Cynthia Eden - The Girl Next Door

She heard the crunch of glass.

Gabrielle winced—so much for being good at crime scenes—and she bent down. She’d stepped on a frame. One that had dropped to the floor and slipped under the edge of the bed.

So Lockwood did have at least one picture.

She turned the frame over. Pieces of broken glass fell onto the bed.

Her light scanned over that photo. Her breath came faster. Her heart raced.

The picture was of Keith Lockwood. He was smiling in the picture, and he had his arm around a pretty, blonde woman.

Gabrielle easily recognized Kylie Archer. She’d seen plenty of pictures of that woman before.

What were you going to tell me about her? What? Gabrielle sure wished the dead could talk.

She backed away from the bed, still studying the photo. Backed away and backed into someone.

Someone big and strong.

Gabrielle opened her mouth to scream.

The scream never escaped because a hard hand covered her mouth. And even as that hand covered her mouth, an arm rose around Gabrielle and jerked her closer to—

“Easy,” that familiar deep voice told her, as Cooper’s breath blew against the shell of her ear. “I’m not going to hurt you, and a scream would just send the neighbors rushing to call the police.”

Because he’d scared her, Gabrielle elbowed him in the ribs. He let her go with a grunt.

Gabrielle whirled to confront him. “What are you doing here? This is a crime scene!” She aimed her light right at his face.

He winced. “Trying to blind me?”

She thought that might only be fair since he’d just tried to scare her to death.

“And, yes, I know it’s a crime scene,” he said, sounding aggrieved. “That’s why I wondered what the hell you were doing in here.”

“You followed me?” Her voice was a whisper. He must have followed her. There was no other explanation. But why?

He shrugged. “After last night, maybe I was a little worried about you.”

Oh. Wait. That was...nice.

The sneaking up on her part? Not so nice. “I didn’t even hear you.” Not so much as a sound.

“I’m used to sneaking in and out of places.”

His comment sounded a bit sinister.

“And speaking of out, we need to go.” But he was frowning now. “What are you holding?”

Her right hand gripped the flashlight. Her left still held the picture frame.

She took the light off his face and let it fall on the photo. “See how close they are? The way his hand is wrapped around her? I think Lockwood and Kylie Archer were involved.” Lovers. Their bodies rested so easily against each other. “And, judging by the way they were killed—with their throats slit and with no sign of defensive wounds on their bodies—I’m also suspecting that the same person killed them both.”

Silence.

She’d expected more after her big reveal. Gabrielle cleared her throat.

“How do you know there were no defensive wounds?” Cooper asked.

“Because I had time to check Lockwood’s body before the cops got here.” She also knew exactly what to look for regarding those types of wounds. “The thing that doesn’t fit for me is the broken lock. Kylie’s home didn’t have a broken lock. Her door was locked, from the inside, and the cops were the ones to break their way inside.”

Again...more silence. She wasn’t really used to working with someone else on her stories, but she expected him to say something.

“Uh, Cooper?”

“Leave the picture. We need to go now.”

“But I want to search some more. I need to—”

“When I parked, I saw a cop car coming down the street. I double-timed it up here to you, because I was worried the officer might be coming in for a sweep.”

Her eyes widened. She dropped the photo to the floor. Mostly in the same spot. “We need to go now.”

She grabbed his hand and rushed down the hallway.

She dodged the squeaky floorboard.

So did he.

She paused. He hadn’t stepped on the squeaky floorboard when he’d first come in the apartment, either. The squeak would have alerted her to his presence. “How did you—”

“Hurry.”

She kept going. She slid under the police tape, hustled into the hallway.

And heard footsteps.

Gabrielle darted to the edge of the stairs, and she saw the cop. Lucky for her, he was looking down, not up, so he didn’t see her.

Cooper wrapped his arm around her waist and hauled her back. “Come on.” He pulled her with him.

Lockwood’s apartment was the only one on that floor. There weren’t exactly a ton of places for them to hide.

“Storage,” he muttered, moving toward a narrow, white door.

She hadn’t even seen that door at first.

He opened it and pushed her inside.

It was the size of a closet. A very small, very overstuffed closet. Her body plastered against his.

“Not a sound,” Cooper barely breathed the words.

She gave a jerky nod. Gabrielle could hear the footsteps then. The cop going to the apartment, going right past the storage closet.

But what if he comes back?

The closet smelled of ammonia. It had to be where the cleaning supplies were kept for the building. It was pitch-dark in there, so she couldn’t see anything, and Gabrielle wasn’t about to turn on her light.

There was silence in the hallway.

She figured the silence meant that the cop had entered the apartment.

If Cooper hadn’t gotten me out of there, the cop would have walked right in on me.

Explaining her way out of that situation wouldn’t have been easy.

Cooper still had his arm around her. Her hips and derriere pressed against him. Her back was to his chest. She could feel the steady rhythm of his breaths.

He didn’t seem shaken. Not even a little.

Meanwhile her own breath seemed to heave out far too loudly.

She didn’t move, didn’t try to ease away from Cooper. She was too afraid she’d stumble onto another piece of flooring that would creak and give away their position.

After a seeming eternity, the cop’s footsteps sounded in the hallway again.

The footsteps faded away as he descended the stairs.

Her shoulders slumped. She tried to pull away from Cooper.

“Not yet. Let’s give him a chance to get good and gone.”

She stilled. Tight, dark spaces weren’t so high up on her list of favorite things. Actually, they were dead last on that list. But she wasn’t alone right then. That was something.

Cooper. Why did she feel so safe with him? A man she barely knew?

Because he just saved you and you’re going to owe him now.

“Can you try...” He whispered in her ear. She shivered as he continued, “Can you try to avoid committing any more crimes for the next few days?”

“No promises,” she whispered back. “My computer crashed, and I’m back to square one on this case.” Not totally true. She had backup files.

Not an amateur.

His hold eased. “I think we’ve waited long enough. Let’s just head out, nice and slow, okay? Follow my lead.”

Right. She could do that.

He opened the door, looked to the left and the right. He went down the stairs first. Cooper kept a tight hold on her hand when they escaped from that building.

Then they were outside. The night air was muggy and thick, and it felt like heaven after the ammonia-filled confines of that closet.

“Thanks,” she began with a weary smile, “I needed your—”

His eyes had been over her shoulder, on the street, but he suddenly grabbed her and yanked her close.

Cooper kissed her.

It wasn’t some easy, getting-to-know-you kiss. Not tentative. Not light.

It was hot. Hard. Openmouthed.

Toe-curling.

Fantastic.

His arms wrapped around her. He lifted her up against him, and Gabrielle’s toes barely skimmed the ground.