“I know you well enough to realize you aren’t a killer.”
He gazed steadily back at her. “Do you?”
What kind of response was that? It almost sounded as if he were trying to scare her. “Look, it wasn’t your voice.”
Cooper held up a hand. “You’ve lost me.”
“I remember hearing a man’s voice. It wasn’t your voice.”
Now there was doubt in his blue eyes. Lane had looked at her with the same doubt when she’d tried to explain this situation to him.
His hand fell back to his side. “There was a lot going on that night. It would be easy to get confused. Especially with that bump on your head.”
“A minor concussion.” She waved it away.
He stepped from the counter and caught her hand. “You don’t shrug away an injury like that. Head injuries can be dangerous.”
When he touched her, her heart beat faster. An electric current seemed to run through her body. Just from a touch. “That’s why I stayed in the hospital. To make sure everything was okay.” And because her boss at the paper had insisted on it. Hugh had told her she either stayed or she looked for a new job.
He didn’t take kindly to his reporters being hurt.
She didn’t take kindly to being hurt. “I know what I heard.”
His gaze turned guarded. “Then tell me.”
“A man grabbed me in that alley. He told me that I was in the wrong place.” The memory of that rasping voice rolled through her mind. “And then he said...not yet.”
A muscle flexed in his jaw. “You don’t remember his face?”
“I remember the feel of his hands grabbing me. I remember the rasp of his voice, but his face?” If only. “No, I don’t remember that. I’m not even sure if I saw him. I was hoping that maybe you’d seen something.”
“You were the only thing I saw.”
He turned away from her. Cooper spent a few moments in silence as he finished preparing their meal.
“It could’ve been a mugger,” she said to his back, as he reached for some plates. “I didn’t have a purse with me, so maybe that’s why he ran after I passed out.”
“It could have been.” He shut the cabinets with a rough motion of his hands.
“It could also have been the killer.” That was her fear. Her suspicion. “I think he escaped the apartment by climbing down the fire escape. He fled through that alley. Maybe he dropped something. Maybe he had to go back for it.” She followed him to the table. “Or maybe he was just one of those guys who enjoys going back to the scene of the crime. Someone who likes to watch the cops spin their wheels and come up with nothing.”
He pulled out a chair for her. “Is that what the cops have?”
She eased into the seat. “Lane says there aren’t any suspects. No prints, DNA or any other evidence was left at the scenes.”
He sat across from her. He picked up his fork.
“I went back to all the crime scenes—” Gabrielle began.
The fork clattered against his plate.
“I didn’t break in,” she rushed to clarify, realizing how he must have interpreted her words. “I looked behind the buildings. Kylie Archer’s place had a fire escape, too. The killer could easily have escaped on it.”
“Lockwood didn’t have a fire escape.”
“No, he didn’t.” The spaghetti smelled fabulous. “But then again, maybe that’s the reason why Lockwood’s front door was smashed in. The attacker didn’t have any other way to get inside, so he had to use force there.”
Cooper ate in silence.