Crazy for Her(35)
She was a romance writer, after all, and had trained herself to watch lovers’ eyes. When she and Evan had gone out, sometimes he would tease her about being more interested in the undercurrents of those around them than him. Not true, she’d protested while feeling guilty that sometimes it was true, especially if she was in the middle of a work-in-progress.
What she saw in Logan’s eyes made her want to run to her computer and find the words to capture that hot, I-want-to-devour-you look he turned her way. God, she wanted to explore the possibilities his heated glances promised. For sure, if—no, when—it happened, they would burn the sheets to ashes.
As soon as her stalker was caught, Logan would leave. He would always be only a phone call away if she needed him, which was a comfort, but each day she was with him, he grew more captivating. She wanted to learn his secrets, soothe his hurts, but most of all she wanted to make love with him.
Oh yes, Doxy Dani, that was her. She gave one last admiring look at her sparkling yellow toenails and then went to find Logan and her daughter.
The next morning, after dropping Dani off at Jared and Scott’s, Logan made another round of the nearby motels. Although he kept an eye out for the black Ford truck, he thought it likely the man had changed vehicles. After the seventh stop, he decided to give up for the day. A few miles down the road, however, he noticed a seedy motel set back from the road, almost hidden by a secondhand clothing store. What the hell, might as well check it out.
“I’m looking for my brother,” he told the man behind the counter.
Bloodshot eyes distorted by the thickest pair of glasses Logan had ever seen peered back at him. “And I’m Santa Claus.”
Logan ignored the sarcasm and described a bald Evan. Recognition flared in the man’s eyes before he hid it. Logan slid a twenty halfway across the counter, but kept his hand over it. “You have a name for him?”
The man eyed the money. “Would you believe John Smith?”
“I believe that’s the name he registered under, yes. Is he still checked in?”
“Left yesterday.”
Shit. “What kind of car did he drive?”
“Never saw him driving one.”
Logan pulled the twenty back his way.
“Never said I didn’t see a car parked in front of his room.”
He pushed the bill back toward the clerk. “What kind?”
“A white one.”
Tired of the game, Logan pocketed the twenty and turned to leave.
“Ford Taurus. Late model.”
“Anything else you can tell me about him?”
“Would think you’d know him better ’n me, you being his brother and all.”
“Humor me.”
“Didya hear the one about the three ducks that went in—”
Logan grabbed the man’s collar and pulled him halfway across the counter. “I don’t think you’re as stupid as you want me to believe. You know something, and I want to know what.”
“Could be I have a thing for numbers. Let go, and I’ll tell ya.”
Logan left with the license plate number. He considered going to the police department and giving it to Detective Langley, but decided against it. It would be better to have a heads-up on who this character was before involving the police any further.
Seeing a McDonald’s ahead, he pulled into the drive-through, got a hamburger and coffee, and then called Buchanan. After relaying the plate numbers, he asked for an update.
“Turner’s in Dallas, but hasn’t had much luck yet finding anyone who remembers the family before Prescott’s mother supposedly died.”
Logan frowned. “Why do you say ‘supposedly’?”
“So far, we haven’t found a death certificate. When did you say she died?”
“Evan said he was two, so that would be what, twenty-six years ago?”
“Well, we’ve looked for one from the time Prescott was born to several years after and found nothing, but we’ll keep searching.”
“You got a copy of Evan’s birth certificate?” Logan asked.
“Yeah, why?”
“Check the hospital records and see if there’s another one.”
“I’m confused. Another one for Prescott?”
Logan hesitated. The idea had been brewing, but he’d yet to put it into words. It sounded crazy, but the feeling was too strong to ignore. “No, for Evan’s twin.”
There was a long pause. “I didn’t know he had one.”
“I’m not sure he did, and if so, I don’t think he knew. You said the fingerprint was very similar to Evan’s, and I did some research. That’s common with twins, and there are some other things that make me think it’s possible. Call me when you know something.”