Whisper of Bones (Widow's Island #3)(23)

“Logan.” Tessa stopped him with a hand on his forearm. “You’re clearly not all right. Please don’t hold back. If this is going to work between us, you have to tell me what you’re feeling.”

He opened his mouth, then shut it again. His reflex was to blow off her comment. But their relationship, though new, was never going to be anything but serious. He’d known her too long—and he’d cared about her for too many years—to risk her heart on a passing fling. He needed to be honest with her.

“It was a nightmare,” he admitted.

She squeezed his arm. “I’m sorry you have those. They seem to be getting worse.”

“I didn’t expect them to go away overnight.” But he had expected to improve once he got home.

“Have you talked to anyone about them?”

“You mean a psychiatrist?”

She nodded.

“Not since I came home.” He’d had a few decompression sessions right after the explosion.

“I think you should.”

“I’ll think about it.” He scratched his head. Just because he understood the need to be honest didn’t mean he would ever be comfortable talking about his flashbacks. “Thanks for interrupting.”

“Anytime.” She smiled and tugged him closer.

“I’m all sweaty.” He stiffened.

“I don’t care.” She wrapped her arms around his waist.

He resisted for approximately a nanosecond, then leaned into her, accepting the comfort she offered. He rested his face on the top of her head. Her hair smelled fresh and clean, like lemons.

Leaning back, she smiled up at him. “That’s better.”

She rose onto her toes and pressed her lips against his.

Comfort shifted into desire. Logan’s hand slid to the small of her back, and he pressed her more tightly against him. He considered taking her into the shower with him, but he didn’t want to be rushed. Not for their first time. He wanted to make a grand romantic gesture, but planning a special night was proving impossible. Tessa was overloaded with responsibility.

Her phone beeped, and she sighed. “If only we had normal lives and normal amounts of free time. I’ll take this call while you shower.”

He stepped back. “I’ll be quick about it.”

Tessa moved away to answer her call. Logan returned to the bathroom. He turned the water to cold, stripped, and stepped under the spray.

He’d barely lathered up when a knock on the doorframe startled him. Tessa stood in the doorway, and he almost laughed at the hand she held over her eyes. “We need to go. That was Bruce. Someone attacked Marybeth this morning.”

Anger filled him at the thought of someone hurting Jason’s spunky secretary.

“Give me two minutes.” Logan rinsed, dried off, and dressed. He grabbed his socks, boots, and jacket and carried them toward the door. “Let’s go.”

Tessa started the engine while he locked his cabin. In the front seat, he finished dressing while she drove, lights swirling, to a condominium complex on the other side of North Sound. “Bruce said she didn’t show up at Jason’s office this morning. He called her, and when she didn’t answer her phone, he drove over to her condo. She didn’t answer her door either, so he was worried and got the building manager to let him in. She wasn’t in her apartment. The manager said she walks every morning. Bruce found her on the jogging path.”

Tessa turned into the entrance and braked hard at the front of the parking lot.

Logan pointed to the doctor’s vehicle. “Henry’s already here.”

“He was closer than we were.” Tessa climbed out of the driver’s seat and removed a blanket from the trunk.

Logan followed her toward a macadam path that seemed to loop around the buildings. “Which way?”

“Toward the water.” Tessa broke into a jog. They ran a hundred yards before they spotted Bruce kneeling on the path. The body on the ground next to him wore a puffy purple jacket and bright-yellow athletic tights. Marybeth.

Someone didn’t want her searching Jason’s office.

Henry was kneeling at Marybeth’s other side.

Tessa crouched next to Henry. “How is she?”

The older woman lay still. Too still. Logan looked over Tessa’s shoulder. Blood trickled down Marybeth’s forehead. Her eyes were closed, her breathing shallow. Logan felt sick.

Henry was starting an IV. He took the blanket and spread it over her body.

Henry’s eyes were grave. “We need to get her to the mainland.”

There was no urgent care or ambulance service on Widow’s Island.

Bruce got up and paced. “If I’d thought she was in danger, I would have stayed with her.”

“No one anticipated this, Bruce.” Tessa straightened and stood in front of him, blocking his pacing. “Do not blame yourself. Can you carry her to your patrol vehicle?”

Bruce nodded.

“Then I need you to drive her to the hospital on the mainland.” Tessa whipped out her phone. “I’ll call the ferry station and have them hold the boat for you.”

“I’ll ride with you.” Henry packed up his supplies.

Bruce gently scooped Marybeth from the ground. Logan looped the IV line across her body and tucked the blanket around her. Her face was sunken and eggshell white with no sign of her energy or spunk. Anger sparked in his chest. What kind of scumbag would beat an old woman over the head?