THE GIRL NEXT DOOR

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THE GIRL NEXT DOOR Page 10

by Cynthia Eden


  The smile hid the fact that I’m really starting to hate that cop.

  “Cooper isn’t a threat to me. He and I are the ones that are giving you leads, so you need to back off,” Gabrielle’s voice was fierce.

  Carmichael didn’t look like he was ready to back anyplace.

  “I don’t think you should trust him,” Carmichael muttered.

  “I do, though. Because he’s had my back every step of the way.”

  No, he hadn’t. Shame twisted with the jealousy inside of him.

  “And speaking of leads...” Gabrielle said as she pushed back her hair. “We have to follow one now.” She put her hand on Cooper’s arm, but her stare was on the cop’s face. “If we find out anything you can use, I’ll contact you. Just like always—before I put anything in the paper.”

  So that was part of their relationship. Carmichael had been busting lots of perps in the past six months, earning commendations...with Gabrielle’s help?

  “I’ve got my phone on me,” she added. “You can call me if you need to reach me, Lane.”

  The detective leaned toward her. “And if you need me, anytime or anyplace, you call. Don’t let me find out about a break-in the next day, got it? I...care about you. Remember that.”

  Then he was gone, storming toward the lobby’s doors.

  Cooper didn’t move. Emotion had been thick in the cop’s voice.

  “I really do have a lead for us to follow,” Gabrielle said, sighing. “That wasn’t just me trying to get rid of him.”

  He turned his head. Found her eyes on him. “You were the one to break things off.”

  Gabrielle winced. “You think you figured us out. Just after that little chat?”

  He thought he wanted to know everything about the cop right then. Carmichael had torn into his past—turnabout would only be fair.

  “No, not yet.” He would though.

  For now, he took her hand, threaded his fingers through hers. Even though his hand was so much bigger than hers, they seemed to fit. “So...where’s this lead?”

  She gave him a half smile. “Hope you don’t mind a little trip to jail. Because that’s exactly where we’re headed.”

  Chapter Seven

  She was burning through her favors at an insanely fast rate.

  Gabrielle walked through the Department of Corrections, her heels clicking lightly on the floor. She’d had to use two favors just to get in the DOC—and to get access to Johnny Zacks.

  Johnny was awaiting sentencing for a heist he’d done a month ago. Another jewelry store break-in, his fourth. Only this time, Johnny had gotten shot by a security guard.

  Johnny Zacks had been breaking into jewelry stores for the last few months. He was usually in and out without a trace.

  Except for this time...

  Johnny was already waiting in the room for her. He was cuffed to the table, and a bored-looking guard stood in the corner, watching him.

  “Thanks, Quent,” Gabrielle said to the guard. He’d been the one to first connect her to Johnny. Quent might look like he didn’t give a damn, but he did. The man had a giant heart.

  Quent’s head barely inclined at her words.

  Johnny, young, tan, with blond hair that was too long and wide blue eyes, glanced suspiciously at Cooper. “Who’s the muscle?”

  “My partner.” Saying that was getting easier and easier. “He’s helping me to look for your sister’s killer.”

  She felt, more than saw, Cooper’s surprise.

  “Y-you’ve got news on Kylie?” Johnny asked.

  Johnny was actually Kylie’s half brother. He’d been out of the country when she was killed, and when he’d come back and discovered that his sister had been murdered, the guy had broken apart.

  And gone on a robbery spree.

  It seemed that Johnny was the wild child in the family. Kylie had been his strength. Without her, he was still floundering.

  “I believe that the man who killed your sister has taken three more lives.”

  Johnny’s hands fisted.

  “He’s still in the city, the cops are looking for him now—”

  “Because more people are dead.” Disgust tightened Johnny’s face. “They should’ve been looking for him before! They shouldn’t have given up on Kylie!”

  “I’m not giving up on her,” Gabrielle said softly. “You know that. I gave you my word.”

  Johnny sucked in a ragged breath and nodded.

  “I need to ask you a few more questions about your sister’s boyfriend—”

  “Fiancé,” Johnny cut in, straightening. “They were getting married. She called me and told me that she was marrying Keith. She was so excited.” His voice softened. “That was the last time I talked with her. I try to remember her that way, happy, you know?”

  “I know,” she told him, her heart aching.

  Cooper pulled up a chair and sat down next to her at the table.

  Gabrielle cleared her throat. “Johnny, you told me that you met Keith a few times. Was there...anything about the guy that set off alarms for you?”

  “Alarms?” His head cocked and his face scrunched.

  Wait, wrong word. Treading more carefully, Gabrielle said, “It’s hard for me to find a lot of information on him. He’s—”

  “He was ex-military,” Johnny said at once, then he jerked his head toward Cooper. “Like him.”

  Her body tensed. “How do you know that?” She hadn’t found any enlistment records for Keith Lockwood.

  Johnny smiled. When he smiled, he looked even younger than his twenty-two years. “I can always spot ’em. Me and Kylie, we grew up bouncing around military bases. Our dad commanded one...’til he died.” His shoulders rolled back. “It’s in the walk. The posture.” He tapped his temple. “I can always tell.” He pointed at Cooper. “I pegged you the minute you walked in.”

