Thanks again for all the feedback!!
Special thanks to Alaidh for all her work!!
Chapter 13
Logan woke the next morning to wonder why the sun was so bright through his bedroom curtains, and why his bed wasn't quite as comfortable as usual.
Then he wondered why Max's face was poised above him, smiling at him and looking very bright and awake.
Instinctively he put a hand to his face, and then squinted again to see if she was still there.
She was.
Looking about he realized he wasn't in his own bed, he was lying on the couch in his living room.
"Max," he said, his voice still thick with sleep.
She came around to him. "You need more sleep by the looks of it. You've only been asleep about three hours."
The events of the previous day came flooding back with a rush.
"Melody," he said suddenly, pulling himself up to a sitting position.
"She's in the guest room, still asleep. Like you should be," she added.
Logan shook his head. "I' got too much to do."
He took his glasses from the table, not having remembered taking them off, and put them on. "I don't suppose there's coffee or tea brewing is there?"
"I think I can manage that," smiled Max, then yelling to him from the kitchen, she said, "Logan, you got any eggs?"
Logan thought foggily, while he transferred to his wheelchair. "None there on the counter?" he asked her.
"Nope," her voice came back.
Logan headed towards his computer to boot it up. He could see Max rummaging in the kitchen, and checked to see if he could see any sign of coffee coming.
"The kettle boiled?" he hinted.
"What about in the fridge?" came Max's voice.
"I don't keep the kettle in the fridge," he frowned back, not really paying a lot of attention to what she was on about.
"The eggs!" she repeated.
Logan looked up from his screen. "What do I need eggs for again?" he called to her, wondering if he'd missed some important part of the conversation.
A sudden thought came to him. "This doesn't have anything to do with that chicken does it?" he asked warily.
Max came through and looked at him suspiciously. "We 'ate' the chicken last night," she reminded him.
"Right," he agreed gratefully, then tried again, "Any sign of coffee?"
"And I need some cheese, because otherwise it just doesn't taste right. You use cheese don't you?"
Logan scratched his head. Maybe Max was right. Perhaps this was what sleep deprivation was all about.
"I know I shouldn't ask, but what do I need cheese for?" he said resignedly.
Max popped her head around the corner. "To go with the omelette."
Logan looked up at her for a moment, then nodded. "Right," he said in the voice of one who knew 'exactly' what was going on.
After a pause he said hesitantly, "Do I know about the omelette?" - now more desperate than ever for the coffee.
Max looked at him in surprise. "The one I wanted for breakfast," she answered him, as if everyone in the world would have known.
"Oh, that one," Logan answered knowingly, thankful the whole thing was cleared up.
"So, you want a coffee?" she asked brightly.
Logan just looked at her. "No," he said wisely, "I think I'll have a shower."
*****************************************
Feeling in a much better frame of mind to face Max after his shower, Logan headed to the kitchen to make his own coffee and toast.
Max came into the kitchen from the front door, just as he put his plate of toast on his knees to take through to the table.
"Where've you been?" he asked her, surprised.
"Been for a walk. I needed to stretch my legs a little."
"You want some?" he asked her, indicating his toast.
"I ate already," Max replied, picking up his coffee for him and following him to the large dining table.
"You got a pen?" she asked, feeling lazy and looking around in the hope of finding one close by.
"At my desk," Logan replied.
Picking up a pen that lay on the desk, she then sat down opposite him at the table.
"Look at this!" she said, waving an advertising flyer in his direction.
"And?" he remarked, not particularly impressed.
"They're having a special day at the market, big sales on everything. Seein' as how your cupboard's remarkably like Mother Hubbard's, and a girl's gotta eat, I thought I'd write me a list."
"I had no idea you were so domesticated."
Ignoring the remark, pen poised, she asked, "Well?"
"I guess you're gonna tell me I need eggs."
"And cheese," she added. "Anything else?" she asked him, idly twirling the pen around in her hands.
"I'll hafta look," he said, unlocking his brakes and spinning around to head back to the cupboard.
"Logan!"
The note in Max's voice made him stop, and turn quickly towards her. "What is it?" he asked quickly.
Max held the pen up for him to see. It was the one they had been given at the logging camp.
"Read the names," she told him, passing him the pen.
"Carmichael, MacFarland and Davis." He looked enquiringly at her.
"I didn't get a chance to tell you last night, but at the housewarming, I heard dear Uncle Jonas talking to a man called "Mac' who was very interested in his 'favourite' nephew."
Logan looked surprised.
