Abigail
Annette's laughter rang through the warm air and it was the first thing I heard when I pushed out of the building's front entrance, my heart lodged in my throat.
She was leaning against the car with her arms folded and her head tilted, doing the laugh she used when she was trying to butter up a man.
The man she was directing it at had his back to me, dressed in the same black jacket and pants that I had seen him in at the morgue. He had a canvas bag over one arm.
Gavin.
My shoes skidded against the floor in their tracks. Annette's eyes found mine over his shoulder for a second and she tilted her head further while she laughed harder at the murderer grinning down at her.
She must have seen him approach and began flirting with him to stall for time.
Best fucking friend ever. I raced to the back of the building and pressed back against the wall of the building, pressing my body flatly, my pulse hammering so loud I could barely think.
