Page 26 of Fast Kill

Taylor gave him a rundown of most of what had happened, and didn’t dare move while her boss sat back down at his desk and made a series of terse phone calls. Ten minutes later he escorted her to the boardroom where she faced an inquiry from no less than five department heads.

By the time she’d explained to them in detail everything they wanted to know, she felt empty inside and beyond exhausted. She felt…betrayed.

And scared.

Anxiety burned in her stomach. “So does this mean I’m on probation?” she asked Chris when everyone else had left the room.

He flicked a glance at her, his expression stern. “Not officially, no. But you should have come clean yesterday, the moment you recognized him. Your actions have made me question your honesty and loyalty to the agency. I can’t pretend I’m not hugely disappointed in you, Taylor.”

She lowered her eyes and nodded, the words hitting her hard. But she deserved them. “I understand.”

He stopped in the act of gathering his papers and straightened to study her a moment. “You’ve been a hard-working, invaluable member of my department since you got here. I understand why you initially withheld the information from me, and I even empathize about your situation, but that doesn’t make it right.”

“No.” The urge to fidget was so strong she had to lock her muscles to stay still.

Standing, he gathered up his papers and motioned for her to follow him. “Come on. We’ve all been putting in long hours these past few weeks. Get out of here, go home and do something relaxing.” He handed her back her cell phone.

Surprised, she took it. “Thank you.”

His blue eyes bored into hers. “If he contacts you again, tell us immediately. You may be our best hope of catching him.”

They’d likely have someone monitoring her phone anyway. “I will.”

At her desk she tidied everything up then sat there for a long moment. It had been a monumentally shitty day, made even worse because she’d not only been reprimanded by her boss, she’d also turned up the law enforcement heat on Dillon. It’s his own fault, she reminded herself, annoyed that she still cared.

She glanced at her watch. It was only a few minutes after four. The whole evening and night stretched ahead of her, long and lonely.

The thought of going home to an empty house made it seem like a weight pressed on the center of her chest. Normally she liked to be by herself, especially when she was stressed, but right now she’d kill for some company. She didn’t want to burden Charlie with all this, and Jamie had only gotten home last night. They needed alone time.

Logan.

At the very least, she owed him an apology for last night. The mere thought of seeing him made her feel better. Not that she’d unload all this on him either. That wasn’t how she operated, and it wasn’t fair to dump this on him, no matter how badly she wanted to.

Nerves tickled the pit of her stomach as she texted him.

I’m really sorry about last night. Can I drop by for a few minutes? I want to explain myself.

She didn’t even know if he’d answer her after the way she’d treated him last night.

She puttered around with some files on her desk for a while, waiting for his reply. After fifteen minutes she guessed he wasn’t going to respond, and she really didn’t blame him considering the way she’d acted—even if it had been to protect him.

And yet…an overwhelming sadness filled her that she’d crushed the fragile spark between them.

The parking lot was still mostly full when she made it to her car, the leaden gray sky overhead matching the heaviness in her chest. She’d just shifted into drive when her phone chimed with a text message.

She grabbed it from her purse, pure relief spearing through her when she saw Logan’s reply, along with his address.

Sure. I’m at home. Come by whenever.

Chapter Eight

Funny how people took their health for granted until something went wrong.

Seated in his favorite leather recliner with his sore knee elevated in front of him to reduce the swelling, Logan flipped back and forth between the two ballgames on TV and absently reached for the bottle of sparkling water beside him.

He’d kill for a beer instead, but with him sitting on his ass most of his waking hours these days, he couldn’t afford to put on weight that would slow his recovery down even more. The bag of frozen corn he’d used as an ice pack after he’d come home from his physio appointment lay limp in a puddle of water on the side table next to him.

The doorbell rang just as the batter hit the ball into a gap between center and right field. As he stood up he tempered the burst of anticipation at seeing Taylor. The mixed messages she’d given him yesterday were a major red flag. She was smart and hot and he was definitely attracted to her, but he had no interest in pursuing anything with her if she was a head case.

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