"He told Jonas that your name had 'come across his desk' this week."
With a thoughtful expression, Logan wheeled to his computer.
"I remember Mac. He's been a friend of Jonas's for years, but I'm not sure I ever heard his full name."
Max came over to stand close by, watching intently as the information popped up on the screen.
"Carmichael Logging, Board of Directors, John Carmichael, Stuart MacFarland, Frank Davis. Now," he murmured, "Let's see if we can get a picture up of MacFarland."
"That's him," said Max tensely, a few seconds later as a picture of a man in his fifties appeared on the screen. "A few years younger, but definitely him."
Logan considered the picture on the screen thoughtfully.
"What do you think it means, Logan?" asked Max.
Running a hand over the ever-present stubble on his chin, he shook his head slightly. "I'm not really sure. I guess my name was given to him when we visited up there. I think Stuart MacFarland definitely needs some further investigating."
"Good morning," said an uncertain voice from the doorway.
"Melody. You sleep well?" asked Logan.
"I had a few wild dreams," she admitted, tucking her hair behind her ears. The track pants and sweatshirt of Max's she wore made her look younger, and vulnerable, a far cry from the impeccably groomed news reporter.
"Can I get you some breakfast?" Logan asked.
"Just some coffee," she replied, "but I can do it."
Max, who had been standing next to Logan, said, "I'm on it," and headed to the kitchen.
Logan swivelled his chair around to look at Melody. "We've gotta figure out what to do with you."
"Don't you have some 'bat-spray' or something to make me forget your secret identity?" she suggested.
Logan shook his head slightly, "No, we put it in the coffee nowadays."
She smiled at that.
Max came back with her coffee at that point, and Logan motioned for her to sit in the living area of the spacious apartment.
"Actually, I was thinking more about whoever it is that wants you ... dead," he finished after a slight pause, stopping in front of her where she sat on the couch.
He thought he saw her stiffen at his words, and she cupped her hands tightly around the mug.
"I've been such a fool, Logan," she said remorsefully, "but then I think I already told you that."
Logan looked at her steadily. "It would help if we had something to go on."
Unexpectedly Melody said, "I take it Val doesn't know about ... all that stuff," she finished vaguely, waving a hand towards his computers.
He sat a little straighter in his chair as she spoke, and Max could see he looked uneasy.
"I think it would be better, and definitely safer for both of us, if we don't talk about all that," he remarked.
"Fine," she replied easily, "I was just wondering how many are in your confidence."
"The less you know, the better," put in Max, bluntly.
"She's right," added Logan, with an apologetic smile. "There's too much at stake, not just me."
"No one's interested in the little people," she said dismissively. "It's 'you' they want to see," she said musingly. "I can see the angle," she said, looking at him briefly as she saw her news report, and accompanying nation-wide adulation, in her mind. "Pity," she shrugged, "It would have made a great story. Not," she added quickly, seeing Max's expression, "that I have any intention of running it."
Taking a sip, she studied Logan over the rim of her coffee. "Although I must say, I lay awake for a long time this morning, wondering what made you do Eyes Only - what 'still' makes you do it," she added.
Logan narrowed his eyes slightly as he looked at her, but said nothing, simply drumming his fingers lightly on the metal rim of his chair.
"But then I never understood you, Logan," she admitted, with a silvery laugh.
"None of this helps us in working out who tried to kill you," said Logan, a slight edge to his voice.
"We just may not be there to help you next time," warned Max coldly.
Their words seemed to bring her back to the unpleasantness of her predicament.
"I don't know what to do, Logan," she said suddenly, her blue eyes wide like a scared cat.
"Maybe if you give me your bank account details, I can try and trace where the deposit originated from. Unless you think I'll skip the country with all your wealth."
"Don't joke about it, Logan," Melody replied, without humour.
"Well, until we can find out more about all this, you'll need to stay here."
"What about work?"
"Looks like you just came down with the flu," commiserated Max.
"I'll need to phone them," she stated.
"Do you still have your cell phone?" Logan asked, remembering they'd thrown most of her things away.
"Yeah, I took it out of my coat pocket without thinking," she replied.
Max looked at her closely for the moment.
"Don't use it then, it could be traced. Use mine, just give me a sec to scramble the signal so it's not traceable," advised Logan
Melody nodded. "I'd better do that now, then take a shower if that's all right with you."
"It's fine," okayed Logan.
**************************************
Max had been worried about her bike left at the warehouse, so when Bling arrived in the morning, Logan arranged with him to drive Max back to the warehouse in Logan's car, so that she could retrieve it.
