Читать книгу Enemy Infiltration - Carol Ericson - Страница 12

Lana kicked the empty box with her foot, flipping it over. She should’ve known someone would snatch Gil’s journal. Maybe if she hadn’t blabbed to anyone who would listen about what she knew and how, Gil’s journal wouldn’t have come under any scrutiny. She’d led them right to it—and the only proof she had that the attack on the outpost wasn’t random.

“You’re sure it’s not in one of these smaller pouches?” Logan poked at Gil’s stuff with his finger, toppling one of the piles.

“I looked in each one as I pulled it out, but you’re welcome to do it again.” She folded her arms over Gil’s beret and dipped her head, the scratchy wool tickling her chin. “I messed up. I shouldn’t have mentioned that journal to anyone.”

“Maybe there’s another box on its way. Maybe the mail person delivered the second box to the house in the front. Does that ever happen?” Logan righted the empty box and placed his hands inside, as if he thought there might be a false bottom.

“The mail person doesn’t make mistakes but my stuff does have a habit of winding up at the big house.” Lana clenched her teeth at the thought of Bruce pawing through Gil’s belongings.

Logan sprang to his feet and extended his hand to her. “Do you want to ask them?”

“You’re coming with me?”

He cocked his head. “If you want me to.”

She couldn’t wait to parade Captain Logan Hess in front of Bruce, even though she couldn’t pass off Logan as anything more than a friend, not even that, really, but she’d relish the expression on Bruce’s face when he got a look at Logan and his rippling muscles. Not that she could see those muscles under his shirt—but she could imagine them and she had a wild imagination.

“Of course I want you to. You don’t want to stay here by yourself, do you?” She grabbed his hand, and he pulled her to her feet.

She dropped the beret on the couch, but didn’t drop Logan’s hand—not yet. The strength and warmth of his fingers sent a zap of courage through her body, and she sorely needed some of that right now.

This must be how it feels to have someone on your side.

He squeezed her hand. “Are you okay? That had to be rough going through your brother’s personal effects.”

“I’m all right. I’ll feel better once I get my hands on his journal.”

Logan had taken off his jacket when they’d walked into the house and he grabbed it from the back of the chair. She hadn’t bothered shedding hers but zipped it up now to meet the cold—and Bruce McGowan.

As they tromped down her driveway toward the main house, Logan said, “I’m assuming the people in the big house own this ranch.”

“They do.”

“And you do…what?”

“I train horses here. My father worked for the current owner’s father, Douglas McGowan, who kept me on after my father went to the restaurant. Douglas died just a few months after my father’s death.”

“So, you’ve been here two years on your own. You’re lucky. You must like it to have stayed on.”

A muscle twitched in her jaw, and she rubbed it away. “It’s a job and I need a job. I’m sending money to my mom in Mexico, so she can take care of abuelita.”

“You’re saying you don’t like it?”

“I like the horses.” She put a finger to her lips as they rounded the corner of the yellow house.

She climbed the two steps to the porch, and the familiar butterflies swirled around her stomach as she jabbed her knuckle against the doorbell.

The bell rang deep in the house, and Lana squared her shoulders and shoved her hands in her pockets, knowing Bruce was peering at her through the peephole, or soon would be.

Seconds later, the door swung open and Bruce’s big frame filled the doorway. His face broke into a grin. “Lana-Madonna, what brings you to my castle? You must…”

His words trailed off as the step behind Lana squeaked and Logan hovered behind her.

“Bruce, this is Logan Hess. Logan, Bruce McGowan.”

As Bruce lurched past her to grab Logan’s hand, his shoulder brushed hers.

“Nice to meet you, Logan. Friend of our little horse trainer?”

Lana held her breath as Logan seemed to suck in his with a sharp breath.

“Yeah.” Logan dropped his hand from Bruce’s and placed it on the small of her back.

Bruce’s gaze flicked to the gesture, and then the smile, a bit stiffer this time, returned to his face. “What can I do you for on this fine winter afternoon?”

“I received a delivery today—a box—and I was wondering if by any chance there was a second box delivered here by mistake.”

“Those mail people—give them one job to do and you’d think they could do it right instead of screwing it up all the time.” Bruce glanced at Logan and shrugged. “They’re always delivering Lana’s mail up here to the big house.”

“Yeah, funny how that works though. I never seem to get your mail. Anyway, did you get a box delivered?”

“Nope.”

“Did you pick up the mail or did Dale? Where is Dale?”

“She’s upstairs…resting.” Bruce’s jawline hardened. “Dale didn’t pick up the mail. She’s pretty much been…resting since she took the kids to school—and they’re still there in case you’re wondering.”

