CRASH (A Logan Brothers Novel) (11 page)

Lexi screwed up her face as she
liked to when faced with a difficult question. I didn't know her that
well but I knew that she was dreadful at lying.

She nodded slowly, an “i've
been caught” expression on her face. “Yep, although she only
worked for a few months. She doesn't do it any more.”

I literally couldn't believe it.
Although, it kinda all made sense now as well. Alice had been really
coy when I'd asked her how she knew Lexi. She'd said they used to
work together, and then shut down. Well, at least that was one of her
secrets drawn into the light.

The fact that Kyle ran a strip
club didn't shock me at all, though. I mean, the family owned a bar,
a club, a casino. Why not have a strip club as well? They probably
owned a brothel too. Maybe a bookies. Pretty much anything that dealt
in a vice.

“
Hey, Elle.” Lexi's voice
brought my back into the room and out of my head. “If you talk to
Alice about this, don't react like you did with me. Seriously, I know
she won't like that. If it were me, I probably wouldn't even mention
it to her. Bit of a sore spot.”

“
How come? What happened.”

I was never much of a gossip but
this was just too good to miss. I felt like I was an extra in
Days
of Our Lives
or something, all this family drama going on around
me.

“
Well, it was always forbidden
that any staff members see each other. Kyle's dad, Charles Logan, he
was not a guy you wanted to mess with. He ruled that place with an
iron fist. I mean, I liked it because it meant no guy would ever get
frisky. But it also applied to staff. If you got together, or even
just had a one night stand or something, you'd be in big, big
trouble. Like, lose your nuts trouble. Seriously, there was this one
security guard who was castrated for dating a stripper. Castrated!
Can you imagine that!”

I really didn't want to.

“
Anyway,” she continued,
“when Charles Logan died, I guess Kyle and Alice thought they could
become official. So she stopped working there and the rest is
history.”

But it wasn't quite, was it. I
remembered back to the night I arrived. Crash had been furious with
Kyle, and they seemed to be arguing about Alice. It seemed that maybe
Crash was trying to continue where his father left off. He did seem
to have that dominant way about him.

“
It's like living in a soap
opera round here,” I said, “Even people's secrets have secrets.”

“
Yeah well I've got mine out
of the way! Other than that, what you see is what you get with me.”
She laughed, her jovial spirit returning.

“
Anyway, I'm sure you've got a
few little secrets of your own,” she kept on. “Like moving here
mysteriously in the middle of the year. You still haven't told me
about that.”

“
Yeah, well that's a long
story!”

She locked at the imagined watch
on her wrist. “I've got time...”

“
OK, buckle up babe, cos this
ones a doozy.”

Crash

My fist was pushing down so hard
on my desk I thought it was going to crash straight through it.

“
What do you mean, there's no
link?” I seethed through my teeth.

“
I couldn't find anything
Crash. Nothing. There is nothing linking your fathers killing to Mr
Coopers people. If they did it, there's no evidence at all.”

“
FUCK!” I roared. “Then
who is fucking responsible?!”

He remained calm in his seat.
Jones was never phased by anything.

“
Your father had lots of
enemies. There's a laundry list of people it could have been. I'll
keep searching, but you might have to resign yourself to the fact
that you may never know.”

Never know. I couldn't live
like that. I had to fucking know. I had to.

“
OK, get back on it. I don't
want you sleeping until you can give me something.”

He stood and nodded. A loyal
man, Jones, always there for my father, always here for me now.

I grabbed a glass and downed a
shot of whiskey as he left the room. The liquid warmed my throat and
settled down into my stomach. I took another and sank back into my
chair, my mind rolling around in turmoil.

I was juggling so much shit
right now I knew something would eventually come down onto my head.
There was this ongoing investigation into my fathers murder,
something I'd never stop looking into. Then there was this deal with
my investors, a problem that was constantly front and center of my
mind.

My father had built a strong
business. I wanted to expand it into an empire. Build on his legacy.
Make sure the name of Logan was never forgotten.

Of course, Kyle was acting as
another thorn in my side. He was still pushing me to find a
replacement for him at the club, threatening constantly to walk away.
I knew he wouldn't though. What the fuck would he do out from under
the umbrella of our families wealth? He had no credentials to speak
of. All he knew was running a strip club. And if he left, I'd make
sure no one within a thousand clicks would hire him. There was no
space for disloyalty in this family.

The news from Jones wasn't the
way I wanted to start the day. I had a serious meeting to get to
later on and had hoped it to be on a happier footing. Now my mind was
clouded by thoughts of my father once more, and I needed to clear the
air in my head before doing anything else.

I stood and stepped out of my
office. The casino floor below me was quiet, most of the all night
punters having cleared out earlier in the morning. It would pick up
again as the day went on, but right now it was at its lowest ebb,
like the embers of a fire just waiting to spark back into life.

I walked out into the parking
lot and sucked in air, feeling the cool morning breeze rush over my
face. I needed calmness, I needed serenity, I needed to clear the
cobwebs before my meeting. This was a biggie, and I needed to
convince my investors that I was a safe bet.

Crash, in your current state
of mind, you couldn't convince a prostitute to open her legs. Get
your fucking act together.

I climbed into my Hummer and
turned the ignition, the engine roaring to life like a lion. There
was only one place I knew to go where my mind would find some calm. A
place I always gravitated to as a kid if I was scared or upset.

