Illusions of Death (18 page)

Karlyn put an arm around her mother’s shoulder. “Don’t borrow trouble, Mother. Besides, I haven’t decided if I’ll pursue it or not.”

“Sounds like you’re seriously committed to this project,” Brad noted. “You’ve gone well beyond curiosity.”

She shrugged. “I’m exploring the idea. If I don’t write Roy’s story, I can use the research in a novel. I’ve been playing with the idea of creating a series with a female detective. Maybe she could have a run-in with a serial killer. Or she could even work for the FBI and specialize in profiling serial killers. Whatever I decide, the research is never in vain.”

She paused. “I’m sorry. I rarely talk over my story ideas with anyone. I get a little wound up. Let me get what you came for.”

Karlyn disappeared into the kitchen and scooped up the budget folders Logan needed. She returned and handed them to Brad.

“I know you need to head back. With your job, you don’t need a lesson on serial killers.”

He laughed. “Actually, I’d rather hang with you ladies. After I drop these with Logan, I’m heading to the high school. Some teachers have been getting pretty nasty messages on their voice mails.” He wrinkled his nose in disgust. “You know me and kids. Not my favorite combination.”

Martha reached for a folder near her. “Now this is much better than killers. It’s marriage info.”

Karlyn laughed. “That’s my marriage stack. To get our license in Georgia, we need proof of identity—driver’s license, passport, birth certificates. And I have to provide a copy of my divorce decree.”

Brad leaned over and flipped open Karlyn’s passport. “Hey, you look pretty good in this picture, Miss Karlyn Pierce Campbell. Not anything like a washed-out criminal, which most passports favor.”

“Pierce was my maiden name,” Martha explained. “It’s a family tradition to make the maiden name the middle name on my side of the family.”

He grinned. “You realize you’re in excellent company. George Herbert Walker Bush married Barbara Pierce, and she became known as Barbara Pierce Bush. Then they had George W. Bush. He proceeded to have fraternal girl twins, and he and Laura named one of them Barbara Pierce Bush, after her grandmother. The elder Barbara’s family came from Rye, New York. Who knows? You might be distant relatives.”

“Leave it to Brad to spin the presidential trivia,” Resa declared. “But I could use a glass of iced tea, Karlyn. All this talk of killers has me parched.”

“Ladies, nice seeing you. I’ll be on my way.”

“I’ll walk you out,” Karlyn offered.

When they reached the door, he said, “I enjoyed hearing about your possible book. And seriously, if you come up with anything—anything you think the task force could use to catch Roy—holler.”

“I will. Now I’m off to discuss the merits of butter cream icing and whether or not we’ll do a buffet or plated dinner.”

“Either way, I better be invited. Later.” Brad waved and left.

Karlyn steeled herself to go up against two strong women and their equally strong opinions.

Chapter 35

Karlyn leaned back against the pillows and watched Logan zip his suitcase closed.

“I wish it were next weekend,” he said. “I wish we were on St. Simons Island right now, repeating our vows in front of the lighthouse. Looking out at that panoramic view of the Golden Islands as the sun sets. Squishing sand between our toes.”

He hoisted his suitcase off the bed. “Instead of going to this conference.” Logan looked at her hopefully. “Sure you don’t want to tag along?”

“Not a chance, Warner. You’ll be busy the next couple of days with seminars. And you’re rooming with Rick. I don’t think there’d be room for me. Besides, it’s not as if I’ve never seen Atlanta before.”

She moved off the bed. “I still have some wedding details to finalize for next weekend. I don’t want you to have to worry about anything. You had the brilliant idea to get married at the lighthouse.”

He pulled her close. “You’ve been a beacon of light in my life, babe.” He gave her a lingering, thorough kiss that caused her toes to curl. “And as soon as Roy’s in custody, we’ll take the time to go on a real honeymoon.”

“Mother and Resa are planning the finishing touches for the reception back here. They want most of it to be a surprise.”

He shook his head. “Funny, they’ve become thick as thieves. And Nelda rounds out the trio.” He kissed her again. “I’ve got to go. I’m meeting with Bill Rutherford and some of the task force today before the conference starts tomorrow. What will you be up to while I’m gone?”

Karlyn fluttered her eyelashes coquettishly. “Why, Mr. Warner, I do declare. I think I might have some writin’ to do. Plus, Chris and Warren are coming in tomorrow for the weekend.”

“I hope you get a lot done. I should be home no later than seven Saturday night. Tell Chris and Warren hello.”

“Will do.” Karlyn hugged him one last time. “Stay out of trouble. You’ll be running in a tough crowd with all those Feebies.” She grinned. “But you’ll be dressed better than any of them. Especially if you wear the new paisley tie.”