“I figured that.” The butterflies returned and she pressed a hand against her belly. “You’ll let me know if you get something of mine.”

“Always, Lana. Anytime you need anything from me, well almost anything, my door’s always open.” Bruce winked.

Logan’s body, just behind hers, tensed, his fingers curling into her hip.

Bruce stepped back inside the house as his face momentarily lost its ruddy color. “Nice to meet you, Logan. Any friend of Lana’s is a friend of ours. You have a good day now.”

He practically slammed the door in their faces, and Lana released a pent-up breath.

She pivoted on the porch and marched to her house with Logan hot on her heels, but silent.

When they reached her porch, he grabbed her arm. “What the hell was that all about? Who does that guy think he is? He’s lucky he still has his front teeth after the way he talked to you. Our little horse trainer? I’m surprised you didn’t smack him after that one.”

“He’s my employer.” She lifted a shoulder. “And my landlord. He and Dale let me live here for free. It was an arrangement his father had with mine, but I’m sure Bruce could end that arrangement anytime he wanted, especially since he’s selling off most of his horses.”

“He clearly doesn’t want to end the arrangement. He likes having you at his beck and call, doesn’t he?”

“You caught that, huh?” She dragged her lower lip between her teeth. She would hate for Logan to believe she and Bruce had anything between them—like the ranching community here believed.

“It’s just as clear to me that you don’t want to be here. So why not move? Find another job?”

She swallowed the lump in her throat. “It’s not that easy to find a job as a horse trainer, Logan, and free rent? Impossible. I have an advantageous setup here and putting up with Bruce once in a while is worth it.”

And worth it for the other big perk.

Logan narrowed his eyes. “What does putting up with Bruce once in a while entail? Does he steal your mail?”

“That’s one of the little games he plays with me.” Lana sank to the top step and curled an arm around the wooden banister post. “He takes pieces of my mail, claiming it was a mistake on the part of the mail person, and then lets me know he has them to force me to go up to the big house.”

“Tell him to put the mail back in your mailbox.” Logan took a seat beside her on the porch, his shoulder bumping hers, which caused a completely different feeling to surge through her body from the one occasioned by Bruce doing the same thing.

“He always has an excuse why he can’t do that. Bottom line—if I want my mail, I have to get it from him.”

“He sounds like an ass. He is an ass and needs his kicked.”

Lana’s lips curved into a smile. “I’d like to see that, but for now I just avoid him as much as possible.”

“Do you believe he doesn’t have a second box of Gil’s?”

“I’m not sure if I do or not. Your presence threw him for a loop. It wouldn’t be any fun for him to invite me in and give me the box if you were by my side. That’s something he’d prefer to do without an audience.”

Logan’s eyebrows collided over his nose. “Has he ever gotten physical with you? Do you have anything to fear from him other than his slimy words and manner?”

Lana ran her tongue around the inside of her mouth, the sour taste almost gagging her. “Only one time.”

“What did he do?” Logan’s body vibrated beside hers as if he were ready to take on Bruce right here and now.

“He…he put his hands around my waist and pulled me in for a kiss.” She rolled her lips inward at the memory and put her hand over her mouth.

“Bastard. Did you slug him?”

“I was too shocked to react quickly enough. I did push him away and told him I’d report him to Dale if he ever tried that again.”

“What did he do?”

“Laughed, but he never tried it again.”

“Yet.” Logan kicked at a rock with the toe of his boot. “What’s the story with his wife and why is she resting?”

“Dale’s an alcoholic. They have…two adorable kids, but Dale spends most of her time hitting the bottle and partying with her friends.” She pinned her hands between her knees and tapped her boots together. “Honestly, I don’t think she cares what Bruce does. I’m pretty sure she has an affair or two under her belt.”

“So to speak.” Logan smirked. “Doesn’t sound like you have much leverage with the wife.”

“Yeah, except Bruce doesn’t want to give Dale any excuse for a divorce. They don’t have a prenup and Bruce stands to lose a lot—half of everything—in a divorce. That’s why he puts up with her behavior, too.”

“Sounds like a great marriage, a match made in hell, but I don’t give a damn about Bruce or Dale or their hellish marriage. I do give a damn about your safety and the way he treats you.”

She patted Logan’s thigh. “Thanks. He’s not going to try anything else. He just plays his little games with me and enjoys watching me squirm because he knows I have nowhere else to go.”

“I got a totally different vibe from you when I watched you outside of Congressman Cordova’s office. I didn’t see you as someone who’d take guff from anyone.” He turned on the step and took her by the shoulders. “You need to get out of here, Lana. Find another job, move. This is unhealthy.”

