"Spoilsport," Woody muttered.
"You wouldn't do that anyway," I said. "You love me too much. Go on, admit it."
Woody gave me the side eye. He didn't admit it, but he didn't deny it either.
Yeah, that was what I thought.
We reached the top of the stairs without seeing anyone or any sign anyone had been here recently. No convenient trail of crumbs, blood or dismembered body parts pointing the way. What? It's a thing, but that's a story for later.
Forrest pushed out the door that led to the roof.
"You might get your chance to throw someone yet," I said, looking around into the shadows. "If someone's up here, you could throw them off."
"Did you hear him volunteer to be thrown off?" Woody asked, directing the question to Forrest.
Forrest responded by giving us both a quick glance, then turned away. "There's no one up here."
"Only one way down too," I said, peering over the side to the street below. "Unless they can fly. Or jump across to the next building."
I looked from the building on one side to the building on the other, but decided both rooftops were too far for anyone to safely make it across. That didn't mean they didn't try, but I couldn't hear any sounds of distress from below. No one suggesting an ambulance be called because somebody fell.
Considering there were a couple of doors between us and the rooftop, if they were there when we arrived, chances were they slipped out one of those. Woody was right, they were long gone by now.
"The police will examine the knife. With any luck they'll find fingerprints," Forrest said, gazing out across the same rooftops, evidently coming to the same conclusions I had.
"Is there any chance this was random?" I asked, the question redundant. Why would anyone try to lure Sable here and kill someone else, if there wasn't meaning behind it?
"My guess is there's zero percent chance it's random," Woody said. "I told you not to get involved with her."
"I believe you said that because you thought she was trying to take our money," I pointed out.
"Doesn't mean I'm not right." He crossed his arms, his chin in a stubborn jut. "The woman is trouble."
"You still think that?" I asked. "You didn't seem convinced of that after she was on her knees for you."
"I told you that was a mistake," he snapped.
He looked like he was going to say something else, but he turned and stalked away towards the door leading back into the building. He wrapped his hand around the knob and tried to wrench it open.
"Fuck." He shook the knob, making the door rattle. "Fucking thing is locked."
I snorted a laugh. "I guess one of us should have held it open."
"Trust you to find this funny," Woody said. He kicked at the door, cursed again and hopped a couple of times. "Fucking fuck!"
"Don't get yourself arrested for destruction of property," Forrest said.
Why was he always so cool and calm? We were locked out of the building. We could be stuck up here for who knows how long.
"What about the destruction of my foot?" Woody growled.
"I don't think it's broken." Forrest pulled out his phone and was about to press on the screen when it started to ring.
"Unknown number," he said, his brow creasing.
I thought everyone knew better than to answer an unknown number, but he pressed on the phone to receive the call and put it to his ear.
"Hello?" he said simply.