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“I know that.” I nodded, eyes bright with emotion. “Don’t you think I’ve gone back and forth, even questioning my own sanity? But I wouldn’t have come here if I didn’t think I was on to something.”

“You broke into his home to find the evidence. Even if you find it, the way you did it will damage the police investigation.”

I knew that. I wasn’t stupid. I’d watched a ton of true crime documentaries. However, I’d decided it was worth the risk because if I was wrong, I couldn’t live with pointing the finger at an innocent man. Maybe it wasn’t the right move, but I didn’t think it was possible for me to make a truly rational decision at this point.

“We’re here now.” Forde shrugged grimly. “Let’s look the place over.”

Twenty minutes later we met back in the open-plan living space. “Anything?”

Forde shook his head, his jaw clenched. He gritted out, “It’s a tiny flat. There aren’t many places to look and I found nothing.”

“Before it was in his bedroom wardrobe, but he must have moved it.” Forde scrubbed a hand over his face, and I narrowed my eyes. “You don’t believe me?”

Irritation darkened his gaze. “Of course I do. It was also over two years ago and the killings hadn’t made it into the media yet. Now they have. He’s not going to keep anything like that in plain sigh—” Forde abruptly cut off. “That was a van door slamming.” He marched across the room to the window that looked down over the street. “Fuck.” He backed away, whirling on me. “Greig’s home.”

My heart rate exploded into a flurry of beats, and I tried to think through my panic. “He can’t see us here. If we leave, we’ll meet him in the hall.”

“We’ll just tell him we were in Aberdeen and decided to stop by to say hi.”

“No. If anything makes him suspicious and there is evidence in here, he’ll get rid of it.”

“Fuck.” Forde shot me an outraged glare as he strode past me and across the hall into the bedroom.

“What are you doing?” I hurried after him.

He reached for the pole that leaned against the corner of the bedroom wall. “He has an attic pull-down door.” I looked up at the ceiling as Forde used the hook on the pole to catch the trapdoor above our heads. As he pulled it, attached stairs unfolded. He placed the pole back exactly where it had been and gestured. “Up.”

Fear pumped through my body, making my legs shaky as I hurried up into the pitch-black.

“Is it floored?” Forde asked behind me.

“Just near the door.” I stifled a whimper as I climbed in on my hands and knees, my limbs bumping off mystery items Greig had stored up here. I shifted over on my stomach to make room for Forde and he quickly lay down next to me before reaching over to pull the ladder up and the door shut.

There was nothing but utter blackness and our too-loud breathing.

I was sure Forde must be able to hear my pounding heart as I struggled to listen over the rushing blood to the sounds below in the flat. At a touch on my back, I jerked with fright until I realized it was Forde’s arm. I leaned into him, and he squeezed me closer and reassured on a whisper, “It’s okay. It’s okay.”

We heard the slamming of a door and froze.

The sound of Greig’s footsteps below us on the hardwood floors was terrifying. I thought my pulse might be so loud he could hear it from all the way down there. Fear slickened under my arms and palms as my imagination raced away from me, thinking of what Greig might be capable of. I’d slept with him. He’d had his hands on my body. On my hair. On my thighs. At any point, he might have snapped while with me. I could have been a victim. Why wasn’t I? If my suspicions were correct, why was I alive?

If he found me and Forde, and he was guilty, he’d kill us. Without any qualms. I stifled a whimper because I couldn’t believe I’d dragged Forde into this. If anything happened to him because of me …

I only realized I was shaking when Forde’s arm tightened around me and he pressed his forehead to my cheek. The spicy scent of his aftershave cut through the mustiness of the attic. He was here and strong and safe. He was also breathing in and out slowly with intention and I realized he was trying to get me to mimic his breathing so I would calm down. I concentrated on the sounds of his breaths and attempted to do that.

Still, it was the longest minutes of my life.

We heard the rush of water through pipes, suggesting Greig was showering. I started to panic that he was going to stay in the flat for the rest of the day.

Eventually, however, just as my muscles were straining from being stuck in the same position for so long, we heard his footsteps fade toward the flat door and then the sound of it slamming shut. I let out a long breath and turned my head toward Forde. Our faces were so close, our noses touched.

“Do you think …,” I whispered.

“Aye.”

I leaned against him as I dug into my back pocket for my phone. “Let me get the torch.” A few seconds later, my phone lit up Forde’s face. I swung it toward the trap door, looking for the pull.

“Uh … Cameron …” Forde’s voice was thick with a tone I’d never heard him use before.