The Tangled Web: an international web of intrigue, murder and romance (32 page)

 She collapsed back into the chair, gazing into space. Love, she decided wistfully, was not accountable to anyone or any circumstances. Love, according to those words she’d listened to countless times at weddings, was simply what it was.
Love
bears up under anything and everything that comes, is ever ready to believe the best of every person, its hopes are fadeless under all circumstances, and it endures everything
.

She sat contemplating the meaning of the passage for a long time before she slowly got up and went to her desk. She rifled through a drawer and found a card. On the front of the card, was a reproduction of a watercolor painting of a Bluequit. Indecisively, Lauren studied the card, then fearing her nerve would fail her, she hurriedly grabbed a pen and began to write.

Dear Logan,

I was deeply shocked to hear of Gordon’s death and I wish to offer my deepest sympathy. I’m sure this must be a very difficult time for you, Virginia and the rest of your family.

I want to take this opportunity to apologize for not calling you and to tell you why I haven’t. My lack of response to your messages was not because I was ignoring them. Neither was it because I was too busy to call. After giving it much thought, I realize there is nowhere for our relationship to go. I’m at fault in not having been brave enough to share my feelings before. I should have, because you are undeserving of the discourtesy I’ve shown.

Lauren paused, debating whether to say more. She decided it could do no harm.

Please forgive me for having acted in this way, Logan. I don’t want you to ever have the impression my feelings for you were not sincere, because they were, and still are.

All the best,

Lauren

Trevor pulled the Range Rover up to the kitchen door at Vale Verde and reached into the back for the suit, still hanging on the drycleaner’s hanger, and a suitcase. Whistling a catchy tune, he stepped inside the house as Clara opened the door for him. “What yuh got there, Trevor?” she asked eyeing the suitcase.

“Mr. Logan’s clothes for the funeral,” Trevor informed her officiously. He pulled an envelope from his shirt pocket. “I have something else for him. Where is he?”

Clara made to take the envelope from him, but Trevor held onto it firmly. “Stand back, woman,” he ordered fending her off. “I have to give it to him miself. Ivy seh mek sure a give it to im personally.”

“What happen? Yuh nuh trus me to give it to him, Trevor?” Clara asked meeting his gaze with a flirtatious laugh in her eyes.

Grinning, Trevor looked her up and down. “Is not dat I don’t trus you. Which man wouldn’t trus a luscious woman like you?”

“Oh stop, yuh old sweet mouth, yuh!” Clara admonished him with an indifferent flick of the wrist and a smile lurking at the corners of her mouth. “Yuh talk nuttin but foolishness. Is where yuh wife?”

“I don’t have nuh wife. But I’m looking for one,” Trevor grinned.

Clara clicked her tongue dismissively and took the suitcase. “I’ll tell Mr. Logan you’re here. Get yourself something to drink if you’re thirsty. There’s lemonade in the fridge. I jus made it.”

“I hope it sweet like you,” Trevor laughed after her as she disappeared inside the house with the suitcase and Logan’s suit.

Logan found Trevor in the kitchen, head tilted upward as he downed the last of the glass of lemonade. “Clara says you have something for me?”

“Yes, Mr. Armstrong,” Trevor said quickly putting the glass down. He slid the envelope out of his pocket and handed it to Logan. “Ivy said to make sure I gave it to you personally.”

Logan barely glanced at the envelope as he asked, “You heading back to the cottage today?”

“I’m heading back after lunch if you don’t need me, sir.”

“Thanks, but I think I’ll be okay for now. Did Ivy have any messages for me?”

“Yes, she wants to know when she is to come back for the funeral. She’s asking for you to call her when you have a chance.”

“I’ll call, but tell her she can come back any time she likes. I don’t know why she left in the first place.”

There was nobody around when Logan sat down on the verandah to see what the envelope held. He immediately noticed it was not addressed. Curiously, he pulled out the card, his eyes rounding in surprise as he saw the Bluequit. It was the very bird he had glimpsed in the garden a few days before. Wondering who the card was from, he opened it and began to read. A shadow passed across Logan’s face. What was Lauren telling him that she had omitted to say in her nicely coined phrases? He decided if he were to have any peace of mind, he would have to find out.

