by Paige Tyler
Logan ignored the question and walked into the bedroom. Inside the doorway, he stopped as he took in the gruesome scene. Holy shit. Marissa Day hadn’t been killed. She’d been butchered. He’d seen his share of murder scenes, but never anything like this. There was blood everywhere—the bed, the walls, the floor. It was even spattered on the ceiling. He could only imagine the fury it took to do something like this. Del Vecchio was one sadistic bastard.
Behind him, Logan heard Presley gasp. He turned to see her standing there wide-eyed, a look of horror on her face. Dammit, he knew she shouldn’t have come in.
She opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Finally, she shook her head, whirled around and ran back into the living room. Logan started to follow, but Muncie’s voice stopped him.
“Is she okay?”
Logan turned to look at the other man. While he would rather have gone after her, he knew the faster he checked the place out, the faster he could get Presley home. She’d be safe out in the living room. There were cops all over the place. “Yeah. She’ll be fine.”
Logan reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his EMF meter. Even though he knew what he’d find, he turned it on and did a quick scan of the room anyway. Sure enough, the needle jumped and the thing started beeping like crazy. While Logan knew the meter would show a reading, he hadn’t expected it to be that strong, especially since it had been hours since the murder. He considered the possibility Del Vecchio might still be lurking somewhere, but quickly discounted it. If Del Vecchio was there, he’d more likely be hanging around outside in the crowd, as he had that night when the newspaper photographer snapped his picture.
“What the hell is that thing?” Muncie asked, looking at the meter.
Logan turned off the detector and put it back in his pocket. “Nothing.”
He looked around the room one more time, then went back into the living room. His gut tensed when he didn’t see Presley anywhere, but then he spotted her standing in the hallway and he relaxed again.
He looked at Muncie. “I need you to do something for me.”
“Is it related to this case?”
“In a way.” Logan kept his voice low so that no one else in the room would hear. “I need you to check Carson Del Vecchio’s phone records for the past few months and let me know who he talked to on a regular basis.”
All it would take was a good list of suspects. Then he could get Finley to scrub the list for anyone who might be involved in the paranormal.
Muncie frowned in confusion. “What? Del Vecchio…the first serial killer who…” He broke off and looked at Presley still standing in the hallway, then back at him. “The one she pushed off the balcony?”
Logan nodded.
Muncie’s frown deepened. “What the hell does he have to with this?”
Logan hoped Muncie would be so worried about solving the case that he wouldn’t ask too many questions.
“Look, Muncie, I need you to trust me on this one, okay?”
The other man’s face darkened. “Like hell I will. If you have a reason to think one of Del Vecchio’s buddies is copycatting his murders, then why not say so? What the hell are you hiding?”
Logan didn’t say anything.
“Dammit, Logan!” Muncie snapped loud enough for his fellow detectives and the crimes scene techs to look up from what they were doing. He muttered something under his breath and lowered his voice. “You haven’t been off the force for so long you forgot you can’t sit on info like this. If you know something, you need to tell me.”
Logan clenched his jaw. He knew where Muncie was coming from because he’d been there himself. His friend was frustrated as hell because he was into something that was way over his head, and he knew it. But Logan couldn’t come clean with him. Not yet. Hell, maybe not ever.
“Muncie, you already know this isn’t a simple copycat killer. That’s why you asked me to come here tonight. You know I can help you end this son of a bitch. Well, that’s what I’m trying to do. But I need you to do what I’m asking and not come at me with questions you don’t want the answers to. Okay?”
The muscle in the side of Muncie’s jaw flexed as he wrestled with what Logan was asking. Finally, he nodded. “Okay, I’ll do your digging. But when this is done, I’m going to ask those questions and you’re going to give me the answers.”
Logan inclined his head. “If you still want to know by then, I will.”
Muncie gave him a stiff nod, then walked off to talk to one of the techs. Logan left the detective to finish the worthless examination of the crime scene and went to find Presley.
