He Kills Me, He Kills Me Not

truck driver, with the aid of some firemen, began pulling the two vehicles apart. “But you don’t think that’s what happened.”
    “Do you still think Branson is the killer?”
    “No. I don’t,” Pierce said.
    “Earlier today you were adamant that we had the right man.”
    Pierce raised a brow. “Is this where you say I told you so? Even I can’t swallow a coincidence this big. We arrest a man for the killings, and he just happens to be involved in a traffic accident and is able to escape? Nope. Not buying it. I’ll lay a hundred to one odds the Explorer is stolen and it was driven by the real killer.”
    “There’s hope for you after all.”
    Pierce gave him a good-natured shove. “We’re back to ground zero. Branson’s either dead or will be soon, and we don’t have any leads on the real killer’s identity.”
    “We know more about him than we did before,” Logan countered.
    “Such as?”
    “He probably saw the press conference and didn’t want someone else taking credit for his kills. He may not want to be caught, but he doesn’t want someone else taking the glory, either. That’s why he took Branson.”
    Pierce raised a brow. “Are you suggesting we bait a trap?”
    “That’s exactly what I’m suggesting. Use his ego against him. We can make a fake arrest, announce we’ve caught the real killer. Can you bring in a Fed to play the role of our suspect?”
    “I can. We’ll have to work out the logistics, how to leak his whereabouts without being too obvious. Set up a stakeout. It’s worth a shot.”
    Logan nodded. “I’ll leave the details to you. I’ve got to go to the hospital to check on my officers.” He stopped and looked around. “Have you seen Riley anywhere? He should have been here by now.”
    “I heard he called the station, said he couldn’t make it. Car trouble.”
    Logan frowned. Riley’s car was practically brand new. What kind of car trouble would he have?

 
     
    Chapter Fifteen
     
    A fter spending the entire night at the hospital, sitting in the waiting room with the families of the two police officers who’d been hurt, Logan took a quick nap at home. Then he showered and headed back to the office. Other than a quick greeting, he didn’t get a chance to speak to Amanda.
    He knew it bothered her, especially after the way he’d left her so abruptly after that scorching kiss last night, but it couldn’t be helped. He went back to the hospital and stayed until he was certain both his men were going to be okay. Then he went to the station for a full day of meetings, reviewing interviews and evidence, brainstorming with his men, trying to find a new angle. The elusive clue he needed to make the puzzle pieces fit seemed to be just beyond his reach.
    There were only a handful of lights on in the house by the time he got home. Karen met him at the door, and after a quick report about her day watching over Amanda, she rushed to her car to get home to her husband. Logan felt guilty for keeping her so late and decided he’d ask her tomorrow if she wanted to switch bodyguard duties with someone else for a while.
    He flipped the deadbolt on the French doors and set the alarm, then leaned back against the wall. He blew out a frustrated breath and closed his eyes.
    “You look tired.”
    Logan slowly opened his eyes at the sound of Amanda’s soft voice. Then he promptly forgot how to breathe.
    She stood in the opening to the breakfast nook wearing one of his dress shirts. It hung to mid-thigh. The sleeves were rolled up to keep from flopping over her wrists. The thin material clung to her breasts. Logan’s mouth went dry when he saw the dark shadows of her nipples thrusting against the fabric.
    His eyes dipped lower and it was all he could do not to rush forward and carry her off like a conquering barbarian when he saw the slightest hint of a shadow at the juncture of her thighs.
    “I hope you don’t mind me wearing one of your shirts. I need to do laundry and ran out of night gowns.”
    Logan reluctantly dragged his gaze up to meet her eyes. He had to clear his throat twice before he could speak. “You can wear anything of mine you want.” Wear me .
    She frowned and looked away, crossing her arms over her breasts. “I didn’t get to see you much today. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
    He silently cursed himself for staring at her. He’d obviously made her nervous, and that was the last thing he wanted to do. Having her panic or be afraid of him