She leaned close so she could whisper. “What’re you doing? Don’t we need to hurry?”
“Checking for a sensor that would’ve set off an alarm when the window opened.” He drew his hands away from the window and reached for his duffel bag. “We’re good.”
“Let’s find the storeroom.” She wanted this done as quickly as possible. It wasn’t that she was afraid ... okay, she was afraid. Hazing-week pranks were the closest she’d ever come to breaking the law.
The window had taken them into the property assessment office. The door leading into the basement corridor was locked but allowed for opening from the inside. Once they were in the main corridor and the door closed behind them, they would be locked out of the room.
Before permitting it to completely close and latch, she asked, “Will we be able to get back in here?” She had to assume those sensor things he worried about were on all the doors leading outside the building. Going back out the window seemed logical.
The illumination from the flashlight provided enough of a glow without her having to aim it at his face for her to see him grin, one of those handsome, lopsided dazzlers she remembered from before ... way before. Her heart reacted.
“You let me worry about that.”
She moved away from the door, and the latch clicked into the locked position. He took the flashlight and started moving from door to door, reading the signs posted on each. When they’d reached the end of the main corridor, he took the shorter one to the right, the only other way to go. This section would lead to the bottom of the stairs that ascended to the ground-level floor. She stayed right behind him, but she couldn’t resist constantly glancing over her shoulder. If the police found her car, would they figure out what she and Clint were up to?
“. . . has to be it.”
She dragged her full attention back to Clint. The sign on the door readAuthorized Personnel Only. She agreed. If the files were here, this was the most likely place.
“What now?”
He gave the flashlight back to her. “Hold it right there.” He directed the beam on the doorknob.
She held the light steady while he retrieved a new set of tools from the duffel’s exterior zipper compartment. These looked like the pointy instruments a dentist might use when cleaning and prodding at teeth. Clint crouched in front of the door. Using both hands, an instrument in each, he worked on the lock until something clicked.
He twisted the knob and the door opened.Incredible.
“You’re pretty good, Austin.”
He dropped the tools back in the bag and straightened next to her. “I hope you’re referring to our other joint venture in addition to this one.”
Heat flushed her face. She started to tell him she’d have to think about that one when a sound echoed from somewhere in the main corridor. The succession of clicks and creaks that followed wasunmistakable. Someone had unlocked the main exterior door on this level and opened it. A sequence of beeps warned that the security system had been disarmed.
Had to be the police.
This was bad.
She clicked off the light and grabbed the duffel he’d left on the floor next to the door. They stood so close together she could feel the tension roiling through his body. She grabbed his shirtfront with her free hand and pulled his face close to hers, then whispered, “Get in there and make sure the door locks behind you. Once we’re gone, you get the files and get out of here. Try chronological order first, then alphabetical.”
“No way I’m letting you take the rap for this.”
“Do it,” she urged. “How can we find the real killer if you’re in jail?”
Three breath-stealing beats passed before he relented. He slipped inside the room he’d just unlocked. The barely audible rasp of leather soles on the tile floor was closer now. What should she do?
Then she knew. She dropped to her knees in front of the door behind which Clint had disappeared, turned on the flashlight, and retrieved the tools he’d been using to unlock it. She pretended to be hard at work even as the steps moved into the side corridor directly behind her.
Not looking back was one of the hardest things she’d ever done. A bright beam of light suddenly illuminated her position.
“Emily?”
Ray Hale.
She experienced some amount of relief that it wasn’t a cop she didn’t know. She jerked around, adopted a startled expression.
“What the hell are you doing, Emily?”
He moved nearer.
