He Kills Me, He Kills Me Not

shooting range every day for months, insisting I needed to learn to defend myself after . . . what happened.”
    “Sounds like a decent guy.”
    “He wasn’t.”
    Logan’s head snapped up. He slowly lowered the oil rag in his hand. “What do you mean?”
    “When I moved to Tennessee I never planned on coming back here. Heather, my sister, is the only family I have. I wanted to stay with her, maybe buy my own house and move down the street once I was back on my feet. Her husband made that impossible.”
    Logan’s eyes narrowed. “Did he hurt you?”
    She shook her head. “He didn’t try to force himself on me, if that’s what you mean. He made it very clear that he wanted to sleep with me, but he never touched me.” She shivered and rubbed her arms. “Can we go back now? It’s getting kind of creepy out here with the sun going down.”
    “I’d like to meet your brother-in-law someday.” Logan stowed the gun and cleaning kit beneath the seat and crossed to the captain’s chair.
    “Why would you want to meet him?”
    “He needs a lesson in manners.”
    Amanda grinned as Logan eased the boat forward through the small channel. Wouldn’t John be surprised if Logan showed up at his house! She’d like to see that.
    The waterway suddenly widened and curved to the right. Logan gunned the engines, sending the boat racing back toward his property. By the time they were within sight of the dock, the moon was out, and the sun had long ago sunk beneath the horizon.
    Expecting him to bring the boat on in, she was surprised when he cut the engines again and let the boat drift lightly on the current.
    At her questioning glance, he sat back in his seat next to hers and raked a hand through his hair. “I wanted you to enjoy yourself, get your mind off everything going on. But I need to tell you something before you hear it on the news or from Karen in the morning.”
    A sick feeling settled in her stomach. “Tell me what? Has there been another murder?”
    “No, thankfully, not that. We arrested Frank Branson today.”
    “Dana’s father?”
    He nodded.
    “Why?”
    “He’s the one who left the rose and pictures at your house, and mailed you the threatening note.”
    “Are you sure?”
    “Positive. He wasn’t good at covering his tracks. Even if we didn’t have fingerprints tying him to the pictures, we found the receipt for roses at his apartment. The paper the note was written on matched a pad of paper in his truck. And on top of all that there was a witness. Your neighbor, Mrs. Fogelman, identified him as the man she saw outside your house.”
    She brushed her long hair back from her face. “Why would he do that? Is it because he blames me for Dana’s death?”
    “If Pierce and Riley are to be believed, it’s because he’s the killer.”
    She laughed. From the look on his face she guessed that wasn’t the reaction he’d expected. “You can’t be serious. I know the man who attacked me was wearing a hood, but his body type was nothing like Frank Branson’s. There’s no way he could be the killer.”
    “Pierce seems to think you wouldn’t be able to judge the killer’s height accurately.”
    “Because I was on my back most of the time?”
    He grimaced. “Yeah, that pretty much sums it up.”
    “Well, that’s just stupid. I can tell if someone is tall or short even without standing next to him. Even if I were off a few inches, there’s no way he’s the killer.”
    “Maybe, maybe not. Riley and Pierce are convinced he’s their man.”
    “And you’re not?”
    He shook his head. “No. I don’t think Branson is the killer.”
    “Good. I know you’ll figure out who he is and you’ll catch him. If anyone can, you can.”
    His gaze shot to hers. “Thank you.”
    She smiled. “You’re welcome. I’m relieved it was Mr. Branson who left the notes, though. At least I know the real killer isn’t the one who was stalking me.” Her smile faded. “Poor Mr. Branson. He came to see me at the hospital after Dana’s death. He wanted to know anything I could tell him about Dana’s last days.” She rubbed her hands up and down her arms, suddenly feeling chilled in spite of the hot summer night air. “He was really angry with me. I think he believes if I hadn’t escaped, Dana would still be alive.”
    “It’s not your fault. You know she would have been killed regardless of what you did, don’t you?”
    She shrugged. “Probably. I don’t guess I’ll ever know for sure.”
    He