Logan spent the morning attempting to trace the origin of the money transferred to Melody's account, as payment for her Eyes Only report.
Coming up with a dead end on that, he looked into Stuart MacFarland and his connection to Carmichael Logging.
"Stuart MacFarland," Logan read to Max when she got back, "Wife Monique, deceased, July 4, 2017, two sons, Byron and Phillip."
Scrolling down a little further he went on, "President of the 'Seattle Businessmen's League,' owner/director of Carmichael Logging."
"That's it?" asked Max.
"I think the 'Seattle Businessmen's League' warrants some investigation. Sounds like a good front for."
Just then the phone rang, and he leaned forward to pick it up.
Max turned away from the screen, suddenly stopping to listen intently.
She couldn't be entirely sure, but she thought she'd heard something.
Noiselessly, she walked around to the guestroom, and stood just before the open door, listening closely.
There was no sound.
Walking forward, she put her head around the corner to look in at Melody Banks who was lying on the bed, apparently engrossed in a book.
"You got your phone there?" Max asked her.
Melody looked at her, surprised.
"Well?" pressed Max, uncompromisingly.
Melody reached over and took the small phone out of the bedside table drawer.
"I'll just hang onto this for you," she told the reporter. "I wouldn't want you ta get tempted and use it," she explained.
The blonde girl nodded as Max walked off, her expression replaced by one of surprise when Max put her head around the corner once more.
"Just thought I should let ya know," said Max in a friendly voice, "If anything should happen to Logan because of your involvement in all this, I'm gonna be comin' after your peroxided, manicured, ass, and you'll never do another news report again."
On that note, she smiled, and left the room, leaving Melody to stare thoughtfully at the wall.
Logan looked up when she came back into his study.
"You still wanna buy some eggs?" he asked her.
Max nodded, watching Logan as he grabbed his jacket from the back of the couch where it had been left by Max after Melody had taken it off.
"You wanna leave all this an' go shopping?" Max asked, indicating his bank of computers.
"Well, you did say there was a sale."
"Logan Cale hunting for a bargain, now this I gotta see!"
Logan gave her the look he especially reserved for Max when she made one of those comments.
"Actually, I just got a call from one of the stall holders at the market who's on the informant net. He tells me there's been something big goin' on down there the last coupla days. Eyes Only has been watching the area for some weeks now. Looks like some heavy drug dealers have moved into the area. He's got some photos to give to me."
Picking up his car keys he said, "I hope all the drug dealers from South Market haven't moved on to this one. So, you wanna come?"
"Sure, I'll tag along," Max replied. "What about Melody?"
"I guess she'll hafta wait here with Bling. It's too risky for her to leave here yet."
"I hardly think she's gonna want to stay here forever," Max remarked.
"I'd better go talk to her," Logan said.
**********************************************
Finding a parking space turned out to be quite a difficult feat, as it looked like thousands had been attracted by the same flyer Max had read.
Sales were few and far between in post pulse Seattle, and it appeared as if even the hint of one could bring people flocking to it.
The market they were going to was a mostly open affair, having grown gradually in the base of what was meant to have been an apartment building that had had the foundations poured, and then abandoned because the money for the project had run out.
Here and there, huge steel girders protruded from the concrete, to support other floors that were never built.
Finally, after driving around for some time, Logan finally found a space.
This market served a more affluent area than the run down South Market, and it showed by the quality of the goods sold.
Max walked beside Logan, enjoying the holiday atmosphere. Coloured flags had been strung between the rows of stallholders, clowns and other street entertainers wandered amongst the shoppers, and it appeared as if most stalls had a genuine bargain to offer.
Even though it was slow pushing his way through the crowds, Logan couldn't help smiling every time he saw Max's face light up over some item that was an 'absolute steal', which made him grin when she said it, considering her occupation when he'd first met her.
One of the first things they found were eggs, which Max swooped on and insisted paying for on the grounds that she wanted the omelette.
"Here, you hold them," she said, carefully giving them to Logan as they were packed post-pulse style in a flimsy cardboard packaging.
Soon they both carried a number of bags, and had managed to only argue once, that being the important issue of whether fudge brownies tasted better with or without walnuts.
With a quick look at his watch, Logan said, "We'd better meet Louis now. I said two o'clock."
Heading down towards the back of the market, they found his fruit and vegetable stall without any problem.
Max hung back a little while Logan spoke to the informant, all the while pretending he was only there to buy produce.
