The Girl Next Door. Cynthia Eden

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СКАЧАТЬ promised. “In the meantime, you keep tracking this rogue. He knows our agents, he knows us, but I’ll be damned if he’s going to get away with these attacks on my watch.”

      Mercer hung up. Cooper pushed the phone into his back pocket. Gabrielle had slipped into the alley, and she’d never glanced back to see if anyone was watching her.

      She should learn to pay attention to what—who—was behind her.

      He’d sure gotten the drop on her easily enough in that apartment. If he had been the killer, she would have died.

      His back teeth ground together as he stalked toward the alley. He’d had no idea that his neighbor was so drawn to danger.

      Just like me. But he knew why he liked the thrill that came from danger. That burst of adrenaline made him feel alive.

      What drew Gabrielle into the darkness?

      * * *

      THE FIRE ESCAPE led all the way up the side of the building. Gabrielle studied that fire escape, considering the options. It would sure be easy enough for the killer to slide through a window in the victim’s apartment then flee down the fire escape.

      Was that why the front door was locked? Did you get out this way?

      She slipped deeper into the alley. The voices were muted here. Her shoe brushed over a discarded aluminum can. The acrid odor of rotten garbage was strong in that alley.

      Gabrielle glanced to the left. A green garbage container sat to the side. The alley snaked away a bit then opened to another street.

      Since there were no lights in that area, it would have been easy enough for the killer to hide down there.

      “You’re in the wrong place.”

      The whisper drifted to her. When the words sank in, Gabrielle froze.

      “You shouldn’t be here, all alone...”

      She whirled around. That voice was coming from the shadows near the garbage container. “Who’s there? Show yourself!”

      Laughter. Low and chilling. “Not yet...not yet...”

      Goose bumps rose on her arms.

      “Gabrielle!”

      That was Cooper. A shout had never sounded more wonderful.

      Before she could call out to him, something—someone—grabbed her and shoved her into the brick wall of the alley. Her head hit the bricks, hard, and her body slumped.

      “Not yet...” That whisper told her once more.

      Then she didn’t hear anything else.

      * * *

      SHE HADN’T ANSWERED HIM.

      Cooper rushed forward, running fast. She’d just been out of his sight for a few minutes. The cops were close by. Gabrielle couldn’t just vanish.

      A crumpled form lay curled near a garbage container.

      Gabrielle.

      He didn’t realize that he’d bellowed her name. But in the next instant, he was on his knees beside her, frantically searching for a pulse at the base of her throat.

      The pulse beat slow, steady, beneath his fingers.

      He brushed back her hair. Her head slumped weakly against his hold.

      What in the hell had happened?

      His gaze flew around the alley. It was too dark to see much.

      And he didn’t hear anyone.

      “Gabrielle?” His fingers shifted through her hair. When he found the bump on the side of her head, he swore.

      Then he stood, holding her carefully in his arms. She needed help.

      “Freeze!” a male’s voice shouted.

      He wasn’t in the mood to freeze. He was in the mood to get Gabrielle help.

      Light from a flashlight hit him in the face. That light was so blinding that it made viewing the person connected to that voice hard. The man was little more than a shadow.

      “Gabrielle?” The guy’s voice roughened. “What the hell did you do to her?”

      “Nothing,” Cooper growled. “When I found her, she was unconscious. I’m trying to help her.” And you’re slowing me down.

      The light came closer.

      “I’m not armed,” Cooper told him. That wasn’t true, but the man wouldn’t notice the weapons he carried. They were too well concealed. “We need to get her help.”

      He could see the man’s face now. It was the detective from the other night, Lane Carmichael.

      “I remember you,” Carmichael said, obviously placing him. “You were at the other crime scene, too.”

      Great. Not the connection Cooper wanted the detective to make. If he wasn’t careful, the cops would start looking at him for the kills.

      He wasn’t sure his P.I. cover could stand up to their perusal.

      Carmichael yanked out his radio and called for backup—and an EMT.

      A moan slipped from Gabrielle’s lips. Under the flashlight, her lashes began to flutter. She blinked a few times then seemed to focus on him. “C-Cooper?”

      “It’s all right,” he tried to reassure her. “I’ve got you.”

      A faint smile curved her lips. “S-saving me...again? You’re making a h-habit of it...”

      Yes, he was.

      The EMT ran toward him. The man reached for Gabrielle.

      For an instant, Cooper had the crazy urge to keep holding her. I don’t want to let her go.

      But he never got too close to anyone or anything. That was the way he wanted his life to be. The way it had always been.

      He let her go.

      As she was taken away from him, Cooper’s shoulders tensed. He was going to find out exactly what had happened to Gabrielle in that alley.

      Once more, his gaze swept the area, but he didn’t see anything out of the ordinary.

      With this killer, I wouldn’t.

      The ambulance’s siren blared, and Cooper found himself hurrying toward that sound.

      * * *

      HE HADN’T BEEN able to resist. The woman had been right there. All alone.

      She was the one who kept digging into his life.

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