Illusions of Death (16 page)

Chapter 32

Karlyn heard the garage door opening and put down her glass of merlot. Another late night for Logan. He’d worked twenty hours a day since Mario’s murder, laser-focused on finding—and stopping—the Rainbow Killer.

She walked into the kitchen, Lucky following on her heels. Logan entered, his posture defeated, the dark circles prominent under his eyes. He set a stack of file folders on the countertop. Karlyn hugged him.

“It’s nice to come home to you,” he said softly. He pulled away. “Sorry I haven’t been around much the last few days.” He bent to pat Lucky, who moved to her bowl once the attention ended.

She took his hand and led him around the house on a brief tour. “Den furniture all here and in place. Dining room looks lovely, especially with that floral arrangement your mom brought by. Kitchen is stocked with basic pots, pans, and microwaveable dishes. The fridge is full in case you’re ever home to eat.”

Logan ran a hand through his hair. “It’s been candy bars and bad coffee on the go. Nelda did send over dinner tonight for the guys working the case. Meatloaf, mashed potatoes, English peas. Even apple pie for dessert. I think Rutherford is ready to marry her after tonight’s feast.”

“I’m glad she’s taking care of you.”

He slipped an arm around her waist. “Hey, you’re no slouch in that department. You’ve really pulled this place together.”

“I’ve had the time. With everything that’s been going on, I haven’t been inspired to write.” She paused. “Do you remember about Saturday night?”

“My un-surprise surprise party?”

“Yes, the surprise housewarming. It’s on for seven, so you need to be here. And that’s after you spend the day campaigning.”

Logan shook his head. “No, that’s done with. Either people will vote for me next Saturday, or they won’t. I’ve got too much to do. I can’t run around like some asshole politician.”

“Seth will be out in full force.”

“Let him.” Logan plopped onto the new sofa. “He’s taking vacation days this week. I haven’t even seen him. And Rutherford’s people turned up nothing on him that we could use.”

Karlyn perched on the armrest. “Then maybe he’s not Roy.”

He hung his head in his hands. “I don’t know anymore. It could be him. I wanted it to be him. But it could be a thousand other guys.” He slammed his fist onto the armrest. “It’s so frustrating.”

Karlyn stroked his hair. “I know. Why don’t you go grab some sleep? Maybe something will stand out when you get some rest.”

He walked upstairs as if he were a zombie, Lucky following. Karlyn watched them go and then returned to the kitchen. The stack of manila folders proved tempting. She knew they dealt with the Rainbow Murders. Logan had talked aspects of the case with her, but she hadn’t viewed any of the evidence.

She brought the folders into the dining room and spread them out. She grabbed a pad to make notes. She wrote about criminals for a living. She constantly forced Matt to get into his enemy’s head. Think as a criminal. Catch a criminal.

And Karlyn wanted to help get Roy.

First, she studied the crime scene photos and then the autopsy reports. Roy had cut out the tongue of each victim, mounting it somewhere nearby. He’d also painted each one of them a color of the rainbow, going in the order of the hues. That consistency was across the board for his dozen victims.

Karlyn finally turned to her ex-husband’s autopsy report. She tried to view it objectively but found herself wiping away tears at the brutality of his murder.

She decided to line up the snapshots of each victim, looking for some connection. Five were women. Seven were men. Two men were gay. The white architect had a life partner, while the African-American bookstore owner had recently lost his lover in a car accident.

Nineteen-year-old Cyndee Washington was the only Asian and youngest victim, a hooker who trolled some of Atlanta’s roughest streets. The lone Hispanic was a plumber with five children and another on the way. Mario had been born in Spain, the only victim born outside the US.

Karlyn noted two widowers, the retired teacher and the truck driver. Two, including Logan’s friend Jeanine, had taught elementary-aged children. The others ranged from Jared Quincy, a white accountant with three children to Ted Harrison, an engaged fireman who’d recently become a certified paramedic.

The ages were spread out. Three victims were under thirty. Four were in their thirties. Two had been in their early forties. Only the trucker was in his fifties, with the retired teacher being in her sixties.

