“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?