by LENA DIAZ,
Pierce finally pushed his chair back and stood. “I appreciate your patience with our questions, Ms. Stockton. You’ve been a tremendous help.”
“I have?” She didn’t think she’d given them anything new.
“You’ve filled in gaps in the reports I’ve read. If you want to come back and talk again, please do so. I’d like another opportunity to question you further, when you’re ready.”
Meaning, when she was ready to talk about what her attacker had done to her, not just the events surrounding her abduction. He left the room, leaving the door open behind him.
“You did a great job,” Logan said.
She ignored the little rush of pleasure his praise sent through her, especially since he was just being polite. Nothing she’d told them seemed like anything new or significant, even though she’d tried her best to think of any details she might have missed before. “I’m sorry I couldn’t answer the questions you really wanted me to answer. I wanted to. I really tried, but I . . .” Her voice trailed off and she looked up at him, frustrated at her inability to face her fears.
“It took tremendous courage to come here, and even more to put up with our badgering.”
Courage? She didn’t agree, but it felt good to have someone talk to her like she mattered. Until she’d met him, she hadn’t realized how much she’d missed interacting with other people, or how much that bothered her. Other than going to the post office or to the occasional store when she absolutely couldn’t get what she needed delivered to her house, she was always alone.
“Why are you frowning? The inquisition is over,” he teased as they both stood.
“I didn’t mean to. I was just thinking.” She was thinking about how she’d still feel just as guilty when she got home as she did now, since she hadn’t really helped with the investigation. She hadn’t had the courage to help Dana when it mattered most, but maybe there was something else she could do, some way to help catch Dana’s killer. “I’d still like to help, somehow.”
Logan’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “You want to help with the investigation?”
“Absolutely. I’m great with computers. Is there something along those lines you need? Maybe I could help catalog the case files into a database, index them, build an algorithm to cross-check interviews for commonalities, look for patterns, something like that.”
“You could do that?” Pierce called out from the doorway. He glanced at Logan. “Sorry for interrupting. I came back to tell you Riley has a new lead: a friend of Carolyn’s who might have remembered someone suspicious hanging around a couple of weeks before she was abducted.”
“Someone local?” Logan asked.
“No, someone at FSU. Riley took Clayton with him. They’re driving up to Tallahassee now. Should be back by morning.”
“Sounds good.” Logan turned back to Amanda, a thoughtful look on his face. “Most of the data is already in a database, but that algorithm you mentioned might be useful. How long would it take to build something like that?”
“Not long, depending on the kind of computer system you have, and depending on the amount of data. A day or two, at most. If I can remote in from home, use my own equipment, I could get it done faster.”
“Sounds like a great idea,” Pierce said. “Nelson could show her the files and how they’re organized right now. He’s the closest thing to a computer expert on my team. And you could give her an overview of the investigation.”
“Not so fast,” Logan said. “Can you give us a minute?” He stared pointedly at the door.
Pierce looked reluctant to leave, but he nodded. “I’ll be in the main conference room.” He stepped outside, closing the door behind him with a sharp click.
“Why are you doing this?” Logan asked.
“What do you mean? I told you, I want to help.”
“I know what you said, but I also know what happened when you saw those photographs. The data, as you called it, is just as graphic as those pictures. I’m not so sure that letting you read the reports is a good idea.”
She straightened her shoulders, not at all pleased with the impression she’d obviously given him. He probably thought she was weak. She really couldn’t blame him since he’d seen her at her worst from the moment he’d met her. Was she weak? Perhaps, in some ways, but she truly believed she could help if he’d only let her. “I wasn’t prepared before. I am now. I can handle it.”
He looked skeptical, like he didn’t believe her, but she could tell he wanted to.
Irritation had her clenching her fists. “Look,” she said. “I want to find Dana’s killer as much as you do. After the attack, I kind of . . . checked out. It took a long time for me to get to a place where I could really function again. And when you came to my house the other day, I was still getting over the shock of finding out the man who’d attacked me was back in town. But I’m over that now. I’m really okay. And I’m the best damn programmer around. Please, let me do this one thing. Let me help you find Dana’s killer before he kills someone else.”
His lips twitched and his mouth curved up in a half-smile. “The best damn programmer around, huh?”
She couldn’t help but respond to his smile with one of her own. “The very best.”
“All right. You’ve convinced me.” He opened the door. “Let’s go see Agent Nelson.”
“Are you hungry?” Logan asked.
Since he and Amanda were the only ones in his office, she had to assume he was talking to her. Was he asking her out? Dread pooled in her stomach even as her pulse leaped with excitement. The sound of crinkling paper made her realize she was crushing the computer printout in her lap. She smoothed out the paper and looked across the desk at Logan, not sure what to say.
He held both his hands up as if to stop any crazy thoughts going through her head. “I’m not asking you out on a date. I thought you might want a bite to eat since it’s getting late. My treat, to thank you for putting up with the interrogation earlier, and for agreeing to help organize all this mess.” He pointed to the printouts of files they’d both been poring over in preparation for her to start working online with all the information.
