by LENA DIAZ,
“Hush, sweetie, it’s Logan. It’s okay. You’re safe.”
She went limp against him and he scooped her up, lifting her onto his lap.
She looked up and her vision cleared. Joy filled her at the sight of his beautiful face, his alive, beautiful face. “I won,” she whispered. “I finished the game, and I won.”
“Yes, you did. You won.”
His cheeks were wet. Puzzled, she reached up her hand and wiped away the wetness. He gently pulled her hand to his lips and kissed her palm, then held it against his bristly cheek.
“You always need to shave,” she whispered.
“Hang on, baby. The ambulance is on its way. Hang on.”
“L . . . Logan,” she said. “I can’t see you anymore.”
“Oh, God.” His voice broke. “Stay with me, Mandy, hang on.”
“So c . . . cold.”
Something hot and wet splashed onto her cheek and Logan awkwardly wiped it away. “Fight, dammit. Don’t you dare leave me. I love you.”
He’d finally said those three words. Joy spread through her, but the blackness called to her again. “What took you . . . so long . . . to—”
She wanted to ask what took him so long to realize he loved her, but it took more energy than she had to finish the sentence. Her last memory would be of his beautiful voice telling her he loved her. She smiled. It was a good memory to hold and treasure as she died.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The funeral was three days later.
Nearly everyone on the police force was there, except for the skeleton staff required back at the station. A good number of the town’s citizens were in attendance as well, although they were forced to stand behind the rows of Shadow Falls’ finest, well back from the tent that covered the grave site.
Even the mayor was there. After all, it wasn’t every day a police officer was killed in the line of duty, at least not in Shadow Falls.
The color guard lifted the flag that was draped over Karen Bingham’s coffin, and slowly folded it, end over end, into the traditional triangle. The leader of the guard took the flag and neatly tucked the edges in, smoothed the wrinkles. He turned to Karen’s husband, handed him the flag. Then he lifted his white-gloved hand and saluted.
Mike cradled the flag against his chest and nodded his thanks to the young man. He jerked in surprise from the sound of gunfire. Logan put his arm around his shoulders and gently turned him to watch the next two volleys from the seven guns that made up the twenty-one-gun salute.
When it was over, the crowd began to disperse. “Karen was a good officer and a good friend,” Logan said. “We’ll all miss her.”
Mike smiled that sad, haunted smile Logan had seen far too often in the past few days as Mike shuffled back and forth from one hospital room to the next. Even though Karen had died during surgery, Mike was a constant shadow in the hospital as he waited to see whether Pierce and Amanda would be okay. He told Logan it’s what Karen would have wanted him to do.
Pierce would definitely be okay, but Amanda was still fighting for her life in ICU. The doctors didn’t know if she would ever wake up. She’d lost so much blood.
“I hear Special Agent Buchanan might be discharged tomorrow. That’s good news,” Mike said, as he walked toward his car with Logan by his side.
“Yes, sir. He wanted to be at the funeral, but the doctors wouldn’t let him leave. He also wants to stay and wrap up the investigation, but his boss sent another agent to replace him, and ordered him to go home. One of my men will drive him back to Jacksonville once he’s released.”
“He’s going to be okay, though, isn’t he?”
“He’s too stubborn to let a cracked skull slow him down.”
Mike sighed as he stopped beside the police car where an officer waited to drive him home. “You kept your promise, chief. You caught Karen’s killer. Thank you.”
He extended his hand and Logan shook it, although he felt uncomfortable accepting praise he didn’t deserve. He’d worked with Riley, trusted him, and even though Logan had some suspicions toward the end, he’d never fully accepted that Riley could be that twisted, that evil inside.
Turns out, Bennett had been far more aware of Riley’s evil than anyone else, and he’d spent his life keeping an eye on his brother. He’d never quite succeeded in helping any of Riley’s victims, but he’d tried, and if he hadn’t been half-crazy himself, he might have been able to prevent some of those deaths.
Riley had cleverly hid his tracks, falsifying HR records so his vacation days didn’t always match the dates of the murders. Pierce’s team of agents had found the evidence of his tampering only after knowing Riley was the killer. Too bad they hadn’t dug deeper before Karen and Amanda paid such a horrible price.
The police officer opened the passenger door and Mike slid into the seat, cradling the flag in his lap. The officer closed the door and Mike looked out the window, his eyes riveted on the tent that covered Karen’s grave, as the car drove away.
Logan’s cell phone vibrated again. It had vibrated several times toward the end of the funeral but he’d ignored it. He reached into the pocket of his suit jacket and pulled out the phone. The number on the screen sent a foreboding chill curling through his gut. “Richards here.”
After a brief introduction, the nurse on the phone said, “I was told to call you if Ms. Stockton’s condition changed.”
Logan swallowed the bile rising in his throat as fear clutched at his chest. “Yes? What’s wrong?”
“Oh, no, nothing’s wrong, sir. She just woke up.”
Logan paused in the doorway of Amanda’s hospital room. It was still a shock to see so many tubes and machines hooked up to her, even though he’d seen them for the past three days.