Max checked out the area for anyone suspicious, but for the most part they were surrounded by families out enjoying the relatively fine afternoon, and the opportunity to buy their children a treat they normally couldn't afford.
Max couldn't help smiling as she watched one little girl of about two and a half hum and hah over what colour lollipop she should choose, her blue eyes intently regarding the array of the brightly coloured candy as her sister, who looked to be about eight, held her up so that she was at eye level with them.
"Hurry up, Bridget!" the older girl urged her, "My arms are breakin'."
Turning around to check out the other direction, Max was suddenly jostled by a man wearing a thick snow parka, the hood so large it almost completely hid his face; he had it pulled so far forward.
Stopping suddenly as he collided with her, the hood fell back the smallest amount to reveal his face. He looked to be a handsome man of about twenty- five.
"Sorry," she smiled at him, but he said nothing, barely giving her a glance, and went on his way.
Walking back to Logan, she heard him finish his transaction. "These will be greatly appreciated," he told Louis, holding up the bag of apples that had the surveillance photos hidden inside.
"Well, there are a few too many 'bad' apples around here," he said to Logan meaningfully.
Logan nodded, and had just put the apples on his lap, when the man two stalls down suddenly began yelling, "Bomb, bomb, there's a bomb."
Immediately pandemonium reigned, people screaming and running towards the exits, pushing at those who as yet hadn't heard the man's cries and were still peaceably enjoying the afternoon.
Max and Logan looked at each other in horror. It was too easy to imagine the carnage from an explosion in such a busy area.
The man was still running aimlessly around, yelling out his dire prediction.
Max ran up to him and tried to talk to him but all she could get out of him was, "Bomb, bomb."
In the end she smacked him over the head to get some sense out of him. "A man gave me this," he said in a terrified voice, and then, as if he'd broken out of his almost frozen panicked state, he ran off.
The note Max had in her hands read, "Bomb. 10 minutes."
She showed it to Logan who'd wheeled up to her. "Do you think it's a hoax?" she asked anxiously.
"You wanna stand around here to find out?" he countered, taking out his cell phone and calling Matt Sung.
Louis, the greengrocer stood by, nervously wringing his hands.
"Have you heard anything about a bomb before?" Logan asked him, after getting off the phone with Matt.
"No, nothing," he bleated, obviously unnerved by the situation.
With a feeling of horror, Max thought of all the families they'd seen at the market. She thought of the little girl choosing her lollipop.
"We've got to assume this is for real," Logan told her tersely, then added, "Matt's on his way."
"Logan, we don't even know how big this bomb is," said Max, looking around intently, almost hoping there'd be a big sign saying 'Here it is.'
The area immediately around them was slowly becoming deserted as the rumour took hold and Max was relieved to see the little girl and her sister had gone, but the pathways between the stalls were now choked with people as everyone tried to converge on the exits.
She turned to Louis who looked like he wanted to be anywhere but there.
"Louis, take Logan and get him outta here," she said to the informant, dumping the bags she carried in Logan's lap.
Logan grabbed Max by the hand as she was about to run off. "Where d'you think you're going?" he snapped.
"I got about seven minutes. I gotta try to find it, Logan." Then turning to Louis she yelled fiercely, "Don't you leave him."
Without looking back, she started ransacking every stall in the area. Her brain told her it was futile, but the thought of the little girl and her lollipop kept her going.
Why had the warning message been delivered to that corner of the market? There had to be a reason for that.
Somewhere in the distance she could hear the wailing of police sirens, gradually coming closer.
And all the while, the time kept ticking away.
'Oh God,' she suddenly thought, 'what if the note was wrong? What if it was only five minutes to detonation? Would Logan get away in time? Would Louis stay with him?'
Desperately she pored over any possible hiding place, but stall after stall, she found nothing, and as she looked, other thoughts came to her, what would she do if she found it? Would she have time to de-activate it?
Two stalls to go and the time had ticked by to fifty seconds remaining, forty, thirty.
"Go!!" her mind screamed at her.
Turning and running with her extraordinary speed, she tore up the now deserted path they'd come along. Unexpectedly she felt herself lifted bodily into the air as the force from the blast hit her like a gigantic wave. She felt herself somersaulting through the air, then she hit the ground with a force that took the air out of her lungs.
She opened her eyes to look into a pair of blue eyes, framed by golden curls, one chubby hand tightly clutching her lollipop, looking at her in amazement as she had dropped out of the sky.
"Mommy, Mommy, she can fly!!"
