Van’s body hit the floor seconds later.
The killer smiled. So easy. So incredibly—
Voices rose in the hallway. And one of those voices was familiar.
Cooper Marshall.
He stared down at the bloody knife in his hand and considered his options.
Chapter Four
“You’re not coming in with me,” Gabrielle said as she glanced over her shoulder. She kept her voice firm, authoritative. In this partnership, she was the one doing the paying, so it seemed fair that she got to be the one giving orders. Right? “You’re to stay out here.” She gestured toward him, then toward the small hallway. “Lurk. Make sure that no one else comes up here and tries to get in this apartment.”
Because she was following a red-hot lead—one that she wasn’t about to lose.
Kylie Archer had been murdered, and her boyfriend had also been killed in the same manner.
Now that Melanie Farrell was dead, would her boyfriend also follow suit? If the killer acted on the same time line, he could wait months to kill Melanie’s lover.
That means I have time to talk to him, to warn him.
To save him?
Cooper didn’t follow her lurk order. He stepped closer to her. “You need to tell me why we’re here.”
“I did.” On the motorcycle ride over, she’d yelled to him—twice—that she was following up on a lead. Her hand lifted and rapped against the apartment’s door. She’d called and said she was coming by. The guy had been home an hour ago.
“A boyfriend,” he said.
Still not lurking.
“I talked to Melanie’s friend at work. Melanie’s family didn’t know about the guy, but if you’re in deep with someone, the best friend always knows.” It was a woman’s rule. “Melanie called once and had Trish pick her up from this place. I did a little dot connecting, and I found the single guy in the apartment building who fit his description.” A guy who was still not answering the door. “And voilà, I got him!”
“You got him,” Cooper repeated, voice roughening.
She nodded but froze when she heard the distinct sound of glass shattering. That sound had come from inside the apartment.
Her fingers curled around the doorknob and she jerked, hard. “Mr. McAdams!”
Cooper stiffened.
“Van McAdams!” Gabrielle yelled. “It’s Gabrielle Harper. We spoke earlier! Please, open up.”
Cooper grabbed her shoulders and pushed her away from the door. In the next instant, he had a gun in his hands.
He’d just yanked that thing right out of his ankle holster, and he had it aimed at the door.
“What are you doing?” Gabrielle whispered, horrified. Her gaze flew down the hallway. “You can’t just pull out a gun!”
“Two dead bodies, that’s what I’ve found since I’ve been hanging out with you. I’m not in the mood for body number three.” He squared his shoulders and called out, “Van, open the damn door, or I will bust my way inside.”
The door didn’t open.
Gabrielle started counting in her head. One, two, thr—
Cooper kicked the door open and rushed inside. He’d only taken about five steps when he froze—then dropped to the floor.
Because there was a man on the floor, a man sprawled in a pool of blood.