Ch. 30

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Logan felt his mind spin. A note. Remus had left a note. 

“Why didn’t his family know about the note?” Logan asked suspiciously.

“Because it wasn’t really a note.” Ms. Ågren shrugged. “It was a series of text messages. All of them sent to me.”

“What?” Logan frowned.

In Remus’ final moments, the one he felt needed an explanation was Anne-Marie Ågren?

It didn’t add up. Remus had only expressed disdain for his former employer. Why would he prioritize saying goodbye to her instead of his family? 

Perhaps it could be tied to the reason he hadn’t moved on to the afterlife yet?

Logan narrowed his eyes. He needed more information. 

"What did he say?"

"That I can't tell you." She smiled wryly, looking back at Logan. "He was a man of many secrets. That one dies with him, it seems." She hummed, eyeing Logan critically. "You're sure you're not working for anyone?"

"Positive." Logan nodded.

She leaned down so she could get a closer look at him. "I'll have to kill you, y'know."

Logan tried to keep his expression neutral, but his fear was given away by the way he paled.

Ms. Ågren laughed. "Don't look at me like that! It's just business."

“I really know nothing.” Logan growled.

“I disagree.” Ms. Ågren tilted her head. “You know about me, which is already too much.” 

“I didn’t want to be mixed up in any of this! I just wanted to learn about the last tenant!” Logan insisted. “I won’t tell anyone, if that’s what you’re concerned about.”

“Am I supposed to take your word for that? You understand how risky that is, yes?” Ms. Ågren smirked. “Even if we let you go, we couldn’t let you return to your apartment. People would ask you questions, and we can’t have that.”

"I--But I--"

“Take care of him for me.” Ms. Ågren told the man, turning to leave the room.

“With pleasure.” The man smirked, reeling his fist back.

The door slammed open before Ms. Ågren reached it. It made a loud bang as it hit the wall.

Logan flinched, his mind filled with thoughts of Emile’s blood, hiding underneath the desk, dead eyes--

“Freeze!” A police officer barked, pointing a gun at Ms. Ågren. “Get on the ground!” 

Another officer walked in, this one pointing her gun at the man. Then another walked in, and another. 

Ms. Ågren didn’t move. “How did you find this place?”  She hissed.

“On the ground!” The officer repeated. 

Ms. Ågren huffed, slowly moving so that she was on the floor. One of the cops moved forward and cuffed her. 

“You too.” One of the officers told the man next to Logan. “On the ground.” 

The man scoffed, moving to kneel down as well. Just before he was fully on the ground, however, he suddenly reached into his coat.

He was filled with dozens of bullet holes a moment later. 

“Idiot.” Ms. Ågren snorted.

Logan’s breathing sped up. Red blood, cold hands, no breath, dead eyes-- 

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