“Casey, you know every happening in the Springs,” Logan marveled.
The gas station attendant shrugged and took the pen from Bridge Marley, who waved goodbye. “People need gas, Logan. And everybody has something going on. The two go together, I’d say.”
He signed his name. “Looks like you’re about done. Tell your mama and daddy hi for me. Gotta get to my shift at the station.”
“Will do.” Logan caught sight of Marge Strombold exiting her car. He signaled the realtor over.
“You don’t have to sign anything, Marge, but I’m looking to buy a house.”
She brightened at the prospect of a sale. “Three or four bedrooms? One-story or two? Garage or carport?”
“I’ll know it when I see it. Remember, I’m on a public servant’s salary.”
She pulled out her iPad. “You’ll make more if you win this election. You have any time open today? Say around three-thirty?”
“Only if I can bring my dog. She’s at the vet, and that’s right after I pick her up.”
“That’s no problem. We’ll go over a few properties at my office and set appointments to see the ones you like.” Marge picked up a pen from the table. “And if you’re buying a house from me, you’ve got my vote. Especially since Seth Berger’s your opponent.”
Logan laughed. “Then I’ll be sure we’ve closed before the election. See you later.”
He glanced down and saw only one more signature left before he would officially be able to enter the race. He looked back up and saw Karlyn jogging toward him. She stopped at his table.
“Almost done,” he indicated. “Not even noon yet. Want to go grab a bite?”
“No one would seat me looking and smelling like this,” she teased as she jogged in place. “Why don’t I—”
“Hey, Logan.”
He did not want to turn in the direction of that girlish voice. Beth Marie Sizemore had done everything short of flashing him since her divorce came through from her no-good, used car dealer husband. He had no interest in dating her, and Beth Marie couldn’t understand. Or wouldn’t.
Logan reluctantly turned from Karlyn. “Hello, Beth Marie. Have you met Karlyn Campbell? She’s new to the Springs.”
Beth Marie’s smoky eyes looked Karlyn up and down as she bobbed in place. “Nice to meet you.” She dismissed her and turned back to Logan. “I hear my ex-beau is running for Chief of Police. An even better idea than when you ran for Student Council president senior year. I remember—”
“Did you know Karlyn’s a famous writer?” Logan interrupted, not desiring a trip down memory lane. That was all Beth Marie seemed interested in whenever he saw her.
“Oh.” She looked blankly at him. “I don’t read.” She looked back at Karlyn. “What do you write, Carolyn?”
“It’s Karlyn. I write novels. And screenplays.”
“Huh. Well, that’s real nice,” she said as she wrote her name across the final blank of Logan’s petition. “Say, Logan, maybe after you’re through here—”
“I’ve got a million things to take care of, Beth Marie. The vet. Grocery store. Saturday errands.”
His former flame looked back at Karlyn, assessing her again. “I see. Well, call me sometime, Logan. I’d love to get together for a drink. Or . . . whatever.” She gave him a seductive smile.
Logan watched her sashay off.
Karlyn stopped moving and pursed her lips, trying to imitate Beth Marie’s sexy pout. “Since you’ve got so many errands to run, we should have lunch together some other time. Besides, Ms. Sizemore was doing more than sizing me up.”
He took her arm. “Give me a break, Karlyn. She was my girlfriend for about two weeks during junior year in high school. And that’s only because it took her that long to work her way around to me. Beth Marie nailed anything male back then. She’s been on the prowl the same way since her second divorce last year.”
He took a step closer. “I wasn’t that interested back then. I’m definitely not interested now. I have better things to occupy my mind.”
“Like winning an election? Training a stray dog?”
“Getting to know you.” His gaze held hers. “Why don’t you run home and jump in the shower? I’ll pick up some barbecue sandwiches for lunch, and then we can go shop for my nameless dog. She needs everything a dog could want, and I plan to give it to her.”
“Lucky girl. She’s found herself a sugar daddy.”
Logan exclaimed, “That’s it! Lucky!” He planted a hard, fast kiss on Karlyn. “You named my dog. Should’ve known a writer could come up with a great name.”
He liked the look in those shining green eyes of hers as Karlyn waved and took off running again.
“Lucky, it is.”
Logan brought the promised lunch by the Campbell house. When he learned Martha was out for the afternoon, he said, “To hell with the sandwiches.”
He snagged Karlyn around the waist. His lips nibbled along her ear and ventured to her neck.
“Why do I suddenly feel like I’m lunch?” she teased.
Logan’s reply was to sweep her off her feet and exit the kitchen. He headed for the stairs.
“You can tell me which bedroom is yours. Or we can do it in every bed in the house.” He gave her a knowing look. “I’ve heard this is one of the larger homes in the Springs.”
“I’m the last on the right, Detective. Let’s start there.”
He took his time, removing each piece of clothing from her slowly. Her milky skin gleamed in the sunlight that shone through the window. Logan marveled at her tight, firm, athletic body. He captured her runner’s calves in each hand and squeezed them, admiring their curves.
