He Kills Me, He Kills Me Not

will.”
    Hope flared in his chest. He’d come down here without any real expectations of finding anything. “There was a case about ten years ago, a woman was murdered in a motel—”
    “Anna Northwood.” She moved down the line of file cabinets, scanning the labels on the front of each one.
    “You know about that case?”
    “Of course. I pay attention around here. I’m not just a pretty face, you know.” She winked and stopped in front of one of the cabinets. “Here we are.”
    Logan stepped forward to force the drawer open but she waved him off.
    “They open much more easily when you unlock the cabinet first.”
    His face heated as she fished her keys from one of the pockets of her long, pleated skirt. It hadn’t occurred to him that the screeching cabinet he’d opened earlier was locked. He’d assumed it was rusted shut because it was so old.
    She unlocked the cabinet and pulled the drawer, which slid open on well-oiled rails without a hint of protest. She raised a brow but didn’t bother to chastise him further. Her unspoken command was clear. Next time, ask her first before infringing on her domain.
    A quick flick of her sensibly short nails across the tops of the folders and she located the one she was looking for. “Here you go.” She heaved the thick file up out of the cabinet.
    Logan took it from her and scanned the first page to confirm it was the right one. He closed the folder and leaned down to press a quick kiss against Mabel’s cheek.
    She blushed, her pale, wrinkled skin turning the bright pink of youth. “What was that for?” she said, clearing her throat and smoothing her skirt.
    Logan grinned and gave her another quick kiss. “That, my wonderful, efficient Ms. Mabel, was a thank you. May I assist you upstairs or did you have more work to do down here?”
    He offered his arm and she raised a brow before linking her arm through the crook of his elbow. Her eyes sparkled. “I don’t need your assistance, young man, but I’ll take it anyway.” She leaned forward conspiratorially. “And I’ll take another “thank you” at the top of the stairs, right in front of Mayor Montgomery’s prissy administrative assistant. Betty Lou has a terrible crush on you. I’d like to take her down a peg or two.”
    Logan laughed and led his delightfully sassy secretary toward the stairs.
    S unday was supposed to be a day of rest, but Logan was betting the serial killer he was after wasn’t resting. So he wasn’t going to rest either. After spending all day working with his team, he’d come home and secluded himself in his study. He’d begun reading through the Northwood case, several hundred pages of interviews and reports. So far he hadn’t found anything new. He’d also pored through reports and interviews from the O’Donnell case, looking for the elusive clue that would make everything come together.
    And he was also trying to forget that Amanda was in the next room.
    Living with her under the same roof had proved to be a much bigger strain than he’d expected. He was trying to ignore his body’s inconvenient response to her every time she entered a room. He wanted her, desperately, but it was so much more than that.
    She made all his protective instincts go into overdrive. He wanted to help her, keep her safe, hold her close and make sure she knew she never had to be afraid again.
    He shook his head, amazed at how quickly his thoughts could stray to Amanda. He needed to concentrate on the case. Their best lead, Frank Branson, wasn’t panning out. No one seemed to know where he was. The trucking company he worked for said he was hauling a load up to North Carolina. But he never made it to his destination. Pierce’s men were staked out, watching his apartment. Logan hoped Branson was their man, but he didn’t want to risk losing time on any other leads if Branson turned out to be innocent.
    “Are you going to work all night?”
    All thoughts of the case evaporated when Logan glanced up to see Amanda standing in the doorway to his study. She was so beautiful it hurt to look at her. He noticed she’d pulled her hair forward again, hiding half her face. He hated that she felt so self-conscious.
    He glanced at his watch, surprised to see it was so late. The sun had gone down hours ago and he hadn’t even noticed. “Sorry, I didn’t realize the time. Did you eat?” He started to get up from his chair but she waved him back down as she walked into the room.
    “You don’t have