Silent Night Standoff Page 7

  “I second that,” Archer weighed in for the first time tonight.

  “Maybe we could compromise,” Skyler interjected. “Since I was involved in the bank standoff from the hostage side, I believe I can offer valuable information at the team debrief in the morning. Let me attend that meeting. Then I’ll come home, put my feet up right here and stare at my garden for the rest of the day.”

  “You won’t drive,” Jake warned. “I’ll give you a ride to the office.”

  “I can bring her back home afterwards,” Darcie offered. “That’ll give me plenty of time to assess how she’s doing when she can’t run away from me.”

  Skyler groaned, but Logan could see fondness for her teammates in her expression.

  “Who’ll man the protective detail once she gets home?” Logan asked.

  Jake looked at Logan. “Don’t worry your pretty-boy head. I’ll figure something out.”

  Archer stood and checked his watch. “We should wrap this up.” He retucked his uniform shirt and adjusted his belt. “We’re all tired from the stress of seeing our little squirt in danger.”

  “And we’re hungry.” Brady rubbed his stomach before kicking down the leg support on his recliner. “Whose night is it to cook anyway?”

  “Mine,” Cash muttered.

  “Say it ain’t so,” Brady said, the word so coming out in two syllables of Midwest twang.

  Everyone groaned, and Logan felt a smile tug at his mouth.

  “Please, someone do something quick.” Darcie grinned, and Logan could see she was a real beauty when she wasn’t worried or defensive. “Skyler’s already nauseous from the head injury. She can’t possibly eat Cash’s cooking. Someone else should volunteer.”

  “Guess that means you’re up, Darcie.” Cash flashed a satisfied smile. “At least according to Jake’s house rules.”

  Jake nodded. “He’s right. He who complains the loudest fixes the problem.”

  “I really hate going to work,” Skyler said with a snide smile.

  “Nice one.” Darcie slapped a high five with Skyler.

  “Just don’t expect it to change my mind.” Jake gestured at the kitchen. “C’mon, Darcie. I’ll help you feed this ungrateful bunch.”

  The group broke up and as soon as they’d left the room, Logan missed their good-natured interaction. They were a real team. The kind that could achieve anything together. He was glad they were part of Skyler’s life.

  He approached her to say good-night. She was staring after Jake as if she didn’t really understand his approach to life.

  “I take it Jake’s a by-the-rules kind of guy,” Logan said.

  “You have no idea. He’s all about the job and controlling everything around him. He doesn’t have a social life. Lives like a hermit.” She laughed, then suddenly sobered. “Come to think of it, you do have an idea what’s he’s like, don’t you, Logan? A very good one.”

  * * *

  As Skyler had said, Logan had a good idea of Jake’s life. He’d only known Jake for a day but he recognized the same focus and intensity that Logan himself lived by. That’s why he still sat behind a desk at the FBI office at ten o’clock that night. Jake was probably working, too. But Logan wasn’t Jake. Far from it. Jake surrounded himself with team members who invested in each other’s lives. Not just professionally, but personally. Logan hadn’t had anyone who was truly invested in his life since Skyler.

  Skyler.

  What was he going to do about her?

  She wouldn’t acknowledge the danger she was in. Though a free spirit, she was also headstrong when she wanted to be. He could see her convincing her teammates that she’d be fine on her own. See them going about life and leaving her alone. Marty swooping in. Taking her life.

  The sick feeling that had lingered since he’d seen her on the monitors that afternoon intensified. When they’d been a couple, he’d cared more for her than any woman he’d ever known, and he hadn’t left her because he’d lost interest or didn’t care. He’d walked away because he’d had no choice. Following his dream meant going to Chicago—and leaving her behind.

  None of it her fault.

  He shouldn’t have gotten involved with her—anyone for that matter—when he still had so much to do. But he hadn’t been able to resist her and she’d ended up being the one good and decent thing in his life.

  Until he’d ended it. Badly.

