Once again, many thanks to all those kind enough to review!
Thank you, as always, to Alaidh, for the beta!
Chapter 5
"So, you managed to get rid of him?" Max asked, coming around the corner to find Logan ensconced in front of his computer.
He leaned back and gave her a lazy smile.
"Three's a crowd," he quipped, waving a hand towards the dining table, which Max now noticed was set for dinner, complete with candles and red wine.
"Wow, what's the occasion?"
Unlocking his brakes and pushing back from the desk with his hands, he bit his lip before looking up at her.
"I know Martin's done nothing to endear himself to you. I guess I wanted to say thanks ... you know ... for helping me out on this thing."
Logan looked up at her a little tensely, waiting on her reaction.
Surprised, and more than a little touched by his thoughtfulness, Max shrugged it off with a, "No big dealio."
Logan appeared satisfied with that, and headed to the table, holding up the wine with a questioning expression.
Max nodded, continuing with her previous thought, "Besides, you're right – maybe someone out there does need our help ... and he does have a nice ass."
Logan paused in the act of pouring her wine.
"For kicking," she finished smoothly.
D/A D/A D/A D/A D/A
Washing down her last bite with a gulp of wine, Max looked across at Logan. "Did you find out any more about Martin's dead P.I.?"
"That would be Bryan Burke, of Burke's Detective Agency."
"Sounds impressive," commented Max.
"Yeah, well, the guy showed up impressively dead. Five bullets, at least one of them through the heart, have a way of doing that," said Logan, draining his glass, then looking thoughtfully at the last few drops to be found in it.
"Someone wanted to make sure he didn't rise and shine," grimaced Max. "I wonder what was in that envelope?"
"You heard what Martin said."
"Like I'd trust what he said. You got an address on this guy?"
When Logan didn't answer, but checked his watch instead, she said lightly, "You got some other hot date lined up?"
"Ahhh, not quite," he corrected her. "I've got a meet with Matt Sung at ten. I had Bling get some copies of Emma's photo – I'm gonna give one to Matt. He said he'd run a check through missing persons ... see if he could come up with something. I want to get one to my contact at the morgue as well. Beverly said she'd keep an eye out – just in case," he finished grimly.
"You want some company?"
"Sure. I've heard it's a lonely life on the road," he added, starting to collect up the dishes.
"Maybe we could check out Burke's Detective Agency?"
"The thought had crossed my mind," he admitted with a sly grin, putting a stack of dirty dishes on his lap. "You prepared for something like that?"
"We transgenic cat burglars are always prepared."
D/A D/A D/A D/A D/A
"I'll see what I can do, Logan, but I've got to say, this girl's just one of the many, I'm afraid."
Matt stood by Logan's car door, glancing down at the photo in his hand. "How come Eyes Only is interested in her?" he asked through the open driver's door window.
Logan shrugged, thinking it was better to feign ignorance. He didn't want to bring Martin into it if he could help it. "I'm not too sure," he replied, feeling a little bad about lying to Matt. "You'd better get going," he added with a nod outside the car towards the rain that had decided to change from a drizzle to a fully fledged downpour.
Matt quickly put the photo in his pocket, and with a smile towards Max and a couple of raps on the car door, he turned away and headed back to his own car.
Logan looked at the rain with distaste. "Are you sure you wanna do the Agency tonight?" he said, pulling out into what little traffic there was at that time of night.
"That's funny. You didn't think twice about sending me out in the storm from hell last week to lift that disk for you," murmured Max with a sideways glance at him.
"Just because I didn't actually say anything, doesn't mean I was happy about sending you out on a night like that."
"Maybe it's good for the General to go out on patrol with the Field Commander," Max said slyly.
"I thought that was a post you weren't accepting,"
"I'm not," she retorted.
D/A D/A D/A D/A D/A
"Not what you'd call up-market," Max commented, as they pulled up in front of what looked like a small, two-storey, office block in a particularly seedy part of Seattle.
