“Work.” He glanced over his shoulder. “I still have a big mess to sort out.”

She followed him to the door, panicking as it dawned on her that once he walked out, she might not see him again.

He pulled the door open and turned to face her. “Vanessa needs to come in and talk to us.”

“I told her that.”

“Tell her again. Persuade her.” His eyes were dark and serious. “If she’s in the kind of trouble I think she’s in, she needs our help. If she tries to take matters into her own hands, it’s not going to work out well.”

He turned to leave.

“Brandon.”

He stepped onto the sidewalk, putting space between them before turning around. The cool look in his eyes made her throat tighten.

“I’m sorry about yesterday,” she said.

“Yeah, me, too.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Vanessa watched the woman slide behind the wheel of her little white Honda. Kaitlin. Or was it Karlyn? Vanessa couldn’t remember. She’d only met her once at a party hosted by their downstairs neighbor. Kaitlin-or-Karlyn backed out of her space and exited the parking lot, oblivious to the dinged hatchback parked in the shadows just a few rows away.

She looked at Cooper. “Let’s hurry.”

“I don’t see why you have to be here.”

“Because. You’ve taken enough risks for me.” She pulled the hood of her borrowed sweatshirt over her hideous new hair and cinched the drawstring, just in case they encountered anyone else she knew.

They got out, and she led the way up the outdoor staircase, scanning the parking lot for familiar cars. She still hadn’t met many of her neighbors, but the police had been here, and she figured they’d interviewed enough people that if someone saw her, they might take notice.

Reaching the second floor, they walked down the open breezeway to her apartment. Cooper stopped in front of her door and handed her his key chain. He still had her key on it. He’d never taken it off after they broke up, and Vanessa didn’t want to dwell on what that said about their relationship. She felt guilty enough for everything she’d asked him to do for her over the past week.

He stepped into the apartment ahead of her. Vanessa stood by the door as Cooper closed and locked it.

“Smells like . . . spoiled milk,” she said, looking around.

“There are dishes in the sink,” Cooper said. “You told me not to touch anything when I was here.”