Run the Risk (20 page)

They drove in silence for a good fifteen minutes before Reese
chuckled.

“Fuck you.” While staring out the windshield, Logan went over
all that had to be done, everything he needed to address today—things that Reese
would know about and some he wouldn’t.

His foul mood only enhanced Reese’s hilarity. “She has you on
the run.”

Maybe. But he wouldn’t discuss that with anyone. “Where’s your
car?”

“I left it in a lot near where I picked up Rowdy’s car. You can
drop me off there. I’ll head home to check on my dog, clean up and change,
before coming to the station.”

“The dog’s been closed up all this time?”

Reese grunted. “I wouldn’t have an apartment left if I’d tried
that.” He turned his cell back on, glanced at it, then shook his head. “A
neighbor lady has him. Alice-something-or-other.”

“She’s watching your dog, but you don’t know her name?”

“Thanks to you, I was left to quick improvisation. She was
handy, she likes Cash, so…” Reese shrugged. “She and the dog get along great.
She has the magic touch with him, and believe me, Cash needs a little
gentleness. I don’t know how I’d have worked it, but I wouldn’t have just left
him alone that long. He’d feel abandoned. So it’s a good thing Alice was
around.”

It left Logan curious, hearing such an outpouring over a dog
Reese had just gotten and a neighbor he’d never before mentioned. “Does she have
a dog of her own?”

“No. But it’s clear she loves animals.”

“A good quality, right?” How would Pepper feel about a pet?
Maybe a cat or dog—or both. He had a feeling she’d love it, and that gave him
something to consider.

“She’s a single woman, super tidy, so you’d think she’d be on
me to come get him, right? But last night when I called to check on him, I woke
her. And get this—she’d taken Cash to bed with her because that’s where he
wanted to sleep.”

Single and over-the-top friendly to his dog—seemed clear enough
to Logan. “She’s on the make.”

“Definitely not. Hell, most of the time she won’t even
acknowledge me. If it wasn’t for Cash, she still wouldn’t. She’s a strange one,
I’ll give her that.”

“Define
strange.
”

Reese pondered that. “I guess self-contained covers it. And
alert—like a cop, but in a different way. Maybe with more worry than
caution.”

“But you trusted her with your dog?”

“Cash loved her on sight. What can I say?” Reese grew
introspective. “It’s a hell of a conundrum.”

Sounded to Logan like Cash wasn’t the only one taken with the
woman. They drove another twenty minutes in relative silence, each lost in their
own thoughts, before Logan asked, “Have you heard from Peterson?”

“Strangely enough, no. My cell was off, of course, and we were
on our own time…but, yeah, I half expected a dozen messages when I turned my
phone back on.” He glanced out the window, indifferent.

“She’ll probably chew both our asses when we get in.”

“Because of the club snafu, you mean?” Reese shook his head. “I
doubt she knows we were anywhere near there.”

“The thing is…” Logan flexed his hands on the steering wheel.
“Morton Andrews died last night.”

“The hell you say!” Reese scowled in surprise. “I saw the site,
Logan, and the situation could have gone either way. It’s not like the floor was
obliterated.”

“It was a homemade bomb. He died at the hospital after getting
hit with shrapnel.” While gauging Reese’s reaction, Logan shared the few details
he’d gotten from Rowdy on the second death.

Reese shook his head. “We’ll need to find the sniper, but I
doubt anyone will miss either of the men.” Rife with disgust, he muttered, “As
far as I’m concerned, good riddance to them both.”

He was good—but there was something missing in his response.
“You knew about Morton’s newest venture into human trafficking?”

Reese didn’t deny it, but he did clarify. “I didn’t know much,
only that he hoped to dabble. Why?”

“You didn’t think to share it with me?”

“You’re not a slacker, Logan. You know the club dealt in
prostitution, and you knew Morton was brutal. It only made sense that he’d cut
corners where he could.”

“By buying women?”

Reese took in his skepticism. “Don’t tell me you’re
surprised?”

That Morton Andrews would peddle flesh? No. But that Reese had
info he hadn’t shared? Yeah, that was an unpleasant revelation. “You should have
told me.”

