Illusions of Death (12 page)

Chapter 25

Karlyn exploded. “Why the hell are you here? How did you get in? Get off my bed! Get out of here!”

Mario laughed. “You’ve always been an Ice Queen, my love. Little to no emotion. Now a Drama Queen? Why the sudden change?”

He hopped off the bed and moved toward her, eyeing her appreciatively. Karlyn grabbed her T-shirt off the floor and pulled it on. Sex had never been their problem. Just the fact that he liked to have it with women other than her.

And the only man she wanted to be intimate with was Logan.

Lucky appeared at the door, a low growl sounding in her throat as she stared at the stranger.

Mario chuckled. “What a scrawny mutt. Not your style at all. You deserve a regal Great Dane or German Shepherd by your side.” He turned his nose up. “Not . . . this mongrel.”

He grasped her elbow. Lucky growled again, her eyes bouncing from Karlyn to the man as she assessed the threat.

Karlyn remained calm. She didn’t want to set the dog off. She should have predicted Mario would show up when he found it impossible to reach her.

“Leave now,” she said in a non-threatening tone, “or I will press charges against you for breaking and entering.”

Mario produced the house key from his pocket. “From the proverbial flowerpot. I don’t think you could make a case.”

“A lucky guess.”

“Or the beautiful Martha told me where to find it.”

Her heart skipped a beat. “She wouldn’t,” she ground out. At least Karlyn hoped her mother wouldn’t.

Lucky bared her teeth. Karlyn was afraid Mario would hurt the dog if she tried to protect her. Lucky was still an underfed baby. He could issue a swift kick to the pup’s head that might kill her. She wouldn’t put it past her ex.

“Let go of me. I’ll get Lucky. You’ll leave.”

Karlyn moved the minute Mario dropped her elbow. She stepped back and swept Lucky up in her arms. She glared at him, anger permeating her body.

He smiled, his white, even teeth perfect against the dark Spanish looks inherited from his mother. His height and lean build came from his father, an American art professor who met his wife while on sabbatical in Spain. Unfortunately, the couple died in a car accident. Mario’s aunt spoiled him from the age of four, giving him a sense of entitlement he never lost.

She missed that when they met. All Karlyn saw was charm, intellect, and a sweetness she now knew to be false. Mario missed his calling when he chose to paint. He should have become an actor instead. It surprised her he hadn’t thought of it himself. He would relish walking the red carpet. Gaining attention from the
paparazzi
.

“You came for money. You’re out of luck,” she said bluntly.

“I came for you,
mi querido
. Life without you?” He shrugged. “I had the love of my life and foolishly let her go.”

“Did you mention me to the hot model you’re banging?”

He shrugged. “She’s gone from my life. I love no one but you. I worship your beauty.”

Karlyn snorted. “I’m above average if I apply mascara and fix my hair. Don’t act like I’m some Greek goddess you can’t live without. You sniffed out other women on our honeymoon.”

“You’ve never been average,
querido
.”

“I’m not your darling, Mario. I’m not your anything. What I am is serious. Get out. Leave town. It’s over.” She sighed. “
So
over. And give me that key.”

Mario eyed her with interest as he placed the key in her upturned palm.

“You’ve found someone new. I can tell because you’re blushing. You can’t lie to me, Karlyn. I know you too well.”

He continued to study her. “You’re cautious by nature. But you look different. Could you already have slept with him so fast? Hmmm . . . who is he? A small town banker, perhaps. Or a news editor. A literary type would appeal to you.”

Karlyn decided to tell him about Logan. Maybe if he could get through his thick skull that she’d already moved on, he would do the same.

“I’m seeing a detective who will arrest your sorry ass for trespassing in a nano-second,” she said evenly, still trying not to alert Lucky. “I’m able to keep Lucky back, but with Logan? There’s no holding back.” She grinned. The thought of Logan making mincemeat out of Mario appealed to her immensely.

