The Christmas Clue by Delores Fossen

breathing as if she were uncomfortable with the subject. “Back there, when that man was shooting at our backs, you pushed me in front of you.”
    It took Matt a moment to switch conversational gears. “So I could catch you if you fell.”
    “And so I wouldn’t be shot. Thank you for that.”
    He didn’t like where this was going. More camaraderie. They didn’t need it. “It’s what I was trained to do.”
    “The thank-you still stands. There aren’t many people who’d be willing to take a bullet for me. Even if it was your training, it felt good. For the first time in nearly a year, I don’t feel alone.”
    Matt heard her. He even heard her voice crack on the last word. He still wasn’t pleased with the conversation, sentimentality or the close contact. But he couldn’t give it any more attention than that, because something caught his eye.
    A black SUV parked at the end of his street.
    “What’s the matter?” Cass asked.
    “That SUV shouldn’t be there.” He turned around and drove toward the small park that was two blocks from his apartment. “I don’t recognize it.”
    She looked back. “Maybe one of your neighbors has a visitor or a new car?”
    “Not with our luck.”
    “You’re right,” she mumbled. “So, does this mean we’re not going into your apartment?”
    “Oh, we’re going in all right.” They could follow the park to a greenbelt that would lead them directly to the back steps of the apartment building. “We don’t have a choice. There are things we’ll need if we want to have any chance of staying alive.”
    “Just how risky is this?” she asked as he parked behind a huge cedar jungle gym.
    “As risky as it gets. You can wait here if you like.”
    She glanced around before her eyes came back to him. “Not a chance. Let’s get this show on the road.”
    Matt grabbed his gun and opened the truck door. He only hoped he wasn’t leading Cass Harrison straight to her death.

Chapter Six
     
    There was a thin greenbelt of trees and shrubs behind Matt’s apartment building, and they used the meager cover to get from his truck to the back entrance.
    What they didn’t do was actually go into the entrance.
    Instead Matt stopped about ten yards away. Still hidden in the shrubs, he waited and watched while the bitter cold ate away at them.
    Despite her freezing body, Cass understood the hesitation. He was checking for any signs that the assassins were nearby waiting to ambush them. She checked, too, and just when she was certain that hypothermia was about to set in, Matt got them moving again.
    With their guns drawn, they made their way into a open corridor and hurried up the stairs. He entered his apartment as if he expected to be ambushed by a team of assassins.
    But much to Cass’s relief, the place seemed to be empty. Matt didn’t turn on the lights, so the only illumination came from the streetlamp and Christmas lights that decorated the windows of the adjacent apartment building. Those multicolored lights threaded through the window blinds.
    He double-locked the door behind them and checked the entry closet and the bathroom—the only two places a killer could hide—since it was a one-room studio apartment. It was austere by anyone’s standards. There was a tiny kitchen on one side and a living area on the other. The only furniture was a sofa sleeper, armoire and a single bar stool crammed against the kitchen counter.
    Matt set the security system and fished through one of the drawers of the armoire. He tossed her a dark-blue shirt.
    “Thanks,” Cass mumbled, and she quickly made use of it. The apartment was a lot warmer than outside, but it still wasn’t exactly toasty.
    Matt put on a shirt, as well—a white one. He didn’t button it, though. Cass was thankful for the darkness because she knew for a fact it wasn’t a good idea to be gawking at his chest.
    Except he was gawking at hers.
    Cass frowned and glanced down. Her shirt, or rather the shirt he’d loaned her,