He Kills Me, He Kills Me Not

to relive that horrific experience didn’t sit well with him, but finding the killer before he could kill again was more important than sparing anyone’s feelings. She’d been with her attacker for three days. Even though the killer had worn a disguise, Amanda had to have seen something that could help identify him. She could hold the key to the entire investigation without even realizing it.
    A knock sounded on Logan’s open office door, and one of the detectives helping him search for Amanda leaned in around the doorway, his eyes lit with excitement.
    “Chief, I found her.”

 
     
    Chapter Two
     
    A manda woke up Monday morning to the sound of someone knocking on her front door. Blinking in confusion, she looked around to get her bearings. Fireplace, computer desk in the corner, traditional, sturdy coffee table with chunky, solid legs. She’d fallen asleep on her living room couch.
    She was amazed she’d slept at all after watching yesterday’s press conference, then speaking to the police when they’d called her late last night. They’d confirmed what she’d already suspected, that the man who’d attacked her was most likely back, here in Shadow Falls. They’d wanted to send a police car to her house to stand watch over her, but she’d adamantly refused. Her house was a fortress. She was safe here. But only if no one drew any attention to her. A police car out front would destroy the anonymity—and therefore safety—that she’d worked so hard to create.
    The knock sounded again, startling her. She jumped up and hurried down the hallway to her bedroom to grab her robe, figuring Mrs. Fogelman was probably back to hound her again about the upcoming neighborhood block party. Short of being rude, Amanda didn’t know how to convince the well-meaning woman to give up her personal crusade to get Amanda out of the house and involved in the neighborhood.
    Back in the foyer, she looked through the front door’s peephole and was dismayed to see two men in business suits standing on her porch. The one on the left held up a police badge. She couldn’t get a good look at the other man since he was too far to the right.
    Apparently the police weren’t willing to take “no” for an answer. She pulled some of her hip-length hair forward over her shoulder to help conceal her scar. Then she flipped the deadbolt and yanked the door open. “Yes?”
    The blonde man holding a badge flinched and his eyes widened. Amanda tried not to let it bother her, but no matter how many times people reacted to the sight of her scar, it still hurt. She forced herself to resist the impulse to pull more hair forward or duck her head.
    He lowered his badge and cleared his throat. “Good morning, ma’am. I’m Detective David Riley and this is Chief Logan Richards. Are you Amanda Stockton?”
    She looked over at Richards and a shock of awareness pulsed through her. Most women would think his tanned, chiseled features and broad shoulders were appealing, and she was no exception. But that wasn’t what caught her attention. Given his intimidating size and the piercing way he stared at her, she would have expected to feel uncomfortable, anxious. But she didn’t. There was something indefinable about him—a presence, an intensity—as if he were aware of everything around him, on guard against any threat. Instead of making her uneasy, he made her feel . . . protected. As if no one could hurt her as long as he was here.
    Confused by her reaction to him, she tore her gaze away and looked back at the other man who, although not unattractive, seemed bland compared to Richards.
    “Detective Riley, I’m sure you’ve seen my picture in your files. You know I’m Amanda Stockton, or at least, I was. I moved to Tennessee with my sister and changed my last name to Jones before I moved back to Shadow Falls two years ago. I explained all of that last night to the officer on the phone. I also told him I wasn’t interested in speaking to anyone about my case again. Unless you’re here to tell me you’ve caught the killer?”
    “Uh, no, ma’am. Not yet.”
    She stepped back and started to close the door.
    The police chief stepped forward and slapped his palm against the door, preventing her from closing it. He anchored his left shoe in the doorway. Amanda took perverse pleasure in squeezing the door against his foot before she was forced to open the door beneath his relentless pressure. He stopped short of forcing his way inside and