TBC
Special thanks to Alaidh for all her work!!
Chapter 13
Logan woke the next morning to wonder why the sun was so bright through his bedroom curtains, and why his bed wasn't quite as comfortable as usual.
Then he wondered why Max's face was poised above him, smiling at him and looking very bright and awake.
Instinctively he put a hand to his face, and then squinted again to see if she was still there.
She was.
Looking about he realized he wasn't in his own bed, he was lying on the couch in his living room.
"Max," he said, his voice still thick with sleep.
She came around to him. "You need more sleep by the looks of it. You've only been asleep about three hours."
The events of the previous day came flooding back with a rush.
"Melody," he said suddenly, pulling himself up to a sitting position.
"She's in the guest room, still asleep. Like you should be," she added.
Logan shook his head. "I' got too much to do."
He took his glasses from the table, not having remembered taking them off, and put them on. "I don't suppose there's coffee or tea brewing is there?"
"I think I can manage that," smiled Max, then yelling to him from the kitchen, she said, "Logan, you got any eggs?"
Logan thought foggily, while he transferred to his wheelchair. "None there on the counter?" he asked her.
"Nope," her voice came back.
Logan headed towards his computer to boot it up. He could see Max rummaging in the kitchen, and checked to see if he could see any sign of coffee coming.
"The kettle boiled?" he hinted.
"What about in the fridge?" came Max's voice.
"I don't keep the kettle in the fridge," he frowned back, not really paying a lot of attention to what she was on about.
"The eggs!" she repeated.
Logan looked up from his screen. "What do I need eggs for again?" he called to her, wondering if he'd missed some important part of the conversation.
A sudden thought came to him. "This doesn't have anything to do with that chicken does it?" he asked warily.
Max came through and looked at him suspiciously. "We 'ate' the chicken last night," she reminded him.
"Right," he agreed gratefully, then tried again, "Any sign of coffee?"
"And I need some cheese, because otherwise it just doesn't taste right. You use cheese don't you?"
Logan scratched his head. Maybe Max was right. Perhaps this was what sleep deprivation was all about.
"I know I shouldn't ask, but what do I need cheese for?" he said resignedly.
Max popped her head around the corner. "To go with the omelette."
Logan looked up at her for a moment, then nodded. "Right," he said in the voice of one who knew 'exactly' what was going on.
After a pause he said hesitantly, "Do I know about the omelette?" - now more desperate than ever for the coffee.
Max looked at him in surprise. "The one I wanted for breakfast," she answered him, as if everyone in the world would have known.
"Oh, that one," Logan answered knowingly, thankful the whole thing was cleared up.
"So, you want a coffee?" she asked brightly.
Logan just looked at her. "No," he said wisely, "I think I'll have a shower."
*****************************************
Feeling in a much better frame of mind to face Max after his shower, Logan headed to the kitchen to make his own coffee and toast.
Max came into the kitchen from the front door, just as he put his plate of toast on his knees to take through to the table.
"Where've you been?" he asked her, surprised.
"Been for a walk. I needed to stretch my legs a little."
"You want some?" he asked her, indicating his toast.
"I ate already," Max replied, picking up his coffee for him and following him to the large dining table.
"You got a pen?" she asked, feeling lazy and looking around in the hope of finding one close by.
"At my desk," Logan replied.
Picking up a pen that lay on the desk, she then sat down opposite him at the table.
"Look at this!" she said, waving an advertising flyer in his direction.
"And?" he remarked, not particularly impressed.
"They're having a special day at the market, big sales on everything. Seein' as how your cupboard's remarkably like Mother Hubbard's, and a girl's gotta eat, I thought I'd write me a list."
"I had no idea you were so domesticated."
Ignoring the remark, pen poised, she asked, "Well?"
"I guess you're gonna tell me I need eggs."
"And cheese," she added. "Anything else?" she asked him, idly twirling the pen around in her hands.
"I'll hafta look," he said, unlocking his brakes and spinning around to head back to the cupboard.
"Logan!"
The note in Max's voice made him stop, and turn quickly towards her. "What is it?" he asked quickly.
Max held the pen up for him to see. It was the one they had been given at the logging camp.
"Read the names," she told him, passing him the pen.
"Carmichael, MacFarland and Davis." He looked enquiringly at her.
"I didn't get a chance to tell you last night, but at the housewarming, I heard dear Uncle Jonas talking to a man called "Mac' who was very interested in his 'favourite' nephew."
Logan looked surprised.