She was still standing in the same spot, but he was relieved to see she didn’t look quite as pale as she had back in the apartment.
He reached out to brush her hair back from her face. “You okay?”
She gave him a sheepish look. “Yeah. I’m sorry about running out of there. It’s just that there was so much blood and…”
“Shh, don’t worry about it. I didn’t want you going in there in the first place. It’s been a long night. Let’s go home and get some sleep.”
When she nodded, he took her hand and turned to head for the elevator. They hadn’t gone more than a few feet before Presley stopped short. Frowning, Logan turned and was surprised to see the color drain from her face. At first, he thought she was experiencing some kind of delayed reaction to seeing all the blood back in the apartment, but then he realized her gaze was locked on something down the hall.
There was the only thing Logan could think of that would make Presley go almost catatonic like she was—Del Vecchio. Logan jerked around, instinctively reaching for the sawed-off shotgun holstered under his jacket, cops be damned.
But there was no serial-killing ghost standing at the end of the hallway. Just a detective talking to a paramedic.
He turned back to Presley. “Hey, you okay?”
She didn’t answer, but only continued to stare at the two men.
He slipped a finger beneath her chin, gently urging her to look at him. “Presley honey, what’s wrong?”
She stared blankly at him for a moment, then blinked in confusion. “Wh-what?”
“What made you stop? Did you see Del Vecchio?”
She shook her head. “No. I saw that paramedic and…and it took me back to the night Darla was murdered.”
Logan glanced down the hallway where the paramedic was still talking to the detective, then turned back to Presley. “Memory is strange. Sometimes, you’ll see something or someone and it’ll transport you back in time, make you think you’re there again.”
“It probably wouldn’t even have triggered anything if he wasn’t the same paramedic who showed up at my place that night,” she murmured. “I remember him leaning over me before I passed out. It all came back to me when I saw him just now and for a minute, I was lying on that floor again, bleeding and terrified I was going to die.”
Logan put his arms around her and held her close. He hated seeing Presley so frightened. He was great at shooting monsters, but when it came to saying the right thing in situations like this, he was crappy. He wanted to kill Del Vecchio all over again for the hell that asshole had put her through.
“You’re with me now and you’re safe. Del Vecchio’s never going to hurt you again.”
Taking her hand, he started for the elevator again. This time, though, he was the one who stopped.
“What is it?” Presley asked.
He looked at her. “Are you sure he’s the same paramedic?”
She nodded. “Positive. Why?”
Logan didn’t answer. He was too busy thinking of what Dillon Reynolds had said about Del Vecchio having a partner in crime. He knew it sounded crazy, but he couldn’t shake the idea the paramedic might be the guy. Stamford was a city with a lot of paramedics. What were the chances of the same one responding to both Presley’s apartment the night she was attacked and that of the serial killer’s latest victim? A lot of paramedics could work their wh
ole career and never respond to even one scene like this, much less two.
Turning around, he led Presley back into the apartment and walked straight up to Muncie. The detective was talking to the young cop who had been standing guard at the door when they’d first arrived. He stopped talking to look at Logan questioningly
“I have someone I want you to check out, see if his number shows up on Del Vecchio’s phone records,” Logan said.
“Who?” Muncie asked.
“The paramedic talking to the detective out in the hallway.”
Muncie’s mouth tightened. “You have a reason to think he has something to do with these murders or you following another hunch?”
Why the hell couldn’t Muncie ever make anything easy? “I have a feeling about him, that’s all.”
“A feeling?” The uniform cop looked at Logan incredulously. “Detective, there’s no way that paramedic could get past all the guests and into the bedroom to murder someone, then get back out without anyone seeing him. Not unless he can make himself invisible.”
Muncie gave the other cop a dark look that immediately shut the younger man up, before turning back to Logan. “I don’t have a clue where this is heading, but I’ve gone on less. I’ll check him out, see if there’s a connection between him and…the other guy.”
