Illusions of Death (11 page)

He escorted Karlyn and a well-behaved Lucky back to his car.

“We?” Karlyn asked.

Logan nodded. “Definitely we. You can advise me on what I’ll need to do. I have a feeling you have pretty good taste.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “You think so?”

“Hey, you’re hanging out with me. I’d say you’re showing remarkable taste.”

Chapter 22

A voice inside his head screamed he was breaking a cardinal rule.

But why should he follow rules? He was Roy G. Biv. No one could touch him.

He looked at her again. Full-breasted. Tiny waist. A short skirt that showed plenty of thigh. Lips painted a glossy, fuck me red. She hadn’t let herself go after her divorce. If anything, she looked hotter than ever.

He’d never killed someone he knew. Not in the Rainbow Murders. Nor any of the ones before. Ever.

Could he do it? Could he get away with it?

Running into her in Atlanta was in his favor. No one would know they’d hooked up. She lived in a secluded place just south of the town limits. She’d spilled that her nearest neighbors had left on vacation.

An electric thrill ran through him. He could follow her home. It was late. No one would see him pull into her place. Or leave. He could play to his heart’s content and then head home, no one the wiser. Still meet up with his friends tomorrow. He’d pulled all-nighters before. They’d become routine since he’d started his hunts all those years ago.

Beth Marie gave him an alluring smile. He returned it. Brushed his fingers lightly against her knee. Ran his hand up her silky thigh. He couldn’t wait to be inside her. Feel her shudders. Have her watch him through heavy-lidded eyes.

And watch those eyes pop when he pulled out his piano wire and knife.

Chapter 23

Logan surveyed the madness around him coming to an end. In the course of three weeks he’d bought the Kinyon place, discussed ideas to fix it up with Karlyn, and then sweated like a working class dog to make them a reality. Yesterday and today a brigade of friends helped complete the last minute details.

Karlyn and his dad had finished the trim work and carted all the paint cans, rollers, and brushes to the garage. They returned, and Mitchell Warner surveyed things.

“When I retire, I’m becoming a painter. That is, if Karlyn partners with me.” He gave her shoulder a squeeze.

“Considering what it looked like a week ago? It looks lovely,” his mother said.

Martha Campbell chimed in, “The curtains Resa sewed make the place. I think we were right to use—”

Logan drifted away from their conversation. He’d had enough domestic talk to last a lifetime. How big were the closets? How much pantry space did he have? Should he get the sixty-gallon water heater or go larger? Should they strip the wallpaper in the dining room? It made his head hurt.

He escaped to the kitchen, where Brad washed his hands. His partner had spent hours after work helping him put in the new flooring. They’d always been friendly but rarely saw one other outside of work. He appreciated Brad’s efforts.

Logan slapped him on the back. “You did an amazing job, buddy. Karlyn claims the floors are the centerpiece of the house. I appreciate the time you spent on them.”

“Hey, everybody.”

Logan saw Mandy coming through the doorway with two huge bags. He and Brad strolled out to meet her.

“Nelda sent fried chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, green beans with bacon, and some pies. I had to leave those in the car.”

“I’ll fetch them,” Brad volunteered. “You are lookin’ good, Mandy.”

She handed the sacks to him. “Don’t flirt with me, Brad Patterson. I heard you have a hot date tonight with some ad exec you chatted up at Home Depot.”

“How’d you hear about that? I only told Resa.”

“I may have mentioned it to Nelda,” Resa said, looking guilty.

“Nelda told me,” Mandy added. “And Casey Attaway was standing there, so by now half of the Springs knows.”

They dined on paper plates provided by Nelda since Logan wouldn’t move in till next week. He owned all of two dinner plates—both chipped. He would need Karlyn’s advice on kitchenware since that had been Felicity’s domain.

Thoughts of his former life stirred up bitter feelings. Once he’d led a magical life, with a loving wife and two happy kids. But the twins were frozen at six years, thanks to Carson Miller. His marriage collapsed under the strain of their murders—and Felicity blaming him for being a cop, making her babies the target of a killer. She remarried a year after their divorce, telling Logan she couldn’t stand being alone. He’d left her that way plenty after the twins died, burying his grief in case after case.

At least Felicity had moved on. Started a new life. Logan figured it was time he did the same. He needed to leave yesterday behind and forge toward a new tomorrow. That now meant this house. Maybe a new job with new responsibilities.

Logan wondered if it would mean Karlyn, as well.

As they ate, he watched her, remembering the slightly prickly author who arrived in the Springs. Karlyn was flushed, happy, joking with everyone. She’d come out of her shell since she’d arrived in town. He hoped he’d played a small part in that transformation. He’d backed off, trying to give her some space. But pretty much every waking moment his thoughts came back to her.