"He told Jonas that your name had 'come across his desk' this week."
With a thoughtful expression, Logan wheeled to his computer.
"I remember Mac. He's been a friend of Jonas's for years, but I'm not sure I ever heard his full name."
Max came over to stand close by, watching intently as the information popped up on the screen.
"Carmichael Logging, Board of Directors, John Carmichael, Stuart MacFarland, Frank Davis. Now," he murmured, "Let's see if we can get a picture up of MacFarland."
"That's him," said Max tensely, a few seconds later as a picture of a man in his fifties appeared on the screen. "A few years younger, but definitely him."
Logan considered the picture on the screen thoughtfully.
"What do you think it means, Logan?" asked Max.
Running a hand over the ever-present stubble on his chin, he shook his head slightly. "I'm not really sure. I guess my name was given to him when we visited up there. I think Stuart MacFarland definitely needs some further investigating."
"Good morning," said an uncertain voice from the doorway.
"Melody. You sleep well?" asked Logan.
"I had a few wild dreams," she admitted, tucking her hair behind her ears. The track pants and sweatshirt of Max's she wore made her look younger, and vulnerable, a far cry from the impeccably groomed news reporter.
"Can I get you some breakfast?" Logan asked.
"Just some coffee," she replied, "but I can do it."
Max, who had been standing next to Logan, said, "I'm on it," and headed to the kitchen.
Logan swivelled his chair around to look at Melody. "We've gotta figure out what to do with you."
"Don't you have some 'bat-spray' or something to make me forget your secret identity?" she suggested.
Logan shook his head slightly, "No, we put it in the coffee nowadays."
She smiled at that.
Max came back with her coffee at that point, and Logan motioned for her to sit in the living area of the spacious apartment.
"Actually, I was thinking more about whoever it is that wants you ... dead," he finished after a slight pause, stopping in front of her where she sat on the couch.
He thought he saw her stiffen at his words, and she cupped her hands tightly around the mug.
"I've been such a fool, Logan," she said remorsefully, "but then I think I already told you that."
Logan looked at her steadily. "It would help if we had something to go on."
Unexpectedly Melody said, "I take it Val doesn't know about ... all that stuff," she finished vaguely, waving a hand towards his computers.
He sat a little straighter in his chair as she spoke, and Max could see he looked uneasy.
"I think it would be better, and definitely safer for both of us, if we don't talk about all that," he remarked.
"Fine," she replied easily, "I was just wondering how many are in your confidence."
"The less you know, the better," put in Max, bluntly.
"She's right," added Logan, with an apologetic smile. "There's too much at stake, not just me."
"No one's interested in the little people," she said dismissively. "It's 'you' they want to see," she said musingly. "I can see the angle," she said, looking at him briefly as she saw her news report, and accompanying nation-wide adulation, in her mind. "Pity," she shrugged, "It would have made a great story. Not," she added quickly, seeing Max's expression, "that I have any intention of running it."
Taking a sip, she studied Logan over the rim of her coffee. "Although I must say, I lay awake for a long time this morning, wondering what made you do Eyes Only - what 'still' makes you do it," she added.
Logan narrowed his eyes slightly as he looked at her, but said nothing, simply drumming his fingers lightly on the metal rim of his chair.
"But then I never understood you, Logan," she admitted, with a silvery laugh.
"None of this helps us in working out who tried to kill you," said Logan, a slight edge to his voice.
"We just may not be there to help you next time," warned Max coldly.
Their words seemed to bring her back to the unpleasantness of her predicament.
"I don't know what to do, Logan," she said suddenly, her blue eyes wide like a scared cat.
"Maybe if you give me your bank account details, I can try and trace where the deposit originated from. Unless you think I'll skip the country with all your wealth."
"Don't joke about it, Logan," Melody replied, without humour.
"Well, until we can find out more about all this, you'll need to stay here."
"What about work?"
"Looks like you just came down with the flu," commiserated Max.
"I'll need to phone them," she stated.
"Do you still have your cell phone?" Logan asked, remembering they'd thrown most of her things away.
"Yeah, I took it out of my coat pocket without thinking," she replied.
Max looked at her closely for the moment.
"Don't use it then, it could be traced. Use mine, just give me a sec to scramble the signal so it's not traceable," advised Logan
Melody nodded. "I'd better do that now, then take a shower if that's all right with you."
"It's fine," okayed Logan.
**************************************
Max had been worried about her bike left at the warehouse, so when Bling arrived in the morning, Logan arranged with him to drive Max back to the warehouse in Logan's car, so that she could retrieve it.