He gave her an indulgent smile. “If you change your mind, I’m staying at a charming bed and breakfast on Maple. Mrs. Camille Attaway’s.
Ciao
.”

Karlyn counted to fifty as she listened to him go down the stairs and open and close the front door. Tension coiled through her shaking body.

Lucky stared sadly at her, as if she could feel Karlyn’s emotional pain. She buried her face in the dog’s fur. “I’m not mad at you, girl. I’m mad at him. He’s a loser who knows how to push my buttons. That makes me mad at myself.”

Either she would be the death of Mario Taylor, or he would be the death of her.

“Call her, buddy. You know you want to.”

Logan stopped at the light and looked at Brad. He wore a knowing grin.

“I can tell. You guys are getting tight. And today’s been a long day.” Brad ran a hand through his hair. “If I even hear the name Roy in the next forty-eight hours, I will run screaming from the station. Much less think about serial killers and murders and decent people losing their lives to this drifter.”

“What do you mean? Drifter?”

His partner shrugged. “I don’t mean it in a literal sense, like he’s blowing through and will be in another state next week. I’m thinking how he’s drifting north after so many murders in the city. Moving up the map. You gotta wonder why.”

The light changed. Logan moved with the traffic. “In all the years I’ve seen this kind of stuff, I’ve never understood why.”

“Why?”

“You know. Why a person would harm another person. I don’t see how they can look at someone and perform such savagery.”

Brad sighed. “Research proves most serial killers were abused as kids. Maybe they aren’t treated as human from a young age. In turn, they don’t see others as human. But why they mutilate, stab, burn? Enough of the gory talk.” He pulled out his cell. “What’s Karlyn’s number?”

Logan told him. He concentrated on the road as Brad dialed, trying to push away thoughts of what Carson Miller had done to Ashley and Alex. In his book, Miller wasn’t human. He was an animal.

“Hey, Karlyn. It’s Brad. Yeah. Doing good. We sat all day looking at gruesome pictures and hearing all kinds of nasty things. I think Logan could use a break. They didn’t feed us. You can probably hear our stomachs growling over the line.”

Brad paused and laughed. “Well, I could. Anything. I would eat garbage if it had garlic sprinkled on it. Hmmm. That sounds nice. Thanks.” He looked at his watch. “Probably twenty, twenty-five minutes. Okay. See you then.”

Brad pocketed his phone. “Karlyn’s taken pity on both of us. She’s ordering two extra-large pizzas. They should be there by the time we get to her mom’s place. Hope you don’t mind me horning in. I’ll eat and run. Promise.”

“That’s fine.” Logan was glad Brad had pushed to call Karlyn. He’d missed her all day, especially since it was a Sunday and he’d hoped they could go for a motorcycle ride that afternoon. Now he could at least salvage some time with dinner.

Maybe more, once Brad left.

Logan pulled into the drive. A Honda with pizza advertising on its roof arrived at the curb.

“I’ll get it,” Brad said. He handed cash to the delivery guy and brought the pizzas to the porch.

Karlyn opened the door before Logan rang the bell. He drank in her face, glad to see someone who hadn’t had a throat cut and wide, staring eyes. He mentally shook off the image and gave her a quick kiss. As he pulled away, she pulled him close again by grabbing his tie and kissed him once more.

She broke the kiss. “Mmmm. Smells heavenly.” She motioned to Brad. “Bring those into the kitchen. Beer? Iced tea?”

They devoured the pizzas as Karlyn explained how her mother had left on an impromptu trip that afternoon.

“A new antiquing friend got a wild hare to go shopping in New York. Mother jumped at the chance. She was excited about buying new purses and seeing
The Book of Mormon
.”

“How long will she be gone?” Brad asked.

“Maybe a week. Maybe longer.” Karlyn laughed. “This fly by the seat of your pants thing is new for her.”

Logan said, “Lucky will be good company then.”

She frowned. “I had an unexpected visitor today, so having some bark around the house will be nice.”

He caught the bitter tone in her words. “Trouble?”