  Now he owed her his best to make sure Marty didn’t harm her.

  He couldn’t leave her protection up to her squad until he confirmed there were no loopholes in the schedule and that she hadn’t convinced them to relax. He had some juggling to do to run the investigation and meet his deadline, while at the same time making sure she was safe.

  On his phone, he opened the message group he’d set up for his team.

  Daily briefing changed to 6:00 a.m. Effective immediately, he typed. Confirm your availability.

  He sent the text and sat back to wait for their responses. Even if the whole team couldn’t attend, Logan would keep to this schedule, freeing him up for daily check-ins with Skyler.

  He imagined showing up on her doorstep tomorrow morning. She’d plant her fists on her hips while jutting out her cute little chin. Her eyes would narrow and she’d look like an adorable pit bull as she told him in no uncertain terms that she was in charge of her life and he didn’t need to horn in.

  He had to find a way to gain her agreement. And maybe after that, he’d explain his reasons for leaving. They’d talk about it and reach an agreement to put their past behind them to keep it from distracting them.

  Yes, that was what he had to do. Somehow.

  Because if he knew one thing, it was that distractions could be dangerous when you were hunting down a killer. Almost as dangerous as the killer.

  EIGHT

  Logan laid on his horn to move the melee of reporters out of the way as he maneuvered into the firehouse drive. He spotted Parsons lurking near one of the large bay doors painted a vivid red, his microphone clasped in his hand as usual. When the reporter spied Logan, his face lit with excitement.

  Great way to start the morning.

  Groaning, Logan jogged toward the main entrance. Parsons trailed after him.

  Logan pounded on the door and tapped his foot as he waited. “C’mon, c’mon, c’mon. Someone answer.”

  The door jerked open. Jake, wearing the black team uniform again, blocked Logan from entering.

  Logan gestured at the reporters. “Can I come in before the mob gets to me?”

  “Hmm,” Jake said, looking over Logan’s shoulder.

  “C’mon, man,” Logan begged. “I know you’re not thrilled with me, but reporters? That’s an extreme punishment for yesterday, isn’t it?”

  Jake chuckled and moved out of the way.

  Logan slipped past him and closed the door in Parsons’s face. “Thanks, man. You saved my hide.” Logan mocked an exaggerated shudder.

  Jake’s grin disappeared as he twisted the dead bolt. “I assume you’re here to see Skyler.”

  Logan nodded. “But I also want to review her protection schedule.”

  “I’m still working on it.” Jake’s narrowed eyes fixed on Logan. “I need to talk to other department heads before I can finalize assignments.”

  “When can I take a look at it?”

  Jake took a solid stance. “I don’t recall saying you can.”

  Relax, Logan warned himself. Or you’ll be butting heads with this guy all the time.

  “Sorry, man. The detail is your thing and I’ll respect that. It’s just...” Logan paused for a moment, wondering if he should head down this path. “Skyler and I...we...we have a history, you know? And I need to make sure she’ll be okay.”

  “Trust me—we know all about your history.
” Jake crossed his arms and widened his stance. “And we won’t appreciate it if you hurt her again.”

  “That’s not my intent.”

  “See that it’s not or you’ll have five extremely angry people with guns to deal with.” Jake quirked a smile, but his tone was deadly serious.

  “So where is she?”

  “Out back. In her garden.”

  “Thanks for letting me in.” Logan turned toward the back of the house.

  “Don’t make me regret it,” Jake called after Logan.

  He stepped outside and took a moment to appreciate the sun shining down on three tiers of boulders holding back the earth. A variety of plants cascaded over the rocks, most of the foliage brown and crumbly. Logan remembered Skyler’s love of gardening, but she’d only had a small terrace with potted plants when they were together. All he knew about plants was that they were either green or brown and he didn’t know which they should be at this time of year.

  She looked up, her hands filled with long blades of decorative grass she’d been snipping. “What’re you doing here?”

