He Kills Me, He Kills Me Not

“Did detective Riley tell you what he found in your bedroom?”
    “He said there were some pictures of me.”
    “There were a lot of pictures of you, hundreds, taped all over the walls.”
    “How many people know about the game the killer played with you and Dana?” Logan asked.
    “The police, of course. Dana’s father, my therapist—”
    Logan exchanged a startled glance with Pierce. “Dana’s father knows?”
    “He visited me in the hospital. He wanted to know everything that had happened to Dana. I didn’t want to tell him, but he was emphatic, said it was his right as her father to know. You seem surprised. Should I not have told him?”
    “No, no, you did the right thing,” Logan said. “That’s a detail we’ve held back from the press, and I didn’t know Branson knew. Go on. You said your therapist knows. Anyone else?”
    She frowned in concentration. “No one else I can think of. Why?”
    “Because there was a long-stemmed rose on your bed. It only had one thorn. And there was a note that said, ‘ He Kills Me, He Kills Me Not .’ ”
    Pierce took his Blackberry from the breast pocket of his suit jacket, opened it, and punched some buttons. “What’s the name of your therapist?”
    “My therapist didn’t leave that note,” she insisted.
    “His name?” Pierce repeated.
    “ Her name is Joanne Bateman. She practices out of Pensacola now.”
    Pierce glanced at her, shrugged, and typed in the name. “We’ll still check her out. Maybe there’s a tie-in.”
    “Riley,” Logan said. “Have they found anything else? Fingerprints? Witnesses?”
    “Plenty of prints on the pictures. And a neighbor next-door was getting her mail early this morning and said she saw a man dressed in blue coveralls on Amanda’s property. She thought he was the cable guy.”
    “I don’t suppose you snuck out for an appointment with the cable company?” Logan asked her.
    Her cheeks flushed red. “No.”
    “I’m on it,” Pierce said. “Which neighbor, Riley?”
    Riley told him and Pierce left the room.
    “Riley?” Logan asked, his eyes riveted on Amanda. “Now would be a good time for you to check on the men outside, make sure they’ve got the scene taped off correctly.”
    “Um, yeah, sure.” Riley left the room.
    When they were alone, Logan tried to keep in mind how Amanda had responded the last time he’d pushed her. He didn’t want to hurt her, or make her panic again, but the urge to yell at her was so strong it was making his throat ache. She’d put her life in danger by coming back here, knowing there was a killer out there, knowing the killer probably knew where she lived.
    But looking into her eyes, seeing the fear mirrored back at him, his anger quickly faded. He held out his hand, palm up, and sighed in relief when she put her hand in his. “Why did you leave my house?”
    She stared at their hands joined together, resting on the top of her thighs. “I made a complete fool of myself . . . with you. I was embarrassed and didn’t want to face you again. Besides, there wasn’t any point in staying. I told you everything I know about the case. The computer program I wrote did all it could do. There was no point in me staying any longer.”
    He gently lifted her chin until she met his gaze. “I don’t want you to leave.”
    She swallowed hard and her eyes widened. “You don’t?”
    “Not even a little.” Not wanting to make her panic again, or bring back any bad memories, he pulled back his hand, even though it practically killed him. What he really wanted to do was pull her close and protect her and chase the fear from her eyes. Instead, he tried to reassure her. “Staying at my house is safer. Only a handful of people know you’re there, and you always have a police officer with you—either me or Karen.”
    Her eyes widened, and for a moment he thought she looked disappointed. But then she smiled. “Well, there’s a lot to be said for ‘round-the-clock cops watching over you.”
    “Right,” he agreed. “I know you want to leave, get away from all of this, but I’m asking you to stay with me for a couple more days. If I don’t crack this case by then, I’ll take you to the airport myself.”
    “Why?” she asked. “Why should I stay?”
    Because I can’t imagine coming home and you not being there. Because I’m falling in love with you . He cleared his throat. “Because I may have more questions, and it’s easier to ask them in person. Plus, until this