Thanks so much for all the encouraging reviews – very much appreciated as always.

Special thanks to Alaidh who rarely makes mistakes!

Chapter 3

As Logan headed to the car, he let go a breath with some relief; there was nothing in the room to help him find Emma. He had enough Eyes Only projects that he was working on already – he didn't need Martin's vague quest on his plate as well.

He could already imagine what disparaging comments Uncle Jonas would have to say if he knew he'd even done as much as he had. Jonas didn't like people to go against his wishes – particularly Logan. Not that that would stop him from doing something he thought he had to do – it would just make life all the more unpleasant, and he had enough unpleasant things to deal with in his life as it was.

The pavement was cracked and uneven outside the apartment block. Perhaps there had been a need for Emma's sensible shoes, after all, he mused, ruefully catching himself as he saw her in his minds eye, travelling the same path he did now - he was going to drop this whole thing back in Martin's lap, right? Maybe she simply visited her grandmother, or perhaps a friend had unexpectedly fallen ill. They all lived in uncertain times.

Max was right – he couldn't right every wrong, and who knew if there even was a 'wrong' here to be righted?

Logan had just buckled his seatbelt when his cell phone rang. It was Martin.

"Can I meet with you somewhere?" Martin asked at once.

"I don't have anything ..."

"I may have some more info for you."

Logan sighed inwardly. "I'm just heading to the market. I've got some stuff to buy," he said, stretching the truth a considerable distance in the hope that Martin would be put off.

"The one near your place? Great. I'll meet you there in ten."

"Martin ..."

"Ten too soon? Make it twenty if you like."

Logan frowned, considering his options for a moment, and then finally decided that the market was as good a place as any to blow his cousin off. "Twenty then," he agreed half-heartedly.

Martin hung up abruptly at that, leaving Logan to wonder just how he was going to extricate himself from all this.

He was just about to pull into the traffic when his cell rang again.

"Hey," said a familiar voice.

Logan made a face. Max.

"Yeah. Listen, I'm in the car ... can't talk right now."

Receiving nothing but silence, he quickly added, "I gotta head to the market."

"I've got a drop to do opposite there. What about I meet you – maybe I'll treat you to one of those greasy concoctions they pretend are burgers."

Logan grimaced. Things were becoming complicated.

"I won't make it for at least another half-hour," he tried.

"That's fine. Gives me time to do my drop." He could hear the determination in her voice. "So, I'll keep an eye out for ya?"

"Great," he replied, trying to sound enthusiastic.

"Good."

The note of triumph in her voice was unmistakable, even over the phone.

As luck would have it, finding a suitable parking space proved to be almost impossible, and he was seriously contemplating being a complete coward and driving home again, wondering if it would be wiser all round, when he found one.

Glancing at his watch before pushing forward to find Martin, he saw with yet another grimace that twenty minutes had elapsed already. This was definitely not good.

The market was quite crowded. People were taking advantage of the fickle sun that had decided to deign Seattle with its presence, after the rain that had pelted down earlier.

Logan wished he'd organized a set place to meet Martin – it was hard work pushing through the crowds and he didn't fancy doing a tour of the whole site.

The ramshackle stalls, mostly wooden constructions with canvas awnings, were arranged in long lines that made it impossible to see from one row to the next. Logan glanced at his watch as he paused for a moment – but visions of Max running into Martin made him push on with renewed vigour.

Logan had almost reached the end of the second row when he heard Martin calling his name.

Greatly relieved, Logan headed to where his cousin waited at the end of one of the rows of stalls, leaning casually up against a brick wall.

It only added insult to injury that Martin had watched the world go by while he had raised quite a sweat manoeuvring his way through the crowds.

It was just as well Martin had called out, as otherwise, in all probability, he would have passed by him. His cousin looked like he'd bought his clothes at a jumble sale – torn jeans, battered bomber jacket, and a rather grubby baseball cap pulled down low over his eyes were a remarkable contrast to the business suit and glittering ring of the day before.

