The three missing exes. “Sonofabitch.”
“Yes, that’s typically how I think of him, too.”
“He’s talked to you? Made contact?”
Her lashes lifted. Her gaze darted toward the front of the vehicle. Toward Logan? “It’s rather complicated,” Alice explained.
“Murder often is.” Saint was tired of the bullshit. Rage pulsed through him. “If you had a stalker, if you knew someone else was behind all these crimes, why the hell didn’t you tell me from day one?” Instead, she’d kept him in the dark. Now Tracy was dead. He’d assumed Tracy had been the shooter that morning, but what if it hadn’t been her? What if it had been Alice’s stalker?
Fuck me. Tracy was stalking her, too. I’ve been dodging Alice’s steps and…this guy, too? This fucking sonofabitch who—
That proud chin of Alice’s angled higher even as her head swung back toward him. “If I had told you back then, would you have believed me?”
“I—” Dammit. He wasn’t going to lie. “No.”
Her lips pulled down. “Exactly.” Sadness. She settled back against the seat. “You don’t even know if you believe me now, do you?”
He let the question hang in the air between them.
Her shoulders hunched. “Thanks.”
He was hurting her. Hurting her seemed to hurt him. “I don’t know what to believe.” An absolute truth. “You’ve been keeping secrets from me.”
“Don’t feel bad about that, man!” Logan called from the front, voice oddly cheery compared to Alice’s. Compared to Saint’s. “She keeps secrets from everyone, even me, and I’m the closest thing to family she’s got.”
“She has me now.” Not that he was family but…he was something. He did not know what the hell they were to each other, but Alice was linked to him.
He was linked to Alice.
Logan laughed. “Sure. You’re here with her, until you’re done with the case and you either lock her away or clear her name. Then you’re out of town, and she’s left behind.”
Leave Alice? He rubbed his chest. He wasn’t gonna think about that. “I don’t plan for the future.”
“And I try not to look at the past,” she whispered.
He could see why, considering her past. “Yeah, mine’s pretty shitty, too.”
Alice’s stare darted his way.
“You will tell me everything,” he vowed.
Logan braked again. “And what are you gonna do, hero? Save the day for her?”
“No.” He was far from a hero. He needed Alice to see him for what he was. “But maybe I’ll just put some deserving bastard in the ground for her. Will that work?”
***
Alice didn’t let her shoulders slump. Iron will kept her upright. They’d finally made it to her house. Surprise, surprise, there had been some reporters hanging around outside, too. They’d had plenty of lights with them to combat the darkness of the night.
Good thing she didn’t have close neighbors. They would have been pissed.
Logan insisted on coming inside. He kept glaring at her and Saint. Saint, for his part, seemed incredibly cool. Almost too calm. She feared it might be one of those calm before the storm situations. When the storm hit, Alice had a feeling it would certainly be a sight to see.
“The speakeasy is a crime scene. Cops won’t let anyone in or out.” Logan stomped around her den as tension rolled off him. “They want to interview all the employees. Want every bit of security footage we have.” A bitter laugh. “They don’t get that we only had cameras in the back.”
That wasn’t exactly true, but she didn’t speak.
“Clusterfuck.” Logan swiped a hand over his face. “What the hell are we gonna do now?”
“Hire more staff.” She could be as cool as Saint. More so. Her voice had sounded perfectly undisturbed.
Logan whirled toward her. “Excuse me?”
“When the cops are done and we’re given the all clear, the line to get inside Abracadabra will stretch for blocks.” She could use a drink. Would that help her throbbing temples or make them worse? “Everyone will want to see the murder scene. We’ll have to open up my office. Change it into a real VIP room. People will pay extra to get inside.”
Logan’s eyes widened. Then… “Hell, yes!” A grin split his face. “Hell, yes, they will. We thought traffic was heavy when they just wanted to get a peek at you. But if they are at an actual murder scene…” He shook his head. “Shit, we can even let those paranormal tours book private visits. They’ll try to contact Tracy from beyond the grave. Maybe they can even get her ghost to tell them who shoved her into that—”
“Is that shit supposed to be a joke?” Saint’s voice cracked like a whip.
Uh, oh. The storm is coming.
“I—” Logan snapped his lips closed. “It’s business.”
“Exploiting a dead woman? That’s your business?” His burning gaze landed on Alice.
She shrugged. “It will pay the bills.” Oh, but she sounded like a cold bitch. I am what I have to be.
“Yep. Yep, it will.” Logan slapped his thigh. “Okay, I’ll hire more staff. On it. And do you need me to call your lawyer? Get Raven ready to roll in case you’re arrested?”
“They never arrest me. No evidence.” A drink was definitely in order, but first… “I’ll talk to her. Don’t worry.” It never hurt to make sure your lawyer was at the ready.
Logan crossed to stand in front of her, seemingly ignoring Saint. A lie, of course. Saint was a hard man to ignore.
“At first…” Logan’s voice had dropped. She knew he only wanted her to hear this part. “When I heard a body had been found in your office, I was afraid it was you. That the freak had finally crossed the line and gone after you.” He wasn’t joking any longer. No more dark plans for their business. Suddenly, he seemed deadly serious.
But his concern wasn’t necessary. “He never hurts me. That’s not the point.”
Logan’s expression hardened. “He just hasn’t hurt you yet. Your luck will run out one day.”
Her luck had run out long ago.
Logan dragged her into a bear hug. “Call if you need me. I’m always just a phone call away.”
She nodded, knowing he felt the movement.
When Logan eased back, he spared a glance for Saint. “Guessing you plan on staying?”
“I’ll be moving in.”
Her brows rose. Alice didn’t quite remember issuing an invitation for him to do that. Someone was being quite presumptuous. But now wasn’t the time for an argument. That could wait until Logan was gone.
Saint was the one to see Logan to the door. “Thanks for the ride,” he drawled.
Yes, they’d have to be sure and get Saint’s car from the speakeasy soon…maybe after—
Logan spun and jabbed a finger into Saint’s chest. “I don’t like you.”
Saint peered down at the offending finger. “I can absolutely assure you that the feeling is mutual.”
“She likes you, though.”