Hopefully, now, it would have
the same effect.

....

No one knew of my love for art.
I guess if they did it would diminish my reputation a little bit. It
wasn't like I was an expert or anything. Far from it in fact. No, I
just found it relaxing looking at paintings that were created
hundreds of years ago.

I couldn't really explain why,
but I'd been going to the Museum of Art since I was a kid. I'd just
sit and look at the paintings for hours. Somehow it put my life in
perspective, made me see how I was just a tiny cog in a massive
machine.

It also made me want to leave
this world with my stamp well and truly upon it. I'd look at the
paintings and think of how their creators would live forever, always
remembered in the minds of those looking at their work.

I wanted the same for me. I
wanted the same for my family. It was an ambition that I was always
working to see realized. Now, just maybe, that was becoming a
reality.

The museum was situated in the
center of town, along one side of a large open square. It was grand
and imposing, a common site for tourists and art students. There were
many rooms inside, many treasures to enjoy within, hundreds of years
of art history covered. It was the only real piece of culture that
infiltrated my life.

On the other side of the square
sat the Museum of Modern Art. That place didn't interest me in the
same way. I'd been in there once, but never returned. It just didn't
hold the same gravitas for me, the same weight of history.

And the art itself - I felt I
could have pulled some of it off myself. I mean, a 6 foot canvas
painting that looked like it could have been done by a 2 year old
doing a finger painting didn't impress me. If I could do it, what was
the point?

I sat in the central hall of the
museum now, my mind sifting through a thousand memories of my youth.
I remembered coming here after I'd beaten up Jimmy Trenton, this kid
at school. It was the first time I'd been in a fight, and I was
terrified I'd go to jail or something.
Stupid kid, didn't know
what I was thinking.

I came here when my mom died.
She was killed in a car crash when I was 18. I hated that I had no
one to blame, nowhere to direct my anger. I wanted to punch straight
through the walls but I came here instead.

And now I sat here again, the
death of my other parent weighing heavy on my mind. This time was
different. This time there was someone to blame. What crushed at my
lungs more than anything, however, was that I didn't know who it was.

The minutes ticked by as my mind
began to calm. It always did here. It helped me put things in
perspective, get my priorities straight. I wanted to be remembered. I
wanted to forge my name into the foundations of this fucking country.
Just like these artists all around me and the works they'd created, I
wanted to live forever.

....

I stood and walked from the
central hall back towards the main exit, my mind clearing. The
weather outside was crisp, the chill of the morning given over to
warm sunshine flowing down from above.

I breathed in deep as I stood on
the front steps, the large square ahead of me. There seemed to be
something going on down there, some sort of street performance to
entertain the gathering crowds.

Tourists were standing in a
large circle around the side of the square, all of them looking in
and holding their cameras aloft. I watched with mild interest as a
group of girls stepped into the center, dressed in black and white
tights.

The sound of music suddenly
filled the air down below as the group began dancing and moving in
unison, their bodies flowing around and over each other. The black
and white of their leotards was quite striking as their bodies flowed
in twisting and turning motions, graceful and poetic.

It wasn't a scene that would
usually interest me but something caught my eye.

I moved in closer, down the
steps towards the crowd as the dancers continued to perform, the
flashing of cameras doing nothing to put them off.

My eyes fixed on one of the
girls. Her body looked exceptional in the tights, her frame petite
yet with a curve, her movements feminine and sensual. I tried to get
a good look at her face, but other bodies and arms kept obscuring
her.

Then, from nowhere, she turned
and stopped in front of me, the performance ending as abruptly as it
had started. She held her head down, her blonde hair tied back to
keep it from her eyes. Slowly, as the claps of the audience began to
rise, her head lifted, a wide smile upon it, her blue eyes sparkling.

It was Elle.

Her eyes danced over the crowd,
thanking them for their applause. I stood tall above them, towards
the back, my eyes set directly on her. She suddenly turned towards
me, as though she'd felt my gaze upon her, and her smile widened.

She looked so relieved, so
excited, so pumped with adrenaline. I guess it was probably the first
time she'd danced in front of people.

She should do it again.

She spontaneously set forward,
pushing through the crowd as they watched on at her, walking straight
at me.

I stayed motionless. She looked
gorgeous, her face completely lit up, an energy in her that I hadn't
seen before.

It seemed to give her life as
she thrust her hands forward and grabbed at my body, her lips rushing
straight into mine as the crowd cheered behind her.

Before I knew what was going on
she'd stepped back, that coy look I'd seen before creeping quickly
back onto her face. I couldn't help the frown from dominating my
expression. I must have looked like I'd just been accosted by a
madman.

Her face turned embarrassed at
seeing my expression and she quickly turned and rushed back towards
her friends, who were now gathering their things at the far side of
the crowd and seemingly preparing to leave.

I opened my mouth to speak but
had nothing to say, the crowd once more engulfing Elle as she
disappeared.

A smile hit my face.

Well that was unexpected.

Elle

“
Look, what's the big deal? If
that's the most embarrassing you've ever done then you should count
yourself lucky!”

I had, literally, never been so
embarrassed in my life. Lexi was doing her best to cheer me up but I
was having none of it.

I mean, sure there was the
skinny dipping incident in front of my entire year but I was drunk
then. Its different hearing about things after the event to actually
remembering them first hand.