“I promised to take some evidence to the sheriff in Okaloosa County this afternoon to pay back a favor.” He stood and shrugged into the jacket he’d hung on the back of his chair. “You could go with me and we could stop somewhere out of the way for dinner, somewhere private where you don’t have to worry about being recognized.”
Relief flooded through her that he wasn’t asking her out. At the same time, a flash of disappointment shot through her. Why? Hadn’t she already told herself she couldn’t deal with a relationship right now? She glanced at her watch, surprised to see she’d been at the police station for the better part of the day. The sunlight coming in through the lone window in Logan’s small office was already fading. “I should get back home, start working on that algorithm.”
He looked like he wanted to argue, but then he shrugged and took the pile of papers from her, setting them on the desk. “Maybe some other time.” He opened the door and waited for her, then accompanied her to the elevator. When he stepped inside next to her she glanced up questioningly.
“You didn’t think I’d let you walk to your car alone, did you? I have to make sure my best computer programmer stays safe,” he teased.
She smiled and looked down, clasping her hands together. As they’d walked next to each other from his office to the elevator, she’d actually forgotten about the killer. She’d allowed herself the fantasy of pretending she was a normal woman walking next to a handsome man who was interested in her. The reality was far less appealing, far less flattering. There really was a killer out there, probably looking for her. And the man next to her probably only seemed interested in her because she might know something that would help with his investigation.
So why not have dinner with him? It wasn’t a date, so there wouldn’t be any awkward dating conversation or pressure on her to say something interesting. And eve
n though she loved to cook, she remembered the days when she’d enjoyed the occasional meal out, trying new dishes, watching the people around her. She wasn’t a hermit by nature, only necessity.
Logan would keep her safe. So why not come out of her shell for an hour or two? She could fantasize that she was normal, that she hadn’t been forced to change her entire life, and that she didn’t have to live in fear. For a few hours, the fantasy would actually be true.
When the elevator opened they stepped into the lobby of city hall. The women they passed aimed admiring glances at Logan but he seemed immune, as if he didn’t even notice them. Amanda ducked her head, letting her hair cover her scar. But she couldn’t resist a secret, gloating smile that the other women were probably jealous of her because of the incredibly appealing man next to her.
They exited through the front doors and turned left toward the parking lot on the side of the building. They went down the steps and she said in a rush, “I guess I could spare the time for a drive and dinner.” When she risked a quick glance up at him he was smiling.
“Good,” he said. “I’ll get one of the detectives to bring down the boxes I need to take to Okaloosa. Mind if we take my car?”
“I don’t want you to have to come back here for my car later. I’ll just follow you.”
“I won’t have to come back. We can take my car and one of my men can drive your car to your house.” He waved at someone in the parking lot and she realized the white Crown Victoria that was normally sitting on her street was now sitting in the parking lot. Two men had just reached the car, probably because they’d been inside the building all this time watching her, without her knowing. Logan waved them over.
“I didn’t even know they’d followed me here.” Amanda was vaguely alarmed that she hadn’t noticed them trailing behind her to the station this morning, but she was also impressed that they were able to tail her car without her noticing.
Logan grinned. “Maybe I won’t have to fire them after all.”
Amanda shouldn’t have to live in fear, afraid to step outside because the killer might find her. That was no way to live. Logan had hoped to put her at ease by choosing an out-of-the-way diner, several miles outside of town. So far she was anything but relaxed.
She chewed on her bottom lip while she read the laminated menu. Even though her back was to the rest of the diner and only Logan could see her face, she kept playing with her hair, finger-combing it over her scar.
He sighed. “Do you want to go somewhere else?”
She glanced up, her eyes wide and questioning. “Why?”
“You seem uncomfortable.”
“No more uncomfortable than I would be anywhere else. I haven’t been to a restaurant since I moved back from Tennessee.”
Stunned, he looked back down at his menu as he tried to digest what she’d just said. She’d moved back from Tennessee two years ago. In all that time, she’d never been out to eat? That must mean she hadn’t dated either, since going out to eat was the main thing people did on first dates. Did that mean she didn’t have any friends? Was she totally alone, with no one to talk to? Hoping he was wrong, he probed for more information. “What do you and your friends do for fun?”
She chewed her bottom lip again and flipped the menu over as if she were suddenly interested in the senior specials listed on the back. “I keep busy . . . with work and all. I . . . watch movies a lot.”
At home. On TV. Even without her saying it, he knew that’s what she meant. He noted the tension in her shoulders, the way her knuckles whitened as she held the menu.
She didn’t have any friends. She probably never went anywhere unless she absolutely had to. The only reason for her to seclude herself that way was if she was scared to go out.
Logan suddenly felt like kicking himself. He was the world’s biggest jerk. He’d pressured her to do something that seemed ordinary to him, but to her was probably like climbing Mount Everest. All because of his selfish desires, both for the information she could provide and the enjoyment of her company. She was a beautiful and intriguing woman. He liked her, too damn much. He’d allowed his feelings to blind him to hers.
