Logan's Bride (12 page)

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Authors: Elizabeth August

BOOK: Logan's Bride
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Boyd had been studying Lewis closely. The man showed no hesitation in asking him to stay. In fact, there was nothing, absolutely nothing, in Lewis's manner that suggested he could be involved in Katrina's disappearance. This had been a futile trip. Boyd pushed himself to his feet. “No, thanks. I think I'll go and get some sleep.”
“That'd probably be best.” Lewis rose and placed an arm around Boyd's shoulders as he walked him to the door. “Don't feel so bad. We men are always being fooled by women.”
“I suppose,” Boyd conceded.
Lewis laughed. “You're only human. A pretty face and nice figure can cause a man to do his thinking with something a lot lower than his brain.”
Boyd nodded and left. During the drive back to his apartment, a new possibility occurred to him. Had Katrina left the note and earring in order to cause him to doubt Lewis and send Boyd on a wild-goose chase? She knew he'd been double-crossed by a partner in the past and if he was busy investigating Lewis, he wouldn't be looking for her and her aunt. Anger that he could be so gullible washed through him.
Back at his apartment, he threw out the two bags of groceries. He didn't want anything to remind him of what an idiot he'd been. After making a sandwich, he ate it glaring at the couch where she'd slept.
Then cursing himself, he went into his bedroom, kicked off his shoes and stretched out on the bed. Images of her face played through his mind. The desire to trust her was still strong. Maybe he'd misinterpreted her message. He knew it by heart. Closing his eyes, he went through it word by word. Nothing new came to mind. Exhaustion overcame him and he slept.
He woke in the small hours of the morning, shaken by the dream he'd been having. In it a frightened Katrina had been holding her arms out and calling to him for help. Splashing water on his face to bring himself fully awake, he couldn't rid himself of the feeling that she needed him to rescue her. “All right. All right. So maybe I'm the biggest fool of all time, but I believe in her,” he declared to his image in the mirror.
So where was she and who had taken her?
Whoever it was hadn't forced his or her way in, which meant she must have let her abductor in. Since she was too smart to admit a stranger, it had to have been someone she knew. Maybe “partnership” had been the only word she could think of under stress. Maybe she'd really meant “comradeship” to indicate that it was another agent. That would explain the warning not to trust anyone.
Getting out a pad of paper, he made a list of the agents she'd met. It was a fairly short list, just the task force and his superior, Gerald Eldridge. Then, taking the time she'd left him, adding in some time for her to go to the grocery, he determined what time she'd probably arrived home. Since the groceries hadn't been unpacked, whoever had taken her must have been waiting or following her and showed up at the door almost immediately. He checked off the names of the agents who had left when he had. Everyone of them had offered him a ride home. He'd declined because he'd wanted to stop for flowers and wine. And on his way out, he'd seen Eldridge in his office. When he finished, he could account for everyone except Gwyne Simmons and Lewis.
Just after Katrina had left, Gwyne had received a call. She'd said it was her mother calling from the hospital. Her father had taken a turn for the worse. Checking her records, he found her father's name and began calling hospitals until he found one that said they had a patient by that name. Needing to be active, he drove there, got the room number and found it. Peeking inside, he saw Gwyne along with a couple of other women.
“Are you a family member?” a nurse paused to ask sympathetically.
“No, just a friend of Gwyne Simmons.”
The nurse gazed compassionately at the three women. “She and her mother and sister haven't left his bedside for hours.”
“I think I should leave her and her family alone,” he said, backing away before Gwyne could look up and see him.
“I'll tell her...”
“I'll give her a call later,” Boyd interrupted and left before the nurse could ask his name. He and Gwyne had never been close and he didn't want her wondering why he'd stopped by the hospital.
Back in his car he frowned. Lewis too had left the task force room soon after Katrina's exit. He'd said he was going back to his office to take care of some paperwork. But he wasn't there when Boyd had gone by to tell him he was leaving.
The path kept coming back to Lewis.
Or maybe it was an agent he hadn't considered. Word must have gotten around the building about who Katrina was. And a quarter of a million was a temptation. But would she have opened the door to someone just because they had a legitimate badge. Sure, why not?
Returning to his apartment, he paced the floor. If it was any agent in the building, it would be like looking for a needle in a haystack. Katrina was clever. She knew he'd need some clue as to whom to pursue. “Don't trust anyone” implied that it was someone he would trust. And, he was certain, “partnership” had to be important.
 
