Page 15 of Logan

“We knew this wouldn’t be easy,” he reminded me though the phone. “It’s a miracle you’ve gotten as far as you have. I certainly wouldn’t have known aboutDinah’s Place, and even if I had, she wouldn’t have told me anything. That’s all thanks to you. Now that we know he’s in the city, we just need to decide what to do next.”

The phone was on speaker mode, sitting on the bed next to me. This left my hands free to turn the library card over and over.

“I know what to do next. I’m just not sure if I should. I mean, if Clay doesn’t want to see his brother again, it’s not my place to force him.”

The phone fell silent for a while, and I checked to make sure the call was still connected. The timer was still running, indicating the call was still going, but Sebastian wasn’t saying anything.

“If I don’t pursue him, I’m always going to regret it,” I admitted in a very small voice. “It’s a horrible, selfish reason. My regrets shouldn’t matter, but I’m not sure how to live with myself otherwise.”

Faint whispering could be heard from Sebastian’s side of the call. He seemed to be talking to someone else, though I couldn’t hear what they were saying. I waited while Sebastian finished his other conversation, and then his voice rang loud and clear.

“Clay never said he didn’t want to see his brother. He claimed he didn’t have one. That doesn’t sound like he’s made a choice. That sounds like denial. He’s probably survived all this time by locking away his painful thoughts and memories, so he didn’t have to face them. Reminding him of his brother is breaking down those defenses. I’d say you should go after him. Try one more time. If he makes a clear decision and says he wants nothing to do with his brother, then respect that, but give him the chance to make that decision.”

Sighing, I ran my hand through my hair, which dragged my carefully styled bangs into my face. “Even if I did find him again, what’s to stop him from reacting the same way as he did this time? He’s probably even more scared of me now.”

“I might have an idea for that. Just focus on finding Clay for now. I’ll try to come up with a better way for you to get through to him.”

CHAPTER 8

Logan

Two phone calls.

That was all it took to find Clay’s address.

The benefits of knowing the right people.

Less than twelve hours after our disastrous first meeting in the hotel, I stood outside Clay’s apartment building, staring up at the floor where I knew he lived.

I’d already been there for fifteen minutes, and my feet felt rooted to the sidewalk.

If I waited any longer, I may as well just give up and leave. Standing there in indecision wasn’t doing anyone any good.

Taking a deep breath, I approached the building. The front door was locked, and required someone from inside to buzz me through. There wasn’t a doorman or anyone I could reason with, so I fell back on the tried-and-true method of pushing all the call buttons at the same time. In a building this big, someonewas always expecting a delivery or a guest. I only had to hit each button twice before getting the telltale click of the door unlocking.

Clay’s address was on the twelfth floor, right in the center of the building. In my years working for the FPA and as a detective in Maryland, I’d been to a lot of decrepit places, and this building was right up there with the worst of them. It had obviously been written off as a lost cause by the health department years ago, and I doubted a safety inspection had been done in the last decade. It was a miracle the place hadn’t been condemned already, but someone must have been making money off the people living there in order to keep it around.

Based on the sounds I could hear through the paper-thin walls, there were almost as many humans as rats who called the building home, way over the legal occupancy limit.

There was no elevator, so I had to climb up to the twelfth floor. The staircase was the worst part of the building, filled with dirt and rubbish, and suspicious red stains on the walls that I tried not to think about.

I didn’t even dare breathe through my nose. The building also had no air-conditioning, and the San Francisco heat made everything smell ten times worse.

Despite being in good shape and regularly hitting the gym, I was panting by the time I reached the twelfth floor. If Clay had to climb these stairs every day, he must have the legs of an Olympic athlete.

The door to Clay’s apartment was barely hanging on its hinges. There wasn’t even a point in knocking. I could have forced my way in just by breathing too hard on the door, but I knockedanyway for the sake of politeness. Though I rapped my knuckles against the doorframe, rather than the door itself.

Almost immediately, the door flew open.

“What?”

I stared at the unknown man for a moment, trying to figure out what to say. The man, who I hoped was Clay’s roommate, was obviously high off his ass. He swayed where he stood, clinging to the doorframe for support, and couldn’t fully focus on me.

“I’m looking for Clay Dahler.”

“Who?”

Just in case Clay’s roommate didn’t know about his job, I didn’t dare call him Blue Steele. Instead, I gave a detailed description of Clay.

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