Karlyn crossed out that line of thinking and moved to marital status. One engaged, two widowed, one married, and four divorced, including the last three. Another dead end.

She played with the stats, grouping them by occupations, residences, and education. Nothing came up. Karlyn placed each victim’s picture in the order they were killed, checking for any physical similarities. Cyndee had a bad dye job, her carrot-red hair spiked tall. Jerry was bald. Both Rita and Jeanine had worn glasses. Randolph Van Buren had seen a few fights in his day, his nose obviously broken on more than one occasion. For the most part, they were all average-looking. The exception was the engaged paramedic. He could’ve been a Ralph Lauren model.

Karlyn found no discernible patterns that tied the victims together. Roy proved an equal opportunity killer. He crossed all lines—ethnic, gender, income levels, sexual preferences. None of those gave any clue as to why Roy killed these particular men and women. No single element connecting the victims stood out.

She stacked the folders again in chronological order, as Logan kept them. She had to be overlooking something. It nagged at her, as if it simmered on a far back burner of her mind. She returned the folders to the kitchen and put away her notes.

It would come to her. She was sure of it.

Karlyn jumped in the shower after a long Saturday campaigning in the heat. She and Lucky went door to door, singing Logan’s praises. Most people knew Logan because he grew up in town, but they also seemed interested in meeting her. She decided her small touch of celebrity hadn’t hurt his chances at the polls.

The Kinyon place was fast becoming home to her and Logan. Martha Campbell had returned from her travels the day before and asked Karlyn if she had moved in with Logan after she’d found a bare refrigerator and most of her daughter’s clothes gone from the guest bedroom closet. Karlyn told her mother she wasn’t sure what the status of their relationship was.

She chose a lemon yellow sleeveless shirt and khaki skirt, pairing it with gold sandals. After all today’s walking, she’d save sexy heels for another time.

She hoped the guest of honor would show up for his own housewarming.

Karlyn gave downstairs a quick run-through, freshening the water in the vase that held the flowers Mrs. Warner brought by. She was ready to take food from the refrigerator when the doorbell rang. Lucky trotted behind her to welcome the first early guest.

Jesse Alpine greeted them. “Evening, Karlyn.” He squatted next to Lucky. “Hey, girl. You look sleek and well-loved.” He ruffled her fur and stood, handing Karlyn a tall gift sack.

“Come in. You’re the first.”

“It’s wine. As a single guy, I’m not too creative in the social department. And a six-pack didn’t seem to have quite the same panache.”

Karlyn laughed. “Logan would’ve liked it.”

Jesse followed her into the kitchen, and she sat the wine on the table.

“I guess this Rainbow business has him pretty tied up. It’s all anyone wants to talk about when they come into the clinic.”

“With two of the murders in a town this size, what can you expect?”

“It is pretty Mayberry here. I grew up in Atlanta. Went to vet school in Athens. I’m used to big cities. But one of my profs went to school with the vet who was retiring in the Springs. He convinced me to settle here.”

“So you haven’t regretted small town life?”

He shrugged. “My practice keeps me pretty busy. I don’t have time to miss big city life although I do miss some of the conveniences. And being single in the Springs doesn’t mean a lot of dates. I mostly work, veg out in front of the TV when I get home, and then do it all over again.”

“Have you met Brad Patterson? He’s Logan’s partner. He’s single. I know he goes to Atlanta fairly often to hit the bars and clubs. Maybe you can tag along with him sometime. He’ll be here tonight. I’ll introduce you.”

Jesse frowned. “That’s not me. Ear-shattering music and girls waiting to be picked up after you’ve bought them five drinks? The conveniences I miss are Braves games and fast food. I love Nelda’s diner, but there are days I long for a Krispy Kreme or Sonic burger and cheese tots.”

“So we need to find you a baseball fan who can grill a greasy burger?”

He grinned. “Now you’re speaking my language.”

The doorbell rang. Karlyn excused herself. She liked Jesse. She determined to find him the perfect girl.

She opened the door and smiled at Mandy. The waitress was single and attractive. She thought the two might click. She’d never played matchmaker before, but she’d give it a whirl.

