Silent Night Standoff. Susan Sleeman

in on it. “He wore latex gloves, so I couldn’t make out the letters. Maybe it was a class ring.”

      “From a college?” Logan asked.

      “He didn’t seem like the collegiate type.” She looked at Logan. “I’d put him in his early thirties, so it’s doubtful he was still wearing a high school ring. College is a better guess, I suppose.”

      “We’ll try to enhance the video to see if we can identify it, but if not, would you be willing to look at pictures of college class rings?”

      “Sure, but without knowing anything about Marty or Nicole, how would you even know which colleges to begin looking at?”

      “Though they’ve been quite successful, Marty and Nicole are amateur robbers, and amateurs often target banks close to home. Dumb, I know, but they do. So I’ll go back to their first robbery and pull colleges in the general area.”

      “Maybe he’d recently moved there or he went to school out of state.”

      “You could be right, but despite their amateur status we have very little to go on, so this is as good of a place as any to start.”

      “You keep saying amateur, but their intrusion style behavior didn’t fit an amateur’s profile. Amateurs usually pass notes and don’t carry weapons, right?”

      His eyes widened in surprise, likely over her knowledge of bank robbers. “That’s how they operated at first. But after the success of their first two holdups, they started showing up with guns.”

      The mention of guns sent Skyler flashing back to the moment Nicole lost her life, falling to the ground with a sickening thud. “We’re only talking about Marty now.”

      “Right. Just Marty.” Logan’s fingers tightened on the wheel, going white from the tight grip. He came to a stop at a red light and met her gaze. “There may only be one of them now, but don’t think that means you can let your guard down. Marty’s the one who pulled the trigger on the hostages in L.A. and now he has a grudge to settle with you. That not only makes him dangerous, but deadly, as well.”

      * * *

      For about the hundredth time, Logan paced past the large Christmas spruce scenting the E.R. lobby with fresh pine. It was amazing he even noticed the tree at all. Celebrating Christmas was the furthest thing from his mind right now. And he wasn’t even thinking about the job. Concern for Skyler kept his thoughts occupied. She’d been with the doctors for three hours.

      Maybe something was seriously wrong with her. Maybe he should march up to the desk to demand an update from the nurse.

      He hadn’t caught even a glimpse of Skyler since she’d rushed out of his car at the entrance, saying she’d find her own ride home. Of course, he didn’t listen to her. He couldn’t leave her alone here. So he’d parked and gone inside. After he’d collected Faith’s clothing, he’d started passing the time by making phone calls, starting with Wagner.

      Not that it moved the investigation forward. Wagner didn’t find matching prints for Nicole in any of the databases. So she didn’t have a record.

       Strike one.

      Logan called SAC Frank Inman to fast-track Nicole’s lab work in the event she’d been a crime victim and her DNA was in a database. He’d agreed, but they both knew it was an extreme long shot.

       Strike two.

      Calls finished and still no Skyler, he tried to make a to-do list. He couldn’t concentrate, though, and his thoughts kept going back to her.

      Not in a good way. Over and over, he replayed their last conversation the night he’d left for Chicago, two days before her annual shelter Christmas party. Leaving her to complete the final prep for the party without his help was lame, but he’d had to go that night, for his own peace of mind.

      She held parties for the families on Valentine’s Day, Easter, Thanksgiving and Christmas. If he’d spent another wonderful holiday with her, he would never have been able to leave. That would’ve ended with him resenting her for keeping him from his goals. Neither of them would’ve benefited from that.

      Now she was mad. Good and mad and she was his main witness. He doubted she’d relax enough around him to come up with those repressed memories if she had any.

      Strike three. He was out.

       Enough waiting.

      Logan crossed to the harried nurse to ask for an update. He heard Skyler’s voice coming from behind a divider, grinding his feet to a halt. He listened as a doctor explained that rest, particularly resting her eyes, would let her brain heal faster from her concussion.

      A concussion. Just like Darcie suspected.

      Skyler’s voice as she thanked the doctor for the quality care and said goodbye cut through his thoughts. The last thing he wanted was for her to think he was spying on her so he took his seat again and pulled out his phone. She stopped at the nurse’s desk, but Logan couldn’t make out their intense conversation.

      When he finally heard her footsteps crossing over to him, he resisted making eye contact. Instead, he continued to thumb through the screens on his phone.

      “Logan,” she said, now standing over him. “I thought I made it clear that I’d find a ride home.”

      He looked up, and, though her brows were knitted in irritation, his heart turned over. Seeing her today had unsettled him more than he would’ve thought possible.

      “I wanted to make sure you were okay.” He schooled himself to remain detached as he stood. “Are you okay?”

      “Fine.”

      “No concussion or other damage?”

      “I said I’m fine.” She turned away, her tension palpable.

      She was unable to face him while dodging his question, which meant she was planning to hide the concussion from him. He opened his mouth to demand she tell him, but he had no right to know about it or anything else in her life. As she’d said, he’d given up that right when he’d walked out. But he wouldn’t let her jeopardize her health. He was about to ask more probing questions when Paul Parsons rushed into the lobby, his tie loosened at the neck and a five-o’clock shadow darkening his jaw.

      “Good, I’m glad I caught you,” he said, sounding out of breath, his microphone conspicuously missing.

      Skyler rubbed her forehead. “Now’s not a good time for an interview.”

      “I’m not giving up on the interview, but this isn’t about that.” Parsons took a gulp of air. “I was outside and Clyde called the station, demanding to speak to me. They patched him through to my cell.”

      “He what?” Logan asked, wondering what angle Parsons was working here.

      “I know. Weird, right?” Parsons’s phone chimed, and he dug it out. “He said he saw my story outside the bank on TV and wanted me to pass a message on to Deputy Brennan.” He glanced at his phone. “Interesting. Very interesting.” He looked at Skyler. “My producer tracked the phone number Clyde called from.” He paused and, if possible, Logan knew he’d insert a drumroll here for effect.

      “And?” Logan asked, trying to hurry him along.

      Parsons turned to Skyler. “The phone’s registered to you.”

      “Me?” Skyler seemed confused.

      “He used your cell to call Jake at the bank,” Logan said. “Did you realize he kept it?”

      “I...hadn’t really thought about it.”

      “I’ll have Wagner check the bank and if it’s missing he can run a GPS search.”

      “You’ll want to hear this message first.” Parsons sounded mad, likely because they hadn’t waited with bated breath