and Logan looked at her and spoke in unison. “What phone calls?”
Devon told them about the two calls she’d received.
“Checking on you,” Logan pointed out. “You told them you were leaving the house. They decided to follow you and trap you on the road. There’s hardly any traffic out, and they knew at the curve they could run you off into the ditch and corner you.”
“In any event,” Sheri added, “let’s watch what we say, who we say it to, and who’s around when we do.”
“No kidding.” Devon rubbed her forehead, trying to ease the building headache. Damn it. She had to pull herself together. If only she had some answers. Daddy, what’s happened to you? She felt her throat tighten as tears threatened and forced herself to swallow. Then she remembered something.
“Sheri?”
The chief of police turned to her. “Yes?”
“While I was driving here, I kept trying to call my dad. The landline has no answering machine, but he has voicemail on his cell. It didn’t answer, though.”
“That’s because he doesn’t have it.”
Devon frowned. “What?”
“We found it on the floor in the garage, the only thing out of place.”
“But it still would have gone to voicemail, wouldn’t it?”
“We think your father might have dropped it when he was leaving.” Sheri paused. “Devon, he restored it all to its original factory settings. That’s a good indication of premeditation on his part.”
“But why? Maybe he was planning to get a new one and just didn’t have a chance to pick it up.”
“Anything is possible,” Sheri agreed. “We’re looking at every angle, I promise you.”
“So you couldn’t get anything from it?” she persisted. “Texts? Numbers? Nothing?”
“There is a way to get past the factory wipe and restore all the data on it. We’re working on that right now.”
“Working how?” And how fast, she wanted to ask.
“One option is a warrant to do whatever is needed to dig out the information still hidden there.”
“And the other?”
“I want to talk to Avery about it, which is why it’s still locked in my evidence lockers. No matter what, we’re going to find out what happened.” She touched Devon’s hand. “I promise you that.”
Logan crouched down beside her and looked at her intently, his eyes assessing her. For the first time, she got a good look at him.
His eyes were grayish blue like the ocean on a stormy day. Eyes a woman could lose herself in. Eyes that gave away no secrets about the man. They were framed by sinfully thick lashes that matched hair blacker than midnight, which hung to his collar. His chiseled jaw had just the right amount of scruff. A thin, nearly invisible white scar that traveled from his eyebrow to his jaw. Firm lips that teased upward in a half smile. And a body, leaning squarely over her, that looked to be all hard muscle that strained the fabric of his black T-shirt and his jeans. It could have been created by a sculptor. He was the most darkly gorgeous man she’d ever seen. She stared at him and felt as if a lightning bolt had struck clean through her.
Oh, God. The sizzle between them was so hot she wondered it didn’t crackle in the air. Did he feel it just as strongly?
Damn, Devon. This isn’t the time for this.
Then she thought, I can’t let him see what a mess I am inside.
Sheri moved up beside Logan. “Listen, guys, I hate to pour more hot oil on this, but we’ve got another problem here. One more reason to get the hell off this road and get Devon inside somewhere. You’ve seen the reporters in town, right?”
He nodded. “Like rats after dead meat. They were here when the Coast Guard report went out and they went on high alert. Suddenly it became more than chasing the story about Vince Pellegrino’s so-called accident. I heard them talking in Fresh Roasted this morning. There are no secrets in Arrowhead Bay.”
“Graham Cole is a story all by himself,” she reminded him. “The death of his vice president was all over the news and just stirs the pot even more.”
“What death?” Logan narrowed his eyes. “I make it my business to stay away from the news except when it has to do with a client. You think this all has something to do with Cole International?”
“With a corporation that size,” Sheri said, “all kinds of things are possible. I chased away all but a couple of the jerks, but if they sniff out that Devon’s here, and find out about this…episode, they’ll be hot after her.”
Devon listened to them, the nausea growing inside her.
“Well,” Logan drawled, “we just won’t let that happen.”
He started to say something else when yet another car pulled up and Avery March popped out of it. “Hey, Devon. How’s it going?”
Devon’s laugh was slightly hysterical. “Oh, great, Avery. Best day of my life.”
She laughed. “Sheri told me my star employee is managing to keep himself busy. I figured I’d check it out for myself.”
“And right now being busy means getting Devon’s stuff out of her car before the tow truck gets here,” he told her.
Devon looked at Avery. “I get the feeling from the way he handled my little incident he’s probably in a class by himself.”
Avery nodded. “You’ve got that right. He was in the Marines before he hired on with Vigilance.” She leaned closer to Devon. “Don’t tell anyone, but he knows twenty different ways to kill a man.” She winked.
Devon’s eyes widened. “You’re kidding.”
“Uh-uh. I’d definitely want him on my side.”
Devon silently blessed whatever act of the fates had sent Logan to her…and by extension, Avery…at just the right time. He had saved her, and that feeling of being protected flashed through her every time she looked at him.
It took him two trips but Logan soon had everything out of her car and stashed it in his truck.
“Thank you.” She gave him a grateful smile.
“No problem.” He winked. “I live to serve.”
The noise of a heavy vehicle sounded and the tow truck lumbered up to where they were. The driver hopped out and greeted Sheri and Avery before asking everyone to move their vehicles so he could hook up Devon’s car.
Devon thought one of the nicest things about a small town like Arrowhead Bay was the camaraderie. Sheri had told her once that after you meet someone here they’re no longer a stranger. Right now that small-town atmosphere was steadying her nerves.
Not