After seeing Logan off, Karlyn spent the morning going over the files she’d compiled on Roy’s victims. It amazed her how much information she could access through the Internet.

She shuffled her index cards and grouped them by information on the table. Four of the victims held library cards. Rita and Jeanine belonged to the ACLU. Five regularly attended church, with four sharing a Baptist background, but this was the South.
Roy
was probably a Baptist! Six showed up as registered voters—two Republicans, three Democrats, and one Independent. Claudia also held membership in AARP.

She kept drawing blanks. Two of the Atlanta vics actually had the same vet, but one owned a schnauzer and the other a parakeet. All but motorcycle driver Ted Harrison owned a car. Their hobbies varied from gardening to community theatre. The only connection common to all? Every victim had a cell phone.

All this info amounted to was BFN. Big Fat Nothing.

Although Roy struck fairly regularly, Karlyn couldn’t find a set pattern. Why couldn’t he be like serial killers in books and movies and strike once every full moon or the third Tuesday of each month?

“Because he’s too smart,” she said aloud. Since Roy had avoided getting caught, Karlyn surmised he’d learned from earlier mistakes. She believed by the time he started the Rainbow Killings, he had perfected his style.

And that’s what it was. Style. Roy had created a persona in the news, a ghost who left no evidence behind, a killer who killed without links between victims, a man with no conscience and a huge stack of press clippings.

The morning had been a waste of time. Karlyn decided to go for a run to clear her mind. Lucky snoozed in Logan’s recliner, so she decided to go alone.

The noon sun burned down as she jogged. She cut through the park and decided to stop at the diner for an iced tea. She stepped inside and immediately got a hug from Mandy.

“You meeting Logan?”

“He’s out of town till Saturday night at a regional conference in Atlanta. I’m parched and could use an iced tea to go.”

Mandy brought her the drink. “The Braves play on Sunday afternoon. Maybe the four of us can go.”

“I’d love that. How are you and Jesse doing?”

The server beamed. “We’re not pussyfooting around. I like him. He likes me. We enjoy a bunch of the same stuff. And we’re both trying new things. I’ve got him hooked on HGTV. He’s gotten me into hiking.”

“So you’re serious.”

Mandy nodded. “We feel right together. We’re soul mates. I figure this time next year, we’ll be married.”

“I couldn’t be happier for you.”

“Thanks. And the tea’s on the house. Enjoy the rest of your run. Or in this heat, you may want to walk home.”

Karlyn took a long sip and strolled over to the park as the clock tower chimed a quarter after noon. She decided she’d sit in the shade and enjoy her tea before she started back.

As she sat on a bench, a man stepped out from a grove of trees and came to stand in front of her. His unkempt hair, scraggly beard, and faded clothing made him appear homeless. He brought a cigarette up to inhale. She saw tattoos lined his arms.

“Hey, there, Karlyn.”

He knew her?

Karlyn swallowed and steadied her voice. “Hello. I don’t believe we’ve met.”

The stranger took a step toward her. She gripped the arm of the bench. He frightened her. A fine sheen of sweat covered his forehead. His dark blue eyes didn’t seem in focus as he stared at her.

“I’m Billy Frank. I found your dead husband. But you’re getting a new one now. Logan. I knowed him forever before he left the Springs to play football. But he came back. He’s the police now.”

She slipped the lid off her Styrofoam cup. If she needed to, she’d throw the drink in this stranger’s face and run like hell. His unsteady speech made her wonder if he were on drugs.

Then a torrent of words came out of Billy Frank. “I was a army guy. Did you know that? I didn’t go to college like Logan. But now I’m back. I found your dead husband. He was painted all blue. It was scary. But Logan came and talked to me and said he’d take care of it.”

“Mario was my ex-husband. We were divorced.”

“I’ll be durned.” He took a deep drag on the cigarette. “Logan’ll be good to you. He’s a nice guy.”

“He is, but he’s a hungry guy. I need to head home and fix him some lunch.” She stood and managed a smile. “Nice meeting you, Billy Frank.”

He gave her a half-smile and turned away, disappearing back into the thick grove of trees. She took deep breaths, trying to lower her racing pulse. For a fleeting moment she wondered if Billy Frank could be Roy. Could the slow talk and slack face disguise a killer? She needed to talk to Logan to find out if that were possible.

Karlyn downed the rest of her tea. The cool drink had refreshed her. She decided to continue her run. She left the park, keeping an eye out for Billy Frank, and decided to circle the town square before heading home. She caught movement from the corner of her eye and turned her head. A squirrel darted across the street and scampered up a tree in front of the antique store.

