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Nobody had a chance to argue as just then a taunting whistle rang out, along with the words, “Well, I’ll be damned. Is that you, baby brother?”
Following the sound, Nico’s eyes landed on a figure moving out of the tree line and into their view. Colin had described Logan as a “bad boy.” In Nico’s mind, that put him around the same age as Isabelle, maybe some leather-jacket-wearing, drives-too-fast-on-his-motorcycle, gangster-rap-blaring punk. But as Seth’s brother meandered toward them, Nico’s brain was forced to rapidly reassess his expectations. This was no boy. This was a man. Fully grown and built like an ox, one arm casually dangled a shotgun while his flat gray eyes swept over the three of them with distrust. No wonder the Moss’s were against the relationship. If he had a young daughter, he wouldn’t want her anywhere near this guy. Nico also noted his knuckles were covered in the telltale blood and bruises of a recent fight.
“Logan,” was all Seth said by way of a greeting.
“Look at you all grown up.” Logan snickered. “Cute uniform. Hey, boys! Get out here and look at this.”
More figures appeared—eight or so—shuffling away from the cover of the cabins, out of the shadows like timid rats. Nico didn’t know how long they’d all lived up here—didn’t want to—but the way they moved, so wary and alert, made them seem more like wild animals than men.
“You remember Bobby, right? Joe? Will? Old Gunner’s around here somewhere too.”
Seth nodded to the rough semicircle of mountain men. “Hey, fellas. Long time.”
None of them so much as acknowledged his hello, just continued chewing whatever was in their mouths—Nico knew better than to think it was gum—and staring coldly.
Logan tilted his head. “Look at what little Sethy’s made of himself, would you, boys? A real-life officer of the law.”
Seth’s jaw clenched as he made a discernible effort not to let his feathers get ruffled.
“So, what’s it like on the other side, bro? Hope it was worth abandoning your family to become such an upstanding citizen.”
“I didn’t come to dig up ancient history with you, Logan,” Seth replied.
“No? Then why the fuck are you here?”
Nico kept close watch on the gathering audience, realizing too late that if this turned dicey, they were significantly outnumbered. And outgunned. Hell, most of these burly bastards looked like they could take down a grizzly with their bare hands.
“We need to talk to you. It’s about Isabelle.”
Recognition and surprise dawned for half a second on Logan’s face—along with something vaguely resembling concern—then it was gone, replaced by a mask of indifference. “Isabelle . . . who?”
“We know you’re . . . involved with her,” Seth replied, his tone placating. He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “We need to talk to you. In private. It’s important.”
Logan’s eyes narrowed. “Wait, I see what’s going on here. Some bitch I took to bed is trying to pin me as her baby daddy, looking to squeeze some child support out of me. Am I right?” He shook his head and walked a slow, laughing circle. His companions appeared just as amused, sneering from the sidelines. “That’s why you drove your ass all the way up here? Oh, Sethy, that’s good, really.” He pointed to Nico and Frank. “Nice touch, by the way, bringing the extra muscle. What, were you too afraid to face me on your own?”
Ignoring the crescendo of laughter, Seth tried again. “Please, man, just trust me. This isn’t a conversation you’re going to want to have in front of everyone.”
“See, that’s where you’re wrong. Unlike some of us, I have no secrets from my family. I trust them.” Getting nose to nose with Seth, he added, “It’s you I don’t trust.”
Seth swallowed hard. “Alright. Fine. What were you doing in town two nights ago?”
“None of your damned business.”
“What if we make it our business?” Frank snapped.
Logan’s eyes cut to him. “What the fuck are you gonna do, pig?”
“Oh, that’s original.” Frank rolled his eyes. “Tell you what, how about you tell us what we want to know, and we don’t get an army of cops up here arresting you all for obstruction?”
For a beat, Logan said nothing.
“What the hell are you doing up here?” he growled at Seth, aggression rolling off him in waves. One beefy finger jabbed into Seth’s chest. “You been running your mouth about me again? You trying to bring more heat down on us, is that it? You know as well as I do that shit was shut down years ago. I swear to God, you little worm, if you cause me any trouble—”
“She’s dead,” Seth blurted, stopping the tirade. “Isabelle. She’s dead.”
Logan stepped back, both arms going slack. “What—what the hell are you talking about?”
“She was murdered. And . . .” Seth looked about as guilty as someone who’d run over a kid’s dog as he said, “You’re officially being considered a person of interest.”