Max looked around. Fortunately the bad weather appeared to have kept a lot of people off the street. It was the type of area where a car looked conspicuously out of place – except ones that had been stripped bare by thieves and abandoned.
"Lock your doors," she said to Logan as she got out, having grabbed a few of her implements that were prerequisites for breaking and entering, "if you hope to have a car to drive away in."
Logan watched her enter the building, and then settled in for what he thought may turn out to be a long wait, watching the vicinity warily.
It was a depressing neighbourhood, having once been an area where small businesses had flourished, but the legitimate businesses had long since fled the area, leaving it to be overrun with prostitutes, pimps and illegal gambling establishments, to name just a fraction of the crime that flourished there. He couldn't imagine Martin picking his way through this lot.
Idly drumming his hand on the wheel, Logan watched a group of young men that came out from one of the many bars in the area. They seemed to be discussing, from their gestures, where to go next, until one of them grabbed the other by the arm, and then Logan saw them all look in his direction.
Grabbing his gun from the door compartment, Logan watched carefully as they approached the Aztek, his fingers closing over the handle.
Sitting very still, Logan watched them as they approached the car, only to be incredibly relieved when they walked past the car, and entered what looked like some type of bar just behind him.
"Come on, Max," he muttered impatiently, knowing it was, in fact, far too early to expect her back.
Several minutes later, looking towards the building across the road into which Max had vanished, he was surprised to see her come running towards the car.
He put down his window as she came around to his door, obviously with the intention of talking to him.
"Logan, you gotta come and take a look at this," she said cryptically.
Logan looked at her for a moment, then turned to grab his chair.
Max did a quick check of the area while he set it up and transferred, then watched silently while he grabbed his gun from the door compartment. She wouldn't use one herself, but she had no compunction about Logan using one.
Wondering what it was he had to see, Logan waited for Max to open the door to the offices, then pushed his way in while she stopped the door from swinging shut on him.
"This way," she said curtly.
Following Max was easier said than done, as once inside, it was incredibly dark, neither one wanting to put on an overhead light to advertise their presence.
After losing her twice in a maze of corridors – it was surprising once inside how extensive the building actually was - he stopped and pulled out a small flashlight from his jacket pocket.
"Max," he hissed into the darkness, flicking the small beam of light in the direction he thought she'd gone, only to thump a hand to his chest to stop his racing heart when he felt a hand drop to his shoulder.
"This way," she said quietly, oblivious to the cardiac arrest she'd almost caused, then wordlessly holding out her hand to take the flashlight.
Taking a deep breath and throwing her an annoyed look, Logan followed the beam of light she now directed in front for his benefit.
Having lost all sense of direction by this time, he could only assume that Max knew what she was doing, they entered what looked like a small office.
"Is this it?" Logan whispered, wondering why he was bothering to when it was obvious there was no one else in the building – only a cat would be able to see in darkness such as this.
Max gave Logan back the flashlight, which he immediately directed in an arc around the room. The small, but powerful light showed him that they were in a small office, containing little more than a desk, and an area with a small sink for making tea and coffee, and a few wooden chairs. Directing the beam back towards Max, he could see her opening something, and then suddenly the room was awash with light that was flooding in from another room, now revealed, before him.
Max turned and grinned when she saw Logan looking through the doorway in astonishment.
Wheeling in, Logan found himself in a windowless room that was filled with rows of filing cabinets. Opening one of the filing cabinets, Logan found a series of folders filed alphabetically. Lifting one at random that pertained to a case he knew nothing about, he quickly scanned through it, amazed to find the most exacting detail, all written in long hand, and a series of photos.
"What was it Martin said about his P.I?" Max asked.
"It certainly wasn't that he was extremely thorough and methodical," Logan murmured, looking about him. "This guy was no run-of –the –mill, cheap, outta work cop. The man must've loved his work."
"Makes you wonder all the more what was in that envelope, doesn't it."
"Have you checked through 'B'?"
Max opened one of the top drawers, and brought out a manila folder, opening it wide to show that it was empty. "This is it. Emma Belding."
