Evidence of Marriage by Ann Voss Peterson

she fished her keys out of her purse and handed them to Reed. She couldn’t wait to end this uncomfortable exchange. “We’ll talk later, okay, Louis?”
    â€œI’ll be here.”
    Reed pushed the storage-room door open, and they slipped inside, clearing the hall for Louis to pass with his laundry basket.
    She let out a breath of relief.
    â€œSo he still hasn’t given up, huh?”
    â€œLouis is my friend.”
    â€œHe might be your friend, but you are his obsession.”
    She didn’t want to talk about it. The air was charged enough between her and Reed without introducing pointless jealousy into the mix.
    She stepped past him and faced the rows of wood and chicken wire that formed individual storage lockers lining the walls. Snagging the keys from his hand, she strode to her locker and opened the padlock that secured the door. She’d been meaning to sort through the jumble ofboxes jamming the space, but with Sylvie’s wedding and move to Madison, Diana’s last semester of grad school and the fact that she hadn’t been ready to deal with much of anything the past few months, she hadn’t been down here since Christmas.
    A gossamer strand of spiderweb tickled her face. Wiping it clear, she moved several boxes before she came to the suitcase. And the pair of file boxes underneath.
    Her heart stuttered in her chest.
    After her experience with Professor Bertram, she hadn’t been able to look at the files she’d compiled. She’d merely shoveled the material into the file boxes and stacked them down here. The thought of sharing the same living space with them, many of which had notes written in Bertram’s hand, repulsed her.
    She jingled the key chain in her hand. Suddenly she didn’t want to see those papers again. Just the thought of them brought back memories of that cabin, the darkness, the burn of the ropes on her wrists, her eventual loss of hope, of strength.
    â€œYou want those boxes?” he asked.
    â€œI’m going to take some work with me to the hotel, too, if you don’t mind.” She could feel his skepticism without turning to look at his face.
    â€œFine with me.”
    She bent over the first box, wrestling it out of the pile.
    â€œWhat’s inside?”
    â€œPapers,” she answered, hoping he wouldn’t probe further, yet knowing he would.
    â€œPapers having something to do with Dryden Kane?”
    She let the box plunk back to the floor. She might as well tell him her intentions. “I’m going to read through my notes from previous interviews with him. Prepare for tomorrow.”
    â€œIs this the ‘other stuff’ you needed?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œWhat did you think? That if you told me what was really in the box, I’d take them?”
    She gave him a look, not bothering to state the obvious.
    He stroked his chin. “Your lack of trust in me is stunning.” Leaning down, he hoisted the box she’d just dropped and carried it out of the locker.
    She pulled the other box out and slid it across the cement floor until it rested beside her suitcase.
    The room plunged to blackness.

Chapter Five
    Adrenaline jolted Diana’s bloodstream. She strained her eyes, trying to see something. Anything but colored spots swimming in endless blackness. “What happened?”
    â€œShh.” Reed’s suit jacket rustled. A click sounded off the cement, the sound of him unsnapping his holster and pulling out his gun.
    Diana’s heart slammed high in her chest. Had someone cut the electricity on purpose? Someone like the Copycat Killer? Reed seemed to think so.
    Her legs began to shake. Silence hung in the dank air, heavy enough to choke her.
    â€œWhere are the circuit breakers?” Reed whispered.
    Diana never had a reason to know. She combed her mind, trying to picture where she might have seen something like that. “I think I remember some electrical boxes in the