This Heart for Hire Read online

  Instead, as they finished their dessert and then drank the exclusive brew that Maxine had concocted within her kitchen that was half coffee, half heaven, Jessica plied Logan with question after question about the board members. She thought that if she approached the subject from every possible angle, he might remember something that, even in a remote way, could shed some light on whoever would be desperate enough to actually resort to threats and violence.

  She could have spared her breath.

  Forty-five minutes later, Jessica knew little more beyond their names and their hobbies. There was no one who could remember facts better than Logan when he wanted to, but apparently in this case he couldn’t or wouldn’t reveal anything.

  With a sigh, Jessica retired her third cup of Café Maxine, as the cook had dubbed the drink, and withdrew from the questioning. Dane would have probably been far more insightful, but Dane wasn’t there. And Logan was.

  Logan read her expression correctly as he rose to his feet.

  “Sorry to disappoint you, Jess.” Coming around to stand behind her chair, he helped ease it back as she stood up. “But for the most part, they’re not the kind of people I usually socialize with. I don’t know all that much about them.” He indicated the terrace. “I think it’s not going to rain anymore tonight. Care for a breath of fresh air?”

  The terrace, like everything else in his house, held too many memories for her. He’d kissed her for the first time when they were standing on the terrace. Avoiding it right about now seemed wise.

  She shook her head. “I think I should be getting home.”

  But as she turned away, he took her hand, forcing her to turn back. He pressed her hand to his chest, the way he did when they danced. She could feel his heart and told herself she didn’t care.

  “Don’t leave yet, Jessi. Stay awhile.”

  Temptation whispered in her ear like a seductive call. Desperate times called for desperate measures. She resorted to a lie. It felt heavy on her tongue.

  “I’ve got other cases pending, Logan.”

  He wasn’t going to give up that easily. “Can’t you give them to your partner?”

  She looked at him. Where had he gotten that idea? “I don’t have a partner.”

  “What about that guy in your office? The one who looks like Icabod Crane? Tall, doesn’t cast a shadow when he walks,” he added for good measure. “Isn’t he your partner?”

  She wondered how Albert would respond to that idea. He seemed completely content just to be what he was. A right hand she couldn’t do without.

  “Albert is my assistant, not my partner.” She backed up. “And how do you know about Albert, anyway?” According to Albert, they’d never met, and she knew she hadn’t mentioned him to Logan.

  His expression was inscrutable. “You’re not the only one who can do a little digging, a little investigating, you know.”

  He still thought it was a game for her, didn’t he? “I do it for a living.”

  “I do it to satisfy curiosity.”

  The words sprang out at her. That was all she was to him, she thought. And all she’d ever be. A curiosity. An amusement. If she knew that, why was it so hard for her to get it through her thick head?

  She didn’t like the answer she came up with. Because some part of her still had strong feelings for him.

  She didn’t care for his methods. Jessica didn’t want anyone snooping around in her life, especially not Logan. “If you have any questions about me or my life, ask me.”

  “All right,” he said gamely. “Why won’t you stay awhile longer?”

  An annoyed hiss escaped through her teeth. “I already told you.”

  “The truth Jessi.”

  Her patience was wearing thin. “The truth is that we’ve already had this dance and moved on.” She tried to remember where he’d put her purse. Probably with her coat in the foyer. “When’s Dane due back?”

  He walked quickly to keep up with her. Jessica could move fast when she wanted to. “Tomorrow.”

  Taking her coat off the rack, she shoved her arms through the sleeves, putting the raincoat on before he had a chance to hold it for her. The less physical contact, the better.

  “Fine. I’ll be in touch tomorrow.”

  In a smooth movement he caught her lapels between his fingers and thumb. Slowly he rubbed his thumbs up and down the material in a motion that could only be called sensual. “Does the condemned man get to kiss you goodbye?”

  She wanted to. God help her, despite all the reasons not to, she wanted to let him. But she’d gone that route with him and knew exactly where it led. Knew all the pitfalls to avoid. At the top of the list was allowing him to kiss her.

  “No.” With a decisive movement, she dropped the straps of her purse on her shoulder. “Tell Maxine the dinner and dessert were wonderful.” Turning on her heel, she reached for the door.

  “Jessi?”

  Jessica bit her lip, holding her breath as she turned only enough to look at him over her shoulder. “What?”

  “It was good seeing you again.” He’d never meant anything more in his life.

  “Uh-huh.”

  She couldn’t leave fast enough.

  The next morning she was ten minutes late getting to work. Even that small lapse of time wasn’t like her. Clocks could be set by her punctuality.

  Albert looked up from his desk. “You look like hell.”

  She felt like it, too, she thought as she walked by his desk to get to her office. Sleep was something that she had managed to get in five- and ten-minute snatches in between staring at the ceiling and thinking about Logan. It hadn’t been a good night.

  “Nice to see yon, too, Albert,” she muttered sarcastically.

  He cocked his head, watching her. “Pull an allnighter?”