She flattened a hand against her stomach. She hated for anyone to see her as weak, especially a man like Logan Hess, who probably charged through life on his own terms. But she’d been weak plenty of times in her life, and she didn’t want Logan to know about those times, either.

Resting her head against the post, she asked, “Are you married, Logan? Do you have…children?”

His head jerked. “No.”

She ignored the little sigh of relief that sprang to her lips and continued, “Have you ever had anyone dependent on you?”

“My Delta Force team. We’re dependent on each other.”

“If you had to do something you didn’t like, had to just suck it up and get on with it to protect one of your team members, you’d do it, wouldn’t you?”

“I’d do anything for them.” His thumbs pressed against her collarbone through her jacket. “What are you getting at?”

“That’s me.” She waved an arm toward the ranch. “Here.”

His gaze shifted over her shoulder to take in the expanse of the ranch. “You’re protecting someone here?”

“I have responsibilities here. I’m sending money to my mom and my grandmother in Mexico. I can’t just quit work. I have horses here…relationships.” She tossed her head like one of those horses, flicking her hair over her shoulder. “I can handle Bruce McGowan. It’s the U.S. Government I’m worried about.”

“Okay. I’m sorry.” He dropped his hands from her shoulders. “It’s none of my business how you conduct yours. I hate guys like McGowan, who abuse their power.”

Logan’s green eyes burned with a passion that had to go deeper than what he’d just witnessed between her and Bruce. Any injustice seemed to instill in Logan a desire to correct it. That same feeling must be driving him to exonerate Major Denver.

“I appreciate your concern. Like I said, I can handle Bruce…and Smith & Wesson if it comes to that.”

The crease between his eyebrows vanished. “That’s good to hear not only because of Bruce’s attentions, but because you are kind of isolated out here.”

“There are some quarters for the ranch hands behind the stables. It’s not as isolated as you might think.”

“Do you mind if I take another look at that box?”

She pushed up from the porch and dusted off the seat of her jeans. “C’mon back in.”

Once inside the house, Logan crouched beside the box she’d sliced open with such anticipation. He studied the tape hanging from the flaps, and then shoved the box toward her. “Does that look retaped to you?”

Lana ran her fingertip along the tape and looked up. “It could’ve been. Do you think someone opened the box, searched it and taped it back up?”

“Could’ve happened. Someone did a slick job of it if that’s what occurred, but there’s some roughness that could be some cardboard ripped off the box.”

“It’s worse than if McGowan is holding on to a second box, isn’t it? The motivation is a hundred times more sinister.” She pinged the side of the box with her fingernail. “And if someone took Gil’s journal, I’ll never have any proof that his death was part of some organized attack.”

“Lana, are you sure your brother kept a journal?”

“I’m positive. He always did, and since he suspected something amiss on this assignment, he wouldn’t have quit at this precise moment.”

“Unless he sensed the danger of keeping a journal.”

“What if I never find it? What if it’s gone forever?” She fell to her knees next to the piles of Gil’s belongings and ran her hands over the items. “I won’t be able to help you with your investigation, either.”

“Don’t worry about that.” Logan rose to his feet. “I just wanted to touch base with you to find out why you were so adamant in the belief that there was something more to that attack. I didn’t expect you to have any proof…just a sister’s grief.”

A hot tear coursed down her cheek and she let it drop off her chin. That’s twice she’d allowed this man to see her cry—some kind of record.

In two steps, he was towering above her and gently urged her to her feet. She swayed as she rose beside him, and he enfolded her in his arms.

“I’m so sorry for your loss.” He whispered the words in her ear.

She nodded against his solid chest. “Thank you. I know as a serviceman, you understand maybe more than most do.”

Sniffling, she pulled away from his warm comfort, trying to avoid wiping her nose on his shirt. Trying not to be too dependent.

He stepped back, leaving a cold void between them. “I—I’d better get going. I’ll leave you my cell phone number in case anything else comes up, and you do the same.”

“How long will you be staying in Greenvale?” Now, suddenly having that journal in her hands meant more than uncovering the mysterious circumstances behind the marine guards’ deaths. It meant keeping in contact with Logan Hess. Once she had nothing to offer him, he’d take off in search of the next clue.

How quickly that feeling had come back—that she had to have something to offer to make someone stick around. She hadn’t learned anything.

“I’ll be here for a few days. I hope to talk to Congressman Cordova myself.”

She brushed a hand across her wet cheek. “Maybe I can reciprocate and buy you lunch while you’re still here.”

“I’d like that.” He jerked his thumb in the direction of the big house. “You’ll be okay here?”

“I live here. I’ll be fine.”

Five minutes later, she pressed the piece of paper with Logan’s cell phone number on it to her heart and watched him fold his large frame into the little rental car that looked too small for him.