“The way you researched him, I assumed you knew, as well. And
with you on your stakeout of Pepper Yates, we didn’t really have a lot of time
to chat.”

Bullshit. They’d talked, but Reese hadn’t mentioned it. “I got
sidetracked a few times. What do you know about it?”

“Only had a few leads, nothing concrete.” Reese rolled a
shoulder. “I hadn’t checked into it yet, but one of my snitches told me that
suspected traffickers were contacted by Andrews’s cronies.” Reese gave him a
quick look. “Speaking of snitches…have you checked this truck for GPS
tracking?”

“Yeah.” No way in hell would he have taken Pepper to the lake
house if he hadn’t known she would be safe there. “Rowdy had me tagged with a
mini-device, but he’d already removed it. There wasn’t anything else.”

“Damn. He actually told you that?”

“He says he’s come clean about everything.” And for the most
part, Logan believed him. So far, everything he’d said had added up.

“Guess he wasn’t taking any chances with his sister.”

“No, Rowdy Yates is not a man to take chances.” Logan could
only be grateful for Rowdy’s diligence. “Turns out he had reason to mistrust me,
right?”

Reese directed all his attention on Logan. “He had reason to
doubt your motives—that’s a different thing entirely. His gut told him you
weren’t being up front.”

“Because I wasn’t.” Logan slowed at an exit ramp. Thanks to the
highways, the lake house wasn’t far from where he lived and worked, but it was
secluded. “Gut instincts are usually dead-on.”

Reese conceded the point. “I’ve never understood why so many
people ignore them.”

Logan felt the same—which was why he had to take Rowdy’s
concerns about Reese seriously.

“But now he knows what motivated you,” Reese pointed out. “And
in all instances, the end goal makes a difference.”

“You think so?” Logan didn’t feel very righteous about any of
it. If he could turn back time…then what?

If he’d never gone after Rowdy, he’d never have met Pepper.
She’d remain in hiding, living her life as a lie.

“I know so. Rowdy might be too involved to have a clearheaded
perspective, but you’re not, so stop berating yourself.”

Did Reese hope to justify deceptions of his own? “There’s never
a good reason for hurting a woman.”

“There’s hurt, and then there’s hurt.” Reese smiled. “Last
night, Pepper proved she’s not exactly a delicate flower.”

She’d proved…something. Logan didn’t know what. “Stow it.”

“In fact, Dash was afraid you’d knock a hole in the wall, the
way you two were rocking that bed.”

His temples pounded. “Shut up.”

Reese grinned. “In all seriousness, seeing her on her way to
and from your room, she appeared far from wounded. In fact, I’d say you’re all
but in the clear already. So how about we appease the lieutenant, I’ll research
that bomb, we’ll track down a sniper, and then we can both get back to our
lives.”

Logan nodded, but he knew it wouldn’t be that simple. Nothing
ever was—especially when dealing with Pepper Yates.

* * *

T
HE
CLOSER
HE
GOT
to his apartment,
the more anxious Reese became. He’d spent a near sleepless night on a too-small,
narrow couch. He’d put up with an irascible and accusing female. He’d dodged
Logan’s subtle inquisition and condemning silences. And then he’d had more
driving to do to get his car back home. He was exhausted, concerned, feeling a
little cornered, and yet…

The majority of his thoughts centered around his neighbor.

A quick glance at his watch showed it to still be early. He had
a little time before he should put in an appearance at the station.

Was Alice up? Should he call her?

Or surprise her by knocking?

Knocking, he decided.

Fighting off an absurd smile, Reese parked. Morning sunshine
already baked the parking area. It’d be another scorcher.

Despite the exhaustion, he went up the steps with a sense of
keen expectation. Was Alice still in her pajamas? What did she wear? Probably
not anything sexy. Maybe something staid and shapeless. His grin widened at that
image.

At her door, he raised his hand to knock—and heard Cash’s
berserk barking. The door opened without him knocking, and Alice stood there,
well-wrapped in a peach-colored cotton housecoat.

He barely had time to register her soft expression, mussed hair
and small bare feet before Cash leaped up against him.