FORTY-SEVEN

Lauren frowned in puzzlement as she pulled into her driveway and saw the midnight blue Benz sitting in it. She could not identify the driver because the windows were so heavily tinted. She got out of her car and walked tentatively up to the strange car. The driver’s window rolled down.

“Since you still insist on not returning my calls, I decided I had no choice but to come and see you.” The hazel eyes looked up at her with a neutral expression.

Lauren inhaled sharply. “Logan!”

“Yes. Logan. Remember him? As the saying goes, if Mohammed will not go to the mountain, the mountain must come to Mohammed.”

Lauren’s heart began thundering. “This is a surprise…” she stuttered. “I… I don’t know what to say.”

“I hope that will change quickly, because you and I need to talk. Well, are you going to invite me in or just stand there gawking at me as if I’m some alien from outer space?”

“This is a nice place you have here,” he said, taking in the living area furnished in dark-stained rattan with coverings of bright tropical prints.

“Thanks,” Lauren replied uncomfortably. “Everything is made locally. I believe in supporting local craft.”

“Was this made here too?” he asked touching a dark mahogany side table with contrasting natural cane inserts.

“Yes,” she answered distractedly as she spied the empty Pinot Noir bottle on her way to the liquor cabinet. The cabinet was as sadly under-stocked as it had been two nights before. “Logan, I’m embarrassed to say I have nothing to offer you,” she apologized while hurriedly placing the wine bottle out of sight.

“Don’t worry about it,” he muttered, absorbed by her art collection. “Coffee is fine if you have any.”

After a few minutes, Lauren came out of the kitchen with a coffeepot and two mugs on a tray and set them on the coffee table. She looked at Logan uncertainly. “Well, have a seat,” she said awkwardly.

Her hand shook slightly as she began to pour. “You take yours black, don’t you?”

“Yes, black’s good, thank you,” he replied taking his mug. He waited for her to fill hers before getting to his point. “I’m sorry I intruded on you like this, but I had to see you.”

She put her mug down. Her hand was now shaking so much she was afraid he would notice.

“I got your note.”

Not wishing to meet his, she lowered her eyes. “Well then, there’s nothing further to say is there?”

“Why don’t you want to see me anymore?”

Lauren steadied her voice with difficulty. “I thought I made that clear in my note.”

“You said you didn’t think our relationship could go anywhere. That didn’t tell me much. In fact, it didn’t tell me anything. There has to have been a reason for your decision.”

“Logan, please, I don’t want to talk about this.”

He leaned towards her earnestly. “I know we haven’t known each other that long, but don’t you think I deserve to know?”

“Logan, please leave it alone. It’s too upsetting to talk about.”

“What is it that you find so upsetting you can’t talk about it?”

Lauren looked down at her hands.

“Don’t you think this warrants some discussion?” Logan pressed.

“Logan, I think you’d better leave,” she said getting up to usher him out.

“Okay, if that’s what you want, I suppose there’s nothing more to say,” he said rising to leave.

She wavered as he reached the door, “Logan… maybe.”

He hesitated with his hand on the doorknob.

“Maybe we should talk,” she said with resignation.

Logan was silent for a long time after she finished speaking. His fear that she believed he was involved in the assassination had been realized. He wondered if this was why she no longer wished to see him, though it didn’t make sense considering she had been involved too. Wishing to be sure of her reason, he asked, “Is this why you’ve been avoiding me?”

“I can’t have any kind of relationship with someone who would do such a thing,” she said near to tears. “What made you to do it, Logan? Didn’t you already have enough? How much could a person need for heaven’s sake?”

“What are you talking about?” he asked in bewilderment.

She bit her lip. “I’m talking about you and Frank Sterling.”

Logan’s mouth flew open. “Frank Sterling? Why would you think I have anything to do with Frank Sterling?”

He stopped abruptly and stared at her in disbelief. “Sweet Jesus, Lauren! Are you telling me you think I’m involved in drug trafficking? Is that how little you think of me?”