Her mouth tightened. “My ex-husband. He found the spare key while I was gone. Let himself in and made himself at home. I threw him out.”

Logan’s shoulders tensed. “Why is he here?”

“Bottom line? He wanted money. What he said was he wanted me back, but that’s a joke.”

Logan looked into her troubled green eyes. “Do you want to file a temporary restraining order against him?”

Karlyn hesitated. “Let me think about it. He’s staying at a B&B here in town. If he continues to pester me, I’ll do it.”

“I disagree,” Brad said. “File it now. Don’t wait for trouble to come knocking. Be proactive.” He glanced at Logan. “I can start the paperwork tonight.”

“No,” Karlyn said firmly. “You’ve both had a long day. I can come to the station tomorrow morning if I decide to go that route.”

“If for any reason Brad and I aren’t there, don’t let Seth Berger handle it,” Logan advised. “He files away every tidbit of info. It wouldn’t surprise me if he sold what you said to the tabloids.”

“Good advice. That guy creeps me out. He won’t get a handful of votes against you, Logan.”

“Do you know he saw Beth Marie Sizemore a few times?”

Logan looked at Brad in surprise. “What? How do you know?”

“I heard him brag about it in the locker room. That they’d gone through a six-pack together.” He paused and added, “Capping the night off in a fun way. And the way he said it? His meaning was clear.”

Karlyn shivered. “That creeps me out even more.”

“We need to question him now that she’s dead.” Logan met Brad’s eyes. “Makes me think about Berger in a whole new light.”

Chapter 26

Logan stared into the mirror. Dark circles screamed his lack of sleep, thanks to Mario Taylor hanging around town. He’d spent the night with Karlyn in case her ex decided to pay another visit. He doubted an undernourished puppy would be enough protection. He insisted she set the little-used alarm before he kissed her goodbye this morning and returned to his apartment.

His shower sparked some life into him. He nuked the pizza she sent home with him for breakfast. He was eager to arrive at the station this morning.

And get Seth Berger into interrogation.

Logan would play it strictly by the book. He had a reputation for making sure every
T
was crossed and each
I
dotted. He didn’t want Berger to accuse him of any impropriety, especially with the election looming.

He decided to grab a coffee in the diner to help jump-start him. He zipped down the stairs and sidled up to the counter.

“Coffee’ll do it today, Mandy. I need to get to work.”

Her brow wrinkled. “I know. Beth Marie.” She filled a to-go cup for him.

Logan sensed eyes on him. He turned to survey the diner’s patrons. A stranger with dark, good looks and burning eyes met his with contempt.

“Here you go, Logan.” Mandy leaned in as he took a long drink. “The guy looking at you?” she asked. “He’s been asking about you since he got here.”

Logan felt the rush of caffeine hit his system and fan out.

“I know who he is. Thanks for the coffee.” Logan tipped her and went to introduce himself to Mario Taylor.

He pulled out a chair and sat opposite Karlyn’s ex.

“I’m Detective Logan Warner, Mr. Taylor. I don’t cotton much to assholes. Which means you should head back to New York.”

Taylor smiled, his white teeth dark against olive skin. “Two powerful men. In love with the same fierce blonde. Whom will she choose?”

Love
?

Logan hadn’t said the words to Karlyn. He didn’t want to frighten her off. But he knew it was true. He’d fallen in love with an amazing woman. He’d do anything to protect her. He stared at her ex-husband. A strong wave of possessiveness washed over him.

He loved her. Period. And he wanted to mop the floor with this jerk.

“Karlyn will toy with us while she makes up her mind. She may have you fooled, but she’s quite fickle. Whatever the outcome, rest assured it’ll appear in her next book. With Karlyn, like Taylor Swift, there’s always a price tag attached.”

Mario pushed his eggs around with a fork. “I hear you are not only fighting for love but fighting for political office, Detective Warner. And struggling to put a killer behind bars.”

The artist paused and took a bite. “Of course, you have yet to find the killer that murdered your two beautiful children.”