Giving up his perusal of warm, sleepy woman, Reese knelt down
and showered the dog with the attention he wanted.

Cash almost knocked him over in his effort to lick his face.
Laughing, Reese stood again.

Alice handed him the leash. “He hasn’t been out yet. I wouldn’t
delay on that.”

“Hang on.” Flattening a hand on the door, Reese kept her from
shutting him out.

She looked down, let out a sigh and said, “Too late.”

Damn it. Reese looked down, too, and saw Cash now cowering in
what looked remarkably like embarrassment. “No worries, buddy. It’ll mop
up.”

Cash thumped his tail in relief—and went back to excitedly
yapping.

Reese laughed.

Alice tipped her head to study him.

Given the manners of his dog, he should have been embarrassed,
too, but what the hell? It was funny. “Leave it,” he told her. “I’ll take care
of it as soon as I come back in.”

“Okay.”

“Alice?”

She paused.

“Answer when I knock.” And then, rather than let her dismiss
him, he dismissed her by walking away.

In an absurd voice reserved only for the dog, he said, “Come
on, Cash. Let’s go, my man. That’s a good boy.”

He was all the way to the bottom of the stairs when he heard
Alice’s door click shut.

So she’d watched him go? Great.

Cash continued to bound around him, so Reese walked the dog out
to the grass and let him do as he pleased. After sprinkling a half dozen areas
to claim them, Cash chased a bee, barked at a squirrel and ran after the stick
Reese threw for him.

After a good five minutes of playing, Reese dropped down next
to a tree so Cash could get in his lap.

It was odd, but he accepted the truth—he’d missed the dog, too.
Smiling at that silly idea, he hugged Cash and even kissed the top of his furry
head.

The dog went bananas again, making him laugh.

“You really did miss me, didn’t you? Was she cruel, is that it?
Did she feed you birdseed or smack you off the couch?”

“Of course I didn’t.”

Reese looked up—and there Alice stood. She’d quickly dressed in
casual slacks and now wore slip-on shoes, but she hadn’t yet combed her
hair.

“I was teasing.” Reese patted the ground beside him. “Care to
sit with us?”

“I’m fine, thank you.”

So why had she joined them? Just to keep him from getting near
her apartment again? Interesting. “Did he behave for you?”

“That depends on your idea of behaving.” But she smiled at the
dog. “He ate a throw pillow while I was…that is…” The words fell away, and she
ducked her head.

Interest spiked, Reese said, “While you were what?”

She cleared her throat. “Away from the couch.”

Away from the couch doing
what?
“Cooking?” Thinking of the occasions when Cash had done the most damage to his
place, Reese offered, “Changing? On the phone? The computer?”

“Showering, actually.”

He’d have paid good money to see that. “So…you were in there
long?”

“Ten minutes, tops.” She turned brisk. “But after scratching at
my bathroom door, he quieted. I assumed all was well. Until I found the stuffing
everywhere.”

Great. “Sorry about that. I’ll pay for the damage.”

“No need. I made the pillow, and I have fabric left, so I’ll
just make another.”

Somehow it fit that she could sew. But what else? “You’re
sure?”

“Don’t give it another thought.”

Cash finally plopped down, his chin on Reese’s thigh. His tail
thumped hard on the ground as Reese stroked him.

“He obviously adores you.”

Was that surprise in Alice’s tone? “I’m an adorable guy.”

The slightest of smiles quirked her mouth. “Did you need me to
watch him today?”

“I wanted to talk to you about that.” He checked his watch
again. “Come on. Sit for a minute.”

Unsettled, she searched the ground and again shook her head.
“I’m fine.”

“Actually you’re skittish. Why is that?”

“I’m not!”

Whoa. Slowly, keeping his gaze on her, Reese got to his feet.
Cash went on the alert, unsure what they were doing. Hell, Reese was unsure,
too. “Could we sit on the steps then?”

She looked back at the apartment, drew a breath and nodded as
if she’d just agreed to enter a burning building.

With grave seriousness, he said, “Thank you.”

One way or another, Reese knew he’d figure out the problem. But
not now, not with such a limited time frame, not in the lot of his apartment
building with his dog craving attention.