  Her blatant suspicion made him cringe. She didn’t trust him anymore. Might never trust him again, and he hadn’t a clue how to fix it other than to explain himself and ask her forgiveness.

  “Well?” She dumped the grass in a bucket and crossed her arms over the black hoodie she wore with a vintage paisley blouse. “You didn’t say why you were here,” she said more pointedly.

  “I was worried about you.”

  “No need.” She slipped her clippers into a green gardening apron strung around her narrow waist. “I still have a headache, but otherwise I’m fine.”

  “I’m glad to hear that, but I was talking more about your safety.” He took a few steps closer, earning a testy look.

  “Jake’s here.”

  “I know, it’s just...” He turned away until he found the right words to express himself. “We once meant a lot to each other, and I need to personally make sure Marty doesn’t harm you.” She opened her mouth. He knew a refusal was coming, so he rushed on. “After the way I ended things between us, I don’t deserve any consideration. I get that. Trust me. You’ve made that perfectly clear.”

  She shoved her hands in the pockets of well-worn jeans. “And yet you’re here.”

  The bitterness in her tone made him want to drop the subject, but he held his ground. “I thought maybe you’d let me drive you to your office and on the way we can clear the air between us. Doesn’t look like this case is going away quickly, and we’ll be seeing more of each other. Wouldn’t it be better if we weren’t distracted by our past and could focus on the case? On your safety, too?”

  “I’m not distracted.”

  “C’mon, Skyler.” He watched her for any sign of acquiescence. “Your anger with me is obvious.”

  She jerked a hand out of her pocket and rubbed the back of her neck.

  At her indecision, he stepped closer. “I’m sure there are things you want to say to me. And I have things I want to tell you, too. Let’s take the time to do it today. Before this case heats up.”

  “I don’t know,” she said, but he could tell she was caving.

  “Letting this go will only make life better for both of us.”

  She sighed. “Fine. I’ll ride to the office with you, but then you’ve got to back off.”

  “I understand,” he assured her.

  “No.” She shook her head. “Don’t just ‘understand.’ Promise you’ll back off.”

  Not something he could do. Ever. “You know I can’t, but I can promise after I review Jake’s schedule, I’ll trust your squad to protect you. If they’re unavailable or if any attempt is made on your life, I’ll be right by your side. That’s not negotiable. If that means we can’t talk this morning, then that’s what has to happen.”

  She bit her lip. “It’s a start, I suppose.”

  “Enough of a start for you?”

  She gave an abbreviated nod. “I’ll put my tools away, then tell Jake you’re driving me.”

  “Let me help.” He reached for a large bucket filled with dried clippings. He expected her to jerk it away, but she let him carry it to an outdoor storage shed.

  “I assume your plants are supposed to be brown.” He dumped the bucket in a large recycling bin.

  She eyed him, and he could see she was remembering how ignorant he’d been of gardening. “Yes. They’re dormant right now, but they’re perennials. They’ll come back in the spring.”

  With that, she removed her apron and gloves, shooed him out of the shed and marched to the sliding glass door. Inside, she went into a room he hadn’t seen last night, and he soon heard muffled voices. Jake sounded annoyed. Her voice was strong and determined. Not that Logan was surprised. She might be a little bit of a package on the outside, but she was a strong woman through and through.

  As Logan waited, he glanced down the hall at the tree. Sunlight caught on an origami star, sending reflections dancing on the wall. Memories of buying the ornaments once again raced across his mind. The desire for another simple day, shared with a woman he cared about, trailed behind.

  How did he reconcile this drive to succeed with this...this what? Longing? Could it even be reconciled or was he destined to live his life driven to succeed at all costs?

  And just what are those costs? he asked himself for the first time.

  Skyler returned, thankfully saving him from his crazy introspection that would get him nowhere.

  Eyes narrowed, she grabbed her purse. “Let’s get out of here.”

  “Something wrong?” He trailed her to the door.

