***
Tess kept an eye on the clock as she made another vegetarian quiche. Logan hadn’t been in all morning and she wanted to know what his reporter friend had said.
She added garlic and mixed herbs to the egg and milk she’d already mixed together. She’d half expected him to call last night, but he hadn’t.
The kitchen door opened and she jumped. She had to blink to make sure she wasn’t imagining Logan standing in front of her.
“Sorry I didn’t call. I stayed the night at Dylan’s, then went into work early.”
“How did you end up at Dylan’s house?”
“I went there after Jilly left the restaurant.”
“Does that mean it was a good or not so good dinner?”
He took a glass out of the pantry and filled it with water. “Dinner was good, but she wants to write an article about Senator Gibson.”
Tess sat on a kitchen stool and stared at him. “She can’t.”
“She can and she’s going to.”
“Does she have any evidence that he was supplying drugs to Evie?”
“She’s spoken to a few people, but she hasn’t got anything concrete.”
Tess felt like her whole world was collapsing. “Does she know about me?”
He nodded. “She knows about your modeling career, about Evie, and about the senator. She wants him to face criminal charges for what he did.”
“I want that too. But doesn’t she realize he’s dangerous? He has friends who know how to bury a story. He’ll destroy her career, then come after me.”
“I have a plan.”
Tess dropped her head into her arms. She’d had a plan, too. A plan that involved running a café in Bozeman, having a happy life. “Jilly can’t write her article without solid evidence that will stand up in court. I need to call her and tell her what happened last time.”
“She knows what happened last time. She’s going to write her story regardless of what you say.”
The timer on the oven beeped and Tess took out a tray of chicken pot pies. “What’s your plan?”
“Do you want to put the other pie in the oven?” Logan looked at the vegetarian quiche she’d been making.
As soon as he’d mentioned Jilly’s article she’d forgotten all about the quiche. She looked down at the half made mixture and poured the filling into the pastry shell. She added sliced tomatoes and Parmesan cheese to the top. There were five different vegetables in the quiche, but right at the moment she didn’t care how healthy or good it would taste. All she cared about was the article Jilly wanted to write.
While she’d been daydreaming, Logan had finished his glass of water and washed his hands.
He lifted the quiche off the counter and slid it in the oven “How long?”
“Forty minutes.” Tess watched him move around the kitchen with the ease of someone who’d been working here a long time. Except he hadn’t been working, not officially anyway. Sometimes he made breakfast for her and Annie. He’d helped make salads and put together more panini and toasted sandwich combinations than most people knew how to make.
She enjoyed his company. Most of the time. Today, she wasn’t so sure. Especially when he had a determined frown on his face. “Tell me about your plan.”
“I need to write a story about Senator Gibson before Jilly does.” Logan held his hand up when she started to interrupt. “Hear me out first. Senator Gibson’s ex-wife has all of the evidence a court needs to make a conviction.”
After everything that had happened, Tess wasn’t trusting anyone’s word on what they might or might not have. “How do you know she’s telling the truth?”
“I called her this morning and she sent me the files she copied. The senator was meticulous when it came to his finances and business transactions. The documents show the dates he bought drugs, supplier details, the works. I had the information checked by a lawyer and there’s enough evidence to send him and his suppliers away for years.”
“Does Jilly know you’ve talked to the senator’s ex-wife?”
“No, and she won’t get the chance. The story will be with my editor by one o’clock today and published tomorrow morning.”
Tess felt sick. “You can’t do it.”
“I’m focusing on Marcie Gibson’s story about her husband. He supplied other models with drugs. I won’t mention your name or Evie’s.”
“But other reporters could look into what happened and do exactly what Jilly did. They might connect the stories from three years ago and find me. What if Senator Gibson does the same thing? He doesn’t know I’m here, but if he found out I could be in trouble.”
“I’ve thought about that, too. Mom’s arriving this afternoon from Seattle. You can go to Yellowstone National Park tomorrow with her and Dylan.”
Tess didn’t move. She wouldn’t run away and do what she’d done last time. “Annie doesn’t start work until seven o’clock. I’ve got to get everything ready. After the café is sorted, I need to make the meals for Pastor Steven. I can’t take tomorrow off.”
“Dylan isn’t leaving until eight o’clock, so you could still bake in the morning. Annie will be here to help you and Kate arrives in the afternoon. They’ll be fine. I’m sure Molly or Emily would give them a hand for a few hours.”
Tess knew it would take more time than any of her friends had to help in the café. She did have two other people she could ask to work, but that was beside the point. She wasn’t running away.
“I’m not going anywhere and you can’t write a story about Senator Gibson. I can’t hide for one day and expect everything will be back to normal after that. I’ve got the rest of my life to think about.”
Logan walked across to the plastic trays Mr. Kussack had left in the café that morning. He separated the trays until the last custard and raspberry bread knots were in front of him.
Tess watched him inhale the sweet smell of the glazing. “Are you even listening to me?”
“I am, but I’m also admiring these buns.”
Tess glared at him. “You don’t normally have a sweet tooth.”
“It was a long night. Can I have one? I’ll leave the money beside the cash register.”
“You don’t need to worry about leaving any money. You do enough around here.”
Logan chose one of the buns and bit into it.
Tess waited until it was half eaten before trying to talk some sense into him. “Why aren’t you going with your mom to the park?”
Logan swallowed the mouthful of bun he was chewing. “I’ll be deflecting the calls I get from other reporters. If I encourage their interest in Marcie, it will keep them away from you. I asked Dylan if he wanted to go. He can look after you and mom better than I could. He hasn’t been to Yellowstone—you could be their tour guide.”
“I’m not going.”
Logan finished his bun and licked his fingers clean. “I’ve got a story to write. I’ll see you after work.”
“I’m not going, so don’t think you can talk me into doing what you want me to do.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he said dryly. “Talk to Annie. See what she thinks.”
“I don’t need to talk to Annie and you’re not going to write a story. Your plan won’t work.” Tess glared at his back as he walked out of her kitchen. Not only wasn’t he listening to her, he wanted her to take his mom on a sightseeing tour. And then there was Dylan. The man positively screamed danger. How anyone could go anywhere with him and not attract attention was beyond her. He probably carried a gun and knew how to use it.
She definitely wasn’t going anywhere tomorrow.