Page 24

CHAPTER

TWENTY-THREE

A couple of hours later, Logan, Duke, and Andi decided to call it a night.

They needed to get some rest so they could start fresh again tomorrow. Right now, they weren’t really getting anywhere, and Logan had been left with a pounding headache.

He’d considered going to Morgan’s again, but he didn’t think being there would help him find her at this point. He’d brought her journal with him, so he didn’t need to go back there to read more.

Instead, he went to his place.

He owned a small ranch-style home in Fairbanks. It was nothing fancy, and he hadn’t even taken much time to decorate it.

Morgan had always threatened to come and do a home makeover for him. He’d liked that idea a little too much—which was why he’d told her no.

The last thing he needed was to see reminders of her every time he came home.

It was bad enough that one of her photographs hung over his couch, making him think of her each time he walked in the room.

On his salary, he may not have been able to afford the artwork. Some of her pieces went for more than twenty thousand. But she’d cut him a deal.

She’d said she knew this photo was his favorite, and that she wanted him to have it.

It was a picture from Turnagain Arm near Anchorage. The day was perfectly gray and foggy with snow-capped mountains peeking out from the clouds in the distance. At the forefront of the photo was an old boot left on the shoreline.

The picture matched his navy-blue furniture and pine coffee and end tables.

Morgan had finally convinced him to buy a plant for the corner of the room—a monstera, she’d called it. She’d insisted that every house needed a plant to make it feel like home.

He’d scoffed at her idea, but he had to admit—the monstera did add a certain warmth to the space. He’d also purchased a gray knitted throw for the back of the couch.

Another one of Morgan’s ideas.

He’d had visions of her coming over. Of the two of them watching a movie together. Of Morgan cuddling under the blanket—beside him.

Logan had always tried to dismiss those images, but he usually wasn’t successful.

Why hadn’t he tried to talk to her sooner?

Though Logan told himself he was going to try to sleep, he pulled up his computer instead and began to look at more of the information Reeves had found on Morgan’s cell phone.

With every second that passed, the likelihood of getting Morgan back unharmed grew less and less.

He knew the work he had done today was valuable, but he was still frustrated at the realization he was no closer to answers now than he was before.

He had already gone through most of her text messages. So he decided to look at the other information now. He started with her emails, but they didn’t tell him anything of interest.

Then he moved on to her photos.

She preferred to take pictures with her camera and not on her phone. But every once in a while, she did use it.

He scrolled to the most recent pictures.

She had taken a few shots on her last photo shoot.

He flipped through several of them, smiling at a couple of selfies that showed Morgan with a big grin on her face.

Nothing made her happier than the creation process.

As he continued to scroll, he paused on one picture and squinted.

He zoomed in on the image, feeling certain his eyes were deceiving him.

But as he blew up the photo, an image of the man in the background became clearer.

His breath caught.

He wasn’t imagining things.

The man in the background may have been wearing an oversized coat and a knit hat with winter boots.

But Logan could easily envision this guy wearing a leather jacket, jeans, and black boots.

It was Knox, a member of the Iron Brotherhood.

And this photo, which was dated four weeks ago, showed this man in Alaska.

Near Morgan. Maybe even working with her.

Blending in with the people here, and all evidence of his past erased—at least in this picture.

Nausea rolled inside him at the thought.

It appeared he had gone from no suspects to two.

Ashcroft and Knox.

But Knox was at the top of his list.