He Kills Me, He Kills Me Not

is . . .” He shrugged, making her wonder why he’d paused. “It feels like home. My sister and mom came down from New York a few months ago and spent a fortune of my money decorating it. They were worried I’d end up with a house full of electronics—and no furniture—if they didn’t help.”
    She smiled, picturing strong, masculine Logan Richards at the mercy of two women taking over his house. “I take it your mom and sister aren’t into gadgets?”
    “Not at all,” he said. “Unlike you.”
    Her fingers tightened around her beer bottle. “Unlike me?”
    “I noticed this morning that you have a fondness for electronics. Your TV is state-of-the-art. Your computer is top-of-the-line. Instead of a typical printer you have an all-in-one. If I had to bet, I’d say you probably have the latest cell phone with all the options, too.”
    “I don’t have a cell, actually.” Not anymore. Who would she call? “But you noticed everything else in the ten minutes you were in my living room?”
    “I noticed a lot about you this morning.”
    Her eyes widened at his comment and she took a nervous sip of her beer. When she set it back on the table, she realized he was watching her with one of those unreadable expressions again. “What?” she demanded, a little too forcefully.
    Unfazed, he said, “I guess I’m trying to figure you out.”
    A spark of panic shot through her. “There’s nothing to figure out.”
    He cocked his head. “Why did you come back to Shadow Falls when your only living relatives are in Tennessee? Did something happen between you and your sister when you stayed with her after the attack?”
    She froze at the mention of Heather. It wasn’t fair that he knew so much about her just because he was a cop. “That is none of your business,” she snapped.
    “You’re right. It isn’t.”
    Her irritation faded at his quick reply. She sighed and decided to answer his question. “I was born in Shadow Falls, spent most of my life here. My parents are buried here. It’s home.” She shrugged. “Besides, I couldn’t impose on my sister forever.” Especially when she wasn’t welcome. “When I left Tennessee, I couldn’t imagine going anywhere else, so I came here.” Besides that, Dana was here. There was no one else to visit her grave and leave fresh flowers. Amanda owed her that much.
    She pushed thoughts of Dana away and looked across the table at Richards. “What about you? Why did you move back? I remember reading about you in the newspaper when you took over from the last chief. They said you started your career here, then moved to New York. Do you have family here, or did you leave them all behind when you moved back here?”
    He grinned. “Touché. No, I don’t have family here.” His smile faded and his eyes took on a distant expression. “Everyone I care about is in New York.” He quickly finished his beer, then stood and glanced around the kitchen with the empty bottle in his hand.
    “Under the sink,” she said in answer to his unspoken question.
    He rinsed out the bottle, then opened the cabinet and tossed the bottle in the blue recycle bin. When he straightened, he looked around as if in indecision. Then his gaze met hers and he sighed. “Not that one beer is going to make someone my size impaired, but I’d rather not hit the road right after drinking one. I could spend a few minutes checking your home security if you want. It would make me feel better about you not being under police protection.”
    He didn’t look like he wanted to stay another minute in her house. As soon as he’d mentioned leaving his loved ones in New York he looked miserable. So why had he offered to check her security system? “I’ve got protection outside in an unmarked car,” she reminded him.
    “It would be better if someone stayed with you inside the house.”
    His words filled her mind with images of Logan staying in her house, watching over her, protecting her . . . sleeping on her couch. She forced the images away. He wasn’t offering to stay and protect her and she wouldn’t let him even if he did. She wasn’t willing to give up her privacy and she hadn’t decided yet if she was really staying in town, now that the killer was back.
    Part of her wanted to pack her things and get on the next plane to anywhere but here. But another part of her was just as determined not to let the killer chase her away again. She’d worked so hard to rebuild her life. She didn’t want to