She was pale, her skin nearly translucent, and her eyes were closed. Her doctor had assured him she had indeed awakened from her coma, but that she was sleeping now. A natural sleep, not the terrifying deep sleep of a coma.
She was still connected to a ventilator, its obscene hiss the only sound in the darkened room.
He crossed to her bed and sat in the familiar chair next to it. Careful not to bend her arm and interfere with her IV, he entwined his fingers with hers and leaned down and kissed the soft skin of her hand. He listened to the rhythm of her breathing, watched the rise and fall of her chest.
She was a survivor, one of the toughest women he’d ever known. It was because of her remarkable will that she was still alive after suffering not one, but two horrible traumas in her life.
No thanks to him.
Oh, he knew people were calling him a hero, saying that even though Amanda had fired the fatal shot, if Logan hadn’t tracked her down she wouldn’t have had the gun in the first place. Riley would have killed her and he’d still be out there killing other women.
But those people didn’t know the whole story. They didn’t realize if it weren’t for him, Riley would have been caught ten years ago. Dana Branson, Carolyn O’Donnell, Karen Bingham, and five other women wouldn’t have died. Amanda wouldn’t have been attacked, wouldn’t have nearly died—twice—if he’d done his job, if he’d followed procedure.
Or if he’d listened to Amanda when she’d tried to show him her list of suspects.
So many women dead. One woman scarred for life, inside, where it mattered. Countless families torn apart.
If things were different, if Amanda could have forgiven him, he might have been able to forgive himself eventually, move on. But he’d looked deep into her eyes when he played that damn CD. He saw the devastation and the horror wash through her, watched her turn away from him, knew they would never be able to navigate the ocean of hurt that lay between them.
And then she’d said those words in the woods, words that stabbed his heart like a knife.
What took you so long?
He didn’t blame her for feeling that way, for resenting that he took so long to find the killer, to find her. She’d suffered far too much because of his failings.
He pressed a warm kiss against her fingertips and carefully laid her hand on top of the white sheet. He pulled an envelope out of his suit jacket pocket and set it on the side table next to her bed. Then he walked out of her life, and didn’t look back.
Amanda’s throat was raw, dry. When she tried to swallow it was as if someone had sandpapered her tongue.
When she’d awoken earlier, the doctor explained she had a tube down her throat, a respirator, helping her breathe. That was why her throat was so sore. It would remain in for at least another day until he felt she could breathe adequately on her own.
The doctor told her she’d been unconscious for three days, but he didn’t tell her anything else. She tried to ask him questions but couldn’t speak with the tube down her throat. When he brought her a pad of paper and a pen, she couldn’t grasp the pen to write down her questions. She was still too weak.
After giving her a sympathetic smile and assuring her she was on her way to recovery, he’d left the room, leaving her frustrated and anxious.
She wanted to know if Karen and Pierce were okay.
She wanted reassurance that Riley was really dead, because, even though she was the one who’d pulled the trigger, she still couldn’t quite believe the man who’d hurt her and killed Dana was really, finally, gone.
And she wanted Logan. She needed to see him, hold him. She needed to tell him she didn’t blame him for anything. She needed to tell him she loved him.
“Ms. Stockton?” A smiling woman in a white smock entered the room. “My name is Shelly. I’m your nurse this afternoon. It’s good to see you doing so much better. I was here when they first brought you in.”
She hung a clear plastic bag on the IV pole, replacing the empty one. “Do you need anything for pain?”
Amanda shook her head no.
The nurse patted her hand and leaned over to straighten Amanda’s pillow. “Oh, look, someone left you a card.” She held up an envelope. “It says To Amanda, From Logan. Oh, how sweet. It must be from Chief Richards. He’s been pacing the hallway and sleeping in that chair beside your bed night and day since you got here. He only left today to attend that policewoman’s funeral. Do you want me to read the card for you?”
Policewoman’s funeral? Oh, God. Karen hadn’t made it. Amanda shook her head in answer to the nurse’s question and choked back her tears.
“I understand. You want to read it in private. I’ll put it right here so you can open it when you’re ready.” She tucked the envelope on the bed next to Amanda’s hand and arranged the call button so Amanda could easily reach it. “I’ll be back in to check on you soon but if you need anything before then, you press this button, okay?”
Amanda nodded and closed her eyes, hoping Logan would come back from the funeral soon.
She needed him.
Chapter Twenty-Three
A knock sounded on Amanda’s front door, but it didn’t send a shiver of dread through her like it had before Riley was killed. She wasn’t afraid anymore. Since leaving the hospital three weeks ago, she’d certainly had her share of visitors as well as letters. The major networks had spread the story about what had happened to her all over the country. Mail had poured in from people offering her their support. One sweet, elderly lady named Sadie had even sent her a homemade apple pie.
Nearly every detective, every police officer in Shadow Falls, had dropped by to see her. They all seemed to feel responsible, at least in part, for the heinous crimes Riley had committed. He was one of their own, a brother in uniform they’d trusted and served with for years, a friend. None of them had suspected the evil that lurked inside his twisted mind.