Logan held out his hand and she passed it to him. It was definitely empty – and there wasn't even a note scribbled on the outside of the folder, he noticed, before shoving it behind his back.
With a disappointed sigh, Logan looked around the room, quickly marvelling again at the incredible sense of order to be found everywhere. "Damn. This guy may have really been onto something."
Max opened another cupboard marked 'Surveillance Tapes'.
"You don't suppose ...?" she said hopefully.
"Worth a try," Logan shrugged. "I wonder why this guy has no computers."
"Not everyone's obsessed with modern technology," she murmured.
Logan flicked a glance in her direction, then returned to the filing cabinet he'd been looking through that appeared to be the firm's accounts. He was just looking up 'Cale' when Max said, "Logan."
He looked up at her, the first vestige of hope beginning to break through when he saw she was holding a tape. "Emma Belding," she said succinctly.
"You're good," he complimented her.
Max was about to make a comment when she suddenly turned towards the door in an attitude of concentration.
"Max..."
"Shhh, I think I hear something. Stay here."
Before Logan had a chance to reply, she tossed him the tape, and went out the heavy door, closing it quietly behind her.
Logan looked at the door for a second, frowning slightly, then he looked at the tape in his hand. There didn't seem to be a machine set up to play it immediately, so he popped it on top of the filing cabinet he was working on, and returned to the accounts, hoping there might be a lead there.
Within seconds, his long fingers had found 'Cale, Martin.' Logan gave a long, low whistle when he saw the amount of money Martin had paid Bryan Burke. The man didn't come cheap. Slipping the contents of the file onto his knee he found it listed all aspects of the case that Burke had covered. He looked at it with a gleam in his eyes – maybe they'd be able to piece together a little of the detective's work through this file, thanks to the man's almost fanatical attention to detail. Even his accounts made for fascinating reading.
Logan had been studying it for some minutes when he looked up, wondering why Max hadn't returned. Surely she should be back by now?
Adding the file to the empty manila folder that he'd already slid behind his lower back, he wheeled over to the security door, putting his hand on the doorknob to open it.
With a shock, by the light of the room behind him, he could see that the outer office was beginning to fill with wispy tendrils of smoke.
"Max," he said tensely.
Quickly spinning around, he went back and grabbed the flashlight, then pulled out his gun from his pocket and shoved it firmly between his legs.
Sticking the small flashlight in his mouth, he closed the door behind him to keep it free from smoke, just in case they had to go back there, then he set about finding Max.
He couldn't see any glow from the fire but it must have been burning with a reasonable intensity because the amount of smoke out in the hallway was already becoming quite thick.
He thought with grim humour of the training they'd had as children in the event of a fire – 'drop and roll.' Well, the rolling he could do, but if he was going to find Max he'd have to stay in the chair. 'If' he was going to find her, his mind seemed to mock him.
Throwing caution to the wind, he stuck the flashlight between his legs in front of the gun, and started calling her name, quietly at first, then increasingly louder as the seriousness of their predicament hit him.
Rounding a corner he was startled to see the first glow of flames from a direction he took to be somewhere near the front entrance, but he'd been so confused when they'd first come in he really couldn't be sure.
Swallowing the panic that seemed to be rising in his throat, and resisting the urge to cough as the smoke started to choke him, he stopped and called again to Max, this time as loud as he possibly could.
Still receiving no answer, he pushed on again, only to be brought up short by something in front of his wheels. Grabbing the flashlight, he hastily shone it in front - there, in a small heap on the floor, lay Max.
"Max," he called to her, shaking her shoulder, for an instant fearful that ...
He heard a small groan, then, "Logan?"
"You're okay?" he asked her in a controlled voice that showed nothing of his inner turmoil.
Max sat up, then looked around with horror as she realized she was lying in a corridor that was rapidly filling with smoke.
"We gotta get outta here," she stated, taking charge of the situation by instinct. She swayed slightly when she first jumped up, closing her eyes momentarily, to the concern of Logan, but she quickly shrugged it off as the adrenalin coursed through her body.
