North Country(113)

“These are different times.”

She collects the Toronto Star from the coffee table.

My eyes skim Logan’s before I ask, “Do you remember that paper?”

“Yes. It was in the glove box of Jay’s truck.” She looks to the stack of printed articles regarding the jewelry crime. “Why are you interested in this?”

“Just caught my curiosity,” I lie with a casual shrug. I hate doing it, but I’d hate explaining the real reason more.

“You know how Em is,” Logan adds.

Annie hums and sets it back down. “Take the pie out in about forty-five minutes. As soon as it’s golden brown. There’s also a salad.” She rounds the couch and leans down to kiss Logan’s forehead as readily as if he were a five-year-old boy.

He waits until she’s gone. “You really think that was them?”

“Four armed suspects. Ian, Jay, Hank, and Travis.” I count on my fingers. “A white van that they could have gotten from the auto wreckers Hank was working at. We already know he was willing to mess with VINs under the radar. What better way to hide your crime than scrap your getaway vehicle? And then you’ve got half a million dollars’ worth of jewelry from a high-end store that hasn’t turned up, and no arrests have been made.” That’s motivation for Hank and Travis to be pressing Logan.

“So, they rob this store and then hold on to everything?” Logan says doubtfully.

“They couldn’t start hitting up pawnshops right away. That’s the first place the cops look. And the more expensive stuff had serial numbers laser engraved. It’s not easy offloading those without risking getting caught. Plus, that.” I tap the word armed in the headline. “They did not want to get caught.”

“So, they hid it all until they could figure out a safe way to unload it.” Logan sees where I’m going with this. “And what better place than on your family’s bison ranch.”

“Except it doesn’t sound like they told Hank and Travis where.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t tell Travis either. A guy like that would be back the next night to dig it up.” He smooths his palm over his bearded jaw. “Fuck. This means there’s literal gold and diamonds buried somewhere on my family’s land.”

“Safe bet. Yeah. And likely on that parcel Jon and Sarah bought. Nobody ever went back there.”

“What do we do?”

“We’re going to nail them for this. I’m going to build a case against Hank and Travis. Quietly. The last thing your family needs is a bunch of treasure hunters catching wind and showing up on your land with metal detectors.”

“And wandering into a field of bison, thinking they’re like cows. Can you imagine? Fuck.” Logan shakes his head.

“We have to find this stash,” I admit. “It could take years. And then figure out how to get Hank and Travis put away for it. For a long-ass time too.” I smile with grim determination. It’ll be what they deserve, both for the crime and for what they’ve done to Logan.

“You’re cute when you’re plotting revenge,” Logan muses, his hand smoothing over my abdomen.

“Yeah?” I wince in pain as I adjust my position to admire his handsome face. “How cute?”

He leans down to kiss me and then, with a sly smile, his hand ever so carefully slips under the waistband of my pants.





Chapter 39





Emery




April


Knuckles rap against my door a moment before it swings open. “McAllister. Good, you’re free.” Doug Freeman strolls in without an invitation, shutting the door behind him.

I calmly set the budget report I was reviewing aside. “Hey, Doug, this is a surprise. What are you doing out of headquarters?”

“Just a little drive, visiting my detachments.” He drops into the spare chair, his girth testing its construction.

“Little drive, huh.” His territory covers an area from Parry Sound to Moosonee, a town at the edge of the Arctic, so remote that you can only get to it by plane or train or an ice road in the winter.

“The local ones,” he amends, running the back of his hand under his nose to catch the perpetual drip before adjusting his uniform shirt collar.

The subtle move highlights the gold maple leaf and bar on his shoulder, marking his rank and the proof that one can be promoted far beyond their level of competence.

“How’s your girl doing? Still into the hockey?”

“She is, but their season’s over.” They lost by one goal in a heartbreaking defeat playing against Manitoulin, losing their chance to compete in provincials. Isla moped for a day, but I’m not going to lie—I don’t mind having my evenings free from driving to practice.

And the only time Doug tries to have a friendly conversation with me is when he’s about to ruin my day. “What can I do for you?” I don’t believe for one second he’s simply “touring,” and there’s only one reason I can think of that he would make the drive rather than pick up the phone.

“You know, for such a small detachment, yours really does create a lot of noise.” His lips purse in thought. “A complaint has been filed against you. Apparently, you traumatized a sixteen-year-old girl at a tournament in November?”