“Complicated,” she finished for him. “A constant work in progress.”
He didn’t argue with her.
Morgan’s eyes, the same warm brown as her brother’s, searched Logan’s face. “Did you come all the way to Alaska just for the funeral?”
He shrugged. “I know it probably sounds weird. I just . . . I don’t know. There was something about Bobby. I felt personally responsible for him.”
Morgan nodded as if she understood exactly. “Listen, there’s a gathering at my house in a couple of hours. Nothing formal. Just a few friends sharing memories.” She paused. “You should come.”
Logan looked away, unable to hold her gaze. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
To his surprise, she stepped closer, pulling a small notebook from her coat pocket. She scribbled something, then tore out the page and handed it to him. An address. “If you change your mind . . .”
He held up the paper. “Thanks.”
She studied him a long moment, and Logan had the unsettling sensation of being photographed. Each of his details were noted and filed away by an artist’s eye.
“My gut tells me that Bobby trusted you,” she said finally. “That wasn’t something Bobby did easily.”
Logan swallowed hard. “No, it wasn’t.”
“I hope to see you later.”
With a final nod, Morgan turned and walked back toward the small group waiting by the cemetery entrance.
Logan watched her go, the paper with her address burning in his hand like an accusation.
CHAPTER
THIRTY-TWO
PRESENT DAY
“You believe Ashcroft?”Andi asked as they reached Logan’s SUV, the old shack with Knox’s body behind them. “You really think that’s why he was at the lodge that night?”
Logan turned the key in the ignition with more force than necessary, and the engine roared to life. “I’m not sure. I don’t like the guy, and it’s clouding my judgment.”
“He clearly doesn’t like you either,” Duke said.
“That’s no secret,” Logan muttered.
He pulled onto the narrow forestry road, accelerating faster than was wise given the conditions.
Duke and Andi exchanged glances but said nothing as the miles ticked by in tense silence.
Finally, Andi broke the quiet. “Where are you heading?”
“I need to get back to Morgan’s.” Logan’s eyes remained fixed on the road ahead. “I want to lay out her pictures. Maybe there’s a clue there. Do you want me to drop you off at your place first?”
“No.” Duke’s hard tone made it clear he meant the word. “We’re in this with you.”
Logan nodded, not trusting himself to speak. The loyalty of these people—people who owed him nothing, who were riskingtheir own reputations and possibly their safety to help—was a stark contrast to the bureaucratic wall he’d just encountered.
His thoughts continued to race as he drove, scenarios and possibilities spinning through his mind.
The pattern was clear now, but time was running out. Ashcroft would follow protocol, assign troopers, file reports—all while Morgan remained in the hands of a killer who was playing a game only Logan seemed to understand.
“Tell us what you’re thinking.” Andi’s voice broke into his thoughts.