Katrina was being roughly shaken to consciousness.
Vaguely she recalled that this had happened once before and she'd been given another pill, maybe two. She was too groggy to remember accurately.
“Time to wake up,” a familiar male voice ordered curtly.
“O...kaay. O...kaaay.” Her mouth was dry and she had a hard time making her muscles work properly causing the words to come out almost unintelligibly. She opened her eyes. Multiples of the same image blurred in front of her. She rubbed at her eyes with the palms of her hands. The multiples decreased to three.
“Take a drink,” the male voice ordered, holding her up high enough to swallow.
“Nooo...mo-o-o...pillllss,” she said, then clamped her mouth shut.
“No more pills,” the voice assured her. “We need to talk. Now drink.”
This time she obeyed. Swallowing was hard and some of the water dribbled down her chin. After she'd drunk, she was lowered back onto something soft and the man or men—she still wasn't certain if there was more than one—stepped out of her vision. As her eyes began to focus she realized she was on a bed. It was of a four-poster design. Overhead was a white canopy with frilly pink ruffles around the perimeter. She turned her head to the side and saw that the bedspread and pillow shams were also white with pink ruffles. Her wrists hurt. Focusing her gaze on them, she saw red lines. At some time while she slept, she'd been tied up.
Shifting into a sitting position, a bout of dizziness forced her to sit holding her head in her hands. When the world finally stopped spinning, she began to look around. The room appeared to be decorated entirely in pink and white. The tassel from a high school graduation hung on a corner of the dresser mirror. There were photographs stuck into the sides of the frame and a collection of dolls sitting on the dresser. It reminded her of a teenage girl's room.
“This was my daughter's room,” the male voice broke into her thoughts.
This time she recognized it. It belonged to Lewis. Looking over her shoulder, she saw him sitting in a rocking chair.
“She was so pretty and sweet and innocent. Then one day, she ran away. Teenagers do that. They get frustrated with the rules their parents set down.” He breathed a tired sigh. “She didn't understand the dangers she could get into. She was only seventeen.”
Katrina had dealt with a lot of runaways. Seventeen was a late age to start. “She'd never run away before?”
“A couple of times. The first time, she went to her grandparents' house. Her mother's parents. I made it clear I didn't want them to interfere in our family matters. The next time she went to her girlfriend's house. I let that girl's parents know, in no uncertain terms, I didn't appreciate them trying to break up our home.”
Katrina marveled at the double image Lewis presented to the world. At work, he was friendly and jovial. Here at home, the self-righteous way he spoke indicated he must have been a tyrant. “Maybe you should have sought counselling.”
“Psychologists are idiots. They refuse to understand that a child needs stern supervision and guidance. The world is a dangerous place. Brenda had everything she could possibly want right here,” he waved his hand around the room.
“Except a little freedom, I'll bet”
“Freedom.” He spat out the word. “You sound like her mother. I'll tell you about freedom. It can destroy a life, even kill.” His features formed a snarl. “She claimed her friends were all good kids but how could she know for sure? She was so sweet and naive. How could she know they wouldn't try to get her to drink or take drugs? And then there were the boys. They were always hanging around. I knew what they wanted. If they'd had their way, she would have ended up pregnant or with some socially transmitted disease. She claimed I was smothering her when all I was doing was saving her from the pitfalls just waiting for a pretty, innocent girl.” Tears welled in his eyes. “But she refused to understand. The last time she left, she went with a friend to St. Louis and got mixed up with Garduchi. He made a prostitute and a drug addict out of her. She died of an overdose.”
“I'm sorry.” Katrina's sympathy was for Brenda not for Lewis. In her mind, he was as much to blame for the girl's death as Garduchi. However, now, she decided, was not a good time to voice that opinion.
“Garduchi's the one who's going to be sorry when I put him behind bars.” His gaze narrowed on her. “Contact your aunt, tell her to bring the evidence if she doesn't want to read about you in the obituaries.”
Katrina forced herself to think. It was evident Lewis wasn't totally sane. He'd threatened to kill her if she couldn't reach Leona, and Katrina was certain that he would do just that. She had to buy some time. “I can't contact her directly. I call my home answering machine and leave a message to remind myself to pick up my dry cleaning when I get home. That's our signal that I feel the coast is clear for us to meet.” Katrina paused, then asked, “What day is this?”
“Tuesday.”
He'd kidnapped her on Monday. She felt like she'd been out for days but it had only been one night. “My aunt wouldn't check my messages until Friday. When she hears the signal, then she'll be at our designated location on Sunday at two o'clock.”
“And where is this designated location?”
Think!
She needed someplace in the states, but far enough away that it would require a long drive or, if he waited until closer to time for the meet, air travel would be required to get there. A country and western song popped into her mind. “Santa Fe.”
“New Mexico?”
“Yes.”
A knowing look came over his face. “She's in Mexico, isn't she?”
“I don't know where she is at this moment.”
He frowned. “But it doesn't make sense that she'd come back across the border if she's already out of the country.”
“Then she's probably still here. We do have an extradition law with Mexico and she's not the type to risk spending even one night in a Mexican jail.”
His gaze turned coldly cynical. “I suppose you and your kind would know all about jails. It's probably part of your childhood training.”
“I was never part of Garduchi's organization.”
“You were born into it. It's in your blood.”
“It was never in my blood,” she snapped.
He shrugged, letting her know that anything she had to say meant nothing to him. “Make the call.”
Katrina obeyed.
“If you'd like to use the facilities, go ahead. But don't try anything funny. I won't peek, but I insist on keeping the door open a crack.”
The residual effect of the pills was still strong. Katrina had to concentrate hard to make her legs carry her into the adjoining bathroom. It too was all pink and white. Her gaze searched for a weapon. Lewis was thorough. There was nothing she could use. Splashing cold water on her face, neck and arms, she tried to wake her body up. It worked a little. Taking her time, she used the facilities. Then she splashed more cold water on herself. Her body continued to respond sluggishly...too sluggish for her to attempt any long-distance lunge.
Leaving the bathroom, she considered getting close enough that she could fall into him. Her coordination wasn't good enough for a struggle but if she knocked the gun free and luck was with her, she might reach it before he did. As if he'd read her mind, he kept enough distance between them to make that plan unworkable.
He motioned for her to precede him out of the room.
A clue. She needed to leave a clue for Boyd so that he'd know she'd been in Lewis's house. Momentarily, pretending to be having an extremely bad dizzy spell, she leaned against the doorjamb and held her head in her hands. Surreptitiously loosening the remaining earring, she lowered her hand and let it drop on the floor, then scooted it into a corner of the door frame.

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