Luck Be a Lady - Cathie Linz [58]
“Why not?”
“You’re the mad bad blonde. I’m not.”
“You’re the big bad brunette.”
“No, I’m not. I’m the optimist in the family. The girl next door. But I’m getting tired of that.”
“Trust me, the girl next door would not be shacking up with a guy at the Queen of Hearts Motel. Why didn’t you take separate rooms?”
“They only had one room. There was a king-sized bed. Can we please get back to the subject of my mother?”
“If you insist.”
“I do.”
They spent the next hour going over the information Megan did have on her mom.
“We’ll find her,” Faith said. “But are you prepared for what might happen when we do? You might not like what we discover.”
“I realize that,” Megan said. “But I have to know. I have to find her.”
Logan sat across the table from his grandfather in one of Chicago’s many South Side Irish bars. This one happened to be Buddy’s favorite. Something to do with the way they pulled the Guinness on tap.
Logan was wiping the froth from his upper lip from his first sip of Guinness when out of the blue Buddy said, “How are the nightmares going?”
“Who said anything about nightmares? Have you been talking to Megan about me?”
“Whoa there, boy-o. Paranoid much?”
“You didn’t answer the question. Who told you about the nightmares?”
“You did, by your reaction. And you need to see someone about that. What made you think Megan had spilled the beans?”
“She was present when I had one of my nightmares,” Logan said gruffly.
“Present, huh?”
“That’s right.”
“So you two are . . . ?”
“No, we’re not,” Logan said.
“Why not?”
“Because she has a thing against cops.”
“What kind of a thing?”
“You should ask her.”
“Believe me, I will.”
“No, on second thought, don’t do that,” Logan said.
“Why not?”
“Because talking about it upsets her.”
Buddy’s face darkened. “Was she attacked by a cop or something?”
“No.”
“Was her heart broken by a two-timing cop?”
“No.”
“Well, whatever it was, she shouldn’t hold it against you. You didn’t have anything to do with it, did you?”
“No.”
“Are you buddies with any of the perpetrators?”
“No.”
“Then tell her that.”
“She knows. Besides, she’s got enough on her plate right now.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Buddy demanded.
“Nothing.”
“Is this bad cop causing her trouble?”
Logan shook his head.
“Then what’s her problem?”
“It’s personal.”
“Is it about her grandmother? Is something wrong with Ingrid?”
“No. Paranoid much?” he asked, repeating Buddy’s earlier comment.
Buddy heaved a sigh of relief before taking a sip of his beer. “Did I tell you the one time I spoke to Ingrid, she had the nerve to accuse me of deliberately trying to delay our nuptials by not getting the annulment?”
“Is she right?”
“What do you mean, is she right? Of course not.”
Logan raised an eyebrow. “Do you regret asking Ingrid to marry you?”
“No,” Buddy said emphatically.
“Then what’s the problem?”
“Danged if I know. I can’t believe this woman is so hard to track down.”
“The one you married in Vegas?”
“Right. I’m a seasoned pro at finding people. It’s what I do, which is why Ingrid is finding it hard to believe I’m having trouble.”
“I can see her point.”
“You’re a lot of help.”
“I’m just saying ...”
Buddy held up his hand. “Don’t be saying.”
“Okay.”
“So when are you going to talk to Megan about my situation?”
“Uh, never,” Logan said.
“Come on. I need some help here. Ingrid loves Megan and would take whatever she says seriously. I need you to tell Megan that I am doing everything I can to clear up this situation so I can be with Ingrid. Will you talk to her?” Buddy paused before adding, “Please. I don’t ask you for much.”
Logan gave in. His grandfather’s hangdog expression was too pitiful to resist, which is why Buddy used it in