None of them, except Logan.
Amanda couldn’t help the surge of jealousy that swept through her. Logan hadn’t spoken to her once since Riley had attacked her. But he had all the time in the world for his men. His officers had told her story after story about how Logan had drawn the police force back together in the wake of Riley’s death. The officers were a stronger team now, a family, in spite of Riley’s betrayal. It might have been Logan who’d figured out who the killer was, but he made sure the entire police department received the credit. SFPD now had a national reputation for having stopped a serial killer. Logan had ensured every man in the department felt valued and took pride in that accomplishment. He’d made each one of them feel special.
He’d made her feel special, too, once—a lifetime ago.
The knock sounded again, louder this time, followed by the doorbell. She shoved thoughts of Logan aside and gently eased herself out of her chair. A couple of Tylenol was usually enough to take away most of the pain from her injuries these days, but there was still a lingering soreness that plagued her when she put any stress on her side.
She moved as quickly as she could to the door and looked through the peephole, smiling when she saw Pierce on her front porch. Ever the vigilant FBI agent, his profile was turned toward her as he scanned the front yard. She wondered if he ever truly relaxed or if the evil he’d witnessed during his career would always haunt him. For her, the dark shadows were finally gone.
She pulled the door open and gifted him with her sunniest smile. “Pierce, it’s so good to see you. I didn’t know you were back in town.”
He stepped into the foyer and kissed her cheek. “You’re looking beautiful, as always.”
She hugged him, pleased with his compliment. He’d always accepted her and looked past the surface just as Logan had. Not that she worried about her scar anymore. But even if she did, pulling her hair forward to cover her face wasn’t an option. One of the first things she’d done after getting out of the hospital was to stop at a salon to have her hair cut off. Now her hair hung in a shoulder-length bob, just below her chin.
“Would you like some iced tea? Soda?” She started to head into the kitchen, but Pierce stopped her with a gentle hand on her shoulder.
“You don’t need to wait on me. I should be waiting on you. Can I get you anything?” The laugh lines around his eyes crinkled with concern.
“Don’t worry about me. I’m fine, just a little sore these days.”
She led him into the living room, guiding him through the maze of boxes. The only furniture left in the house was the computer desk, her office chair, and a recliner. Pierce waited for her to sit before he lowered himself into the recliner, a bittersweet reminder of when Logan had once squeezed himself into that same chair. Pierce reminded her so much of Logan that it hurt to look at him.
“I thought you’d gone home to Jacksonville weeks ago,” she said.
“I had some unfinished business so I drove back in for the day.” He eyed the stacks of boxes. “I guess that “for sale” sign in your yard should be a “sold” sign. Looks like you’re all packed up and ready to leave.”
“I’ve had a few nibbles, no firm offers yet. But I didn’t want to wait. The movers are coming tomorrow. Everything will go into storage until I find a permanent place.”
“You’re leaving tomorrow?” His brows raised in surprise.
“Actually, I’m leaving today, as soon as the taxi arrives. The plane leaves in two hours. I’m moving to Tennessee, renting a furnished apartment down the street from my sister for a couple of months. After that,” she shrugged. “Who knows?”
“Heather, right?” At her nod he continued. “I met her at the hospital. She and Madison hit it off, if I remember correctly.”
They had indeed. After finding out Amanda had an estranged sister out of town, Madison had made it her personal crusade to shame Heather into coming for a visit. When He
ather stepped into the hospital room, Madison had promptly berated her for allowing her husband to come in between her and her family. Once Heather got over her initial shock over the lecture, she and Madison had spent hours debating everything from politics to shoes. They’d enjoyed every minute of it. “They’re already planning a shopping trip to New York together. How is Madison?”
“I wouldn’t know.” His face was impassive, giving nothing away, but his voice sounded guarded, as if he didn’t want to reveal too much.
“I thought you two had a thing going?” Madison had been close-mouthed about her relationship with Pierce, but when she went out of town last week Amanda had assumed she was going to Jacksonville to see him.
He shrugged. “We went out a few times. We still talk on occasion.”
“I’m sorry it didn’t work out.” And she was. She’d hoped Madison had finally found that special someone who would see past the bubbly image she projected to the world, and heal the pain Amanda sometimes glimpsed in Madison’s eyes when she didn’t think anyone was looking.
“Don’t be. We only dated a handful of times. Neither of us had much invested in the relationship.”
She wasn’t sure she believed him, but he obviously didn’t want to pursue that topic any further, so she didn’t press. “You said you were in Shadow Falls to take care of some business?”
He adjusted his tie, suddenly looking uncomfortable. “I came back to talk to Logan.”
Amanda stiffened, no longer feeling enthusiastic about Pierce’s visit.
He sat forward, his forearms resting on his knees. “Did you know he’d resigned as chief of police?”
Surprise had her leaning forward as well, wincing when the movement tugged at her side. “Logan resigned? Why? Did he take a job somewhere else?”
“I think you know better than anyone why he quit. He feels guilty, like he failed everyone, especially you, by not stopping Riley after the first murder ten years ago.”