Page 51 of The Murder Club
“They’ll get used to the new nurse.”
“Are you kidding? They hate her,” Logan groused. “And so do I. She refuses to work weekends, she demands double pay if she’s on call, and last night she informed me that scheduling the staff wasn’t in her job description. Not to mention the fact that she refuses to help handing out the breakfast trays. She told me that if I wanted it done, I could do it myself. Me.”
“Fine, we’ll find someone else.”
“In Pike?” Logan made a sound of disgust. “Do you think that qualified nurses grow on trees?”
“There are always staffing problems. You know that, Logan.”
“Well they’re a pain in the ass,” he snapped. “And honestly, I’m not in the mood to deal with it. In fact, I’m not in the mood to be in this shithole at all. If I had a damned dollar to my name, I’d be out of here.”
“And who’s fault is it you don’t have any money?” Lorene shot back. “I never dreamed you could be so stupid.”
There was a sharp silence, as if Logan was blindsided by the attack.
“Oh yeah? You want to know whose fault it is?” Logan at last managed to find his voice. “It’s yours.”
“Mine? All I’ve done is try to protect you.”
“No, what you did was steal my legacy,” Logan accused in harsh tones. “If you hadn’t abandoned my father, I would be living a life of luxury. Instead, I’m wasting my life in this crappy town, running a crappy nursing home.”
Bailey felt a pang of shock. She’d thought Logan’s father was dead. A car accident or something.
“Your legacy? I have always hoped this nursing home would be your legacy. Especially now that we’re on the brink of expanding the business,” Lorene informed her son with a loud sniff. “Unfortunately, your recent behavior suggests you have no respect for what I’ve created.”
“I’m happy to walk away,” Logan snarled.
Bailey froze at the sound of footsteps approaching the connecting door. Crap. There was nowhere to hide. And even if she ran full speed, she wouldn’t be able to reach—
“Wait, Logan.” Bailey’s frantic thoughts were interrupted as Lorene called out, a startling edge of pleading in her voice. “You know I need you here. I can’t manage the home without you.”
The footsteps stopped. Thank God.
“Then stop nagging me,” Logan commanded. “And for God’s sake, stop fighting my decision to bring back Bailey Evans. She’s the only decent staff member we have.”
Bailey inched her way down the wall, back to the door that would lead to the corridor. Damn. That was too close for comfort.
“Having her back isn’t without risk, you know,” Lorene said, the words oddly clipped. As if she was afraid Logan would be pissed. “She might start asking uncomfortable questions.”
Bailey frowned as she continued to inch her way out of the office. What questions? The fact that Gage Warren was stealing from his mother and they’d tried to hide the truth? The cover-up had certainly come back to bite them when Gage accused her of manipulating and then potentially killing his mother. Or was it something else? Some nefarious business dealing? Some creative accounting? Logan was certainly capable of Medicare fraud.
“Why would she?” Logan demanded. “Unless you give her a reason to suspect that something is wrong.”
“I have always done my part. No matter what the cost to myself.”
Logan made a sound of disgust at his mother’s bitter retort. “God save me from martyrs,” he rasped. “It’s almost nine o’clock. Bailey should be here any minute.”
Bailey darted into the corridor just as the door to Lorene’s office was pulled open to reveal Logan in a pair of black slacks and an expensive cashmere sweater. His fake tan was darker than usual, contrasting against his blindingly white smile. Just the sight of him made her flesh crawl.
“Ah, Bailey.” He motioned her forward. “Right on time.”
Bailey walked past him to enter Lorene’s office, her back stiff. “I’ve never been late to work.” She flashed a humorless smile. “Unlike some people.”
As usual, Logan allowed the insult to bounce off his thick skin. If anything, his smile widened.
“True. You’ve always been a model employee. I can only wish that the rest of our staff was as dependable as you.” He led her across the room to where a chair had been arranged next to the large desk where Lorene was seated, glaring at her with blatant disapproval. As if Bailey was the one who’d demanded this meeting. “Please have a seat,” Logan murmured.
“No, thanks.” Bailey halted in the middle of the room, her head tilted to a defiant angle. “I prefer to stand.”