Page 51 of Logan’s Way

He’d crossed a line by agreeing to help Lena. By stepping back toward the work he had been trying to step away from, he’d chosen action over restraint because restraint—however obedient it felt—had meant watching people fall through cracks he could have filled.

And he still didn’t know if that choice was right. Still couldn’t reconcile the tension between following procedure and protecting people when procedure proved insufficient. Still felt the weight of questions about authority and submission, and about whether outcomes proved anything except that human judgment was dangerous, no matter how righteous its intentions.

But Lena Torres needed help. And Angus was the person who could provide it.

Even if providing it meant he was no longer protected by the restraint he had been trying to honor as faithfulness.

Chapter Nineteen

The file was already on Angus’s desk when he arrived at the station.

Subject: Derek Walsh. Status: Active monitoring.

Angus picked up the file and found Miguel in the bullpen, coffee in hand, looking like he hadn’t slept much. The deputy’s expression shifted when he saw Angus—relief mixed with something that looked like apology.

“I thought you should see it before anyone else,” Miguel said quietly.

Angus opened the file. Inside were incident reports from the past thirty-six hours—three documented contacts between Derek Walsh and locations where Lena Torres worked or lived. All technically legal. All clearly intentional. Derek standing two blocks from the diner during Lena's shift, just within sight of the entrance. Derek’s truck parked two blocks from her apartment building, far enough to comply with the restraining order but close enough to be visible from her window. Derek at the grocery store Lena used, maintaining the required distance while following her through aisles.

“He knows exactly where the line is,” Miguel said. “And he’s walking right up to it every time. We’ve responded to each call, documented everything, but there’s nothing we can legally charge him with. He’s complying with the order’s letter.”

“But not its spirit.”

“Spirit doesn’t hold up in court. His lawyer already called yesterday, preemptively, and said if we continue ‘harassing’ his client for being in public places, they’ll file a complaint.” Miguel set his coffee down harder than necessary. “We’re doing everything right—following procedure, building documentation. And it’s not enough.”

Angus flipped through the reports, seeing the pattern Miguel couldn’t yet see because the deputy hadn’t spent twenty years watching how men like Derek escalated. The contacts were increasing in frequency—one the first day, two the second day, and three in the past twenty-four hours. The locations were getting more personal—starting with work, moving to her apartment, now showing up at places she’d mentioned going. The duration was extending—first drive-bys, then lingering presence, now sustained observation.

Derek was building toward something. Testing boundaries. Establishing that the restraining order wouldn’t stop him, that police presence was temporary, that Lena’s attempts to protect herself were futile. Creating psychological pressure that would eventually make her react—either by giving up and returning to him, or by doing something he could claim as provocation.

“Where is she now?” Angus asked.

“At work. We’ve increased patrol past the diner, but we can’t station someone there permanently. The budget won’t allow it, and command says it sets a bad precedent—using department resources to provide private security when no crime has been committed.”

“No crime yet.”

“Right. Yet.” Miguel’s frustration was evident. “You would have seen this coming three days ago. You’d have found a way to create enough pushback that Derek understood continuing wasn’t worth it. But I don’t know how to do that legally. Every option I can think of either violates his rights or exceeds our authority.”

The admission hung between them—not accusation, just recognition that the system worked when people made it work, and making it work sometimes required a kind of creativity that Miguel hadn’t yet developed.

Angus’s phone buzzed with a text from Lena: He’s here again. Outside the diner. Just standing there.

“She’s scared,” Miguel said, reading Angus’s expression. “She called me twice last night. Says she can’t keep living like this. Asked if there was anywhere she could go where he wouldn’t find her.”

“What did you tell her?”

“That she could relocate, but that doesn’t address the root problem. Derek will just wait her out. And legally, she hasn’t done anything wrong—she shouldn’t have to upend her life because the system can’t protect her from someone who’s technically not breaking any laws.”

Angus looked at the file again. At the escalation pattern. At the careful documentation that proved Derek was terrorizing Lena while remaining just inside legal boundaries. At the system working exactly as designed and still failing to accomplish what it was supposed to accomplish.

“I need to see him,” Angus said.

Miguel hesitated. “You’re still on leave. You can’t act in an official capacity.”

“I’m not going to arrest him. Just observe. See if he’s as careful in person as he is on paper.”

“Angus—”

“I’m advising on a case. That’s all. You’re welcome to come with me if you want to ensure everything stays within bounds.”