Martin eyed him seriously, saying without preamble, "You spoke to her roommate?"

Logan stopped and looked up at that, his eyes narrowing slightly. "What makes you say that?"

"Nothing. I was just hoping, that's all," Martin told him. "So ... did you?"

"Yeah. I saw Charlie."

Martin's face fell. "No go, huh?"

Logan considered his cousin for a moment, before saying, "Martin, are you sure she's 'missing'? You don't think maybe she left town of her own free will? Maybe she had something to get away from," he suggested blandly.

"I think you mean 'someone' don't you, Logan?"

"No-o-o-o, I mean what I said," replied Logan, unruffled.

"I think I may have a possible sighting of her."

Logan shook his head, eyeing his cousin with frustration. "Martin. This really isn't my thing. What do I know about looking for a missing person? It's not the kinda stuff I look into." Then, catching Martin scanning the crowds, he added, "You expecting someone?"

Ignoring the question, Martin said almost impatiently, "Logan, I don't have anyone else to turn to."

Logan gave him a long look.

Reaching into the gym bag he carried, Martin pulled out a large manila envelope.

"I've got an appointment to get to. Just do me this one favour and check this lead out. It's all I'll ask of you," he added persuasively.

As Logan showed no inclination to accept it, Martin gave another quick look around, saying, "I've got to go.' Before Logan had a chance to react, he'd tossed the envelope into Logan's lap, then virtually turned and ran, calling out something that sounded like, "thanks," over his shoulder.

"Martin," Logan called after him exasperatedly.

If his cousin heard, he paid no notice, and with an angry sigh, Logan watched him quickly disappear into the crowd.

Logan looked down at the envelope with tightened lips. Well, that did it. He was going to wash his hands of the whole affair. His cousin could go and cry on his Uncle's shoulder for all he cared.

He swung around, suddenly remembering that Max should be there by now.

"Would you be Logan Cale?"

Logan looked up to see a well-dressed man in his forties standing in front of him. Turning his head slightly, he felt, rather than saw, another man standing at his back.

Careful to keep the surprise and the growing apprehension he was feeling from his face, he asked evenly, "Who wants to know?"

"It's quite crowded here, why don't we move into that alleyway where we can talk ...without interruption," was the other man's reply.

Logan looked at him thoughtfully for a moment, quickly considering his options. They didn't appear to be plentiful.

"Maybe I'm happy right where I am," he tried.

"We don't want to have to be ... 'persuasive'," the other man said, holding up his hands in an apologetic gesture.

Logan nodded with a wry smile, and spun around, taking a quick look at the person behind him as he did so. Either the man's suit was too small for him or his muscles were too large for the suit

He hated to admit it, but Max's face would look real good right now, Martin or no Martin.

The sun that had been shining with such promise suddenly disappeared behind some dark clouds, and Logan, vaguely aware of the fact, could only hope this wasn't some kind of bad omen.

It made the alleyway look all the more less appealing, littered as it was with garbage from a dumpster that had reached its capacity probably weeks ago. Logan wrinkled his nose with disgust – the smell was almost overpowering.

"Do you want to tell me what this is all about?" asked Logan, feeling the first inklings of panic beginning to set in. Was it possible that someone had finally put a face to Eyes Only? Leaning back nonchalantly nonetheless, he awaited their reply, lightly resting his left hand on the inner wheel, avoiding the mud that was now clinging to the rubber tire.

"We'll take 'that' first of all." With surprise, Logan realized he was motioning to the envelope that still lay in his lap.

Before he had a chance to respond, the muscle bound man reached forward and grabbed it.

Logan took a deep breath – this was becoming very confusing.

"And then we want to point out to you that it would be less painful for everybody all around if you forget about Emma Belding."

Nodding his head in slow appreciation of what had been intimated, Logan asked, "Does that mean 'you' know where she is?"

