“I assume these are for your tree?” She lifted the carefully wrapped strand of lights and allowed them to dangle in the air between them. “Chili-pepper lights?”
“I’ll have you know they are quite in vogue these days.”
“On a silver foil tree?” she asked, glancing at the partially assembled tree near a large window.
“I guess you’d rather have ode to Elvis?”
Ellie shook her head. “I’m a glass-ornament, colored-lights, strings-of-popcorn kind of girl.”
“How boring.”
“It’s better than silver foil,” she taunted as she headed toward the bathroom.
Foil was obviously a passion of Josh’s. The wallpaper in the small powder room was some sort of Grecian motif, a silver background with silhouettes of naked couples in black contrast. Ellie laughed softly. When she heard the thudding sound in the other room she instantly felt guilty. Obviously Josh had heard her snickering at his wallpaper and was letting her know it by banging around in the living room.
Ellie spent a few extra minutes fixing her hair, trying to think of something kind to say. After all, who was she to criticize this man’s decor. Even if it was a bit odd.
“Thanks,” she called as she walked down the hall. She was immediately struck by how cold it was in the apartment. Almost as cold as it was outside.
She walked toward Josh, who was seated on the sofa with his back to her, obviously pouting.
“I’m sorry I snickered at your tree and at your wallpaper,” she began as she continued to approach. She spoke louder to overcome the sound of an approaching emergency vehicle. “It really is a pretty tree and the chili peppers will—”
Ellie stopped in midsentence as she rounded the couch. Josh’s eyes were open wide, bulging. His face was a grotesque contortion, pasty white with blue, swollen lips. The strand of chili-pepper lights was wound tightly around his throat.
Chapter Three
“That siren is the cops.”
Ellie let out a small, frightened noise and her eyes flew to the sound of the newly familiar male voice.
Jake Devereaux dangled in the window frame, one leg in and one leg out. “Unless you want to get caught here with the late Josh, I suggest you come with me.”
The sirens grew louder. “You killed him?” she breathed as her hand clamped over her mouth to stifle a scream.
“Of course I didn’t kill him,” Jake said calmly. “I was under the impression that you did.”
Dropping her hand, she yelled, “Me?” above the siren.
“I was just letting myself in when I heard you come down the hall.” His green eyes scanned the room. “I assume you’re the culprit. I don’t see any other suspects. Do you?”
“I didn’t kill anyone,” she told him.
“If you didn’t, and I didn’t, I suggest we get out of here before the cops arrive.” He held one gloved hand out to her.
“Leave with you?”
“That’s the idea. If you get moving now.”
“But shouldn’t we stay here and tell them—”
“What?” he interrupted impatiently. “That I was breaking in and found him dead? Or that you were the only one here when he died?”
The sirens came to a halt along with her heartbeat. “If we run, we look guilty.”
“Suit yourself.” He shrugged as he hoisted his leg up onto the windowsill. “But while you’re waiting to bare your soul, think about who might have called the cops.”
“What?”
“Someone called the cops. My guess is that whoever it was wanted them to find you alone with the stiff.”
“Oh, God,” she groaned.
“Last chance,” Jake said as he jumped onto the ground below.
Acting on fear, Ellie went to the window. His large hands circled her waist and he lifted her out and down, placing her softly on the slushy ground. She was only vaguely aware of a faint tearing sound above the loud thunder of footsteps echoing from inside the apartment building.
Soundlessly, Jake closed the window and grabbed her hand. He tugged her in the direction of the woods that lined the south edge of the building. “Where are you taking me?”
“Hush.”
Wet, heavy branches slapped at her cheeks as they trudged over the uneven terrain. The snow had turned to sleet, which pelted the leaves and stung the backs of her exposed hands.
Ellie focused on his shoulders, too stunned and too shocked to do much more than follow. The image of Josh’s face chased her through the woods. It didn’t seem real. There had been no ominous sounds, nothing to alert her that a murder was being committed while she was in the bathroom. It didn’t make any sense. Unless he was the killer.
Ellie stopped suddenly, digging the heels of her half boots into the soaked ground.
Jake turned to her, annoyance shining in his eyes, which were little more than harsh, angry slits. “Why are you stopping? We can’t let them find us out here.”
Ellie made a futile attempt to tug her hand free from his. “I don’t think running is the right thing to do,” she argued. “Especially with you.”
Jake shoved back the brim of his hat. Small pellets of ice showered down on his broad shoulders. “I’m your best hope right now. Unless you have a better plan in mind.”
“And you do?”
He let out an exasperated sigh. “We’ll go through the woods, then double back to my car. Hopefully the cops will think we’re nothing more than a couple of idiots out for a romantic stroll in the snow.”
“That’s your plan?” she scoffed, swatting a strand of limp, wet hair from her face. “We’re soaking wet. We’ll attract their attention in a heartbeat. Cops aren’t stupid, you know.”
“I’m betting they’ll be so engrossed in preserving the crime scene that they won’t even notice us.”
“They will when I get into my car.”
Jake stroked his chin. At least he seemed to be considering her argument. Ellie watched him intently, trying to discern if the man holding her hand could be the killer. Secretly, she wished all murderers had warts and fangs, then they’d be easy to spot. Looking up into his handsome face, she tried to find a clue, something tangible that would tell her whether or not to trust this guy.
All she saw were perfect, chiseled features and the promise of dimples on either side of his mouth. Great, she thought. I’m supposed to be trying to pick up some sixth sense, and all I can do is admire his dimples. Do killers have dimples? she wondered.
“You’ll have to leave your car right where it is,” he said.
“It’s a rental.”
Jake rolled his eyes. “Which they’ll be able to trace, but probably not right away.”
Ellie’s suspicions were growing in leaps and bounds. This man knew as much, if not more, about police procedure than she did. “Are you a cop?” she asked, forcing her voice to remain steady.
He offered a lazy smile. “Hardly.”
“You sound like one. Phrases like ‘preserving the crime scene’ and—”
“I watch a lot of TV,” he said with a