When she faced front again, she missed her step, tripping on a half-crushed soda can perched on a rise in the sidewalk. She stumbled, trying to regain her balance, and fell on the cement. One knee skidded, peeling the skin away, while her ankle twisted under her as she collapsed.

She gasped at the jarring pain. The raw knee was bad enough, but it was her ankle that concerned her. It had already begun to swell. She pushed to her feet and limped to a nearby bench in front of the barber shop. She was out of breath and mad that she’d spooked so easily.

Karlyn debated whether she should call someone or try and walk on it. She’d suffered plenty of sprained ankles before. Sometimes getting up on it would keep the swelling and stiffness down. But she’d only had to walk a couple of blocks in the past. Logan’s house was almost two miles from the town square.

“Trouble?”

She looked up to see Seth Berger approaching in street clothes, a ball cap pulled low on his brow. She knew he’d been questioned as a possible suspect in the Rainbow Murders and had taken vacation time from the department after Logan won the recent election.

Berger sneered at her. “Need help? I’m sure your fiancé would trot right down here. Oh, wait. That’s right. The chief’s not in town. Heard he’s gallivanting off in Atlanta, chummy with those bureau guys.”

Karlyn didn’t like his taunting tone. She pulled out her cell.

“Guess you could call the police to come rescue you. I expect you think the force is at your disposal since you’re marrying the boss. Slick city gal like you bamboozling our little country bumpkin chief.”

“Considering Logan was an Academic All-American at Georgia and probably has an IQ higher than mine, I doubt he’s the bumpkin type.”

Berger’s eyes held hers. “Then why isn’t he smart enough to solve the Rainbow Killings? You solve all kinds of murders in your books. They’ve got pretty intricate plots. Maybe you teach real killers little tricks to keep from getting caught if they read your books. Does that make you feel guilty? Innocent people might be dead because of you. Maybe even Roy G. Biv has read your stuff and learned how to get away with murder.”

Karlyn took offense at his words. “The Rainbow Killer is smarter than someone who learned something from a fictional book. He’s resourceful and knows how to avoid the law, probably because he
is
in law enforcement. Like in the KKK days or during Freedom Summer–those kinds of men got away with a hell of a lot, abusing and killing those who were innocent.”

Berger chuckled. “Oh, Little Yankee, purr away. Keep sticking your nose in enough places, and I’ll bet Mr. Roy G. Biv will come for you.”

The gleam in his eye caused Karlyn to go cold. Fear rushed through her as fast as adrenaline would. Berger was an ex-military guy who carried a deep grudge against Logan. Seth Berger could be Roy.

Suddenly, he tipped his cap to her. “I’ll leave you be now, but here’s some food for thought, little lady. You think you’re so smart—and you think Roy is smart, too. Well, look at your own husband. He was single before you got here. Didn’t date. Able to keep odd hours with his job. Went to Atlanta when he wanted or surrounding areas. A man with a badge can do just about anything.

“And he went a little crazy when his kids were killed.”

Karlyn gasped in outrage.

“Oh, I knew about that. I checked him out good when he came back to the Springs, tail between his legs, all mopey and down at the mouth. Looked even closer at him when he decided to run against me. Mr. Logan Warner. Intelligent, divorced loner with knowledge of how crime scenes work.” He paused. “Don’t you think it’s convenient his old girlfriend who came onto him bit the dust after he got involved with you?”

Berger’s smile twisted. “Then
your
ex becomes another victim of Roy’s, and suddenly you and Prince Charming are engaged. Do you really know the man you’re marrying, Miss High and Mighty Author?
You
could be engaged to the infamous Roy G. Biv.”

He laughed. “They say the wife is the last to know. Like the BTK Killer. Usually a wife serves as a cover.” Berger studied her. “Or did you figure it out? Does death turn you on? Is that why you write about it in such detail? Hmm. Maybe you and Lover Boy have even done a vic together. Put that in your next book, Sweet Cheeks.”

She sat stunned as Berger strolled off. Her ankle throbbed. Her pulse raced. She swallowed her fear as a dull ache of doubt swaddled her heart. Could Berger be right? Had she rushed too quickly into a relationship with Logan? Did she know as much about him as she thought she did?

Karlyn violently shook her head. What was she thinking? Seth Berger was a jealous prick just trying to get under her skin.

She loved Logan. Period. No ifs, ands, or buts.

Karlyn struggled to stand and limped across the street to the café. A strong shot of caffeine would clear her head.

And any doubts. Wouldn’t it?