  Cooper didn’t respond.

  “Did Lockwood say he was in the military?” Gabrielle pressed. She didn’t want to tell Johnny that she doubted his word, but—

  “Kylie told me,” he replied. “Her guy would have nightmares. Maybe flashbacks, I don’t know what they were exactly. He’d wake up, screaming about his team, about someone getting left behind.”

  Excitement had her hands trembling. “Did your sister ever mention if Lockwood worked for a specific unit?”

  Johnny shook his head. “It was some kind of black ops deal, I know that much. Kylie told me that whenever she asked Keith about it, he said he couldn’t tell her, and that man...hell, he usually told her everything. But he was walking away. They were going to start fresh.” He blinked and seemed to see the past. “Kylie was happy. Did I tell you that? When she called me, she was happy.”

  Gabrielle swallowed the knot in her throat. “You did.”

  He nodded. “Kylie liked pretty things. Things that sparkled.” His dimples flashed again. “I gave Kylie pretty things. She needed them, you know? I wanted her to go to heaven with them. So she’d sparkle up there—”

  “Johnny.” She said his name deliberately, to bring him back. The grief still got to him. Still hurt him. “I am going to find her killer. I told you I wouldn’t give up, and I won’t.”

  His head bowed. “Thank you.”

  “But you have to keep your promise, too, remember?”

  Cooper was watching them, so quiet and intense.

  “You take the plea deal, you get some counseling and you don’t ever steal again.”

  He looked up at her. “I don’t need to steal. I gave Kylie what she wanted.” His eyes narrowed. “And you’ll give her what she needs. Justice.”

  “I will.”

  A buzzer sounded then, and Quent stepped forward. “I’ve got to take Johnny back now.”

  “Than
k you.” Gabrielle rose. There were more questions she wanted to ask, but Johnny had already confirmed her growing suspicions.

  She didn’t speak again until Johnny and Quent were gone. Then she focused on Cooper. She started to tell him about her new theory, but then she hesitated. “Was he right?” Gabrielle found herself asking instead. “Are you ex-military?”

  Emotion vanished from his eyes. Strange, she could actually see the mask slipping into place. Why hadn’t she noticed that before?

  Just when she thought he wasn’t going to answer her, Cooper said, “I was.”

  “Those missing years,” she murmured. “The years Carmichael couldn’t find in your past. You were on active duty.”

  He inclined his head. “Guilty.”

  “What branch?”

  “I joined the Air Force.” There was a brief pause, then, “I was a PJ—a pararescue jumper.”

  Her eyes widened. “You jumped out of the planes.” It wasn’t the jumping out that was the danger—it was what he jumped into that could be so terrifying.

  “I did my job,” Cooper said simply.

  Talk about a major understatement. She’d read reports on PJs before. Those guys jumped into infernos, into war zones and even into the paths of hurricanes.

  She rocked back on her heels. “No wonder you were used to the adrenaline rushes.”

  “Told you,” he said as his eyes glinted, “I’ve got plenty of experience with them.”

  “Why’d you give it up?” Gabrielle asked him. “What made you turn away from that life?”

  “Because I got a better offer.” He shrugged, as if the change didn’t matter. “I get to make my rules now, and I’m still helping people.”

  She smiled at him. “Yes, you are.” She headed for the door. “Johnny gave us a real lead in there.” They cleared the guard areas and headed back outside. “I already know that Van McAdams was in the military.”

  “How are you so sure?”

  The sun glared down on them in the parking lot as they paused near his motorcycle.

  “The killer sliced his neck open.” She pulled in a deep breath. “And he sliced through the dog tags that were around Van’s throat. I saw the dog tags in the blood near him.” She gave a firm nod. “That’s two men dead, both men who were in the military—”

  “Plenty of people were in the military.” He didn’t seem to be jumping on board with her idea.

  Maybe he needed more of a push. Shading her eyes, she told him, “I want to find out what, where and when they served. If Lockwood and McAdams were together, if they knew each other...that could lead us to the killer.”

  Thunder rumbled in the distance. A storm would be hitting that night. But that still left them with plenty of time to follow up on more leads.

  “We’re getting closer,” Gabrielle whispered. “I can feel it. I—” She broke off when her phone began to ring. Gabrielle yanked it out of her bag and she frowned when she saw Blocked on the caller ID.

  “Is it Carmichael?” Cooper asked as he pressed closer. “Has he found something new?”

  She swiped her finger across the screen so she could take the call. “Harper,” she said.

  “He’s not who you think...” The voice was low, rasping, and she had to strain to hear the words.

  Gabrielle put her hand over her left ear, trying to drown out the noise from the lot and the street as she focused on the call. “I can’t hear you—say that again.”

  “Cooper Marshall isn’t who you think...” The voice was still low, still rasping, as if the caller were trying to disguise his voice.

  But this time, she clearly understood his words. Her gaze flew to Cooper. He frowned back at her.

  “He’s right there, in front of you, and he’s lying to you.” A rough laugh. “Lying right to your face.”

  Her stare slid away from Cooper and she scanned the lot. “You’re watching me.”

