Nobody's Lost (Rescue Me Saga #5) (4 page)

M
egan stared back a moment longer than prudent before pushing in the code. The man had a lethal air about him as though a deadly current vibrated beneath his skin.
Of course, he’s a Marine.
But what struck her was the vacancy in his eyes that hadn’t been noticeable in Patrick’s or Adam’s.

Lost.

“What happened to bring the cops in?”

“A break-in.”

“You sure you didn’t just leave the garage door open by mistake?”

“No. I definitely closed it.” No doubt about it.

“If you didn’t lock the interior door to the house either, they could have just walked in without having to disarm the system at all.”

“I
said
I closed the garage door.” Megan folded her arms in front of her. “The reason you found it open was that I was about to leave to check into a hotel when Adam called. I was distracted.”

She couldn’t get a read on whether he believed her yet. Maybe she could send him on his way soon.

Be nice, Megan. The man’s come here to check on you in the middle of the night, for Pete’s sake.

“Please, come in.” Standing aside, she waved him inside.

He wore a weathered leather jacket as black as his hair. His jeans looked as if they’d been through a shredder at the knees. Had he rolled his bike at some point? He didn’t seem the type to buy fashionably stressed jeans.

She’d done a double take at the gleaming Harley he’d left parked in her driveway. Man, what would it be like to take a ride on that machine? Much sexier looking than Patrick’s BMW. Nothing beat the rumble of a Harley Davidson. Of course, no way would Megan ask this stranger for a ride.

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.

“I’ll stand watch while you get some sleep tonight, ma’am.”

She sighed. “Ryder, first off, my name is Megan. Second, no one is after
me
. It was a random break-in. Theft of one computer. End of story. I’ve only been here a few weeks. They probably thought they were getting some of Patrick’s expensive equipment or some government secrets or something.”

“He works for the government.”

“Private contractor, actually. I don’t know much other than that.”

“Explains the top-notch civilian security system. I still don’t think some kid looking for drug money did this. Why they didn’t clean out this place is confusing as hell.”

“I guess you’re right.” Her hand trembled as she reached for a brandy snifter and a bottle of Courvoisier. She poured until the snifter was more than half filled.

“We’ll know more after a few days.”

What? A few
days? The man already had a disturbing effect on her. One minute, he ticked her off because he didn’t believe her. The next he had her face flushing and nipples peaking because he exuded some kind of sexual pheromone or something.

Did humans have pheromones?

She tossed her head back and drained the snifter in two swallows.

“Whoa! Go easy with that!”

She set the empty glass on the counter and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the burning down her throat and watering in her eyes. The potent drink’s warmth spread through her belly. How did her brother drink this stuff? She preferred margaritas, but he didn’t have a machine for them. She coughed to clear her throat before turning around to face him.

“It’s been a hell of a night. That’s going to help me sleep.”

Rather than lie awake fantasizing about a man sexier than sin keeping watch over me.

*     *     *

Damn, he didn’t mean to scare her. But she wasn’t taking this as seriously as she should be.

“Do you think your brother can come home early?”

“No. He was flying to Pakistan on a humanitarian-aid mission with a new friend of his. Then they have to fly back to Italy to pick up the couple who flew over with them. Do you know Marc D’Alessio?”

“Doc?”

She nodded.

“He was my Navy corpsman in Fallujah.”
I nearly got him killed.

“Patrick is co-piloting for the guy flying Marc and Angelina to Italy.” She furrowed her brows and cocked her head. “When’s the last time you saw Adam?”

“He retired following my last tour. I left the unit not long after.”

“You must be one of the few Marines he served with who didn’t show up for his wedding last December.”

Ryder shuffled his feet. He hadn’t heard about the wedding, but that had been a rough month for him. He wouldn’t have been in any shape to show up in polite society for something as special as Top’s wedding.

“Sorry I missed it.”
Not really
. He was glad no one had found him to send an invite. He’d worked hard to stay under the scope since his discharge. But Megan didn’t need to know that.

Guarding her was not going to be an easy assignment, either. He hadn’t spent much time alone with a woman since Sherry left him. He’d topped a few women at a private dungeon in Santa Fe one night, but only because Carlos dragged him up there.

Last thing he wanted or needed was another woman in his life. How many nights had he slept on the couch before his ex walked out, afraid he would hurt her during a night terror? His inability to be a husband anymore probably was the main reason she’d called it quits. That and she didn’t want to live holed up in a fucking cave in the desert, which was how she’d referred to the place he’d chosen to hide away from life.

His refuge.

Jesus, let me just finish this mission so I can head back there.

The demons lurked on the edges of his consciousness. He couldn’t keep them at bay forever. Last thing he needed was for Megan to report back to Top that he was in desperate need of a shrink.

She placed a mug of steaming coffee on the counter between them, and he removed his leather jacket. She stared at the Marine emblem ink on his forearm. He’d been drunk and on shore leave in Istanbul when that became his first and last tat back in 1998.

He noticed a trembling in her hand. “You don’t have to worry about anyone hurting you. I won’t let anyone near you.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about.”

He waited, but she didn’t elaborate. He needed more answers from her. “Is there someone who might have wanted to hurt you by disrupting your life? A thwarted lover maybe?”

“Sorry to be so boring, but I have no enemies or jilted lovers. I can’t imagine anyone having it in for me or wanting revenge, and Lord knows no one would be jealous of me.” She met his gaze. “Even if there had been some former lover, what would he want with my computer? I’m a photographer, but I don’t take
those
kinds of photos.”

He wondered what she did photograph, but clearly the woman had no clue how beautiful she was if she thought no one would be jealous.

“You don’t believe me.”

He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me.” She glanced at her empty glass before meeting his gaze again “I hate to disappoint a conspiracy theorist, but I’ve been solely focused on earning my master’s in fine arts and making plans to start my career. No time to date anyone on a serious level. I haven’t been in love since my high-school sweetheart, and we broke up in college.”

“I can remember what it’s like to be that age. Intense…emotions.”

“Well, those
emotions
ended long ago. Besides, my big brother scared him so badly on prom night that he couldn’t do anything—intense or otherwise—if he wanted to.”

“I imagine Adam would make guys toe the line around you.” One thing was certain, Ryder wouldn’t cross that line. Was he afraid of Adam? Maybe. But what he feared most was dishonoring himself in front of his master sergeant.

“Not Adam. I’ve only known him for about six months. He’s actually my half-brother. He disappeared from my mother’s life until last Thanksgiving. No, I’m talking about my other brother, Patrick. He was a pilot in the Marine Air-Ground Task Force and is working on his commercial pilot’s license now.”