Rage raced through Logan. He jumped to his feet and threw back an arm to punch out this bastard’s lights. Then dropped it. That’s what this bozo wanted. Mario Taylor would be sue happy. He could ruin Logan’s present. And future.

“I googled you, Detective, and found out—”

“Leave. I don’t want trash like you in my place.”

Logan found Nelda Van Wormer standing next to him. The diner’s owner glared at Mario. “I heard what you said. You’re no friend of Logan’s—or Karlyn’s—and you won’t find any in the Springs.”

Mario stood. He yanked his wallet out.

“No,” Nelda warned. “I don’t want your money. Or your kind. Now git!”

He stormed out without a backward glance. Logan tried to relax his clenched jaw.

“Thanks, Nelda.”

She patted his arm. “Go to work, honey. I know you’ve got a lot on your mind. That scumbag won’t come back here.”

Logan picked up his coffee and left. He saw Taylor scurrying down the sidewalk east of the square.

He arrived at the station and grabbed Risedale’s arm, pulling him aside into the empty break room.

“We need to talk before roll call.”

As they walked to the chief’s office, Brad came in. Logan motioned to him. The three men closeted in private. Brad repeated to the chief what he’d told Logan the night before. Risedale’s eyes widened.

“Kid gloves, fellas. No accusations in the interview. This could be an explosive situation. I’ll watch outside Interrogation One.” He gripped Logan’s shoulder. “Go fetch Berger. I saw him come in a few minutes ago.”

Brad said, “I’m grabbing coffee. I’ll meet you there.”

Logan entered the squad room and found Berger at his desk, reading the sports section and eating a fried egg sandwich. He took the last bite as Logan walked over and mopped the grease from his chin.

“Interrogation One. Now.”

Berger sized him up. “Yeah, Mr. Golden Boy. I heard you’re working the Sizemore homicide. I know Risedale handpicked you and Patterson for the area task force.” He sneered. “You think that’ll make you more qualified to run this town? Election’s in less than two weeks. Better catch Mr. Roy G. Biv, ‘cause if you don’t? You won’t get a dozen votes in this town. I’ve got a blitz prepared that’ll—”

“I said move your ass.”

Berger leaned back in his chair, hands behind his head. “I’m not working the case. Go fuck yourself, Warner. I won’t do your work and let you take the glory. Find another sucker to milk dry.”

“You’re part of the case now. You slept with Beth Marie. We have a few questions to ask. We better get answers we like.”

Color flushed Berger’s face. “I’m a cop. You couldn’t think
I
killed her?”

“I’ll be asking the questions. Not you.”

Logan stepped back and allowed Berger to lead the way. No one had witnessed their confrontation in the squad room because of the early hour. Roll call for patrolmen would be in a few minutes, so they were either in the locker room or headed to their briefing.

Berger walked stiffly. Logan wondered if this man, whom he’d worked next to for years, could be a cold-blooded killer.

One who had the gall to run for police chief.

Berger reached the interrogation room and entered, slamming the door back against the wall. Brad waited at the table, stacks of filled manila folders and yellow legal pads in front of him.

He brightened at their arrival. “Glad you could make it, Berger.”

Logan frowned at the sarcasm. Risedale wanted it clean and mean. Logan intended to keep it that way.

Berger sat across from Brad. Logan remained standing. Brad looked to him to take the lead. He leaned over and turned on the video camera.

“Let the record reflect that it is Monday, May tenth, at 6:49 A.M. Present are Detectives Brad Patterson and Logan Warner interviewing Detective Seth Berger regarding his relationship with homicide victim Beth Marie Sizemore, killed two days ago.”

“You haven’t read me my rights.” Berger glared at Logan, his thin face drawn and suddenly much older than his years.

“We don’t suspect you of a crime,” Brad informed Berger. “Yet.”

“This is routine background information,” Logan added. “You don’t need your rights read to you.”

Berger looked both of them over. “Maybe I should ask for an attorney anyway.”

