He Kills Me, He Kills Me Not

judgment.”
    “I’m thinking more clearly than I’ve ever thought in my life. I know exactly what needs to be done now, finally.”
    “At least tell me what you were writing. I can’t read your chicken scratches.” Pierce turned his head sideways to try to read the notes on the yellow piece of paper. “That looks like an address.”
    Logan handed him the paper. “It is. Anna Northwood grew up thirty minutes from here in a rural area called Summerville. Her parents moved to Pensacola when she was fifteen. The police never interviewed anyone in Summerville. They didn’t think they needed to look back that far, since she was twenty-three at the time of her death.”
    “They had no reason to believe the killer was someone from her past,” Pierce said.
    “Anna Northwood didn’t have long hair when she was murdered. But I’ll bet she did when she was younger, the first time she and the killer crossed paths. We’re going to Summerville.”
    “B ut why are you taking me to the safe house, Karen?” Amanda clutched the armrest and tried not to give in to the anguish roiling inside her. “I thought Pierce was going to take me. Where is Logan?”
    She took a deep breath and tried to calm down. After hearing that horrible music, she’d panicked and run upstairs to escape the images running through her mind. By the time she’d calmed down, Pierce and Logan were gone. A few minutes later, Karen had ushered her into an unmarked car. Now Karen was driving Amanda down Interstate 10 with two more policemen following in the car behind them.
    “Logan will explain everything later,” Karen assured her. “He said he had an important lead and Pierce insisted on going with him.” She glanced over at Amanda. “Don’t worry. We’re almost there. Once we get to the motel, the officers will continue on so they don’t bring attention to us. An FBI agent is waiting in the motel room.”
    Worried? Was she worried? Yes, but not about the safe house. She was worried about Logan. He’d looked so devastated right before she ran from the room. She shouldn’t have run— wouldn’t have—except she’d been so scared she hadn’t stopped to think about what running out of the room would do to him.
    She knew how it must have looked: as if she blamed him for not capturing the killer when he’d had the chance, the same one who’d attacked her years later. His guilt over what he thought of as his rookie mistake had haunted him for a decade. She couldn’t imagine how he must be hurting, now that he realized the same killer he’d let go was the one who’d attacked her, the same one after her now.
    She had to tell him she didn’t blame him. Because she didn’t, not even for a second. He’d had no way of knowing who was in that van, or the consequences of letting the driver go. The only person to blame for everything that had happened was the driver of that van, and the choices he’d made.
    “I have to speak to Logan. Can I borrow your phone?”
    “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Why don’t you give me a message, and I’ll see that he gets it once I’m back in Shadow Falls.”
    “I just need to talk to him for a few seconds. Please. ”
    Karen’s brow furrowed and she shook her head as she checked her mirrors. “I’m really sorry, but I can’t let you do that. Logan left me strict instructions to make sure you were safe. One of those instructions was to avoid using my cell phone while I was transporting you.”
    “And you always do what Logan tells you to do?” Amanda said, frustration and sarcasm heavy in her voice.
    “Always.”
    Amanda fisted her hands beside her as Karen turned the car down the next exit. A few turns later and they were in the parking lot of what appeared to be an exclusive condominium complex. Each condo had a separate entrance, with decorative wrought-iron gates.
    The two officers in the patrol car behind them waved as they turned around and headed back toward the interstate, back toward Shadow Falls.
    Karen slowed the car and rolled her window down. “This place is huge. Help me find building ten.”
    Amanda looked out her window trying to find the numbers that would tell them which building was which. She felt a rush of relief as she saw the one-zero painted on the side of the building to their right. “Over here, Karen. I think we just passed it.”
    Karen leaned over to look out Amanda’s window. “Damn. They never put addresses where they’re easy to find, do they?”