Logan nodded. “Thanks.”
Out in the hallway, the paramedic was still talking to the detective and Logan led Presley past the two men as quickly as he could without looking suspicious. Though the paramedic glanced at them, he didn’t give any indication he recognized Presley.
“Do you think the paramedic could be involved in this?” she asked after the elevator doors closed and they were alone.
Logan shook his head. “I don’t know. But I’ve always trusted my gut and right now it’s telling me to check him out.”
She wrapped her arms around herself. “I don’t understand. If he was Del Vecchio’s partner, why not let me die that night?”
“Maybe that’s not his thing,” Logan said. “Maybe he got off on looking at Del Vecchio’s handiwork.”
She grimaced. “That’s sick.”
It was also the perfect arrangement, not to mention reason enough to bring the serial killer back from the dead.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
LOGAN WAS QUIET on the drive back to his place. That was okay with Presley. She was too preoccupied with her thoughts to talk much anyway. She couldn’t stop thinking about the poor woman Del Vecchio had murdered. Marissa Day must have been terrified when his ghost suddenly appeared out of nowhere with that wicked looking knife in his hand. There was no way she could have gotten away from the serial killer trapped in a room with him. Presley could only imagine how he must have toyed with the woman before killing her. The memory of Presley’s own attack suddenly flashed into her head and she swallowed hard. How many more women had to die at the hands of that butcher before Logan stopped him?
She frowned as she abruptly remembered something Muncie had said back at the crime scene. She set her purse on the counter then turned to look at Logan. “Muncie said Marissa Day fit the same profile as the other victims. He meant she looked like me, didn’t he?”
Logan hesitated for a moment before answering. “Yes.”
“Del Vecchio killed her because he couldn’t get to me, didn’t he?”
Logan’s brows drew together. “Del Vecchio killed her because he’s a violent murderer.”
“But he’s picking his victims because they remind him of me. You said so yourself the other night. He substituted her for me because she was blond and looks like me, just as he substituted those four other women he’s killed since he came back.” Tears stung Presley’s eyes. “Maybe we should give him what he wants so all this can stop.”
Logan’s frown deepened. “What are you talking about?”
“That I should let him do what he came back here for and get it over with.”
“You don’t mean that, Presley.”
A tear leaked from the corner of her eye and she wiped it away. “Yes, I do. I don’t want to do it, but I can’t let him murder any more women because of me.”
He closed the distance between them to take her in his arms. “I understand what you’re going through but offering yourself up to Del Vecchio on a silver platter won’t solve anything. That asshole had been killing women long before you ever pushed him off that balcony. Even if he succeeded in killing you—which I’m not going to let happen, by the way—he won’t stop. He’ll keep murdering innocent women, whether they remind him of you or not. He’s not going to turn off because you’re gone.”
Logan’s heart beat slow and steady beneath Presley’s ear and she drew strength as much from the rhythmic sound as she did from his words. He was right, of course. Giving herself over to Del Vecchio so he could kill her wouldn’t stop him from committing more murders. The only way to put an end to the killings was to rid the world of his ghost.
She lifted her head to look at Logan. “Promise me you’ll figure out a way to stop him before he kills again.”
Logan smoothed her hair back with a gentle hand. “I’m going to do everything I can, honey. If I’m right about the paramedic being involved, he should be able to lead me right to Del Vecchio’s body.”
Presley grimaced at the mention of the paramedic. She’d been so focused on the woman who’d been murdered that she’d forgotten all about the guy. She was still creeped out by the idea he might have chosen that line of work because he got off on seeing murder victims. Talk about depraved.
“Just thinking about that sicko leaning over me makes my skin crawl.” She shuddered. “I’m going to take a shower and try to wash some of the stench of this night off me. How about you?”
“Yeah, I could use one, too,” Logan admitted. “Want me to come in and scrub your back for you?”