He decided in that moment he had nothing to lose. He’d pursue her like a mad dog. If she said no, he wouldn’t sit around and wonder about what ifs. He believed they both deserved some happiness. With each other.

It was time to make his daydreams a reality.

“Any other plans for the house, Logan?” his dad asked, dragging him back to those gathered. “Besides giving this sweet girl a place to run herself ragged.” He patted Lucky’s head and slipped her a bite of chicken.

“Some landscaping while the weather’s good so things’ll take root. And replacing the fence since it’s in bad shape.”

Karlyn laughed. “Oh, he’s got more plans. He wants to build a deck. He’s also got his eye on a monster gas grill at Costco.”

Brad whooped. “Beer and BBQ. That’s what makes the South what it is. Add football in the mix, and it’s even better.”

“What about the master bath, Logan?” his mother asked. “Karlyn said you had plans to rip out the tub.”

He nodded. “That’ll come later. I want to replace it with a large Jacuzzi bath.”

“Did you know they put a new bathtub in the White House for William Howard Taft?” Brad asked. “He was over three hundred pounds and didn’t fit into the one Teddy Roosevelt used.”

“Let’s hear it for a new tub.” Logan raised his Coke can. “Taft won’t have nothing on me when I’m through with what I’ve got planned.”

“And to our new chief of police,” Mandy threw in as the group raised their sodas. She continued, “Talk at the diner’s running three to one in your favor, Logan. You have this election in the bag.”

Karlyn laughed. “Now if I were writing this story, Logan would either be killed—or he’d kill his opponent and become a suspect.”

“I hate to interrupt your get-together, Logan. The door was open, so I came on in.”

All eyes turned to current police chief Bobby Risedale.

“Pull up some floor, Chief. We’ve demolished the chicken, but there’s pie left.”

Risedale shook his head. “Roy’s struck again.” His face was grim. “In the Springs.”

Silence blanketed the room. Both Logan and Brad stood, setting their food and drink aside.

Resa voiced, “Was it anyone we know?”

“It’s the Springs, Resa. Everyone knows everybody here.” Risedale sighed. “We’ve notified her family. It was Beth Marie Sizemore.”

Logan and Karlyn locked eyes.

“I can’t believe it,” Brad said as they drove to the crime scene. “I saw Beth Marie at the diner two days ago. She asked about you. Still carrying a torch for her Mr. Quarterback.”

Logan remained silent. He remembered Beth Marie signing his petition to run, flirting openly with him in front of Karlyn, still hoping they could make a run of it since her second marriage soured.

Now she was gone. Thanks to the Rainbow Killer.

“It might not be Roy,” Brad said. “What if it’s the ex she had trouble squeezing alimony payments from? Dick Sizemore could keep all his money if Beth Marie were out of the picture. What if he’s played copycat and made it look like Roy left Atlanta and moved north for the last few murders?”

“Stop second guessing till we see the crime scene.”

His partner mumbled something. Logan quickly apologized. “Sorry. I know you’ve seen some of the murder scene pictures. But when Rick took me to Jeanine’s and I saw it in person—someone I knew—it changed everything. And now Beth Marie. We need to get this bastard.”

They pulled up at the small cottage Beth Marie rented, which stood behind a much larger house. Risedale had told them the owners were on vacation in Spain. Logan remembered Beth Marie bragging at how private it was, inviting him to dinner several times.

Somehow she’d hooked up with a killer. Beth Marie hadn’t stood a chance against Roy.

The coroner’s van was parked in the circular drive. Risedale had two patrolmen stationed to keep prying eyes away.

As they walked through the front room, Logan became convinced Roy was at work. Everything was in place. Roy was an orderly guy. Each previous scene echoed the same pristine neatness. Beth Marie had been a slob. Logan wondered how long it took Roy to bring order to the place—and why it was important to him.

The chief called out, “In here.”

They followed his voice to where he stood outside the bathroom.

“She didn’t show for a lunch date. Her friend said she was flaky that way, so she didn’t think much of it. Texted her several times, but Beth Marie never answered. The friend said her phone was always near her, so it concerned her. Decided to check on her. Got the key from the flowerpot when no one answered the door.

“And found this.”

Risedale stepped aside so they had a view of the body. Beth Marie was somehow propped up so she stood in the shower, painted a garish green. The color of money. From the looks of it, Roy was back to using piano wire to strangle his victims as Logan searched her from head to toe. Both her eyes were intact, and Logan hoped her tongue remained attached in her mouth.

“Definitely Roy’s work.” He looked at the crime scene tech dusting the tile for prints. “How’s she held up?”

“Super glue,” the tech said. “Must’ve used a ton to get her attached to the tile like this.”

