“We’ll hit the station in another ten minutes. Even if you don’t call her, she’ll find out soon enough.”
It actually worked to his advantage that Reese hadn’t gotten around to calling her. “I’ll talk to her after I question Rowdy. In the meantime, I want him in holding, and I want him watched 24/7.”
“I’ll do it.” Reese glanced at Logan again. “Better not to trust anyone else at this point.”
Because Logan felt the same, he nodded. He wouldn’t take a single chance that Rowdy Yates would walk before he had the opportunity to get the details needed.
Once he had the right info, he’d find a way to protect Rowdy—and he’d start building the case to get Morton Andrews, once and for all.
And after that, after all the details were in place, he’d go back to Pepper. He’d reassure her, he’d apologize to her, and he’d explain.
But he kept seeing that look on her face, and deep down, he just didn’t know if any of that would matter to her.
* * *
THE TWO OFFICERS that Logan left behind crowded into her doorway. Pepper gave them direct stares. “You can leave now. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Ma’am.” The lankier of the two gave her a look of apology. “We’re just here to see to your safety. It’ll be easier if we’re inside.”
“I need to shower.” Yeah, not her most immediate concern, but it was as good an excuse as any. “I need to change clothes and go to my brother—”
“Detective Riske was clear, ma’am. He’d prefer that you wait here.”
“I don’t care about his preferences.”
They looked at each other. The shorter guy stepped in farther. “You won’t be able to see your brother until he’s processed anyway. If you try going there, it might just slow things down.”
Processed. She wanted to groan. Thanks to Morton, she knew far more about how the criminal element worked than the procedure for law enforcement. “How long will that take?”
“Depends. They’ll take him to the station to be interviewed—”
“You mean interrogated.”
He said nothing to that. “It takes time to do the booking paperwork, photo, fingerprints and all that. I don’t know if he’ll be transported to the county detention center for holding until bail or trial.”
The lanky one said, “He could go straight to county. We won’t know until Detective Riske returns.”
So they weren’t informed of the whole procedure that’d be taken? Was that a security thing, or were they just grunts who didn’t deserve the details?
It really had nothing to do with anything, but Pepper heard herself ask, “Is his name really Logan?”
“Ma’am?”
She waved a hand in impatience. “Detective Riske. Is his first name Logan?”
“Yes, ma’am. Logan Riske.”
Probably he’d used his first name to keep from tripping himself up while…seducing her.
Humiliation rolled over her in suffocating waves.
He thought her shy and introverted. He’d smiled at her while she’d shared her wretched background. He’d been gently accepting when she insisted on sex in the dark.
He’d been inside her.
It felt as if an elephant sat on her chest, crushing her heart, all but crippling her. Wrapping her arms around herself, she struggled to hold it all together.
Numb, sick, Pepper whispered, “Thank you.” To keep their suspicions at bay, she gestured to her couch. “Make yourselves at home. I’m going to get ready just in case Logan calls or returns more quickly than expected.”
They gave her pitying looks, thinking her naive, thinking she didn’t grasp the nuances involved.
That could be, but she understood the most important fact: people outside the law and in it wanted her brother. He could die if she didn’t react quickly.
“I won’t be long.” And with that, Pepper turned away. Time to get things under way.
She went to her bedroom first. Buried inside the bedsprings, she found her stash of cash, her knife and .38 revolver, and the keys she’d need. She put it all inside her purse, then wrapped it up in a change of clothes, bundling everything together. As she left the bedroom for the bathroom, she glanced shyly at the officers.
Neither had sat down. They both stood at the ready, watchful, wary. Maybe they were good cops. After all, they hadn’t yet tried to murder her. They hadn’t called in the goons. They hadn’t even threatened her.
But they did stand by her front door, trying to block her escape.
Knowing the flimsy lock offered little real protection, she locked the bathroom door behind her, turned on the shower, and wasted no time changing into jeans and a T-shirt. Putting the strap of the purse over her shoulder and across her body, she opened the window and climbed out. It had been a while, but she scurried down the tree limbs with ease, then dropped the last several feet to the ground, landing in a crouch. Anxiety making her breathless, she waited, but no one seemed to notice her. No alarms sounded.
No one gave chase.
To help disguise her, she pulled the band from her ponytail and let her long hair hang free. She didn’t head for the road but instead darted to the back of the building and went down alleyways until she’d crossed a mile or more. The bright moon and security lights for other buildings made it tough to stay in the shadows.
She found Rowdy’s car in the agreed-upon location. Holding back, she watched it, worried that it might be a trap, that others could have it under surveillance. But with little time to spare, she swallowed her misgivings and fear and ran to the car to quickly unlock it.