Vickie can use as blackmail.”

Logan dragged in a long breath. “Let's just cut the lady-friend crap and tell me what Vickie found in Helene's office.”

“Not Helene,” Chucky corrected. “Your other lady friend, the one who works for you now. Jimena.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

J
IMENA
WAS
LATE
for their meeting, and Reese figured that was exactly what her friend wanted to be. Because Jimena was avoiding this conversation.

Reese didn't need any special powers to determine that.

When Reese had called Jimena immediately after Chucky's bombshell news, Jimena hadn't been asleep—because she was with Jason—but after Reese had told her it was important that they talk, Jimena had said she'd meet Reese at the Bluebonnet Inn at eight the following morning. That way, they could chat before Jimena had to go to work. Well, Reese was here.

But Jimena wasn't.

It was only ten past eight, which meant Jimena was hardly late enough to start thinking about her friend being hurt and lying in a ditch or something, but Reese had to know what Vickie had found in Jimena's desk.

Of course, this all could turn out to be some kind of con on her mother's part. Maybe on Chucky's part, too. Because maybe there'd been nothing to find, but this could be a way of stirring up Reese. If so, it had worked.

It had worked for Logan, too. He was at the McCord building with a team that was installing a security system. One that would no doubt be top-notch and would prevent future break-ins. It was too bad they didn't have a time machine to go back and undo the break-in her mother had supposedly done.

Reese prayed this didn't end up hurting Jimena in some way.

Her phone rang, and Reese was ready to chew out Jimena for being late, but it wasn't Jimena. It was Helene. Good gravy. She hadn't had enough caffeine yet to deal with Helene. Reese answered, anyway, because she was still worrying about the “Jimena in a ditch” theory, and Helene might know something to dispel that.

“Sorry to bother you so early,” Helene greeted, “but I knew you were up because I saw you leave Logan's about an hour ago.”

Reese didn't ask how she'd seen that, but Helene did have an office just up the street from the McCord building so it was possible the sighting had been accidental and that Helene wasn't spying on her. From everything Reese had heard about Helene, the woman worked long hours and was often in early enough to have seen Reese leave.

“I was hoping we could meet for coffee and a chat. I called the café,” Helene said, “but Bert said this was your day off.”

“It is, and I'm kind of busy right now. Besides, I'm not sure we actually have anything to discuss. Unless it's about you not filing those charges against Chucky.”

“You heard. Yes, it's true. I'm not filing charges, and he's agreed to leave town.”

“You paid him?” Reese asked.

“I'd rather discuss that in person,” Helene answered. “I'll tell Logan this, of course, but I also wanted you to know that Delbert called me last night. He said he wasn't going to have charges filed against your mother, either, that he was going to take care of the matter himself.”

That meant Delbert was going to pay Vickie off. Reese didn't especially care if a rich, cheating man was willing to pay hush money, but it wouldn't be the last of her mother's demands.

“I know it's hard for you to understand,” Helene went on, “but a reputation is a delicate thing, and sometimes it's worth any price. I understand why Delbert's doing what he's doing.”

That might have prompted Reese to say something along the lines of wishing them both luck and that there was no need for a chat over coffee, but there was a knock at the door, and when Reese threw it open, Jimena was standing there.

“I have to go,” Reese told Helene, and she ended the call before the woman could say another word.

Jimena did something similar to Reese. She started talking before Reese could get out her first question. “I had the hottest night with Logan's friend Jason. Can't wait to tell you all about it.”

Reese was well aware that Jimena had left the engagement party with Jason. Was also well aware they'd started groping and kissing each other before they even made it to his truck. Under normal circumstances, Reese would want to hear a few PG-rated details but not now.

“Your date update can wait,” Reese told her.

“And so can a few other things.”

“No. I need to tell you about Chucky.”

“Later. For now, get your grandfather's watch and come with me,” Jimena insisted. “We can talk while we walk. And hurry. I have to be at work in an hour. I have an asshole for a boss who'll fire me if I'm late.” Jimena chuckled as if this were some kind of joke. Well, the asshole for a boss part was a joke, but the rest of this wasn't.