  Standing before her door, she sighed and turned around. He’d be at her all day unless she set him straight. “Not that it’s any business of yours, but I had dinner at the Buchanan house and then I went home.” She saw the next question forming. “Early.” Jessica pointed toward his computer. “What have you got for me?”

  He crossed his arms before his shallow chest. “Other than sage advice?”

  She rolled her eyes toward the ceiling, indicating her impatience. “Other than sage advice.”

  He’d been at it since she gave him the list. “Does the word zilch conjure up any images?”

  She frowned, walking back to his desk as if that could magically produce some positive results. “None that I want.”

  “Then sorry to disappoint, but that’s the operative word for this morning.” He waved a hand at the list on his desk. “Preliminary findings so far show that all these lovely people appear to be solvent and rolling in enough money and stock options to validly sport a label that declares them obscene. I don’t think there’s a murderer lurking amid them.” He paused, thinking of Logan. “But one can always hope.”

  Logan wasn’t all bad. Just bad for her. “You don’t mean that.”

  Albert’s chin met his chest as he looked down at her. “Try me.”

  She didn’t need anyone fighting her battles for her. Or taking offense on her behalf. Not now, at least. “Albert, you really should get a life of your own.” She patted his cheek before walking into her own office.

  Albert followed her into her office. “Your mother called. Something about your coming to her bachelorette party.”

  Jessica sang down on her chair with a thud. “Oh, God, she’s getting married again.”

  A nod from Albert confirmed it. “So she said.”

  What did this make, number four, or was it five? Five, Jessica remembered, if she counted Douglas, whom her mother married twice, squeezing in Antonio in between. She hardly remembered what either man looked like. Her mother would probably say the same thing.

  Jessica turned her chair to face Albert. “Did she leave a number where I could reach her?”

  He pointed. “On your desk.”

  She picked up the littl
e blue Post-it. Precise numbers were written in the middle. “What kind of area code is this?”

  “Paris, I believe,” he recalled. “She said if you took the Concorde immediately, you could be there in time for the party.” She pushed the number aside. “You’re not going?” he asked, feigning surprise.

  “There’ll be another in a year or so. There always is.” It would be nice to believe that her mother had finally found the right man. She supposed there was always hope. She picked up the other phone message he’d taken for her. “What’s this one?”

  Straightening, Albert’s bearing changed completely. “A woman calling to find out if you took kidnapping cases. Someone abducted her daughter from a mall, and she doesn’t feel the police are doing enough.”

  “They’re probably not,” Jessica agreed. “Through no fault of their own.” She knew a few policemen, detectives who worked homicide. Overworked, every one of them. She opened her drawer, looking for her address book.

  Without a word, Albert walked over to her desk, opened another drawer and took out the address book. He placed it in front of her.

  “I assume you’re looking for this. Although if you ask me, you should refer Buchanan’s case to someone else and take this one.”

  “I didn’t ask.” She didn’t bother telling him that she’d already suggested it and was shot down.

  She glanced toward Albert. “But I will ask you to get back to the list of names and keep working with it, Gut feeling says we’re missing something.”

  Jessica turned to the page where she had jotted down the number of ChildFinders, Inc., a local detective agency whose investigators specialized in finding missing children and runaways. Pressing the page down so that she could read it more easily, she dialed the number on the blue slip of paper.

  Listening to Savannah King on the other end of the line tell her about the moment her world froze, the moment she realized that her child had been abducted, brought tears to Jessica’s eyes.

  For a moment she silently fought a battle with herself, wanting to offer her services to the woman in any capacity. But she couldn’t be everywhere, couldn’t spread herself so thin that she was of no use to anyone. And this woman was better off going to ChildFinders, Inc. The man who ran the agency, Cade Townsend, had experienced the same set of circumstances that the woman found herself in. He would know what to do and how to handle not only the situation, but the woman as well.

  The best thing she could do for Savannah King was give her ChildFinders, Inc.’s number. Interrupting her as gently as she could, Jessica told her about the agency and recited the telephone number to her amid assurances that if anyone could help, they could.

  That done, Jessica pressed the flash button on the telephone cradle, breaking the connection. Next on her list of phone calls was Alan Burke, who headed Kellogg Labs, an analytical laboratory that specialized in running forensic tests for both the police force and for private investigators. Without a doubt, they were the best in their field. Now that she’d definitely decided to take the case, it was time to go into high gear.

  But before she could press the appropriate numbers on the keypad, the telephone rang beneath her outstretched hand, sending a tingling sensation clear through her fingertips.

  Maybe it was a sixth sense, or maybe it was because she’d spent the past eight hours thinking about him, but a second before she said a word, Jessica knew the caller was Logan.

  “Jessi?”

  The sound of his voice saying her name enveloped her like a warm, comforting embrace. Shaking it off, she chalked it up to the vulnerable state she was in after her conversation with Savannah.

  But unless she was mistaken, there was also a slight, almost imperceptible edge to his voice. “Logan, what’s wrong?”

  Chapter 6

  He paused before speaking, as if to collect himself and restrict any outward signs that might suggest any image of himself other than the one he wanted her to see. “Does something have to be wrong for me to call my private investigator?”