Logan spent the morning attempting to trace the origin of the money transferred to Melody's account, as payment for her Eyes Only report.
Coming up with a dead end on that, he looked into Stuart MacFarland and his connection to Carmichael Logging.
"Stuart MacFarland," Logan read to Max when she got back, "Wife Monique, deceased, July 4, 2017, two sons, Byron and Phillip."
Scrolling down a little further he went on, "President of the 'Seattle Businessmen's League,' owner/director of Carmichael Logging."
"That's it?" asked Max.
"I think the 'Seattle Businessmen's League' warrants some investigation. Sounds like a good front for."
Just then the phone rang, and he leaned forward to pick it up.
Max turned away from the screen, suddenly stopping to listen intently.
She couldn't be entirely sure, but she thought she'd heard something.
Noiselessly, she walked around to the guestroom, and stood just before the open door, listening closely.
There was no sound.
Walking forward, she put her head around the corner to look in at Melody Banks who was lying on the bed, apparently engrossed in a book.
"You got your phone there?" Max asked her.
Melody looked at her, surprised.
"Well?" pressed Max, uncompromisingly.
Melody reached over and took the small phone out of the bedside table drawer.
"I'll just hang onto this for you," she told the reporter. "I wouldn't want you ta get tempted and use it," she explained.
The blonde girl nodded as Max walked off, her expression replaced by one of surprise when Max put her head around the corner once more.
"Just thought I should let ya know," said Max in a friendly voice, "If anything should happen to Logan because of your involvement in all this, I'm gonna be comin' after your peroxided, manicured, ass, and you'll never do another news report again."
On that note, she smiled, and left the room, leaving Melody to stare thoughtfully at the wall.
Logan looked up when she came back into his study.
"You still wanna buy some eggs?" he asked her.
Max nodded, watching Logan as he grabbed his jacket from the back of the couch where it had been left by Max after Melody had taken it off.
"You wanna leave all this an' go shopping?" Max asked, indicating his bank of computers.
"Well, you did say there was a sale."
"Logan Cale hunting for a bargain, now this I gotta see!"
Logan gave her the look he especially reserved for Max when she made one of those comments.
"Actually, I just got a call from one of the stall holders at the market who's on the informant net. He tells me there's been something big goin' on down there the last coupla days. Eyes Only has been watching the area for some weeks now. Looks like some heavy drug dealers have moved into the area. He's got some photos to give to me."
Picking up his car keys he said, "I hope all the drug dealers from South Market haven't moved on to this one. So, you wanna come?"
"Sure, I'll tag along," Max replied. "What about Melody?"
"I guess she'll hafta wait here with Bling. It's too risky for her to leave here yet."
"I hardly think she's gonna want to stay here forever," Max remarked.
"I'd better go talk to her," Logan said.
**********************************************
Finding a parking space turned out to be quite a difficult feat, as it looked like thousands had been attracted by the same flyer Max had read.
Sales were few and far between in post pulse Seattle, and it appeared as if even the hint of one could bring people flocking to it.
The market they were going to was a mostly open affair, having grown gradually in the base of what was meant to have been an apartment building that had had the foundations poured, and then abandoned because the money for the project had run out.
Here and there, huge steel girders protruded from the concrete, to support other floors that were never built.
Finally, after driving around for some time, Logan finally found a space.
This market served a more affluent area than the run down South Market, and it showed by the quality of the goods sold.
Max walked beside Logan, enjoying the holiday atmosphere. Coloured flags had been strung between the rows of stallholders, clowns and other street entertainers wandered amongst the shoppers, and it appeared as if most stalls had a genuine bargain to offer.
Even though it was slow pushing his way through the crowds, Logan couldn't help smiling every time he saw Max's face light up over some item that was an 'absolute steal', which made him grin when she said it, considering her occupation when he'd first met her.
One of the first things they found were eggs, which Max swooped on and insisted paying for on the grounds that she wanted the omelette.
"Here, you hold them," she said, carefully giving them to Logan as they were packed post-pulse style in a flimsy cardboard packaging.
Soon they both carried a number of bags, and had managed to only argue once, that being the important issue of whether fudge brownies tasted better with or without walnuts.
With a quick look at his watch, Logan said, "We'd better meet Louis now. I said two o'clock."
Heading down towards the back of the market, they found his fruit and vegetable stall without any problem.
Max hung back a little while Logan spoke to the informant, all the while pretending he was only there to buy produce.