Logan shrugged. “It’s up to you, but this is routine, Seth.” He proceeded to read him his rights and asked if Berger understood them. He paused, then aimed for a friendly tone. “We’re looking into Beth Marie’s background. Charting her moves. Seeing what we can find.”

“Well, I’m not a murderer. Especially the Roy G. Biv variety. The only thing I’ve ever killed is deer.
In
season.”

“Could you tell us how you met Beth Marie Sizemore?” Logan sat next to Brad.

Berger shrugged. “It’s a small town. I can’t remember a time when I didn’t know her. Now did we meet in the sandbox or at Vacation Bible School or the Fourth of July parade? I don’t know. We’ve had a passing acquaintance for years.”

Logan’s hands balled into fists under the table. “When did your relationship move beyond acquaintance? Especially since you have to be a good dozen years older than Ms. Sizemore. I doubt you were playground buddies.”

“We ran into each other at the drugstore a few weeks ago. Talked a bit in the toothpaste aisle. I asked her out. She said okay. We went.”

“Where did you go?”

“Took a picnic over to the lake one Saturday afternoon. She fried chicken and made potato salad. I picked up the beer and some cookies at the bakery. We ate, talked. Left when the mosquitoes started eating us up.”

“Did you see her after that?”

“Once. She mentioned she liked a movie called
Love Actually
. I found it for five bucks in a bin at Walmart the next day. Called her up and said I’d bring it over. Picked up a six-pack on the way.”

“And?” Logan prompted.

“We watched it. Pretty lame. Drank the six-pack during. Then moved into the bedroom after.” Berger snorted. “For all her talk, Beth Marie wasn’t all that hot in the sack. I didn’t call her after that. Was a week later that she turned up dead.”

“And you had no contact with her after that Sunday?”

“No. No desire to.”

“How many relationships have you been involved in, Mr. Berger?”

Berger glared at him. “None of your damn business.”

Logan pressed on. “Wouldn’t you characterize yourself as a bit of a loner? I haven’t heard of you dating anyone since your divorce ten years ago.”

“I go out some. Truth is, I like my own company best. I’m quiet by nature. Like to fish and hunt on my own. Work pretty much fulfills my socialization needs. I enjoy being by myself.”

“Can you verify where you were this past Friday night?”

“No. Didn’t know I’d need an alibi.”

Logan stared at Berger. The silence hung. Finally, Berger started up again.

“I left work about six-thirty. Grabbed a cheeseburger and shake at the diner. No, wait. It was meat loaf ‘cause that was the special. Burger was Thursday night. Made it home around eight. Didn’t see anyone or leave again till the next morning around four when I went fishing. By myself.”

Logan watched Brad scribble a few notes. He knew from reading the crime scene reports that no physical evidence tied Berger to the homicide. Nothing circumstantial linked him to Beth Marie or any other victim in Roy’s spree. And Seth Berger was a cop. If he were Roy, though Logan doubted he was, he would know how to beat the system.

“Have you two interviewed Dick Sizemore? He was giving Beth Marie fits. Holding out on alimony. She was ready to drag him into court. You need to give him a hard look. The ex is always suspect in my book. Of course, I do have more experience than you do.”

Logan let the sour remark slide. “Thanks for your time. You’re free to go.” Berger didn’t hesitate and exited the interview room quickly. Logan turned off the camera.

Brad shot his empty cup into the trash can. “Does he think we’re idiots? Of course we talked to Sizemore right after we saw the crime scene. Besides, that idiot isn’t smart enough to plan and execute what we saw. And the fact that he was banging the dealership’s receptionist most of Friday night and all day Saturday sure cleared him.”

Brad slammed a hand down on the table. “Back to square one.”

Risedale walked in. “That was a big fat nothing. And let’s face it—Berger’s too slippery to be nailed in a simple interrogation.”

“I don’t think it’s him,” Logan said. “Gut feeling.”

“So if it wasn’t Berger, who was it?” Brad asked.