Chapter 24

Karlyn closed her laptop, unable to focus. Thoughts of Beth Marie’s death clouded her brain. She’d spent last night and this morning scouring everything she could find about Roy’s victims and methods, still toying with the idea of a non-fiction book on the elusive Rainbow Killer.

She thought of meeting Beth Marie, who’d flirted outrageously with Logan, hoping to renew their relationship. Karlyn hoped she and Logan were in the process of starting up their own relationship, but this interruption from Roy arriving in Walton Springs would put that to simmer on a back burner. Logan would be a man obsessed until Roy was in custody.

Her cell rang. She grabbed it, ready for some human contact.

“Hello?”

“Hey,” said Logan. “Sorry we had to bail last night.”

“That’s okay. I locked up for you. By now, the paint’s dry. You’re ready to move in, Detective.”

“Yeah, right. I have no glasses. I need plates and silverware. Pots and pans. Not to mention furniture to fill the place.”

“I know you’re busy. Want me to go online and pull samples of things you need? I’ll even hit a few furniture stores and take pictures if you trust my taste.”

“You’re a lifesaver. Brad and I are leaving to meet with the Atlanta task force. My friend Rick Mabry from Fountain Valley is also attending. Right now my priority is catching Roy. The house, the election—all that’s on hold.”

“I understand. I’ll pull stuff together for when you’re ready. Remember, you don’t need a totally furnished house. A man starts with a recliner, his TV, and a bed. Anything else is secondary.”

“I appreciate you doing this, Karlyn.”

“I enjoy stuff like this. Besides, it will give your family and friends ideas on what to buy for the surprise housewarming they’re giving you next Saturday. Which I thought you’d better know about.”

“Like I’m in a party mood? I have a serial killer on the loose!”

“You might have Roy in custody by then.”

“I wish.”

“And Lucky went home with your parents last night.”

Karlyn heard his sharp intake of breath. “Damn. I forgot I had a dog. With this investigation, I can’t spend a lot of time with her. Maybe they can keep her for me.”

”I enjoy Lucky’s company. Mother’s always gone these days. She could go on runs with me.”

“You wouldn’t mind?”

“No. Besides, Jonas Watkins will be relieved. I think he believes I want to steal Hugo from him. He’s accused Hugo of favoring me over him.”

“Poor Jonas. He’ll miss that dog once his son returns from overseas. Listen, Karlyn, I’ve got to go. I’ll call when we get back from Atlanta.”

“Good luck there. I’ll collect Lucky. Talk to you soon.”

Karlyn couldn’t imagine the pressure Logan would be under with Roy having committed a murder here in Walton Springs. She noticed that he didn’t mention Seth Berger attending the task force meeting. Which meant Berger would use the time to campaign. With the election in two weeks, Logan needed to be hitting the pavement and knocking on doors.

But catching a killer would come first in his book.

She dialed the Warner residence. Dr. Warner answered.

“Hi, it’s Karlyn. Logan called and said he’s swamped with this investigation. I volunteered to keep Lucky and lavish attention on her. Is that all right with you?"

“Sure is. I just put her in the backyard since we’re headed to church. Come get her whenever it’s convenient. If she stayed with us, she’d be ten pounds heavier from table scraps, which I hear is a big no-no in the dog world these days.”

“Lucky could stand to gain a few pounds. I’ll stop by while I’m out running.”

“I’ll put her leash on the front porch in the mail box. You’ll need to get her food at Logan’s place.”

“Thanks, partner.”

Karlyn changed and stretched and then set out. As usual, Jonas sat on his porch. Hugo bounded down to join her. She trotted up to Jonas.

“I’m off to pick up Logan’s dog, so Hugo better stay here today. I’ll bring Lucky around soon so they can sniff each other out.”

“Sounds good,” Jonas told her. “I’ll distract this big lug so you can take off.” He looked at Hugo. “Want a milk bone, boy?” Jonas opened the door. Hugo raced by. “Safe to go,” he called.

She ran to the Warners and collected Lucky’s leash before going around the back. The dog ran over to greet her.

“Let’s go have some fun,” she told her.

She put in another two miles and returned home, sliding her key in the lock.

When she turned it, though, she noticed the door was unlocked. She knew she’d locked it when she left. Maybe her mother had returned home and forgotten to lock it as she often did.

Karlyn entered the kitchen cautiously. Lucky’s ears perked up, as if the dog listened to the sounds of the house. With the Rainbow Killer having been in Walton Springs the day before, an unlocked door was an invitation to trouble. She patrolled downstairs. No murderers lurked in the shadows. She returned to the kitchen and gave Lucky a bowl of water while she downed a Gatorade.

Karlyn headed upstairs, leaving Lucky to explore the house. When she reached her bedroom, she peeled her T-shirt off and was about to do the same with her sports bra when she screamed.

Mario Taylor sat perched in the middle of her bed as if he hadn’t a care in the world.