Nobody's Lost (Rescue Me Saga #5)(7)

The man—whose name escaped her already—had hair cut short, but not a high and tight. A bit of gray made her fight the urge to reach out and touch his temples and glide her finger down his sideburns.

Whoa, Megan!

What was the matter with her? She hadn’t thought about touching a guy since college when she’d decided she simply preferred to focus on building her career rather than involve herself in relationships that could only end badly.

He probably had earned every one of those gray strands through multiple deployments. Patrick came home with a few himself, and he was still in his twenties.

Megan held her hand out to him. “I’m sorry, let’s start over. I’m Megan Gallagher, and I’m terrible with names.”

He accepted her hand. Firm grip, but he didn’t try to go he-man like and crush her hand. “Ryder Wilson. I served with your brother in Fallujah. Well, in Kosovo and Kandahar, too, before that.”

What Megan had learned about some of the horrors Adam’s units had suffered made her want to wrap him in her arms and offer comfort along with her appreciation. “Thank you for serving. I know that’s lame, and you probably grow tired of hearing it from those of us who didn’t have the guts to do what you did. I can’t imagine the sacrifices you and those who served this country have made. And your families, too.” Most people forgot about the families left behind during long and continuous deployments.

He shrugged. “Just doing my job.” His gaze darted behind her and down the hallway. “Top—Adam—said you’d had some trouble. What happened?”

She recognized the familiar Marine nickname for master sergeant that Ryder used. Rather than go into the story yet again, she decided to show him the evidence—well, the lack thereof, actually. “Follow me.” She turned away and led him down the hall to the doorway of her makeshift studio and pointed inside. “The scene of the crime. My laptop used to sit on that desk.”

“That’s all they took?”

“Well, this is my brother’s place, so I can’t be sure. The safe wasn’t tampered with, and the TV and other electronics are still in the media room.” She sighed. “My computer’s probably already been resold and the hard drive reformatted by now.”

“Doesn’t make sense.”

He doesn’t believe me.

Why did that bother her? She had to admit, she was as perplexed as he was. The police officer even suggested perhaps she had left it somewhere else.

“The police couldn’t find any broken windows or jimmied doors. All were closed and locked. Whoever came in bypassed or usurped the security code at one of the outside entrances, which are a lot more complicated than the one in the kitchen. I already checked to make sure I still have the remote in my purse.”

“Was it a sophisticated system?”

“By my standards, it was at least complicated.”

“Have you called your brother—Patrick, I mean?”

She shook her head. “He’s out of the country. Won’t be home until Sunday at the earliest.”

“Show me the alarm system.”

She led him farther down the hall to Patrick’s bedroom. “Here’s the main panel.”

“Damn. What’s he worried about having stolen?”

Megan shrugged. “Told you it’s complicated. I guess he wants to protect his media equipment.”

“But you said nothing was taken except for your computer.”

“True. It’s a mystery to me.”

Ryder walked down the hallway toward the front entrance she’d never even used. “I’m going to take a look around outside. Stay here.”

He moved like a jungle cat. She wondered what it would be like to photograph him. Not good at taking orders or being idle, she followed him. She wanted answers, too.

He glared at her before pulling out a penlight from his pocket and surveying the area inside and out. “No visible signs anyone tampered with them. Whoever broke in possessed some sophisticated communications knowledge.”

“That’s pretty much what the police said.”

He gave her a pointed look. “Do not follow me. I mean it this time.” The man didn’t like being disobeyed. “Open the garage door when you hear me knock four times.” He waited for her to go back inside. When she didn’t, he prompted, “Why don’t we close this one before we let in any more dirtbags?”

“I didn’t let in the first ones. They broke in.” He nodded, but she doubted he believed her. At least he’d given her something to do.

“I’ll meet you at the garage door, Ryder.”

She closed and dead-bolted the door before returning to the kitchen and opening the interior door so she’d hear him. A few minutes later, she heard four knocks and gave him access into the garage. He rolled his Harley inside before she closed the door for what she hoped would be the last time tonight. She’d show him she hadn’t left it open earlier without thinking.

Megan waved him into the kitchen. “Listen, it’s been a crazy few hours around here. I need a drink. Can I get anything for you?”

“Coffee. Black. Thanks, ma’am.”

No way was she going for coffee herself. As she prepared a pot for him, she no longer felt the need to move to a hotel tonight. With both of them armed—he with a deadly looking knife and she her Smith & Wesson .40 caliber pistol—they should be able to fight off anyone who tried to break in again.