Dangerous request

Breakfast turned out to be a mix of American and Vietnamese, with eggs, bacon, fried rice, and milky rice porridge. Logan took his time spreading the food across the island in his sleek kitchen, and poured them both some cold tea.

Though she was so tired she could hardly keep her head up, Terri dug into the meal. Part of her wanted to sleep for days, and the other part wanted nothing more than to find the men who had kidnapped her and bring them to justice.

Anyone would probably feel the way she did, but years of studying and helping enforce laws probably exacerbated her desires. Nothing irked her like seeing criminals get away.

“I want to go back there,” she said, after they’d been sitting on opposite sides of the counter and eating in silence for a few minutes.

Logan cocked an eyebrow. “Where?” he asked slowly.

“The warehouse. You can take me there.”

He wiped his mouth with a cloth napkin and sighed. “Are you sure that’s the best idea?”

“Yes,” she said automatically.

His lips pressed tightly together. “I want to oblige you.”

“But, what? It would look too suspicious?”

“Among other things.” His gaze fixated on hers.

Her face turned warm. Though she suddenly felt bashful, she stopped herself from looking away.

“What other things?”

“It could be dangerous, and we won’t find anything.”

“What makes you say that?” She picked up a piece of bacon, but then put it down. Her hunger had dissipated.

“Black market 101 involves constantly moving around.”

“Right. Of course.” Her shoulders slumped forward.

“I’ll keep my ears open, okay? We’ll see what comes our way.”

She twisted her lips. “Okay. Thanks.”

It was something.

Another ring of the bell made them both sit up straighter.

“Be right back.” Logan slid off his stool.

She took the moment alone to further inspect the kitchen. Marble countertops. New appliances. A cutting board built into the end of the island. The place was a cook’s dream, but everything had a new, untouched quality. It didn’t seem Logan cooked at all, if ever.

Another thing she’d noticed about his place was the lack of photos. Most people had at least one up, whether it be of family or friends.

Or their significant other.

“Nope,” Terri whispered to herself, stabbing that forgotten piece of bacon with her fork.

She wasn’t going there. Logan was attractive, but all signs—from him knowing about the trafficking ring to being suspected of insider trading— made him bad news.

Her loose plans after the world-wide trip were to begin casually dating again once she returned to Chicago. And normal, sane people at that. Not mysterious rich guys who operated on the edges of illegal trades.

There was the sound of the front door closing, and Logan entered the kitchen carrying her tote bag and backpack. The sudden appearance of her belongings brought tears to Terri’s eyes. It was only stuff, but when you were on the complete other side of the world away from home, things could take on a heightened meaning.

“Thank you,” she gushed, grabbing the bags from him.

Immediately, she went through the bags. As she’d feared, her wallet and phone were gone.

“Shit.” Closing her eyes, she bit her bottom lip.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. If only I had…” Before she could finish the thought, she remembered the secret compartment in her backpack.

Turning the bag around, she fished in the bottom. As her fingers grazed her passport, she sighed in relief.

“Thank God.” Pulling the little blue book out, she flashed it at him. “It’s there.”

His face brightened; he looked genuinely pleased.

Which was weird. Nice as he was being, she still didn’t fully trust that he cared about her wellbeing.

“Now can I use your phone?” She put the bags on the floor.

“Of course.” He nodded at the living room. “The land line is on the far wall.”

For some reason, she hadn’t noticed the phone when they came into the apartment earlier. No surprise there. Plenty of other things had been on her mind.

Crossing the living room, she picked up the phone and dialed Charlie’s number, which she knew by heart. As it rang, she debated what to tell him.

Though Logan was in the other room, he had to be listening in. He’d asked her to not mention the trafficking ring, and for the time being, she’d have to obey that.

The phone rang several times with no response. Terri tried to do the math in her head to figure out what hour it was in Chicago, but her temples ached and all of reality had gone foggy. She didn’t even know if it was day or night there.

“This is Charles Lane,” the voicemail answered. “Leave a message.”

After the beep, Terri drew a breath and glanced over her shoulder. If Logan listened, he was at least being inconspicuous.

“Hey, Charlie. It’s me. My cell phone, uh, broke. Sucks. Anyway, I’ll call you back tomorrow to check in. I’m still in Ho Chi Minh, so everything is… good.”

Her voice took on a slight tremble. There was no one she was closer to than her brother. It made lying to him extra hard.

“Talk to you soon,” she added and hung up before he noticed how bad her voice shook.

It only occurred to her after she’d hung up that he would have appreciated a number to call her back at. Then again, maybe it was best she hadn’t given one. If Charlie was investigating Logan, he might be able to track the number to Logan’s penthouse.

“Everything good?”

She started at the sound of Logan’s voice. Spinning around, she found him leaning against the doorway to the kitchen, hands in his pockets.

“I hope so. He didn’t answer.”

He nodded and looked thoughtful. Lips parting, he looked like he might say something, but then he closed his mouth and smiled.

“What?” she asked.

“I was thinking you might like to rest.”

It was surely a lie, but whatever.

“Yeah,” she agreed. “I should try and sleep.”

How she would ever sleep again, she had no clue. The moment she closed her eyes, the terrifying night would be sure to replay over in her head.

“What about you?” she asked.

“I can’t sleep during the day. It’s always been a habit of mine.”

“Ah.” Taking her bags from the kitchen, she retreated to his bedroom. “See you in a little bit, I guess.”

“Let me know if you need anything,” he said, a new, husky quality to his voice that made Terri weak.

Like what? She wanted to ask. Anything?

But that would be flirting, and this was hardly the time or place and he was hardly the man to do that with.

So she nodded instead and went into his bedroom, closing the door firmly behind herself. It was a space as simply designed and practical as the rest of the home, with nothing notable other than the king-sized bed covered in pillows.

Dropping her bags on the floor, she collapsed onto the bed and drew the blankets up to her chin. A faint spiciness enveloped her, and it occurred to her for the first time that she was in a bed Logan had been in only hours before.

Oddly enough, the thought brought her some comfort. Encased in the walls of his penthouse, no one could get to her. The terrible men who’d dragged her from the hostel were gone for good.

Still…

Throwing off the covers, she got up and locked the bedroom door. Just in case.

Snuggling back into bed, she closed her eyes. The apartment had gone quiet. Whatever Logan was doing, he was being very discreet about it.

Did he wonder about her as much as she did about him? Or had he already dug up everything he wanted to, thanks to his private investigator?

Tucking her hands under her chin, she thought about home. Her brother. Parents. Friends. Even thinking about her potted plants and her cozy reading corner brought her joy.

One day soon, all of this would be in the past. With that knowledge, she drifted right off into sleep.