He studied her posture. Embarrassed, uncomfortable, but not scared. Maybe he could still salvage the evening for her. If he could help her have a good time, maybe she wouldn’t regret her decision to come to the station or to drive with him out of town.
And maybe he wouldn’t feel like such an ass.
Amanda stood just inside her kitchen while Logan lounged in the doorway that led to the carport, one shoulder resting against the doorjamb.
“I had a wonderful time,” she said. She cringed inside as she realized how intimate that had sounded. She looked down at the floor.
“Amanda?”
“Yes?” she said, still unable to look him in the eyes.
“I had a wonderful time, too.”
Surprise had her meeting his gaze again. He was smiling and she couldn’t help but smile back. He raised his hand as if to touch her face, and she stiffened before she could stop herself. His smile turned sad and he lowered his hand.
Amanda died a little bit inside, wishing she could take back her automatic reaction. He’d touched her at the station, put his arms around her after she’d seen those horrible pictures. She hadn’t flinched then. Why had she flinched now?
“Thanks for coming to the station today,” he said, smiling that sad smile. “And thank you for having dinner with me. If you have any trouble accessing the station’s computer system from home, let me know. Or if you just want to talk, my offer of a shoulder is always open.”
Before she could respond, he turned away. She shut the kitchen door, set the alarm, and trudged into her living room. Collapsing onto the couch, she wondered what would have happened if she’d let him touch her. Did he really have feelings for her apart from his desire to know more about her abduction? Would he have run his thumb across her lower lip the way he’d run his thumb over the cloth napkin that day in her kitchen? Would he have slid his hand behind her neck and pulled her forward for a kiss?
For the past few years she’d convinced herself she didn’t need anyone else, didn’t need to feel the touch of another human being. All she needed was to be safe. But meeting Logan had reawakened a part of her she’d forgotten ever existed.
She rose from the couch and paced back and forth in front of the fireplace. Her entire body shook and her hands fisted at her sides. She couldn’t think straight, couldn’t focus with so many thoughts and emotions pulsing through her.
A nameless, faceless killer had stolen so much from her, far more than she’d realized until now. She’d thought she’d won with her little victories. She continued to wear her hair long just to prove the killer’s obsession with her long hair hadn’t forced her to cut it. She’d learned self-defense, how to shoot a gun, how to use knives. Her home was safe, secure—a place where no one could hurt her.
Lies. They were all pathetic lies. She’d lied to herself, told herself she was in control, but all along the killer was in control. He was the one with the power. He’d destroyed her life, made her cower in fear, and forced her to give up everything and everyone that mattered. Somehow, she had to make a change. She couldn’t let him win anymore.
She stopped pacing and hurried back into the kitchen where she’d left her purse. The yellow sticky note with her user ID and password beckoned her like a beacon of hope. She grabbed the Post-it and hurried back to her computer.
No more lies, no more excuses. It was time to take her life back. It was time to catch a killer.
Chapter Six
“They have temps for this, you know.” Pierce flicked a ball of dust and hair from his suit jacket in disgust. “I still don’t see why we have to search through this nasty warehouse ourselves, especially before breakfast.” He shed his jacket and laid it over a partially shredded leather chair that used to decorate the city hall lobby.
Logan decided not to tell him the chair wasn’t shredded fr
om age. It had been shredded by rats. He exchanged a grin with Riley and tossed another box marked “Miscellaneous” onto the growing stack in the middle of the concrete floor. Both men were enjoying seeing the city-slicker Fed acclimate himself to a rural town and all its charms.
“Just be glad we didn’t stumble across any gator nests this close to the swamp.” Logan tossed another box, enjoying the alarmed look that flashed across Pierce’s face. “Besides, every cent of my budget is going to this case right now. I’m not going to waste precious resources hiring a temp for something that will only take a couple of hours. And I sure as hell am not pulling your team or mine from the investigation for this.”
Riley grunted as he tried to move one of the heavier boxes marked “City Hall.” Pierce helped him, and together they heaved the box back several feet.
“Chief.” Riley motioned toward the stack of smaller boxes that were now revealed. “I think we’re in the right spot. These boxes are labeled “Police Archives.”
Logan straightened and wiped sweat from his forehead. “Do they have any categories? Dates?”
“Nope.”
“We’ll have to look through all of them then. How many boxes total?”
“Four here.” Riley braced a hand against the concrete wall and leaned around the boxes to see the others stacked behind them. “At least ten more over here with the same label.”
Pierce threw up his hands. “Haven’t you people ever heard of computers? Or Sharpies to write meaningful labels on the boxes? Your filing system sucks.”
Logan laughed as he helped Riley lift the desired boxes and start a new stack next to one of the old, discarded conference tables they’d set up when they arrived. “I agree. But we’re still going to look through all of these boxes.”