But soon. Probably a whole lot sooner than Alice
whatever-her-last-name-might-be would like.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

B
Y
SILENT
AGREEMENT
, they headed back toward the steps. “Where do you work?”
Reese asked.

“Here.” She waited for him to sit on a step, then put herself
as far from him as she could get without actually sitting on the blacktop. “I’m
self-employed.”

“Really?” Interesting. “Doing what?”

“I’m a virtual assistant.”

Never heard of it. When he continued to stare at her in
confusion, she launched into a rehearsed explanation.

“Other people who work from home often need help with
databases, phone calls, filing and other general forms of organization. That
sort of thing.”

Enjoying how she’d opened up—in a miniscule way—Reese kept her
talking. “How’s that work?”

“It’s easy enough with the internet and email. Different
clients send their information to me and I keep their business lives running
smoothly.”

“So you’re here…pretty much all the time?” That was so
convenient, it almost felt like fate. Not that he believed in fate. If he did,
he knew he was screwed big time, given that fate so far seemed to have a sick
sense of humor.

“I… Yes.” She frowned. “I’m not sure I understand why you’re
asking.”

Reese put his hands on his thighs in sudden decision. “Here we
go. I found Cash in a box in the middle of a street. The box was taped shut, so
I know someone put him there on purpose.”

“Dear God!”

He liked that reaction because it mirrored his own. “It was
sheer luck that he hadn’t already been hit by the traffic. I saw the box move,
got suspicious and stopped. The second I lifted it, I knew there was a dog
inside, so I put him in my car, cut the tape—and out popped Cash.”

Hand covering her mouth, Alice looked at Cash with a wealth of
emotion. She moved in closer to hug Cash tight.

Sensing her deep sympathy, the dog looked at Reese with worry.
Expressive dog.

“I didn’t really think it through,” Reese explained. “I just
took him to the vet, then spent a small fortune getting him a flea dip, his ears
cleaned, his blood checked…the whole shebang. Thus his name, Cash.”

“That was so kind of you.”

Great. Melodrama. Just what he didn’t need. “That was
human
of me. Whoever put him in that box is lacking
humanity.” And should be beaten, at the very least. “But the point is, now I
have a dog, and I’m fond of him and he of me, but unfortunately I sometimes have
to work weird times of the day so—”

“You’d like me to be the dog sitter?”

In case she thought to refuse, Reese went about convincing her.
“He’s smart, so I know he can learn about tearing up stuff and waiting to go
outside. Of course I’ll supply all his food and anything else you’d need.
And—”

“I’d love to.”

“I’ll pay you,” he said at almost the same time.

They stared at each other.

Reese moved down a step to be closer to the dog—and to Alice.
“I’m sure we could come up with an agreeable wage, and I could even pay overtime
whenever my hours get too screwy.” Like they were bound to be again today.

“I like Cash.” She held the dog protectively to her chest.
Cash’s eyebrows went up and down as he looked at Reese with uncertainty. “I
don’t mind watching him.”

“But I’ll still insist on paying you.” He patted his thigh.
“Come here, Cash.”

The dog bolted over to him, crawled into his lap but then
stretched out to lick at Alice’s hand.

A diplomat or an affection hog—Reese wasn’t sure which.

Alice looked ready to melt. “Okay.”

On to the next hurdle. “You can’t watch Cash and ban me from
your apartment.”

Her gaze shot up to his. “I wasn’t banning, exactly…”

Before she could get too worked up, he said fast, “It’s okay.
I’m not going to pry.” Yet. “But I’m a cop, you know. I’m trustworthy. And I
need to know Cash is safe.”

Umbrage put her shoulders back and stiffened her neck. “If
you’re suggesting—”

“Not suggesting a thing.” More like setting up the rules. “I’m
only saying that ours will be a friendly business arrangement, and there’s no
reason for you to worry about me overstepping, in any way.” Just because he
suddenly wanted to kiss her silly…no reason at all. “I want everything clear up
front.”

“Everything?”

“The details of our arrangement.”

She continued to regard him in stiff wariness.