  More laughter. “You interest me. You shouldn’t have even been in the game, yet here you are, leading the race.”

  “I didn’t realize we were playing a game.” There was no accent to his voice, at least, not one that she could detect.

  “Of course, winner kills all—”

  Fear had her voice cracking as she said, “People’s lives aren’t part of a game!” Then she mouthed It’s him to Cooper.

  Cooper immediately tried to reach for the phone, but she backed away from him.

  “Good, good,” the voice in her ear praised her. “Don’t let him get too close. That’s what he’s trying to do. Get close to you. Lie to you. Use you.”

  Like she was going to believe a killer.

  “He’s not who you think...don’t trust the wrong man. Doing that will just get you killed.”

  Then the line went dead.

  For a moment, she didn’t move at all. Where is he?

  “Gabrielle?” Cooper touched her arm.

  She flinched. “He’s here. He’s watching us.” She spun around, her gaze searching all around the area.

  Cooper took the phone from her. He tried to do a call return.

  “You can’t,” she said, her eyes still scanning the area. “He blocked the call.”

  Cooper pulled her back toward the shelter of the building. Cars were in front of them. The heavy stone of the building behind them. As far as protection went, it sure seemed like a good spot to her.

  Cooper put his phone to his ear. A few seconds later, he said, “Rachel, the SOB just called Gabrielle. See if...if Sydney,” he said as his gaze fell away from Gabrielle’s, “can hack into the system and find him.”

  She figured Sydney must be another one of his useful friends. Those friends were sure coming in handy.

  “She says that he’s watching us,” Cooper continued. “We’re at the DOC. Yeah, yeah, I want a search.”

  A search for the killer sounded like an excellent plan to her.

  “I’m going now. I’m sending Gabrielle back in with the guards.”

  Whoa, he was benching her?

  He ended the call and secured the phone back in his pocket. His stare leveled on her. “Get inside. Stay there until I come for you.”

  “While you face him alone?” That sounded like a horrible plan.

  His smile was grim. “You don’t need to worry about me. I’ve got this.”

  He was cold and deadly and he didn’t show even a hint of fear.

  He’s not who you think.

  “Get inside,” Cooper ordered her.

  Now she knew why he seemed to be so good at giving orders. That was the military in him, coming out.

  Only she wasn’t so good at following orders. Especially in a partnership. “I’ll call Carmichael.”

  His jaw hardened. “Do what you need to do.”

  Uh, calling the cops counted as doing what she needed to do.

  “I have to know that you’re safe, Gabrielle, or I can’t look for him. Every minute we waste...he could be getting away.”

  She managed a nod, but she sure wasn’t happy about him racing out alone. Then she was inside and he just—gone in an instant. She glanced around, looking through the window, but she could find no trace of him.

  A chill settled over her as she kept staring outside.

  Don’t trust the wrong man. Doing that will just get you killed.

  She didn’t plan on dying.

  * * *

  “THE KILLER JUST made contact with Gabrielle Harper,” Bruce Mercer said as he lowered the phone back onto his desk. His gaze lifted and locked on Noelle Evers.

  The FBI profiler had arrived less than an hour ago. She’d come right to him so that he could begin briefing her on the hell they faced.

  Outsiders didn’t normally get this close to the EOD. Noelle Evers had pa
ssed one very thorough background check in order to get her insider access.

  But he trusted Noelle—mostly because he knew her secrets.

  Behind her glasses, Noelle’s eyes widened. She’d pulled the glasses out a few moments before to begin reading the files that he’d gathered for her.

  “That’s a very dangerous sign,” she said.

  He didn’t need to be told that.

  “But...that’s also something we can use,” Noelle continued. “If the reporter can draw the killer out, then the authorities will have a better chance of catching him—”

  “The local cops aren’t catching him. The EOD is containing him.”

  Her head cocked. “He is the EOD.” Her fingers curled around the files in her lap. Files on Lockwood and McAdams. And on the other two agents who’d been killed—Frank Malone and Jessica Flintwood. “These agents were highly trained. They could kill in an instant, yet they never had the chance to fight back against their attacker. He’s a man they trust implicitly.” She squared her shoulders. “I know you told me that my access would be limited, but I need to see the files of every agent they worked with on their missions.”

  He was already shaking his head before she finished speaking.

  Her delicate jaw hardened even as her hazel eyes narrowed on him. “Lockwood and McAdams let the killer in because they trusted him. You trust a man or a woman who has protected your back in the field. They let him in, just as Malone and Flintwood did.”

  “I can’t give you access to the files of existing agents.”

  “You are tying my hands!”

  He rose. “Then find a way to untie them. You’re here to work up the profile so that I can see which of my agents might best fit it. You can build the profile without digging into confidential records.”

  Noelle rose, too. She was a tall woman, skirting close to five foot nine, and she had on high heels that gave her an additional two inches. “If I can’t talk to the agents, what about the reporter?”

  He smiled. “Of course, but don’t let her know about us.”

  “Of course,” she muttered right back.

  Mercer headed for the door. Noelle wasn’t the only one who wanted to question that reporter. He needed to find out exactly what the rogue had said to her.

 

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