She smiled. “I’d like that.”
As he took her hand and led her into the bathroom, Presley tried to push Del Vecchio, the paramedic, and the gruesome crime scene from her mind. Unfortunately, that was a lot easier said than done. After she and Logan had both undressed and stepped into the warm shower, some of the tension finally started to disappear.
Grabbing the shower gel she’d brought from her sister’s place, Logan squeezed some into his hands, then slowly ran them over her naked body. He started at her shoulders, massaging them until all the tightness there was completely gone before working his way down her back.
“Mmm,” she breathed.
“Does that feel good?” Logan’s deep voice was soft in her ear.
“Very good.”
He reached around to her front, his hands lingering on her tummy for a moment before moving up to cup her breasts.
“How about this?” he asked as he played with her nipples.
Presley sighed and leaned back against the hard wall of his chest, letting her head rest on his shoulder. “Mm-hmm. You’re very good with your hands, did you know that?”
He chuckled softly. “I’m glad you think so.”
She hadn’t planned on sex being part of the equation when they’d stepped into the shower, but as Logan continued to pay a considerable amount of attention to her breasts, heat pooled between her thighs. He was unbelievably good not only at relaxing her but getting her hot and bothered as well.
Releasing her breasts, he reached up to tilt the shower head so that warm water cascaded over them and rinsed off the soap. Presley opened her mouth to point out he hadn’t washed her other parts, but all that came out was another sigh as he pressed his muscular body up against hers again. His erection was hard and throbbing against her ass, telling her how aroused he was. Nice to know she was as good at getting him all bothered, too. When he cupped her breasts this time, he bent his head to trail hot kisses down her neck and she shivered with pleasure.
She barely had time to process how wonderful what he was doing felt before he slid one hand down her tummy to the juncture of her thighs. Finding her clit, he made slow, rhythm
ic circles on the sensitive nub with his fingers.
Presley reached back to grasp his muscular thigh with her hand, rotating her hips in time with his fingers. Logan let out a husky groan of approval in her ear as she rubbed up against his shaft. Moving away from her clit, he slipped his hand between her legs and slid his finger inside her.
Presley gasped, her pussy clenching tightly around his finger.
“You’re so wet,” he rasped.
She laughed lightly. “We are in the shower.”
He chuckled softly. “That’s not what I’m talking about and you know it.”
Oh, she knew it all right. But all she could do was moan as he slid his finger in and out. Just when she thought he was going to drive her insane, he moved back to her clit to make little circular motions again. But he wouldn’t let her come. Right when she was close to the edge, he stopped what he was doing and moved back down to slide his finger in her pussy again.
While she loved all the teasing, she’d had enough foreplay. She needed him inside her. Now.
Turning in his arms, she wrapped her hand around the back of his head and pulled him down for a long, searing kiss. Murmuring something against her mouth, Logan urged her backward until she was against the shower wall, then he grasped her ass in both hands and lifted her up, burying himself inside her in one smooth motion.
As he filled her, Presley wrapped her legs around him and squeezed him tight. For some reason, their joining seemed even more intense than all the other times they’d made love and she clung to him as he pumped into her fast and hard. Each thrust of his hips shoved her back against the wall so forcefully she could barely catch her breath, but she didn’t care. What he was doing felt too damn good and she didn’t ever want him to stop. She wanted to get completely lost in him.
“Harder,” she demanded breathlessly.
Logan obeyed, tightening his grip on her ass and thrusting into her even more fiercely. When her climax finally washed over her, it was in a tidal wave of ecstasy so intense it brought tears to her eyes and all she could do was cling to him and let the pleasure take her. Logan’s groans of release were hoarse in her ear, but she was so caught up in the flood of emotions coursing through her that she barely even heard him. She’d never experienced an orgasm that was so powerful, both physically and emotionally. Maybe because she’d never felt as close to any man as she felt to Logan at that moment.
