Thicker Than Water by MAGGIE SHAYNE Page B

through the trash. “You’re the one breaking and entering,” he reminded her.
    â€œThe door was open.”
    Arguing in whispers was an interesting concept, he thought. Each of them tried to whisper more forcefully than the other.
    â€œIt was, ” she said, apparently mistaking his silence for doubt.
    â€œI know, I know, I saw.” He took her arm. “Let’s get out of here before both our asses wind up behind bars.”
    She tugged her arm free. “You go on. I have to look around some more.” Her eyes were on the scattered files, scanning them as if trying to read the labels.
    â€œJones, someone broke in here tonight.”
    â€œObviously.”
    â€œWell, has it occurred to you that it might have been the killer?”
    â€œGee, no, I hadn’t thought of that,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
    â€œHe might still be around here somewhere, Jones. Did you think of that? ”
    That brought her head up. Her eyes leveled on his, widening a little. Her body went so still that he didn’t think she was breathing for a second. The idea of someone else in the apartment frightened her. Good. She should be frightened. But after a second, she seemed to decide her reasons for being there outweighed her fear.
    â€œMaybe you should go check out the rest of the place,” she suggested. “Make sure no one else is around.” Then she turned away from him, dropping to her knees to scan the file folders littering the floor.
    â€œRight, and leave you here alone to abscond with whatever evidence you find.” He knelt right beside her, checking the videocassettes. Some were commercially made, with printed labels, films that sounded like porn, with titles like Mistress Mary’s Discipline and Dungeon Lover. Others had white labels on them with handwritten titles. Sean pulled out his penlight for a better look, because the handwritten ones were harder to read in the dark. He flicked the light on and read them aloud in a whisper. “ Vanessa. Marianne. Barb & Sally. ” He looked at Jones. She was still pawing frantically through the files that carpeted the floor. “Just what is it you’re looking for?”
    â€œI’m not looking for anything. I’m just looking.” She took his light from his hand, shining it on papers with an air of impatience, then stopping the beam on something that lay on the floor, something that reflected the light with its glossy surface. Photographs, Sean thought, but as soon as he thought it, she dropped an empty folder on top of them.
    â€œWhat was that? Was that something?”
    â€œNo. Nothing.” She shone the light elsewhere; then, getting to her feet, she scanned the few files still in the open drawers.
    â€œWhat is it you expect to find in the files, Jones?” He got up, too, brushing off his pantlegs, waiting for a chance to see what it was she had covered up.
    â€œHow would I know?”
    â€œThen why do I get the feeling you’re looking for one that says Julie Jones on it?” Then he lifted his brows. “Or should I be looking for a tape with that label instead?”
    She turned toward him, probably about to tear him a new one, he thought, but then she went still at the sound of a bell—just one single ping. “What’s that?”
    â€œThe elevator.” He grabbed the light from her, shut it off and ran back through the apartment to the still-open door. He peered out into the hall. She came up behind him a couple of seconds later. “Is it…?”
    Lieutenant Jax was striding down the hall toward them, flanked by the same two cops from the hotel room. Sean ducked back inside. “Police,” he whispered. “Come on.”
    The two of them ran through the apartment, ducked back into the study and closed the door behind them. Sean went to the window and parted the curtains, looking for a balcony. What he found was even better. Thank God this