"I think the fire's towards the entrance," Logan told her between coughs. The smoke was beginning to become dangerously thick.
Max looked about, trying to get her bearings. Logan seemed to be right – but the old place was such a rabbit warren, she wasn't entirely sure how to make it to a back exit.
"You hold the flashlight," she told Logan, having to yell above the increasingly loud and eerie sound of flames crackling and licking up the walls of the old building, as she moved behind him.
She'd just put both hands on his shoulder to push him when he suddenly put his hand up and grabbed one of hers. "No," he said, shaking his head, for the moment unable to speak.
Max eyed him with disbelief. Was this a time for male pride?
"The tape," he managed to get out. "I left it in the other room."
Enlightenment dawned on Max's face. "Why didn't you say so?" she snapped.
It took her less than thirty seconds to find her way back to Burke's office. With relief they both found the air that little bit easier to breath once they were in the outer office.
"Max." Logan was looking at the door to the inner office. It was now partly open.
"I closed it," he mouthed to her, picking up his gun.
Without hesitation, Max darted to the door, swiftly putting her head around the edge of the door to check inside. Turning to Logan, she said quietly. "I think it's empty. Let me go first."
This time she stole a slower look. The light was still on, and everything looked as they had left it. Moving with cat-like grace, she crept into the room, checking each row for intruders, other than themselves. Finding no one, she turned and signalled to Logan.
Logan wheeled up to the filing case he'd been working on, and put his hand up to feel for the tape – nothing. He swung around to Max. "There's no tape there now, is there?" he said disgustedly.
She shook her head.
"Dammitt!" Logan fumed.
"Forget about the tape. We've gotta find a way outta here," she reminded him, concerned to see his red, streaming eyes.
Her eyes were streaming as well, but thanks to the blow to the back of her head, she'd been on the floor breathing in the clearest air in the building. Add to that her impressive lung capacity, it was no wonder she was in better shape than he was.
A large muffled whoosh told them that somewhere in the building chemicals were beginning to ignite.
"Come on," she yelled, not happy with the situation, holding the door wide for him. Once chemicals were exploding, who knew what might happen.
Looking about, she noticed a hand towel over by the small sink. Max grabbed it, thoroughly soaking it under the faucet.
"Here, take this and hold it over your mouth, and keep your head down as low as possible."
"What about you?" he yelled back.
"I'll be fine, just do as I say."
Another loud whoosh that was strong enough to break windows made them look at each other with alarm.
This time when she grabbed Logan's shoulders, he didn't resist, but turned the flashlight back on.
With both hands on his broad shoulders, she pushed him out of the office, and hopefully, if she wasn't confused by the smoke, down the corridor that led to a back entrance, all the while Logan holding the flashlight in front of them, more for his benefit than hers, because it tended to reflect off the smoke rather than penetrate it.
It was now decidedly noticeable that the temperature within the building had dramatically increased, but due to the many partitions, they still couldn't actually see any flames.
Logan had begun to cough quite badly, and Max was beginning to find it increasingly difficult to get her breath, when with tremendous relief she saw the old 'exit' sign – bravely shining through the darkness and smoke.
"Logan," she yelled to him, as suddenly a tremendous roar far louder than any other they'd heard tore through the building, and this time terrifying tendrils of flame raced along the ceiling as if they were demons let loose from hell.
Half crouching, she raced forward the last few feet, letting go of Logan to rush forward and open the door.
It didn't move.
Pulling at it again with all her might, she felt Logan tugging on her arm. When she turned he was gesturing.
Comprehending immediately, she looked up to where he shone his flashlight – the door had security bolts at the top and bottom, which she hadn't seen in her desperation to get out of there.
In two moves, she had them both drawn back, then she pulled the heavy door back as if it weighed nothing, and in a moment had herself and Logan through the door and into the clear, cold and blissfully wet, dark Seattle night.
TBC