Illusions of Death by Lauren Linwood

impossible to read—but anything from the sacred mind of Broderick Campbell was like manna from heaven in the book world. Somehow Snow crafted it into a readable form, and a novel appeared, gracing the top of the bestseller list before it even shipped.
    As an unpublished author, her experience differed wildly. From formatting to grammar to engaging characters and an enticing plot, she’d aimed for perfection with that first manuscript. She realized fortune smiled upon her when her work got pulled from the slush pile.
    A small part of her wished she’d chosen a pen name. When her connection to Broderick came out, she downplayed it, repeating in numerous interviews that she wanted to be judged on her own merit. Fortunately, readers wanted exciting plots, fearless characters, and surprise endings. Karlyn learned how to deliver all three with a bang, no matter what genre.
    Karlyn looked at her father, the elder sage of the literary world. Sitting here did nothing for either of them. She would insist her mother take the next visit.
    Suddenly, the machine screeched, piercing the quiet.
    Logan helped Loretta Cankins from the car. One hand clutched his wrist in a death grip, her eyes wide and frightened.
    “It’s all right, Mrs. Cankins. We’re at ER. The doctors will check you over. We’ll take a few pictures of your injuries.”
    “Pictures?”
    “Yes, ma’am. To document what happened. We’ll file the complaint. A warrant will be issued for Mr. Cankins’ arrest.”
    Her bruised and bloody lips trembled. “He won’t hurt me no more?”
    “No, ma’am.” Logan led the assault victim into ER while Brad parked the car.
    He spotted a wheelchair and helped lower her into it. She grimaced, holding her ribs. When they’d arrived, Vernon Cankins was kicking the hell out of his wife on the front lawn.
    The police were familiar with Vernon’s drinking and quick fists. Uniforms went regularly to the Cankins’ house, but Loretta never would press charges. Her injuries usually occurred below the neck—out of sight and easier to hide.
    Tonight had been different. Vernon started by using her face as a punching bag. Logan doubted if they’d be able to save her left eye. She also had missing teeth. One arm hung awkwardly, probably broken. Part of him wished the law would allow Loretta to repay Vernon with the same injuries. That would be justice.
    As he pushed her to admissions, she said quietly, “I was leaving him. That’s why he snapped. Said I wouldn’t leave the house alive.” She attempted a grin. “I did leave that house alive. I made it to the front yard.”
    “You’ll make it the rest of the way, ma’am,” he assured her.
    They reached the check-in desk. The clerk had Loretta whisked away. Logan pulled a nurse aside to let her know it was a domestic violence case and what they would need. She assured him the patient would be handled with kid gloves and treated like a princess.
    Brad joined him. “Got out the APB on Vernon. I told them to start with his favorite watering hole. I’m sorry he slipped past me. Trying to give chase in Gucci loafers is not a great idea.”
    He shifted the camera in his hand. “How long till we see her?”
    “It might be a while.”
    Brad shuddered. “Did you see her eye? What kind of guy would do that to someone he loves?”
    Logan shrugged. He’d never understood violence in general and domestic violence, in particular. Not in Atlanta and especially not here in the Springs. Growing up, Walton Springs seemed to be an idyllic community. Now that he worked for law enforcement, he witnessed the dark underbelly present that could be found in every city.
    His thoughts turned to Karlyn Campbell. She’d been in the back of his mind since they’d met. Maybe he’d run up and see how her father was doing.
    “I’m going to head over to ICU for a few minutes. Get the photos. I doubt we’ll be able to get a statement now. I have a feeling Loretta’s going to need some fast work and