Escape (Last Chance Series, Book 3.5) by Dee Davis

forward again as they stepped out into the hallway on the lower floor.  “Which way?”
    For a moment she thought about trying to stall him further.  Pretending she didn’t know where the body was.  But that was simply postponing the inevitable. Better to try to use something in the lab to turn the tables.  And better to do it now before Marshall’s friend came back.
    “He’s in here,” she said, pointing to the door just across the corridor from the stairs.  
    Gripping her elbow, Marshall propelled her into the room, his gun still biting into her side. 
    “Where?” he asked as he flipped on the lights.  She blinked in the sudden brightness, waiting for a moment as her eyes adjusted to the bright light.
    “Third drawer from the left.” 
    He pushed her forward.  “Open it.” 
    She reached for the bay, her fingers closing around the steel handle.  The heavy drawer was built on gliders, meaning that it took very little effort to open it.  And with a little force, it just might be able to do some damage.  The key was to get Marshall into the right position. 
    “So is this him?” she asked, keeping her voice as low key as possible, as she began to ease the drawer out. 
    As intended, Marshall moved closer to the end of the drawer, his attention on the body inside.  And with a surge of adrenaline, Tracy yanked the drawer out.  But Marshall was faster, wheeling out of the way, his hand closing on her shoulder, jerking her against his body, the gun jammed into her side.
    “Next time you try something like that,” he warned, his breath hot against her neck, “I’ll blow your fucking head off.  Do I make myself clear?”
    Tracy nodded, her heart beating a staccato rhythm against her ribs.  She had no doubt that Marshall was telling the truth.  If not now, then most definitely later.  There was no way he was going to just let her walk out of here.  So the best she could do was continue to play for time and pray for a miracle.
     
    *****
     
    The corridor lights flickered as Seth stepped off the elevator.  He’d already been to Tracy’s office.  But it had been empty. No sign at all that she’d been there.  Of course that wasn’t really surprising.  If Tracy had it her way she’d handle every case Braxton took on herself.  Delegating wasn’t her strong suit. 
    Frankly, he wasn’t even sure why she had an office.  Except maybe to soothe the minds of potential clients.  People wanting answers about deceased loved ones weren’t inclined to interviews in a morgue.  Much better to have plusher surroundings.  For all her practical know-how, Tracy was also really good at dealing with distraught people.  She truly cared.  It was one of the things Seth loved about her. 
    He opened the door of the first lab, his gaze moving across the pristine space.  Everything in its proper place.  And no sign of Tracy.  Maybe this was a wild goose chase.  Maybe she’d gone to Madison’s.  He wouldn’t put it past her.  Tracy might not be willing to commit to him, but she certainly had done so with her friends.  And in turn they were loyal to her as well.
    In fact, he’d always felt like a bit of a third wheel—even though he considered both Madison and Harrison friends.  Push come to shove, they’d side with Tracy.  Even if she was dead wrong.  Which begged again the question of what the hell he was doing here.   She’d made it clear where she stood.  And now that his head was clearing he realized he was probably setting himself up for another fall.
    But then he always had been a glutton for punishment.  Hell, Tracy was worth it.
    The next lab, like the first was also empty.  With a sigh he turned, to go, but stopped, his gaze landing on the desk in the corner.  He recognized the pile of files.  He crossed the room in two strides, flipping open the top.  It was the co-ed who’d been murdered outside the bar.  He remembered Tracy talking about the case.  The file had been on