Page 68 of Logan

He threw his hands up in defense and quickly explained. “Oh no, ma’am, don’t worry. It’s a perfectly fine room. It’s just behind the inn. Two of the original cabins were left when they tore the others down to build this building. They were the ones closest to the woods. One is for overflow guests, and the other is used as the housekeepers’ storage room and hotel laundry.”

She cocked her head to the side, searching her memory. “I used to spend my summers here with my grandparents when I was little. I remember this inn… it was tiny, individual cabins.”

A smile spread across his face as he nodded. “Yeah, I always loved those cabins. They were torn down when new owners decided to make this a hotel to get more rooms and more money. We usually rent it last since a lot of customers don’t like the distance or the laundry noise, but other than that, it’s a perfectly good room. And anyway, the housekeepers are gone for the day and the laundry’s all done. So there won’t be any noise. You should be good for the night.”

“It’ll be fine,” she replied, her gratitude real in the face of overwhelming exhaustion. “I’ll be leaving early tomorrow morning anyway.”

Leaning forward, he smiled and said, “I’ll give you a discount since you’re being so nice about it.”

Smiling her thanks, she handed him her credit card. A few minutes later, she walked past his desk and down the hall to a door that opened to a path toward the cabin. The mulched path led her to the door of a tiny log cabin. The front faced the back ofthe hotel, and to the side, farther in the woods, was an identical cabin with an engraved wooden sign over the door indicating the laundry.

Her room key was just that—an old-fashioned key on a key ring with a white plastic tag and the cabin number engraved on it. Entering, she flipped the light switch and breathed a sigh of relief. The room was old but perfectly clean. The window facing the direction of the laundry had been boarded over, probably to attempt to keep out the noise and possible prying eyes of the housekeepers. Shutting the door behind her, she dropped her overnight bag on the floor.

Walking over to the only other window, she pulled back the curtain and stared out over the back of the hotel and parking lot in the distance. Not worrying about the view, she turned and moved to the bed, jerking the covers down. Seeing the clean sheets, she flopped onto the bed, her body finally giving in to the day's exhaustion.

Thoughts of Logan and the mission filled her mind. Angry with herself that she agreed to the job without finding out the entire facts first, she had to admit that her supervisor probably did not know the extent of thesecurity specialist’sjob description.

Rolling to her side, she thought of Logan’s deception but knew he was right when he said he never mentioned arresting anyone. That was her expectation.So he didn’t lie…he just let me keep my false assumption.

The faces of their neighbors and visitors drifted through her mind. She knew they were terrorists… she knew they were working on biological warfare… and they had to be stopped.It’s so much easier being just a civilian who wants terrorism to stop, yet we sit in our safe houses and never know what others endure to make that happen.She thought of Logan’s SEAL team and the injury that forced him to find another way to earn moneyand then serve again.He has the guts to do what it takes to make us safe. How can I sit in judgment of that?

37

When her mind refused to stop swirling, Vivian climbed off the bed and, listening to her stomach growl, walked over to her purse. Checking her wallet, she pulled out some cash, deciding to hit the vending machines she’d seen in the lobby. Not in the mood for a meal, she thought a soda and some chips would work.And maybe a candy bar…yeah, definitely chocolate.The thought that vending machines should stock wine ran through her mind, but she’d settle for chocolate.

Walking to the door, she hesitated when she heard voices just outside her room. Knowing there were no other guest cabins and the receptionist had said the housekeepers were gone for the day, she leaned closer, placing her ear to the wood. Whoever was outside talking, their voices moved farther down the path.

Frowning, she stood on her tiptoes to look out the peephole in the door. The viewer was old, but wiping it on her side, she stared at the pathway, seeing nothing.

Setting her heels back to the floor, she shoved the cash into her pocket, still intent on getting a snack. Not wanting to startle the housekeepers if they’d returned, and having no desire to draw unwanted attention to herself, she opened the door quietly and slipped outside. Male and female voices were coming frominside the laundry, but she wasn’t sure how many. The door was partially open, but she was unable to see inside.

Assuming the housekeepers hadn’t finished their work, she turned and hurried quietly to the back door of the inn. Once inside, she trudged along the carpeted hallway before rounding the corner into the lobby. Fatigue had settled deep inside, and each step was harder than the one before.

Seeing the receptionist’s eyes pinned to the small TV on his counter, she headed to the vending machines. Grinning at the low prices compared to California, she soon had a caffeine-free soda, a bag of chips, and a chocolate candy bar.

She turned to ask the receptionist if the returning housekeepers would be in the laundry area for long, but a crowd of people came from the main hall and into the lobby. They were talking loudly and, from their conversations, were from the tour group. As they passed her, chatting about the bar they were going to for dinner and how it was part of theMen of Alaskafilm set, she stepped to the side and made her way back to the hallway opposite the lobby.

Returning down the old, worn, multi-patterned carpet toward the back door, her hands were now full of her snack booty. As she neared her cabin, she shuffled the chips and soda to one hand to snag her room key out of her pocket. She could still hear low voices from inside the laundry cabin as she stuck her key in the lock.

Opening her door, she looked over her shoulder. With the laundry door now fully open, she could see two female housekeepers filling spray bottles with liquid from a large plastic container. Leaning slightly, she could now see the housekeepers’ heads were covered in hijabs. Gasping, she started to turn back toward her room when one of them stepped outside.Farrah.She jolted just as the other woman stepped outside.Nafisa.

Her mouth opened to scream when a large hand from behind clamped over her face. She rolled her eyes to the side and saw Rashad, his jaw set and lips turned down in a frown.

Struggling as he wrapped his arms around hers, he easily dragged her down the path and into the laundry room.

“Damn,” Nafisa bit out, her eyes blazing with fury. “Why is she here spying on us?”

“I don’t know,” Rashad said, still trying to subdue Vivian as she struggled. His hand stayed in place, firmly shutting off any chance she had of screaming.

Stepping forward, Nafisa stood directly in front of her and, pulling out a long knife, ordered, “Kill the bitch.”

Vivian immediately stopped struggling, and Rashad moved them backward. “Are you stupid? Kill her with that…here? We have work to do, and you want to bring the police and feds here to investigate the dead body of a woman left in the laundry room?”

Nafisa’s eyes narrowed as she stared up at him. “Do not call me stupid. I’m the one who developed what we needed—me, not you, and certainly not that fool, Malik.”

Rashad towered over the woman, using his height to his advantage, and smirked. “You? The great Nafisa? Do you think you’ll live to see our plan in action if you spread her blood all over the room? You’re a fool.”

Eyes wide, Vivian attempted to follow their bickering, but her mind stayed firmly on the wordsKill the bitch.Her gaze lingered on the knife in Nafisa’s hand, her heart pounding as she watched it slowly lowered.

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