Reese shook her head. “Where are we walking, and why do I need to bring the watch?” She froze. “Oh, God. Does Vickie know about the watch?”

“If she does, she didn't hear it from me. Just get the watch and come on. I have a surprise for you. And FYI, I'm not going to spill anything juicy until you get it so the longer you fart around, the longer it'll take for you to hear what you want to hear.”

Reese doubted that was a bluff, and since she really was anxious to hear what had happened between Chucky, Jimena and Vickie, she hurried to the coffee bag where she'd hidden the watch after wrapping it in foil.

“Is someone going to try to steal the watch?” Reese asked.

Jimena shrugged, and with that as her only explanation—which, of course, was no explanation at all—she started out the door and down the stairs. Reese put the watch in her jeans pocket, grabbed her purse and hurried after her.

“All right, start talking,” Reese insisted the moment they were outside. “Did you really pay off Chucky?”

“I did,” Jimena readily admitted. “I figured it was time you had one less dickwad in your life. Can't do anything about the mother-dickwad, but you'll never have to see Chucky's boney ass again.”

Reese was stunned. “You paid off Chucky? Where did you get the money?”

“From Elrond,” Jimena said in a discussing-the-weather kind of tone. “I blackmailed him. Told him I'd give Logan pictures of Helene and him having clown sex.”

“But Helene had clown sex with Greg,” Reese pointed out.

“Well, she had it with Elrond, too. He let that slip when he was talking to me.” Jimena stopped, paused. “Do you have any idea what they do with those big red clown noses?”

Reese huffed. “No, and I don't want to know.” She had to lower her voice when she realized this wasn't a conversation she wanted others to hear, and they were passing people on the street as Jimena led her heaven knew where. “Where did Elrond get the money to pay you off?”

“From Helene. He blackmailed her, and he stole my threat. Sheez, the man can't even come up with his own blackmail idea.”

Reese's head was hurting now, and she rarely got headaches. “So, let me get this straight. You blackmailed Elrond. He blackmailed Helene, and you gave the money to Chucky to get him to leave? Why didn't you just spend the money on yourself?”

Jimena looked at her as if she'd laid an egg. “I couldn't let Chucky keep pestering you, and besides, it wouldn't have been right to keep dirty money.”

It was hard for Reese to fault that logic, especially since it might work.
Might.
And that
might
was only temporary. “Chucky will just be back when he runs out of money.”

Jimena smiled. “No, he won't, and here's the kicker. I altered copies of the clown sex photos. I erased Elrond's face and put in Chucky's to make it look as if Chucky's got his nose where it doesn't belong—if you get my meaning.” She winked.

Yes, Reese did get her meaning. “So, you're blackmailing Chucky because if he comes back, you'll give those pictures to his wife.”

“Yep. Easy peasy, huh?”

Nothing about this was easy or peasy—whatever the heck that meant. Jimena might need a flowchart to keep up with who was blackmailing whom and why. Plus, there was the other matter that Reese wanted to discuss.

“Chucky called Logan last night, and he said Vickie stole something from your desk,” Reese put out there. “Chucky thought it was something she could possibly use to blackmail you.”

Now it was Jimena who stopped. “Hmm. Well, I did have both sets of the clown sex pictures in there. Copies, mind you. I have the originals in a password-protected storage cloud.”

Sex pictures that wouldn't shed good lights on Helene or Chucky. Her mother could be planning to blackmail both of them.

Again, a flowchart might be needed.

“Are you sure Vickie couldn't have taken something else from your desk?” Reese asked. “Maybe something she could use to hurt you?”

Jimena paused a second, giving that some thought, and shook her head. “There were some other sex pictures of Elrond and me, but if she plans to blackmail me with that, she's barking up the wrong tree. I don't care who sees my sex pictures.”

Reese put herself in a con-artist frame of mind to see if she could figure out how this might work for her mother. It didn't take her long to come up with an angle. “Jason. If Vickie thinks you're trying to have a relationship with Jason, she could hold on to the pictures to try to cause some trouble between you two.”

