The Girl Next Door. Cynthia Eden

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.

      So he’d thought it would only be fair that he started to play with her life.

      The fact that she was connected to Cooper Marshall was just bonus. The connection made things even more interesting.

      I can use her.

      But not yet. She didn’t matter enough. Not yet.

      He whistled as he walked down the street. Plenty of tourists were still out. Even this late, the streets were full of people.

      It was easy to blend with those people. To walk right past the overworked cops.

      Cooper had climbed into the ambulance. He was playing hero. That wasn’t a role well suited to the man.

      He and Cooper were a lot alike. That was why Mercer had Cooper hunting him.

      Darkness clung to them both. They were loners. Killers.

      In the end, though, only one of them would survive this game.

      It wouldn’t be Cooper.

      Pity. He’d once called the man friend.

      Now, he just thought of Cooper Marshall as a target.

      Chapter Three

      Gabrielle took a deep breath. She squared her shoulders, smoothed her skirt. Then she lifted her hand and knocked soundly on Cooper’s door.

      She had a proposition for him, one that she very much hoped he’d accept. She wanted—

      The door swung open. Only Cooper wasn’t the person standing on the other side of that door.

      A very pretty woman with glass-sharp cheekbones and shoulder-length black hair stared back at Gabrielle.

      A date. He’s on a date. The kiss—the one she ridiculously thought about far too much—had been fake. As good-looking as Cooper was, of course, the guy had a pretty girlfriend.

      “Can I help you with something?” The woman asked. Her voice was smooth. Friendly. Her smile was a little uncertain.

      “I was looking for Cooper.”

      “He’s in the shower—”

      The floor could