Karlyn’s emerald eyes burned with intensity as she looked at him. “Lose the clothes, Warner. Fast.”
He did the opposite, slowly stripping his shirt over his head. Taking his time to fold it neatly and place it in a chair. He continued to remove each item as if in slow motion, enjoying her burning gaze.
When nothing remained, he joined her on the bed. “I plan to kiss you everywhere, Miss Campbell. And if I miss a spot, let me know.
He didn’t.
While their first night together had been fast and furious each time they made love, this afternoon involved leisurely exploring her body. When he finally entered her, he forced himself to continue slow and steady. She whimpered. Begged him to speed up. He stayed the course, moving like molasses till she panted and moaned.
“Oh, Logan. Please. Please. I can’t take it anymore.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
So he increased his thrusts, moving faster and harder till he felt as if he flew through the air. Karlyn called his name as he came, her nails buried in his shoulders as they both rode through the pleasure storm.
Logan collapsed, nuzzling her neck, licking the sweet, slightly salty skin. He rolled and brought her with him so that she rested on top.
Her disheveled hair added a sexiness that he liked. He reached out and pushed it back from her contented face.
“You. Are.” She took a deep breath and let it out. “A. Mazing.” Her head fell to rest on his chest. “I don’t think I can move.”
“Good.”
Karlyn lifted her head. “That sounded like a very satisfied good.”
He grinned. “It was. Because you. Are. A. Mazing. Too.”
She slapped at him playfully. “Did you get all your signatures?”
“I did.”
“And what did the vet say about Lucky?”
“What time is it?” He reached for the wristwatch that he’d left on the nightstand. “Okay, pretty lady. We’ve got to go.” He rolled out of bed and pulled her to her feet. “We’ve got to shop for Lucky and go pick her up.”
“
I say we grab those sandwiches and eat in the car. You certainly know how to work up a girl’s appetite.”
They dressed and picked up what Lucky would need then stopped by the vet’s to claim her. Logan couldn’t wait to show the dog all the new toys she’d scored.
Karlyn remarked how pretty her fur shone after her bath and trim. Jesse Alpine assured Logan that Lucky was in decent shape despite being rail thin. He told Logan to schedule follow-up shots with Ramona, and he would take a look at Lucky’s weight then.
“Beef her up some, but no table scraps,” he warned. “Don’t start bad habits now that are impossible to break down the road.”
Ramona seemed mollified now that Lucky had a name to go on her file. She loaded Logan up with dry and canned food while Karlyn attached the new collar and leash.
Logan drove them over to Marge Strombold’s office, explaining to Karlyn how he’d decided to buy a house.
“It’s smart to put down roots,” she observed. “You have a history here, but it’ll be important to some voters to see you’re a homeowner and a taxpayer. Besides, Lucky needs a big yard to play in, don’t you, girl?” She ruffled the dog’s coat and was rewarded with a sloppy kiss.
Inside the realtor’s office, Logan introduced the women. Marge immediately recognized Karlyn’s name.
“You’re not on my good list, Karlyn,” Marge told her. “I read after your next Matt Collins book, you’re taking a break. I need my Matt fix.”
“I’ve finished a screenplay of the first novel. Maybe seeing Matt on-screen might make you happy.”
Marge sighed. “I don’t think God’s made the man that could stand up to the Matt I’ve created in my mind,” she confided.
She sat them at a round table and called up several listings. “Look through these. My associate’s drawing up papers for a closing, and I want to check on that. I’ll be back soon.”
They clicked through several listings before he stopped.
“Huh. This is the old Kinyon place.” He studied the page. “It’s about six blocks from you. The Kinyons lived into their nineties. They died within a day of each other at the end of last year.”
“You hear about that happening all the time,” Karlyn commented. “I guess the survivor is sad thinking of a life without his spouse.”
She scrolled to the specifics. “Nice size master. Three other bedrooms. You could make one into an office.” She clicked through more photos. “The eat-in kitchen is huge. But outdated.”
“I love a big kitchen,” he said. “Every good party winds up in the kitchen. And despite eating most of my meals at the diner, I like to cook.” He frowned. “It needs new floors throughout. Definitely a paint job. I’d also want to re-landscape the front.”
She smiled. “It sounds as if your heart’s set on this Kinyon house.”
He shrugged. “Let’s keep looking.”
By the time Marge returned, Logan picked out two other possibilities. All three were in his price range, even including what he might want to do to update the Kinyon property.
“You’ve made some good choices, Logan. The last two houses both have open houses tomorrow. We can hit both if you’d like.”
“When can I see the Kinyon place?”
Marge glanced at her watch. “Tell you what. I have plans with my supper group tonight. I need to get home and throw the rest of my dish together. Since it’s unoccupied, I’ll give you the keys and let you check it out on your own. We can meet back here around one tomorrow and see the other properties together.”
She pulled a set of keys from her desk drawer. “Remember, it needs updating. That’s why their son set such a reasonable price. He’s in his seventies and doesn’t want to tackle it. He wants the property off his hands.”