“Come on in, Mandy. I’ve got someone I’d like you to meet.”

Karlyn led her to the kitchen and made the introductions. Mandy worked the breakfast and lunch shifts, and Jesse had only eaten dinner at the diner, so they’d never met before. They helped her pull platters from the fridge that contained appetizers, cheese, and fruit. She told them to go relax in the den while she opened bags of chips and set out bowls of dips and pretzels, hoping a little alone time before others arrived would help fan the spark she’d seen in both their eyes.

By the time Karlyn had the food ready, a constant stream of people floated in over the next half-hour. Resa brought Logan’s favorite oatmeal raisin cookies and a set of sheets for the bed. Nelda contributed a Mississippi Mud pie and a triple layer chocolate cake, along with new dish towels for the kitchen.

Logan arrived in and pulled her into his arms. “Good party. Nice going, Campbell.”

She gave him a lingering kiss that promised more to come once they had the house to themselves. “It’s better now that you’re here.”

Karlyn handed him a can of beer. “I’ll fix you a plate. I’m betting you didn’t stop and eat today.”

“You’d win that bet. Maybe you should head to Vegas soon.”

“There’s my baby,” Resa Warner crooned. “Have you thanked Karlyn and Lucky for campaigning today? They hit the pavement all day drumming up votes for you.”

Nelda added, “Seth had a booth set up in the square, but he didn’t have much of a crowd. Are you any closer to catching this madman, Logan? That’s all my customers talk about these days.”

Logan waved her away. “I can’t comment on an on-going investigation.”

“Did you hear that, Resa? Your boy already sounds like a slippery politician.”

Karlyn handed Logan his plate and abandoned him to the two women. She drifted through the rooms, making sure everyone had something to drink and then changed the music from Springsteen to
The Big Chill
soundtrack and
Ain’t Too Proud to Beg
. She convinced Brad to dance with her. They were soon joined by Jesse and Mandy and Rick Mabry and his wife Hildy.

As they danced, Brad informed her, “William Howard Taft loved to dance. When he was governor of the Philippines, he would dance the native dances with what he called his little brown brothers. All three hundred and fifty pounds of him.”

She laughed. “Was he from the South? I believe I’ve gained ten pounds since I’ve arrived. Every event revolves around food. The more fattening and fried, the better.”

After a few songs, Karlyn needed a drink. She grabbed a beer and tossed half of it down.

“You throw a nice party.” Logan slipped an arm around her waist. “Everyone’s having a great time. And Mandy and Jesse Alpine seemed to have hit it off.”

She smiled. “Careful planning on my part. And it looks like it’s taking.” She watched Jesse swing Mandy into a low dip. Mandy laughed as he pulled her up.

“Would you like to dance?”

Karlyn took another sip of her Bud and set it down. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Logan led her to the large entryway and pulled her close as
Tracks of My Tears
started. He hummed along with Smokey Robinson as the song played.

“You’re a lot smoother dancer than Brad,” Karlyn told him.

“I bet you say that to all the guys.”

“No. Only the ones I’m interested in.”

He rocked with her slowly and searched her face. Karlyn grew warm under his stare.

“My kids are still the best thing that ever happened to me,” he said softly. “But Karlyn Campbell, you are special. I’m glad you’ve come into my life.”

She tried not to show her surprise at hearing Logan had children. He’d never mentioned them before. In fact, she remembered their first dinner date. He’d told her he didn’t have kids when she’d asked. She wondered where they lived and when he saw them with the kind of schedule he kept.

The song ended. Logan took her hand and led her out onto the wide porch. The May evening had started to cool. Music drifted softly from inside the house. Logan had them sit on the top stair. He kept her hand in his and focused on it as he spoke.

“I was married before. To my college sweetheart. We lived in Atlanta and had twins. Alex and Ashley. Those two little troublemakers were the light of my life. I had everything then. We’d bought a fixer-upper. It was starting to take shape. I’d made detective. Felicity was working part-time from home while the kids were in school.

“And it all came crashing down.”

Logan grew silent. Karlyn squeezed his hand reassuringly.