“Oh, you mean because Jason wouldn't go for sleeping with a woman who had sex with the man who had sex with his best friend's ex.”

Heck, they needed a flowchart for that, too. “I don't know Jason that well, but it could be an issue for him. He could see being with you as some kind of disloyalty to Logan.”

Jimena made a sound of agreement. Followed by a sound of annoyance. And that's when Reese knew that Jimena did indeed have a thing for Jason.

Damn.

Reese wasn't sure how her mother pieced together stuff like this, but Vickie always seemed to be one step ahead of them. And speaking of steps, Jimena quit walking, and she pointed to the sign in the front of the jewelry store.

Watch Repairs.

“I called ahead,” Jimena said. “They don't usually open until ten, but we've got an appointment. Don't worry about the cost. I milked a little extra money from Elrond.”

It was a wonderful gesture. Not milking money from Elrond—Reese didn't care much for that. But with everything going on, she was surprised, and pleased, that her friend had thought of this.

So, why couldn't Reese make herself go into the shop? She held her ground even when Jimena opened the door and tried to usher her in.

“All right,” Jimena finally said. “What's this about?”

Reese shook her head. “I'm not sure I can put it into words.”

“This is about Spenser. He broke the watch, and you don't think you deserve to have it fixed because of what happened to him.”

All in all, that was an accurate assessment. Was that it? Reese did a quick soul-examining and realized that it might be.

“Of course that's malarkey,” Jimena went on. “You love that watch, and it should be fixed so that it's the way it was when your grandfather gave it to you.”

Reese did a little more soul-examining and realized Jimena was right. A broken watch wasn't doing service to her grandfather's memory. The brokenness was only a reminder of Spenser, and that was something Reese could do without. Or rather it was something she
wanted
to do without.

They went inside, and the repairman, Jeff Latchwood, motioned for them to come to the back counter where he was working. Reese knew him from the café. He was a “well-done burger, no cheese, with pickles on the side” kind of guy.

He took the watch from her, holding it with what she thought might be reverence, and he gave it a good examination. “Yep, I can fix it, but I'll have to order a crystal to replace the broken one. It might come in right away, or it could take up to two weeks. I'll give you a call as soon as it's done, and you can come in and pick it up.”

Reese's heart sank. Not the feeling she'd hoped to get so soon after all that soul-searching and the revelation of why she did indeed want this fixed.

“While I'm waiting on the crystal,” Jeff went on, “I'll give it a cleaning and make sure nothing else is broken inside.”

“Sounds good,” Jimena declared, and she got Reese out of there probably before she could change her mind. Which she was about to do.

“Two weeks?” Reese repeated. “I wasn't sure I'd be in town that long.”

“Well, now you have to be.” And Jimena smiled.

Reese frowned. “Did Logan put you up to this?”

“No.” She seemed sincere about that. “Why?”

“Because he asked me to stay.”

“Then maybe he's not an asshole, after all.” Jimena's gaze flew to the time on her phone screen. She took off. “Shit. Gotta go. I don't want to give Logan a reason to fire me. Bye!”

That sounded as un-right as something could sound coming from Jimena. To the best of Reese's knowledge, Jimena had never cared whether or not she got fired. And she'd never before sprinted toward work even when there was imminent threat of being fired. Reese hoped that didn't mean Jimena had gotten her heart set on keeping this job because Logan would almost certainly hire someone more qualified.

Reese looked back at the jewelry shop, considered returning to say she'd changed her mind, but then she saw Helene walking toward her.

Apparently, Logan's ex wasn't giving up on having that chat with her because Helene waved and called out to her. “I'm so glad we ran into each other. I really do need to talk to you.”

Reese got that, which made her believe this wasn't “running into each other” coincidence. Helene had probably tracked her down, and that meant Logan had perhaps told her about Vickie's latest break-in, the one that might or might not involve clown sex pictures of Helene.

“I need to get back to my apartment,” Reese said. That was a polite way of saying she really didn't want to talk to her. But Helene was evidently determined to do this because she fell in step alongside Reese.