He had to admit that the sudden movement of the Arnold Schwarzenegger type made his heart beat uncomfortably fast. He did his best not to flinch.

"George," the speaker admonished quickly, which made his huge companion stop as if he'd been turned off at the switch.

This time the suave man stepped forward, and his smooth manner was almost more intimidating than the other's brawn. "No," he replied silkily, "what that means is that you are to tell your cousin that if we see him interfering in this matter again, we'll simply kill him ... and you too of course," he added, almost as an afterthought.

"Right," Logan responded at his most diplomatic, seriously hoping that the lecture ended there.

He saw the smaller man motion to 'George', and he tensed instinctively, but to his relief, both men simply walked out of the alleyway, and were soon swallowed up in the crowd as Martin had been.

Logan rubbed the stubble on his chin thoughtfully, quietly pleased to find that his hand was still steady and it felt as though his heart had almost returned to its regular beat.

"Martin, what have you got yourself mixed up in?" he muttered, as he wheeled back through the mud and out into the market again.

"Hey."

He looked up, this time to finally find a face he was glad to see.

"You been hiding? I've been lookin' for you everywhere." One hand on her hip, the other holding her bike, her cheeks pink from the exertion of riding – she looked beautiful, but then, when did she ever not?

"Yeah, it's busy here today, isn't it?" he managed, still feeling slightly put out by the last few minutes.

"You okay?"

He could see Max looking at him closely.

"Sure. So, you hungry?"

"Need you ask?" she retorted, giving him a sideways glance.

Without another word, Logan pushed through the crowd, thankful that he had to concentrate on what he was doing and not meet that penetrating gaze of hers.

"Where are we headed?" asked Max, finally able to come up alongside him as the crowds thinned a little.

"I thought you said something about grease?"

"Oh yeah. I want some'a that big time," she grinned.

"No accounting for taste," he quipped back.

Logan stopped, and with a nod of his head, motioned to a very ordinary looking diner. It looked a little cramped inside, but there were a few rickety tables and chairs outside, and at least the sun had decided to shine once more. Not what he would have chosen, but it was the only thing around, and he felt in severe need of a caffeine fix himself after his encounter in the alley.

Max smiled her agreement "I've dropped in here before. My treat," she added, as she padlocked her bike to a nearby pole. "What d'you wanna have?"

Logan took one look through the doorway. "Just coffee."

"Coward," she murmured.

"I'll wait out here and grab a table," Logan replied, refusing to take the bait.

Max went inside and Logan moved up to one of the tables and set his brakes, making sure that he was facing the roadway – he'd had enough surprises for one day.

Scanning the crowd he could see no sign of 'George' and co.

It annoyed him intensely that he had no idea what was in that envelope. It annoyed him intensely that he was going to have to admit to Martin that it had been effortlessly taken from him, and finally, it annoyed him intensely that Martin had obviously been less than honest with him.

His cousin must have known he was being tailed – it explained his nervous behaviour earlier.

Logan picked up one of the sachets of sugar that sat in a chipped bowl on the table, idly watching as he turned it end to end and felt the granules flow from top to bottom as another unwelcome thought came to him – how did they know his name? The only people who'd known he had visited Charlie were Bling, Charlie herself, Seth, and Martin.

Max came out at that moment carrying a tray with their food, or rather, her food, and his coffee.

"There you go," she smiled, putting it in front of him.

Logan took it gratefully, desperate enough to ignore his distaste of drinking out of Styrofoam cups. It was hot, and strong, and surprisingly, a reasonable quality.

After a few gulps he could feel himself beginning to relax – it was a fatal mistake, he should have known better.

"Did I tell you I think I'm beginning to have visions?" asked Max conversationally, biting into her burger.

"Mmm?" Logan murmured, not paying a lot of attention.

"Yeah. Thought I saw your cousin Martin - again - here at the market. Just before I found you."

Now she definitely had his attention.