Max checked out the area for anyone suspicious, but for the most part they were surrounded by families out enjoying the relatively fine afternoon, and the opportunity to buy their children a treat they normally couldn't afford.
Max couldn't help smiling as she watched one little girl of about two and a half hum and hah over what colour lollipop she should choose, her blue eyes intently regarding the array of the brightly coloured candy as her sister, who looked to be about eight, held her up so that she was at eye level with them.
"Hurry up, Bridget!" the older girl urged her, "My arms are breakin'."
Turning around to check out the other direction, Max was suddenly jostled by a man wearing a thick snow parka, the hood so large it almost completely hid his face; he had it pulled so far forward.
Stopping suddenly as he collided with her, the hood fell back the smallest amount to reveal his face. He looked to be a handsome man of about twenty- five.
"Sorry," she smiled at him, but he said nothing, barely giving her a glance, and went on his way.
Walking back to Logan, she heard him finish his transaction. "These will be greatly appreciated," he told Louis, holding up the bag of apples that had the surveillance photos hidden inside.
"Well, there are a few too many 'bad' apples around here," he said to Logan meaningfully.
Logan nodded, and had just put the apples on his lap, when the man two stalls down suddenly began yelling, "Bomb, bomb, there's a bomb."
Immediately pandemonium reigned, people screaming and running towards the exits, pushing at those who as yet hadn't heard the man's cries and were still peaceably enjoying the afternoon.
Max and Logan looked at each other in horror. It was too easy to imagine the carnage from an explosion in such a busy area.
The man was still running aimlessly around, yelling out his dire prediction.
Max ran up to him and tried to talk to him but all she could get out of him was, "Bomb, bomb."
In the end she smacked him over the head to get some sense out of him. "A man gave me this," he said in a terrified voice, and then, as if he'd broken out of his almost frozen panicked state, he ran off.
The note Max had in her hands read, "Bomb. 10 minutes."
She showed it to Logan who'd wheeled up to her. "Do you think it's a hoax?" she asked anxiously.
"You wanna stand around here to find out?" he countered, taking out his cell phone and calling Matt Sung.
Louis, the greengrocer stood by, nervously wringing his hands.
"Have you heard anything about a bomb before?" Logan asked him, after getting off the phone with Matt.
"No, nothing," he bleated, obviously unnerved by the situation.
With a feeling of horror, Max thought of all the families they'd seen at the market. She thought of the little girl choosing her lollipop.
"We've got to assume this is for real," Logan told her tersely, then added, "Matt's on his way."
"Logan, we don't even know how big this bomb is," said Max, looking around intently, almost hoping there'd be a big sign saying 'Here it is.'
The area immediately around them was slowly becoming deserted as the rumour took hold and Max was relieved to see the little girl and her sister had gone, but the pathways between the stalls were now choked with people as everyone tried to converge on the exits.
She turned to Louis who looked like he wanted to be anywhere but there.
"Louis, take Logan and get him outta here," she said to the informant, dumping the bags she carried in Logan's lap.
Logan grabbed Max by the hand as she was about to run off. "Where d'you think you're going?" he snapped.
"I got about seven minutes. I gotta try to find it, Logan." Then turning to Louis she yelled fiercely, "Don't you leave him."
Without looking back, she started ransacking every stall in the area. Her brain told her it was futile, but the thought of the little girl and her lollipop kept her going.
Why had the warning message been delivered to that corner of the market? There had to be a reason for that.
Somewhere in the distance she could hear the wailing of police sirens, gradually coming closer.
And all the while, the time kept ticking away.
'Oh God,' she suddenly thought, 'what if the note was wrong? What if it was only five minutes to detonation? Would Logan get away in time? Would Louis stay with him?'
Desperately she pored over any possible hiding place, but stall after stall, she found nothing, and as she looked, other thoughts came to her, what would she do if she found it? Would she have time to de-activate it?
Two stalls to go and the time had ticked by to fifty seconds remaining, forty, thirty.
"Go!!" her mind screamed at her.
Turning and running with her extraordinary speed, she tore up the now deserted path they'd come along. Unexpectedly she felt herself lifted bodily into the air as the force from the blast hit her like a gigantic wave. She felt herself somersaulting through the air, then she hit the ground with a force that took the air out of her lungs.
She opened her eyes to look into a pair of blue eyes, framed by golden curls, one chubby hand tightly clutching her lollipop, looking at her in amazement as she had dropped out of the sky.
"Mommy, Mommy, she can fly!!"
TBC