  “No,” she said, but then he heard her mumble, “Not if people would start minding their own business and let me live my life.” She jerked open the door.

  “Wait.” He rushed to head her off and ensure no threat waited outside. By the time he caught up, she’d stepped out and Parsons had his microphone shoved in her face.

  “I’m sorry,” she said to the eager reporter. “But I’m late for a meeting.”

  She tried to sidestep him, but he grabbed the arm already bruised by Marty. She cried out in pain and Logan instantly saw red. Bright, brilliant, fire-engine red.

  He didn’t even think before he yanked Parsons up by the lapel of his leather jacket and slammed him against the brick. “You lay a hand on her again and you’ll wish you hadn’t.” Logan scowled at him.

  “Really?” Parsons lifted his microphone. “What exactly do you plan to do? Maybe use your influence as an FBI agent to stop me?”

  His mention of the bureau suddenly cleared Logan’s rage, and he looked around. He’d been caught on camera threatening and accosting a reporter. He’d made a mistake. A huge one. One that might jeopardize the ASAC job.

  He released Parsons. “I would never use my professional connections for any such thing. Deputy Brennan sustained an injury in the arm you grabbed, and I needed to stop you before she suffered even more. Now if you’ll excuse me.” He straightened his suit jacket, then turned to Skyler. “Let’s roll.”

  As he moved toward the car, he heard Parsons discussing police brutality. Logan suppressed the urge to turn around and show him what brutality might actually look like.

  In the car, Skyler sighed. “Why do some reporters have to be such jerks?”

  “That was all my fault. I lost my cool. I shouldn’t have.”

  “I agree,” she said. “You shouldn’t have lost it, but I appreciate you defending me.”

  “You do?” He stared at her, his mouth hanging open, before he thought to close it. “I figured you’d be telling me to mind my own business again.”

  “This was different. You weren’t butting in or speaking for me. You were being chivalrous.”

  “Chivalrous?” The surprise he felt lingered in
his voice. “I’m the first to admit I’m not a knight in shining armor.”

  “When you put your focus in the right place, you’re a wonderful knight,” she said sadly, then stared out the window.

  Baffled by her mixed messages, Logan started the car and carefully merged into traffic. An awkward silence settled around them, and he suspected she was thinking about her knight comment.

  He’d like to have the qualities of a knight. To be valiant, honorable—and unwaveringly loyal. To her or any woman. He was sure he possessed the capacity for that kind of loyalty. And he’d prove it...someday. Once he’d gotten to where he wanted to be in life and had time to focus on a relationship.

  He opened his mouth to apologize to her, but the words lodged in his throat. How did he start this very important conversation when he knew going to Chicago had been the correct decision? He wouldn’t lie to her about that. Could he somehow convey his remorse at hurting her while making it clear that he still needed to keep his focus on his career?

  “I thought you wanted to talk,” she finally said.

  Might as well just launch into it. “I’m sorry, Skyler. For hurting you, I mean. I hope you can forgive me.” He took a breath. “I shouldn’t have left you with the party only days away...my timing was so bad. There was too much to do to leave you on your own.”

  She shot him a surprised look before her eyes narrowed. “So what you’re saying is you’re not sorry for leaving me—you’re just sorry about the timing.”

  “No... Wait. That’s not it.” He paused until he could stop at a red light and give all of his focus to her. “I’m sorry about hurting you. Sincerely sorry. I’ve never made my career goals a secret, but in hindsight, I can see that my work taking precedence came as a big surprise to you.”

  She crossed her arms. “It might not have if you’d discussed the job opportunity before you took it.”

  “You’re right. I’m sorry for that, as well.”

  She watched him, and he felt as if she could see every thought zinging through his mind. It made him feel as vulnerable as his father’s judgment often had.

  “You also could’ve mentioned sometime in the year we were together,” she continued, “that you thought a long-term relationship would interfere with your career plans. If you’d been honest with me from the start, then I would’ve known where we stood and I wouldn’t have fallen for you.”