She lifted her hand as he went around the line of trees and disappeared from view. Then she spun around and dived into Gil’s possessions, returning most of his things to the box.

After packing away Gil’s belongings, checking on the few horses left at the ranch and eating dinner, Lana made some tea and curled up with her laptop.

Her activity had driven Logan from her thoughts—temporarily. She’d better get Logan out of her head—at least until their lunch. He’d be on his way soon, and she’d be among his vague memories and one of many people he’d encountered while trying to clear his commander’s name.

But a girl could dream—or at least do a little investigating on her own.

She powered on her laptop and entered Logan’s name and Dallas, Texas, in a search engine, her eyes widening at the number of articles scrolling down her display. No wonder Logan believed she could just pick up and leave. No wonder he felt a person shouldn’t have to put up with an uncomfortable situation.

Easy for him to lecture her about principles—he had all the money in the world to buy them.

Sighing, she snapped shut the lid of her computer and swept it off her lap. Now she had to try all over again to get Logan off her brain, and after discovering more about him that became even more important. Given Logan’s background and situation, he could never be right for her.

She got another cup of tea and settled back on the couch, this time losing herself in the English accents and costumes of a period drama on TV. As she clicked onto the next episode, frantic banging on her front door disturbed the English countryside.

Knots tightened in her belly. She hoped none of the horses had been taken ill. She kicked off the blanket wrapped around her waist and strode toward the front door.

With her hand on the doorknob, she peeked through the window and her heart skipped several beats as she looked at the tear-streaked faces of Carla and Daniel McGowan. Bruce had better not be on one of his rampages, terrifying the children.

Lana jerked open the door. “What’s wrong, kids? Where are your parents?”

Carla placed a hand on her little brother’s shoulder just like Lana used to do with Gil. “Daddy’s not home. They’ve taken Mama. We hid in the closet.”

Lana’s fluttering heart banged against her chest. She gathered the children toward her and into the house and slammed the door. “What are you talking about? Who took your mother?”

She crouched in front of Daniel and wrapped her arms around his shaking body. Had Dale gotten involved in drugs along with her drinking? Bruce’s wife had been associating with some rough characters in the dive bars she favored.

“I don’t know, Lana.” Carla sniffled and wiped the back of her hand across her nose. “Mama was downstairs watching TV. I heard the doorbell ring and then loud noises when she went to answer the door. When I looked through the banister from upstairs, two men were in the house and they were hurting Mama.”

Lana put a hand to her throat. Dear God, what had Carla witnessed? “Is that when you hid?”

Carla nodded. “I made Daniel get away from the stairs and we hid in the closet.”

“Did these men look for you?” Keeping Daniel by her side, Lana walked backward toward the kitchen and her phone charging on the counter. Carla followed them.

“They stayed downstairs, yelling at Mama. I kept quiet.” She patted her brother’s head. “And I kept Daniel quiet, too. Then I heard the front door close and I couldn’t hear anything else. When we went downstairs, they were gone—Mama, too.”

Lana held up her phone and her hand had only a slight tremble. “Have you called 911 yet? Your father?”

“I couldn’t find Mama’s cell phone and I didn’t want to stay in the house, so we ran over here.” Carla dropped her lashes. “Is that okay?”

“Okay? That’s super amazing. That’s precisely what you should’ve done.” Lana blinked back her tears.

Lana called 911 and told them as much of the story as she could. Bruce might’ve preferred to handle this on his own without the police, especially if one of Dale’s lovers or some drug dealer had her, but he’d just have to suck up the embarrassment on this one. It sounded like Dale was in serious trouble.

“The police are on their way, sweetie.” Lana curled her free arm around Carla’s stiff little body, inhaling the sweet scent from her hair. “You are so brave, Carla. Did you hear what the men were saying to your mama? The police are going to ask you some questions.”

“They kept asking her about a gerbil. Where was the gerbil? Where had she put the gerbil? We don’t have a gerbil.”

“Of course not.” Lana bit her lower lip. That made no sense. “Did you get a look at the men?”

“They had masks on.” Carla formed her fingers into circles and put them over her eyes. “Like when you go skiing and it’s really cold.”

Daniel had been patting Lana on the back, so Lana squeezed him tighter. “Are you okay, Daniel? You’re very brave, too.”

She didn’t want to play favorites.

“They didn’t say gerbil, Carla.”

“What, sweetie?” Taking Daniel’s hand, Lana sat back on her heels. “You didn’t hear gerbil?”

“They didn’t say, where’s the gerbil? They said, where’s the journal? They hit Mama on the face and said, ‘Give us the journal, bitch.’”