Page 4 of Flynn

“Don’t dwell on the what-if scenarios,” he advised. “There’s no point in looking backward. Let’s just grab what we need to get out of here.”

She gave a jerky nod and proceeded to the mudroom, which served as a first-floor laundry room as well. After donning a puffy navy-blue winter coat, she opened the garage door and flicked on the light.

He continued holding Max until she had the car seat out of the vehicle and sitting on the dryer. She rummaged in the diaper bag for a blanket, then took Max from his arms. With deft movements, Taylor buckled the sleeping baby into the car seat, then tucked the blanket around him for added warmth.

“I’ll take that.” He reached for the car seat. “My car is out front. Stay close to me, okay?”

“You don’t think the killer is still out there, do you?” Taylor’s blue eyes widened with apprehension.

“Not likely, but humor me.” Flynn still experienced a stab of guilt over the way he’d inadvertently put his teammate in danger by trusting the wrong man. That had been almost a year ago, and he’d done his best not to let that slip paralyze him moving forward. Rhy had been unwaveringly supportive about the whole debacle. Still, Flynn tended to be more cautious these days.

He didn’t want to make another mistake like that ever again.

Red and blue lights lit up the sky from the three responding squads parked in front of the house. Flynn fully expected more to arrive, along with the crime scene techs who would be tasked with collecting evidence from the house. The ME would be called in, too, even though there was no question about the cause of death. His black SUV was parked behind the squads, as he’d pulled up a minute after the officers.

And he had been extremely upset that they hadn’t breached the house prior to his arrival. He’d taken the lead, kicking the front door in to gain access, even as the other officers had yelled for him to stay back.

Now those same officers gave him room to move past them mostly out of respect for Rhy Finnegan, not him specifically. He opened the rear passenger door and grimaced at the garbage that littered the back seat.

“Do you live your car or what?” Taylor asked, eyeing the mess.

“No. Sorry.” His reputation of being a slob hadn’t bothered him until now. With quick movements, he brushed the fast-food bags and crumpled napkins to the floor. Then he set Max’s car seat down on the cushion.

“I’ll do it.” Taylor pushed him aside. “I suspect the front seat doesn’t look much better.”

Since she was right about that, he stepped back and opened the front passenger door to clean off the seat for her. He took a moment to shove as much of the garbage into one of the larger fast-food bags to minimize the mess.

Still, there was no way to get rid of it all. Other than tossing what was left onto the floor of the front seat into the back.

Yeah, he really needed to do a better job of cleaning up after himself.

When that was finished, he took a moment to put Taylor’s suitcase in the back before sliding in behind the wheel.

“Good grief,” Taylor muttered as she settled into the newly cleared away passenger seat. She glanced at him with exasperation as she clicked her seatbelt into place. “I don’t even want to imagine what your house looks like.”

He shrugged as he started the engine. “It’s not that bad.”

“Yeah, why don’t I believe that?” Her tone was lightly sarcastic, and he was glad she was thinking about something other than the brutal murders. Then as he pulled away from the curb, she asked, “How long will this take?”

“I’m not sure.” He glanced at her. “I guess that depends on what you know about what happened.”

She frowned. “I have no idea why someone broke into the house to murder the Millers. They’re decent people from what I know. I’ve only been here for two weeks, but they’ve been nice enough. Not as demanding as some new parents I’ve worked with.”

“You texted me that you were hiding in the closet,” he said. “Was that after you heard the gunfire?”

“I’m not sure. Wait, yes, I think so.” She shivered. “It all happened so fast. I heard the glass break first. Then the creak of the stairs. I left the nursery with Max to go into my room so I could grab my phone.”

“Go on,” he said when she paused.

“I hid in the closet, then thought I was being overly paranoid. I thought maybe Steve had accidentally dropped a glass of water and was returning to his room. I was about to step out of the closet when I heard the four gunshots.” She drew in a ragged breath. “I froze, and that’s when I saw him. The gunman walked right past my room.”

“Wait, you saw him?” Flynn gaped at her. “You saw his face?”

“From the side, yes. He had a big nose and a beard.” She scrubbed her hands over her face. “I shrank back into the closet and texted you. I was afraid he’d hear me or the operator if I called 911.”

He nodded absently, still reeling from the fact that she saw the perp’s face. Or rather the side of his face. Then a horrible thought struck. “Did he see you?”

“I don’t think so.” She frowned. “He looked around using a flashlight, but then left. I don’t think he’d have walked away if he’d caught a glimpse of me hiding in the closet.”

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