Logan took the offered keys. “Thanks, Marge. Enjoy dinner. We’ll see you tomorrow at one.”
He escorted Karlyn and a well-behaved Lucky back to his car.
“We?” Karlyn asked.
Logan nodded. “Definitely we. You can advise me on what I’ll need to do. I have a feeling you have pretty good taste.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “You think so?”
“Hey, you’re hanging out with me. I’d say you’re showing remarkable taste.”
Chapter 22
A voice inside his head screamed he was breaking a cardinal rule.
But why should he follow rules? He was Roy G. Biv. No one could touch him.
He looked at her again. Full-breasted. Tiny waist. A short skirt that showed plenty of thigh. Lips painted a glossy, fuck me red. She hadn’t let herself go after her divorce. If anything, she looked hotter than ever.
He’d never killed someone he knew. Not in the Rainbow Murders. Nor any of the ones before. Ever.
Could he do it? Could he get away with it?
Running into her in Atlanta was in his favor. No one would know they’d hooked up. She lived in a secluded place just south of the town limits. She’d spilled that her nearest neighbors had left on vacation.
An electric thrill ran through him. He could follow her home. It was late. No one would see him pull into her place. Or leave. He could play to his heart’s content and then head home, no one the wiser. Still meet up with his friends tomorrow. He’d pulled all-nighters before. They’d become routine since he’d started his hunts all those years ago.
Beth Marie gave him an alluring smile. He returned it. Brushed his fingers lightly against her knee. Ran his hand up her silky thigh. He couldn’t wait to be inside her. Feel her shudders. Have her watch him through heavy-lidded eyes.
And watch those eyes pop when he pulled out his piano wire and knife.
Chapter 23
Logan surveyed the madness around him coming to an end. In the course of three weeks he’d bought the Kinyon place, discussed ideas to fix it up with Karlyn, and then sweated like a working class dog to make them a reality. Yesterday and today a brigade of friends helped complete the last minute details.
Karlyn and his dad had finished the trim work and carted all the paint cans, rollers, and brushes to the garage. They returned, and Mitchell Warner surveyed things.
“When I retire, I’m becoming a painter. That is, if Karlyn partners with me.” He gave her shoulder a squeeze.
“Considering what it looked like a week ago? It looks lovely,” his mother said.
Martha Campbell chimed in, “The curtains Resa sewed make the place. I think we were right to use—”
Logan drifted away from their conversation. He’d had enough domestic talk to last a lifetime. How big were the closets? How much pantry space did he have? Should he get the sixty-gallon water heater or go larger? Should they strip the wallpaper in the dining room? It made his head hurt.
He escaped to the kitchen, where Brad washed his hands. His partner had spent hours after work helping him put in the new flooring. They’d always been friendly but rarely saw one other outside of work. He appreciated Brad’s efforts.
Logan slapped him on the back. “You did an amazing job, buddy. Karlyn claims the floors are the centerpiece of the house. I appreciate the time you spent on them.”
“Hey, everybody.”
Logan saw Mandy coming through the doorway with two huge bags. He and Brad strolled out to meet her.
“Nelda sent fried chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, green beans with bacon, and some pies. I had to leave those in the car.”
“I’ll fetch them,” Brad volunteered. “You are lookin’ good, Mandy.”
She handed the sacks to him. “Don’t flirt with me, Brad Patterson. I heard you have a hot date tonight with some ad exec you chatted up at Home Depot.”
“How’d you hear about that? I only told Resa.”
“I may have mentioned it to Nelda,” Resa said, looking guilty.
“Nelda told me,” Mandy added. “And Casey Attaway was standing there, so by now half of the Springs knows.”
They dined on paper plates provided by Nelda since Logan wouldn’t move in till next week. He owned all of two dinner plates—both chipped. He would need Karlyn’s advice on kitchenware since that had been Felicity’s domain.
Thoughts of his former life stirred up bitter feelings. Once he’d led a magical life, with a loving wife and two happy kids. But the twins were frozen at six years, thanks to Carson Miller. His marriage collapsed under the strain of their murders—and Felicity blaming him for being a cop, making her babies the target of a killer. She remarried a year after their divorce, telling Logan she couldn’t stand being alone. He’d left her that way plenty after the twins died, burying his grief in case after case.
At least Felicity had moved on. Started a new life. Logan figured it was time he did the same. He needed to leave yesterday behind and forge toward a new tomorrow. That now meant this house. Maybe a new job with new responsibilities.
Logan wondered if it would mean Karlyn, as well.
As they ate, he watched her, remembering the slightly prickly author who arrived in the Springs. Karlyn was flushed, happy, joking with everyone. She’d come out of her shell since she’d arrived in town. He hoped he’d played a small part in that transformation. He’d backed off, trying to give her some space. But pretty much every waking moment his thoughts came back to her.
He decided in that moment he had nothing to lose. He’d pursue her like a mad dog. If she said no, he wouldn’t sit around and wonder about what ifs. He believed they both deserved some happiness. With each other.
It was time to make his daydreams a reality.
Illusions of Death Page 12