Better to save that discussion for later. He checked his watch
to drive home his lack of free time. “But right now, I have to go shower and
shave and get to work. Are you okay for now?”

“Yes.”

Still stiff. Great. So far he batted a big fat zero. “Today
will probably be another lousy day. But I might—” as in definitely would “—come
by during my lunch so that Cash doesn’t think I’ve handed him over.”

“Fine.”

He rubbed his bristly jaw, but time did run thin. “We’ll talk
more as soon as I get a chance.” He cupped Cash’s furry face. “You be good, my
man.”

Almost as if he understood, Cash did an army crawl over to
Alice. He rolled to his back on her lap and gave her a big doggie grin.

Alice cuddled him like an upset child.

“You big mooch.” Reese had to laugh. Well-laid plans went to
shit all around him, but at least he had a handle on this. “Thank you, Alice. It
means a lot to know Cash is well cared for.”

She didn’t look up at him. She kept her face tucked close to
Cash’s. “My pleasure.”

And that was something else he’d like to see.

Alice’s pleasure.

There were a lot of reasons why he should curb those thoughts.
She was a neighbor. She had some issues going on that he didn’t yet understand.
And she was his dog sitter.

But… He looked down at a crooked part in her hair. No, he
really didn’t care about any of that. He wanted her. Eventually he’d have
her.

“I’ll see you, Alice.”

She didn’t say goodbye. But then, she’d never said hello,
either.

* * *

L
OGAN
AND
R
EESE
stood
together while the lieutenant briefed everyone on the bombing.

Without looking at Logan, she said to Reese, “I want you to
take the lead on this.”

Given her apparent mistrust, that surprised both men. Logan was
heading up the task force; it didn’t make sense to switch things up right now,
but what could he say? He needed as much free time as he could get. The fact
that Peterson was working an angle of some sort could be used to his
benefit.

Reese stared at her, then nodded. “Of course.”

She went on to name the officers covering the scene at the club
and the hospital. “We have two of Andrews’s men under watch. They’re injured,
but should survive.”

That was news to Logan. Rowdy hadn’t mentioned it, but it made
sense. “They haven’t said anything yet?”

“They were being treated, then went to sleep with
painkillers.”

“And no one pushed for info?” If their injuries weren’t
life-threatening, someone should have picked their brains at the first
opportunity.

“There’s enough bad press on us at this point. They aren’t
going anywhere, and no one has been allowed in to see them.”

“I’ll head there now—”

She shook her head. “I want you to interview the
witnesses.”

“We have witnesses?” Other than Pepper, whom he had under
wraps. “Who?”

“Clubgoers, passersby, employees…typical lineup of possible
observers. So far no one seems to know anything, but keep picking. You never
know when a clue might present itself.”

So she wanted him grounded at the station? Reese sent him a
curious look, but Logan could only shrug.

Peterson went on to detail the officers working behind the
scenes in supporting roles. There’d be computer checks to do, video cam footage
to watch, warrants to obtain.

All in all, Logan wasn’t displeased with his assigned duty.
When the lieutenant finished, he followed her to her office and tapped on the
door frame. “Got a second?”

As if expecting him, she seated herself and opened a file
before saying, “What’s on your mind, Detective?”

“Are you having Andrews’s death confirmed?”

That brought her head up. For several seconds she scrutinized
him. “It’s going to be difficult. He must have been holding the bomb when it
detonated.” She held up her hands and wiggled her fingers. “No
fingerprints.”

“Shit.” That was too damned convenient for comfort.

“The blast did considerable damage to his teeth as well, and
his face…it’s gone.”

More than ever, Logan needed to see the body.

“I’m expecting an official report later this morning, but who
knows? DNA sampling would be the last option.”

Too expensive. “Relatives?”

“None that we’re aware of.” She closed the file folder. “You
have reason to believe it’s not him?”

“I wouldn’t leave it to chance.”

“Of course not.” She swung her chair from side to side. “So
Morton Andrews is presumed dead, a human trafficker is murdered, and you let
Rowdy Yates go.”

The accusation stiffened his spine. That’s why she wanted to
keep him at the station? “I had no reason to keep him.”