Reeling from the unbelievable affront, he got up and walked away from her. She was right. It was impossible for them to have a relationship with so little respect and trust, but the least he could do for himself was set her straight. If nothing else, he had to find out how much she knew. His face was taut as he turned to face her. “I would like to know what brought you to that conclusion, not to mention condemn me without even so much as a discussion.”

Lauren’s throat tightened with fear.

With stony eyes Logan persisted, “I want an answer from you.”

“Lauren, I don’t take an accusation like that lightly. You owe me an explanation.”

“Everything points to it, Logan,” she said, her voice trembling.

“What exactly is
everything
?”

He waited for her to answer, but she went no further.

Logan exhaled as he sat again and faced her. “Look, you need to tell me what this is all about.”

“I can’t discuss it with you or anyone else. It’s not something I can talk about – ever. I’m sorry.”

“I’m going to appeal to you to do something you did not do for me, and that is trust me,” Logan said taking a deep breath. “Nothing you say will leave this room. You have my word on that.”

She gazed out the window with a tormented look. For a while it seemed as though she had forgotten he was there. When she spoke again, her voice was barely audible. “Okay, I’ll tell you why I believe you were involved. It has to do with my trip to London. I went there to deliver a package.”

Logan stiffened. He had already figured that out a long time ago, but why she had connected the package to him was a matter of great concern. “Why would you think a package you delivered had anything to do with me or the assassination?” he asked. “What did it contain?”

“I have no idea what was in it, except for a check exceeding the U.K. currency limit. It was necessary for me to be forewarned about that.” Misreading the intensity of his gaze, she said, “I know you must think me a fool, but I trusted the person who asked me to make the delivery implicitly. I would never have dreamed they were involved in something underhanded.”

“I still don’t understand why you think this had anything to do with me.”

She hesitated, knowing she was already treading on dangerous ground. Deciding it was too late to retrench, she said, “When I got back from London, I went to see the person who asked me to make the delivery. When I arrived at their house, they were on the phone. They were so engrossed in conversation they didn’t know I’d arrived. I’m ashamed to say I eavesdropped on them, but something they said caught my attention. I overheard them ask the person they were talking with to make sure someone in New York knew the London delivery had been made, or words to that effect. Even though they had no reason to think anyone was listening, they were careful not to mention names. But what made me think they were referring to you is they wanted to know what the person in New York thought about the suspicion surrounding their brother-in-law’s shipping company.”

“I understand why you would have made that connection, but I’m not the only person in the country who has an in-law in shipping.”

“That’s true, but how many of them live in New York?”

Logan had no answer. “And where does Frank Sterling fit into this in your mind?” he asked uneasily.

“I figured with everything that has unfolded recently, it had to have been him the person was talking to.”

No, it was not Frank Sterling Margaret Thomas had been talking with, Logan well knew. It was Allan, but there was no way of Lauren knowing that. Logan clasped his hands as he surveyed her face. Lauren had just pulled the rug from under him, but she had yet to explain why she thought the package had something to do with Freeman’s death. “What you’ve told me still doesn’t explain why you connected the package with the assassination,” he said.

Lauren met his gaze. With a deep breath, she decided to take the final plunge. She needed closure. She needed to hear the truth – from him. Perhaps by hearing her truth, he would share his.

“The man who I delivered the package to was the same man who killed Erick Freeman,” she at last said.

Logan’s chest tightened. “Why would you think it was the same person?”

“This is going to sound irrelevant I know, but it’s very relevant. The man I met in London was extremely good looking. What stood out about him most were his eyes. I’ve never seen eyes like his. They were like clear amber. But it wasn’t just his looks. He was the whole package.”

“What has that got to do with it?” Logan cut in agitatedly.

“Here’s what it has to do with it. Chief Inspector Palmer had mentioned it was possible the shots had been fired from the Foster & Foster building. I don’t think he had shared that information with any other media at the time, so I wanted to beat everybody else to it. The morning following the assassination, I went to Foster & Foster to see if the staff had seen anything unusual. The only person who was able to speak with me was the receptionist. It was what she had to say that made me realize it was the same man.”