"Oh?" he managed to get out, quickly taking another gulp of his coffee.

"Kinda strange wouldn't you say, after I saw him outside your place last night too."

"Guess so," agreed Logan without expression.

Looking at him as she sipped her Coke, Max decided she'd had enough of the sniper fire – it was time for a full on frontal attack.

"Did you see him?" she asked with purpose this time – brown eyes boring into his green ones behind the glasses.

Max thought he was looking distinctly uncomfortable – she almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

Logan looked back out towards the crowd, his mind processing the facts with computer-like precision. Martin had lied, he had no doubt of that, but where did that leave Emma Belding? Was she the innocent pawn in all this? The stakes had unexpectedly gone up a notch once people started throwing words like 'persuasion' and 'killing' around.

Under the table, he ran his hand along the side of his thigh almost as a reminder – he knew he was out of his depth. He needed Max.

"I was meeting Martin ... here," he added, a slight hint of defiance in his voice. After all, he was free to meet with whomever he chose.

Max simply raised her eyebrows. Logan could see she was being perverse; he'd finally admitted what she wanted to hear, and now she was going to make out that she didn't care one way or the other.

"He came to see if I'd help him. His girlfriend mysteriously disappeared."

"Like 'you' need to care," she answered unsympathetically. "She probably shows remarkable good sense - I'd wanna disappear if I was his girlfriend too."

Reaching into his pocket, Logan brought out the small photo of Emma Belding that Martin had given him.

Max glanced at it briefly. "Hardly seems his type," she snorted.

Logan frowned at her.

"So now cousin Martin comes running to you," Max continued, ignoring his glare. "Kinda gives you a warm, fuzzy feeling doesn't it? How come he didn't turn to dear ole dad?" she added sharply.

"Apparently 'dear ole Jonas' didn't approve."

"Why doesn't that surprise me? Probably means the girl's 'half-way' decent," she added sceptically. "So, you fell for his bleeding heart story?"

"The girl could be in real trouble, Max," he replied earnestly.

Max rolled her eyes – she could sense a Logan Cale lecture coming on.

"It's just possible this girl has no one else who cares about her," he continued seriously.

"She has Martin."

"A helluva lot of good he is."

"You 'did' tell him to shove it, Logan!"

"Max. It wasn't that easy..."

"What's hard about 'NO'?"

"Oh yeah, like you do to your family when they need you," retorted Logan, remembering an evening of uncooked chickens and untimely interruptions.

Ignoring that one, Max said, "Just what does he expect you to do?"

"He's hoping I still have some contacts."

"Me? - 'I'm hoping he'll go away – like a BAD DREAM."

"I didn't say you had to be involved in this," Logan told her, trying to hold on to his patience with difficulty. "I kinda figured you'd take it this way - that's why you weren't in the loop."

Max looked across at him at that. "Well, we do have our quid pro quo," she reminded him a little stiffly as she drained the last remnants of her drink.

"So, you'll help me with this if I need it?" asked Logan, a little surprised at her sudden change of attitude.

"Sure," agreed Max blithely, "maybe I'll get the chance to kick his ass."

Logan grinned at that.

"Any reason why your dear cousin would be watching you now?"

Logan looked at her in sudden surprise. "What d'you mean?"

Without turning her head, Max said, "He's standing in a doorway, the opposite side of the road. I dunno," she shrugged, "maybe he's planning for the future."

There were a couple of more 'up market' shops further down the road, but Logan couldn't make out anyone standing in a doorway. Of course he didn't have X5 eyesight.

"You see the shop selling kids clothes, toys, whatever?" she asked.

Logan nodded.

"That's him."

"I need to talk to him," said Logan grimly.

"That can be arranged," said Max hopefully.

"Not here though – it's too open."

"There's a disused warehouse a few doors down. Why don't you head there, and I'll hook Martin?"

Logan looked at her a touch suspiciously, wondering just what it was she had in mind.

TBC