  She knew him too well to be put off the scent by that. Or to retreat. “Why are you calling me, Logan? What happened?”

  He laughed, but there was a trace of admiration when he spoke. “You didn’t tell me a crystal ball was part of your office equipment”

  She had no time for cute repartee. “Logan—”

  He heard the warning note in her voice and became as serious as he could allow himself to be in the given situation. He had no intention of allowing the threats to actually get to him, or undermine his confidence. He’d seen what happened to racers when they let doubts creep in. They became a danger to themselves as well as to everyone else. Some creep was trying to do that to him, and he wouldn’t allow it.

  “Dane thought it might be a good idea if I called and told you that another one of those letters turned up. It arrived in today’s mail. Fresh off the mail cart,” he added cheerfully.

  His chipper voice grated on Jessica’s nerves. What did it take for the man to realize how serious this could be? His life was being threatened, and there was always a chance...

  Jessica passed her hand over her forehead, unconsciously massaging away the headache that had begun to set up lodging. His words replayed themselves in her head.

  “When did Dane get back?”

  Maybe she could finally get together with Dane and get something substantial to go on. At the very least, he would know the board members better than Logan apparently did.

  “This morning. Went straight to the office, the little workaholie.” Dane really had to get himself a life that went beyond spreadsheets and stock options, Logan thought. His brother’s brief marriage had lasted less than two years, ending because he’d spent so much time behind one desk or another, flying from one branch office to the next. “Actually, he saw the letter before I did.” Logan paused. “Whoever’s writing them has stepped up their schedule.”

  Jessica read between the lines. So, it did bother him. Maybe, behind the brash words and swaggering attitude, he was worried. Jessica felt sympathy twine itself with concern before she locked the emotions away.

  “Are you at the office right now?”

  “Yes.”

  Writing quickly, she made a few notes to herself. Maybe she could corral both brothers at once. “Don’t go anywhere, I’ll be right there.”

  He had a mental image of Jessica, barefoot on the beach as twilight softly descended. Hurrying toward him. Logan felt his body respond as the memory lingered. “I feel safer already.”

  She didn’t know whether to make him privy to the few choice words that rose to her lips, or just shrug off his response as nerves on his part. If it was the latter, it was a first. Nothing made Logan nervous.

  Unless it was commitment.

  “Good.” She let the receiver drop into the cradle and reached for her purse. So much for getting organized this morning.

  “By the way,” Albert called into the office after he saw the red light on the telephone go out, “did you see yesterday’s paper?”

  The days when she’d curl up with the morning paper and a large cup of exotic-tasting coffee were long in her past. “Only as I walked by it on my way out.”

  “Your fair-haired boys made the news.” Albert walked into her office with the section in question held out in his hand. “Specifically, the front page of the business section.”

  Albert folded the section so that the lead photo sprang up at her. Crossing to her, he dropped the section on her desk. Across the top was the heading “Buchanan brothers take opposite sides in proposed merger.”

  Jessica picked up the newspaper. Damn. So it was public knowledge now. That was probably what had caused whoever was making the threats to send this latest letter. He undoubtedly assumed that Logan was ignoring him. Not much of a leap.

  Eyes skimming down the column, she gave the article a quick, cursory read. Words jumped out at her, just as she knew they would at the person responsible for sending Logan’s letters. Specifically
the surprising turn taken by someone the news media considered a “globe-trotting, fun-at-any-price personality.”

  “Terrific.” She tossed the paper aside. It slid off her desk. “Damn reporters, anyway.”

  “My sentiments exactly.” Picking up the section, Albert neatly refolded it and placed it on the side of her desk.

  The words damage control sprang to her mind. This was going to need a lot of it. Jessica glanced at her watch. She had to get rolling. There was no telling how long Logan was going to stay put, and Buchanan Technology was almost twenty miles away. Any morning traffic would just cut into her time.

  She glanced at the Post-it note on her desk. She’d forgotten about her mother. “Call my mother, tell her I’m sorry, but I can’t make it.”

  “She’s not going to be happy.”

  So what else was new? “She never is with me. Find out where she’s staying and send her three dozen roses....”

  She would place the call herself, but she knew there would be an argument if she did. An argument that would end with her mother calling her an ungrateful child for not dutifully turning up at her side to smile for the photographers. There was nothing to be gained by either one of them being agitated. This was better.

  Albert’s half smile made him look as if he’d just licked a lemon slice. “With or without bougainvillea stems?”

  “Without.” She pushed the letters on the desk toward him. “And take the letters and that card that came yesterday to Kellogg Labs. While you’re at it, you might as well take the box, too. See what Alan can come up with.”

  Albert nodded, gathering the evidence and placing it in a plastic envelope. He raised his wheat-colored eyebrows to fix her with a look. “Shall I organize the mice to make me a dress for the ball?”

  He wouldn’t be Albert if he didn’t complain. “Only if you really want to, Albert. Light blue gets my vote.” She was at the door. “I’ll call in later.”

  With a flick of his wrist, he waved her on her way. “Looking forward to it.”

  One in a million, she thought, shutting the door behind her. And he was all hers.