Luck Be a Lady - Cathie Linz [5]
“You can’t be engaged to one woman and still married to another,” she said.
“I know that.”
“And you certainly can’t commit bigamy,” Logan said.
“I know that too,” Buddy growled.
Megan stared at Logan as if searching for answers. He didn’t appear to have any, but he did have the kind of dark good looks that no doubt had women swarming over him at cop bars all over the city. Black Irish, some called it, black hair and moody blue eyes. It didn’t matter. She was immune.
Megan was the first to admit that she had a chip on her shoulder where cops were concerned. She had good reason, not that it was any business of Logan’s.
“How do you know the annulment papers weren’t signed?” Megan said.
“Because my dad just ran across the unsigned papers on Buddy’s desk at his home when he was there to give Mouse his shot.”
“Who’s Mouse?” Megan said.
“His diabetic cat,” Logan said. “He needs an insulin shot every twelve hours. Gramps left the directions on his desk but the cat messed up the papers.”
“Maybe there’s another copy of the annulment papers that was signed?” Megan asked. Damn, but decades of being an optimist were hard to give up.
Buddy shook his head. “There was only one set of papers.”
“If they were on your desk, you must have known that they weren’t signed.” She directed her comment to Buddy.
Logan answered. “You’d have to see Buddy’s desk to understand. He’s got piles of stuff dating back decades.”
“Paperwork,” Buddy muttered under his breath. “Damn paperwork will do you in every time.”
“Everything okay out here?” Caine had his war face on as he stepped out onto the terrace.
“My grandson Logan is a Chicago police detective,” Buddy said proudly.
“Caine is a former Force Recon Marine,” Megan said. “He’s not impressed that Logan is a cop.”
“Yes, I am impressed,” Caine said.
“Whose side are you on?” Megan said.
“Caine is a former Marine,” Buddy said. “He’s on the side of the United States of America.”
“The U.S. has no stake in this matter,” Megan said before telling Caine, “Go back to your bride, please, Caine. I’ve got this under control.”
Caine raised an eyebrow at her confident claim but did leave after saying, “Just shout if you need any help.”
She smiled and nodded before turning to glower at Buddy. “How could you make such a mess of things?”
“Hey, listen up, buttercup—” he protested.
She interrupted him. “No, you listen up!”
“Logan, are you going to stand there and let her talk to me like that?” Buddy demanded.
Logan just nodded.
“I had no idea you had such a temper,” Buddy told Megan. “She must have Irish blood in her,” he added for Logan’s benefit.
“No doubt,” Logan agreed.
“I don’t believe you two. This is serious.”
“What’s serious?” Gram asked as she came onto the terrace. “Buddy, is there a problem?” She came to stand by his side, a concerned look on her face. Even though she was in her mid-seventies, Ingrid West was not your typical senior citizen. Her blue eyes and high cheekbones proclaimed her Scandinavian heritage while her gelled spiky haircut revealed her rebel nature. Today she was wearing one of her Chanel suits with a large red lapel flower and a Save the Polar Bears pin. “It’s not the Swedish mob, is it?” she said in a semi-whisper. “Are they here in Las Vegas?”
“Gram, there’s no such thing,” Megan began when Buddy interrupted her.
“No, the Swedish mob has no foothold here.”
“Swedish mob?” Logan frowned.
“That’s right,” Buddy sounded defensive. “Tell her they aren’t here in Las Vegas.”
“I have connections,” Gram said.
“To the Swedish mob?” Logan said.
Gram nodded. “Why? Does Buddy have a problem? Do we need to call in the Swedish mob?”
“No, ma’am, I don’t think that will be necessary,” Logan said.
Gram gently socked his arm. “I’ve told you before to call me Gram, not ma’am. Were you feeling left out today, Logan? Is that why you stopped the wedding? You didn’t want to miss anything? I’m sorry you weren