She looked at it and shook her head. “No thanks.”
“You’re strung out like a high-tension wire. Drink it.” He pushed it into her hand.
She took a small sip of it, shuddered, and wrapped both hands around the glass. “Utility men wouldn’t wear ski masks. In winter, maybe, but not at this time of the year.”
“What are you talking about?” Culley frowned.
Her shoulders moved in a vague shrug. “I was just thinking that maybe the men I saw were with the utility c
ompany—that maybe I panicked for no reason. But I didn’t. They had something black over their heads, like ski masks.”
“You did the right thing coming here.”
The phone rang. She whirled toward it, the diluted whiskey sloshing in the glass. Before Culley could answer the phone, she snatched the receiver off the cradle. “Shamrock—”
“Cat, it’s me. Jenna gave me your message.” Logan’s voice traveled through her. It calmed her, steadied her. “Tell me again what happened.”
For the third time, she repeated the story, careful not to leave out anything.
When she finished, Logan made no comment and asked instead, “How’s Quint?”
“He’s fine. In fact, he’s sound asleep on the couch.” She glanced into the living room. “We’re both fine.”
“Good. Jenna called the utility company. The outage had already been reported. They think a transformer blew. They have a repair crew rolling now. You stay with O’Rourke. I’m on my way to our place to check things out.”
“Be careful, Logan.” She clutched the phone a little tighter.
“You can count on it.”
Cat heard the smile in his voice—and something else that had the solid ring of competence. This time, after she hung up the phone, she sat down in one of the kitchen chairs, relaxing a little and taking another sip of the whiskey drink.
“That was Logan,” she told her uncle, unnecessarily.
“I figured.” He nodded.
Roughly an hour later Logan called back. “They were already gone by the time I got here,” he said. “But I found where they jimmied open a window. So far I haven’t discovered anything missing.”
“Thank God,” Cat murmured.
“I’ll probably be here a while longer yet, and I was afraid you might start worrying if you didn’t hear from me.”
“I would have.” She smiled into the phone.
“That’s what I thought. In the meantime, plan on spending the rest of the night at O’Rourke’s. I’ll grab some clothes for you and Quint and bring them with me when I come.”
“Don’t forget to bring toothbrushes and a comb. Quint’s in his pajamas, so he’ll need a full set of clothes—and his boots.”
“I’ll get them. Is O’Rourke there with you?”
“Yes?” The surprised lilt of her voice turned the answer into a question.
Logan ignored it. “Let me talk to him a minute.” During the pause that followed, he heard Cat’s muffled voice relaying his request to her uncle. When he came on the line, Logan wasted no time coming to the point. “I don’t want Cat to know yet, O’Rourke, but this was a kidnapping attempt. They were after Quint.” Logan stared at the ransom note, sealed in an evidence bag on the seat of the patrol car. Rage warred with the cold, hard knot in his stomach.
Quick on the uptake, O’Rourke said, “Don’t you be worrying about her. Cat’s fine. It kinda shook her a little, but she’s made of strong stuff.”
“I may be worrying for nothing, but you keep a sharp lookout just the same.”
“You can count on it. What’re you gonna do?”