Chapter 16
The house Logan lives in with two roommates is unassuming, not at all flashy like the tall dude with glinting eyes, TV star-worthy teeth, who walks around wearing a cowboy hat in a university town in Indiana.
It’s not what I was expecting, though it is located right next to the exit leading to the riding school where he and Aaron both… what? Ride horses? Or does Logan work there? Am I making assumptions because of his accent and hat?
Maybe I am, but when a young woman opens the door in pink leisurewear and with her hair wrapped in a silk scarf, I smile at her as if I know what I’m doing.
But while she acknowledges me, her gaze focuses on the guy who brought me here. “Aaron, hi! You okay?”
My friend adjusts his black beanie. In the old-timey tweed jacket with leather patches on the elbows, he hardly looks like a threat.
“Good, thanks, Bree. I was wondering if we could chat about next week’s essay. I just brought my friend because he has time to kill and nowhere to be before we go out later. He won’t be a bother.”
I smile and show her a paper bag. “Yep, I even brought snacks.”
Bree rolls her eyes but, after a moment’s hesitation, introduces herself to me with a handshake. “Have you heard of this ingenious device called the phone, Aaron? You should use it sometime,” she says but stands aside to let us in.
Aaron waves it off. “You know me, always so into coursework I forget reality.”
I take a deep breath as I step into the lion’s den, but the place appears very normal. The macrame-framed mirror and potted plants hung in the hall make it kind of cozy. I don’t know why I imagined Logan would have a longhorn’s skull on the mantelpiece, but I see no bones or taxidermy anywhere.
Bree leads us to a small kitchen where she must have been studying, because three books are scattered on the countertop next to a filled notebook. I put the sandwiches and pastries right next to the selection of sticky notes.
I move them a little when Bree gives me a little scowl.
“Look, I’m in the kitchen because both my roommates are currently not home, so don’t upset this perfect spread, okay? The sandwiches go on the counter.”
I move the food, but she isn’t really offended and offers us a smile. “Do you both want something to drink?”
“Coffee for me,” Aaron says, but I shake my head.
“No, but I might need to spend some time in your bathroom. Can point me to it?”
She twists her lips but points her finger at the ceiling. “Upstairs.”
Which will hopefully make my job a lot easier.
My nerves are in tatters because I’m no superspy, but I climb the stairs as if my legs aren’t made of Jell-O.
There might never be another opportunity like this.
Logan is out of town, and I need to fix things with Cass.
All I need to do that is prove that Logan is a first class A-hole.
Then, Cass will ditch him, and I’ll get a chance at expressing my feelings, without being his damn mistress.
I can’t stand being only the second guy in his life, so this has to work.
The first room I open has stuffed toys on the bed, so I’m guessing it’s not Logan’s and quickly back out.
The next door’s decorated with a small poster of a handsome dude, which throws me off a bit, but I press the handle and lean inside.
The stale air is proof no one’s been inside for a while, which coincides with Logan’s two-week absence, so I place my bet and search for the light switch.
As the lamp turns on, revealing a tidy room in browns and dark blues, I know I’m in the right place.
A few framed photos of mountainous landscapes hang on the wall for decoration—fitting for a guy who fancies himself a cowboy—but it’s a large family photo that confirms my suspicions.
In the picture, Logan poses with a pretty young girl, and a middle-aged couple, and while they look as wholesome as any other family, I know for a fact Logan didn’t bother telling them about Cassian’s existence.
Such an asshole move.
I spot a sundew on the windowsill which, going by the pattern on its pot, must be a gift from Cass. I’d like to see it dried up as proof of Logan’s neglect, but I have to admit the plant is in great shape. Maybe Bree has brought it back to life while Logan’s been away.
But there’s no time to contemplate plants.
I head for Logan’s desk, trying to leave as little trace of my presence as possible.
I don’t know what exactly I’m searching for, but I will find it.
Proof that he abandoned a puppy? That he has another boyfriend on the side who doesn’t know about Cass and vice versa?
That in his free time he takes food from the homeless?
At this point, I expect anything from him.
He’s not treating my friend right. He’s not giving Cass the attention and care he deserves and thinks that one dinner together can fix things.
But he’s also in my way, and Cass would have never risked our friendship by doing sexual things if his relationship, even an open one, was going great. There were surely feelings involved, similar to mine, but we can’t explore them until Logan is out of the picture.
There needs to be something here that shows his true face.
The first drawer reveals coursework. The other is bills, warranties, and such. After the remaining drawers leave me with no incriminating material, I move on to Logan’s entertainment unit, but all I find is a record player and console games.
Sweat beads on my back when I wonder how much time I’ve already spent here. What if Bree decides to look for me? Aaron’s too skinny to keep her in the kitchen if she doesn’t want to stay there, and if she stormed up here and found me, I might be arrested, or… something!
Then again, didn’t bringing her a croissant count for something?
I’m getting distracted.
I grab a box from a shelf under the small TV, but still the moment I open it.
Photos. Hopefully not of the people Logan murdered and dismembered.
I start browsing through them at a frantic pace. Most show him with family members, with his horse, there’s even one with Cass that makes my blood boil. Why would he print it? Isn’t it enough for him to have digital pics with Cass?
At the very bottom of the box, I find a tattered yellow envelope containing yet more pictures, but while I’m close to losing hope at this point, my blood freezes when I take in its contents.
This is it.
The motherlode.
Logan. Is. Married.