IT WASN’T HARD to track down Kutcher. There was only one inmate in Connecticut with that surname, Carl Kutcher. The trickier part was tracking down the people who had been associated with him on the outside. If Logan could prove that Kutcher was still dealing drugs while in jail, it would make keeping him behind bars much easier. It had been Logan’s experience that major dealers don’t stop dealing because they’re in the pen. They just get more creative.
Using his sources, he was able to track down four possible drug connections, two outside Connecticut, two within an hour of Mystic. He jotted down the information on the connections and eyed his vibrating cell phone on the edge of his desk.
Heath.
He’d expected a call, especially after what his mother had said. Heath possessed all the qualities that were common of being the eldest child. He was overprotective of his very capable younger brothers, each of whom had bodies built for a brawl and sharp minds that didn’t need babysitting. He’d always gotten superior grades, and of all his siblings, Heath was the one who had gotten in the least amount of trouble over the years. He was prone to being just careful enough never to get caught, whereas Logan, Jackson, and Cooper had always been a little reckless.
He answered the call while scrolling through the information on his computer.
“Hey, bro. Thanks for helping out last night.”
“Sure thing. Ma said you came by.”
Logan heard voices and shuffling in the background and knew his brother was doing rounds at the hospital.
“Yeah. I was out that way and just checking in.” He didn’t want to admit that the attack on Stormy had rustled up bad memories and driven him to check on his mother.
“Good. She was glad to see you. I had coffee with her this morning before work.” Heath covered the mouthpiece and said something Logan couldn’t make out, then came back on the line. “Sorry, man. Listen, I’m just calling to see how Stormy is doing. Please tell me you got her real name before you took her home.”
Logan was only half paying attention, as he had another hit for a connection to Kutcher, this one on the outskirts of Mystic.
Bingo.
He jotted down the information. “That would be a negative, but I’ll get it.”
Heath didn’t respond.
“What, Heath? Spit it out.”
“Just…you know, Logan. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you look at someone like you were looking at her. Possessively.”
“She was hurt. I had just nailed her attacker.” He’d deny whatever he was feeling to his brothers until he understood it himself. Hell, he didn’t even know why he was telling Stormy that he felt so much for her after one night. It wasn’t like him to latch on to anyone. He’d never had a serious girlfriend, and he sure as hell wasn’t looking for one.
“Listen, she’s obviously got some shit going on. I’m just trying to find out what it is. It is my job, you know.”
“Yeah, okay.” He could tell by Heath’s voice that he wasn’t buying it. “Well, dinner at Mom’s Sunday night. You’re on for the wine.”
“I’ll be there.” Logan would never miss another dinner with their mother.
After they ended the call, Logan called his buddy Marco.
“Yo.” Marco Ortega was a mean son of a bitch with long black hair, tattoos on every inch of flesh save for his face and neck, and the kind of voice that made a man’s blood run cold. Marco had been in and out of jail for most of his twenties, which afforded him firsthand knowledge about the underworld of what goes on behind bars. He was one of those guys who were on the right side of the wrong side of the law, doing things that skirted the legal line, but always for good purpose.
“It’s me. I need a favor.” Logan filled Marco in on Mike Winters and hired him to tail Winters for the next four weeks. “I want to know everywhere he goes. Leave out no details. I wanna know when this guy takes a shit, got it?”
“Got it, boss.” Marco was loyal to Logan for many reasons, the least of which was that Logan had cleared his brother of a felony by tracking down the real perp when no one else had given a damn. “And if he goes near the bar or the girl?”
“Detain him until I can get there.”
His next call was to Dylan at the bar. Logan didn’t expect Dylan to spill his guts. Like the rest of the Wilds and Bads, he was one loyal son of a bitch, and by his reaction to Stormy last night, Logan assumed that stretched to her now as well.
“What took you so long?” Dylan knew him well.
“Had a few things to take care of. You working all day?”
“Yup. Don’t worry. I’ll keep my eyes open.”
“You know anything about her past?” Logan trusted Dylan to give him enough to go on, even if he didn’t want to breach Stormy’s confidence.
“Probably less than you know after the time you spent with her.”
He heard the smile in Dylan’s voice.