Chapter 3
Logan
“This shit is enough to make me hate my job. Do you know how much it fucking sucks to trip over a charred body?”
I drop the last bite of my burger in the red plastic basket on the table in front of me. The thought and visual of Roy Planter’s remains has officially killed my appetite.
Granger lifts his beer and takes a swig. “Poor, stupid motherfucker. Shoulda known better. Got my ass out of bed at three a.m. to deal with his mess.”
I reach for my beer. “Cody came around asking questions this morning. Wanting to know why I fired Roy.”
Granger sets his beer on the table between us. “Because he was a drunk, and everyone knows you let him stay on way too long.”
“That’s what I told him.”
“Makes you think about how fickle of a bitch this life is. One minute you’re doing something stupid, and the next you’re dead and your family finds out you’re cooking meth.”
“Any chance you’re wrong about the meth?”
Granger shakes his head. “No. This is my third meth house in the last few weeks. The signs are impossible to miss. When we went to Lexington three years ago to train on this, I never thought I’d have to worry about all the extra steps we’ve gotta take, but now it’s way too familiar.”
“Do you think they’re related?”
He shrugs. “I don’t fucking know. It’s not my job to figure out who set ’em, just to put ’em out. But damned if they’re not pissing me off. No one thinks about me and my guys putting our asses on the line every time we ride out to a call. If this shit gets one of us killed, I’m gonna tear this town apart until I find out who’s behind it. I don’t need to be making a call to someone’s wife or parents telling them some asshole cookin’ meth is responsible for puttin’ one of my guys in the ground.”
“Hey, guys, can I get you anything?” Rosie, the cocktail waitress, asks as she stops at our table. Banner filled in for her on one of her first nights in Gold Haven.
Granger’s gaze shoots across the room as a gust of wind blows through the doors, followed by a familiar laugh. I glance over to see Julianne coming in with one of her salon girls, Mary something. “Better get me another beer.”
“I’ll take one too.”
Granger’s attention shifts to Julianne as she comes toward us. Julianne braces as soon as she sees him, but doesn’t slow her stride.
“Where are you hiding Banner today? She was supposed to come in for nails, and she canceled.” Julianne pins her gaze on mine, completely ignoring Granger.
“She had to go back to New York to handle something.”
“She’s coming back here, though, right?”
The question crashes into me with the same force as the balls slamming into pins only a dozen feet away. My answer is fast and definite.
“Fuck yes, she’s coming back.” In my head, I add, especially if she’s pregnant with my kid.
“I like her. It’s nice to see at least one man can recognize a good thing when he has it.” The taunt is pointed, and Julianne spins on her heel and continues to the bar.
Granger chugs the rest of his beer before shooting another look at Julianne’s back. “Women are a fucking trap.” He turns back to me. “What the hell are you doing getting tangled up with one from New York, anyway? Is that shit serious?”
I don’t intend to say it, but the words come out. “It might be real fucking serious if I knocked her up.”
Granger’s eyes widen as he leans back in his chair and crosses his arms over his chest. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“I found a box of pregnancy tests in her bathroom this morning, and one was missing.”
“And?”
“And nothing.”
He leans forward, dropping his elbows on the table, and I’m grateful he keeps his voice low. “You didn’t demand answers right then? What the hell, man? You know how women are. Looking to trap you any way they can.”
This whole situation has been eating me all day, but I recognize the truth when I speak. “Banner isn’t like that. She’s not looking to trap me.”
Granger’s gaze narrows as he leans a few inches closer. “How do you know? She’s got a job and money of her own? Doesn’t need your paycheck?”
“She has her own business.”
“Successful?”
I reach for my beer. “Not yet. But she’s working on it.”
“So she doesn’t have a job that actually brings in money, and you’re still sure she’s not trying to lock you down?” He leans back in his chair again, an expectant look on his face.
Even with the facts objectively stacking up against her, there’s no way I can pin that motive on Banner. The more I think about it, the more I realize she’s exactly the opposite of the women I’ve dodged in Gold Haven. My New York City princess would run far and fast in the opposite direction if she thought she was trapped in Kentucky because she got knocked up by a mechanic. Or in this case, stay in New York . . .
Fuck.
“She’s not like that. You’ll see when you meet her.” Even though my words sound confident, I wonder what the hell I’m going to have to do to make sure Banner does come back. I’ll drive my ass up there and haul her home if I have to.
“Whatever you say, man. I’m done with women except for a quick fuck these days.”
Rosie comes back with our beers, and we change the subject to college basketball.
As I’m walking out of Pints and Pins, my phone buzzes in my pocket, finally, with a text from the woman who seems to be constantly on my mind.
BANNER NYC: It’s been a long crazy day. I have a ton of stuff to tell you, but I’m drained tonight. Talk tomorrow?
I climb in my truck and tap out my response.
LOGAN: Yeah. We need to start talking about all of it.
BANNER NYC: We will. Night. xo
LOGAN: Night, Bruce.
I fire up my truck and turn in the direction of my empty house, frustrated that I’m not getting any resolution on this subject tonight.