“Hmm.”

The noncommittal sound grated. Logan held her gaze and
waited.

“Was Rowdy able to give you any useful information at all?”

Disliking the line of questioning but determined to hide it,
Logan took a seat across from her. “He confirmed that some from the police
department were on Andrews’s payroll around the time Jack was murdered.”

“Old news.” She flagged her hand in indifference. “You know
where he is?”

“Rowdy?”
He’s off doing my job for
me
—but of course Logan wouldn’t inform her of that. “Not
specifically, no.”

She frowned.

Logan offered, “I could probably find him.”

“Good. You do that.” Almost like a dismissal, she checked her
watch.

Logan didn’t budge. Because they still didn’t have reason to
arrest Rowdy, he said, “You want me to ask him to come back in?”

“He and his sister, yes.” She lifted her brows at him. “I have
a meeting with the press in five minutes.”

Trying to show no reaction to her order, Logan stood. “Is there
something I don’t know?”

“Given that you were running the task force, I shouldn’t think
so.” She put her fingers together and studied him. Finally she said, “But then,
you and Detective Bareden were out of touch last night.”

Irritation sparked. “For a little while. Did you try to reach
me? I didn’t see any missed calls on my cell.”

“So you didn’t know about Morton’s death until this
morning?”

Straight-faced, without a single sign of deception, he said,
“No.”

“You didn’t watch any television, listen to a radio…?”

“My personal time is my own,” he said, and he told a half lie.
“But I was with a woman, and, no, we weren’t watching television or listening to
the radio.”

“Ah. Well, that would explain it, I guess.” She stood. “I take
it Detective Bareden was similarly preoccupied?”

Logan shrugged. “You’d have to ask him.”

Taking a big verbal leap away from her inquisition, she said,
“The club is of course shut down, the scene secured, but it won’t do us much
good. The place was mobbed—all three floors. Everything had already been
trampled and tossed by the time we got there.”

“Morton’s office?”

“The scene is safeguarded, but even without the damage of the
bomb, do you really think he’s dumb enough to keep anything incriminating where
others might get to it?”

Not really, no. “How was he identified?”

“You mean, given that his face was blown off?” She smirked at
him. “Clothes, hair and ID in the wallet in his pocket.” She strode past him.
“The build matches and the hair color—what wasn’t bloodied—matched up. Now if
there’s nothing else?”

“No.”

“Then I suggest you get to work on those witnesses.”

Logan followed her from the office and then kept going to his
desk to get the report on the witnesses he’d be interviewing. He wanted to call
Rowdy, but not yet. He needed complete privacy for that, and that meant getting
through part of the day first. He had questions to answer, plans to make,
reports to fill out.

He locked gazes with Reese.

Where to start, he wondered…and with whom?

* * *

M
OSEYING
BAREFOOT
around the property, Pepper
saw that it was more weeds than grass, without a speck of landscaping in sight.
The sun was so incredibly bright that it hurt her eyes—and she loved it.

The old house could use a new coat of paint. The windows needed
a good cleaning. A few flowers would really be nice.

Like a vigilant shadow, Dash trailed silently behind her. He
wasn’t intrusive, but he wasn’t an irritant, either.

Knowing he’d hear her, she said, “If I had a place like this,
I’d plant wildflowers everywhere.”

“The point of wildflowers,” he replied, “is that you don’t have
to plant them.”

“But I would.” She stopped at the corner of the house to pull
up a sturdy weed. “There are some really pretty ones, and they don’t need much
care.”

“Meaning my house looks bare?” He smiled at her.

He was so incredibly handsome that if Logan didn’t already have
her so twisted up inside, she might have been more admiring. “You’re supposedly
rolling in dough, right? So why don’t you pretty up the place a little?”

He bent to pull a weed, too. “I’m not
rolling in dough,
” he told her. “But I am comfortable.”

She snorted. Comfort could mean a variety of things to a
variety of people. Only the well-to-do used it to describe a lifestyle filled
with security and extravagance.

“If I lived here,” Dash said, “maybe I would decorate more. But
the draw for me is that I don’t have to do anything when I’m here. I cut the
grass—”