He Kills Me, He Kills Me Not Read Online Free PDF Page B

meeting was a pleasant surprise. They certainly hadn’t wasted much time driving in from the Jacksonville field office four hours away.
    He shook the other man’s hand. “Call me Logan. Thanks for getting here so quickly.” He introduced Riley and the other detectives sitting around the room.
    “I’m Special Agent Pierce Buchanan. We spoke on the phone.” He introduced each of the men who’d accompanied him.
    “Welcome to the Panhandle,” Logan said, motioning to some empty chairs as he sat down. “I wish it were under better circumstances.”
    “Trust me, I’d rather be here than anywhere else right now. This could be the break I’ve been looking for.”
    One of the FBI agents whispered something to Pierce. He nodded and looked at Logan. “Mind if we set up some photos and diagrams around the room?”
    “Not at all.”
    Two of the special agents set briefcases on the table, and started piling the contents onto the conference room table and sorting it into stacks. Two other men began taping photographs onto the white board that ran along the back wall.
    Pierce folded his arms across his chest as he stood beside Logan’s chair. “I’m convinced your killer is the same killer I’ve been chasing for the past couple of years.”
    “And the Branson case we discussed on the phone?”
    “From the photographs and case notes you emailed me, the signature fits. If so, this guy has operated longer than we thought. I’m surprised we didn’t hear about the Branson case before now. Is your station set up on VICAP?”
    Logan hesitated. The previous chief of police hadn’t bothered to link the Shadow Falls PD with the FBI’s Violent Criminal Apprehension Program database. As a result, the Branson case was never reported to the FBI. If it had been, the FBI would have sent an automatic notification back to the SFPD when a similar murder occurred. The SFPD could have teamed up with the FBI years ago. Maybe they could have solved the case and prevented Carolyn O’Donnell’s death.
    “We’re set up with VICAP now,” he said, not willing to air his grievances with the former police chief in front of his men.
    Pierce gave him an assessing glance. “You weren’t the chief when the Branson case happened?”
    It sounded more like a statement than a question, but Logan answered anyway. “I worked in New York City for most of the past decade.”
    “New York? I thought your name sounded familiar. You cracked the Metzger case, didn’t you? Hell of a job.”
    Silence filled the room, and every eye turned to Logan. Metzger was a serial killer who’d plagued New York for fifteen months, killing a dozen women before Logan was put on the case. He’d solved it in less than three weeks. But he was never comfortable with the accolades he’d received. He’d simply come at the case with fresh eyes, saw a pattern others would have seen if they weren’t so close to it.
    “What can you tell us about the killer?” Logan asked, steering the conversation back to what was important.
    Pierce nodded, not looking the least bit offended by the gruff response. He was all business as he turned to his men and directed them at tacking up pieces of paper and pictures on the dry erase board. By now, it was covered with photographs of women who looked remarkably similar. They were all young, slim, white females with long brown hair.
    A stab of guilt shot through Logan when a picture of Carolyn O’Donnell was added to the board. He didn’t know what else he could have done to find her in time, but it still bothered him that he hadn’t saved her.
    He now realized that even if his men had told him about the Branson/Stockton case right when O’Donnell went missing, it wouldn’t have mattered. After reading through the old case file yesterday afternoon and learning that Dana Branson was killed in one of the cabins on Black Lake, he’d sent his men to search that area. The cabins were rotting and run-down, unused for years since a drought