Nichole Severn - Rules In Rescue

“I don’t hate you, Glennon. Trust me, I’ve tried.” The words were out of his mouth before he had a chance to think about their meaning. But it was the truth. Anthony leaned back in the office chair, his shoulder holster and Beretta within reach on the countertop. “Tell me about the work you two have been doing. Is there a chance someone—a suspect—might be looking for payback from one of your investigations?”

“Bennett and I have been partners for over three years. We’ve worked a lot of investigations together. If one of those is the starting-off point, I couldn’t tell you which one.” Glennon wiped her palms down the legs of her blood-spotted jeans. “And I’ve been through them all. Several times. Nothing has stuck out.”

“Then tell me about your current investigation,” he said.

“For the past year we’ve been looking into dozens of individual thefts of military weapons off army bases around the country. Most recently, a shipment of hardware has disappeared right here out of Anchorage. Usually, within a couple weeks, the weapons turn up on the black market or in the hands of our enemies, but not this time. Not a single weapon registered as stolen has turned up, which made us think whoever took them might be sticking around.”

Glennon swiped the tip of her tongue across her bottom lip, running one hand through her hair before sitting forward again. “So, about two months ago, Bennett had the idea of mapping the locations of each theft, and checking those locations against enlisted soldiers stationed there at the same time. Only one name kept coming up. Staff Sergeant Nicholas Mascaro. It was a huge win for the army. After Bennett and I turned in our report and handed over all the evidence we’d collected, Nicholas Mascaro was court-martialed and convicted.”

“I heard about the investigation against Mascaro.” Even after leaving the military, he still had contacts. Although, he hadn’t known she’d been involved so closely in the staff sergeant’s arrest. A swell of pride rushed through him and he straightened a bit more. She was a damn fine investigator, no doubt about it. But something didn’t sit right. Anthony thought back to his source. “But there’s no way one man could run that kind of operation on his own.”

“You’re right.” Glennon sat back in her chair. “Despite what Bennett and I wrote in our report, the army couldn’t definitively tie anyone else to the staff sergeant, let alone place him at the head of the entire operation. And he’s not giving up any names. So Mascaro made a deal and the investigation was officially closed.”

Confusion furrowed his brow. “Then why are you and your partner here?”

“A second shipment of weapons was stolen from JBER three days ago. After Nicholas Mascaro was arrested. Bennett believed someone took control of the operation while their patsy took the fall.” Glennon stood. Collecting his weapon and holster from the countertop to her right, she offered it to him, grip first. “And I think he was trying to tell me he found the proof.”

* * *

THE HOUSE HADN’T changed in the last two hours, aside from the extra bullet holes peppering the walls. Fresh blood spatters added to the stains on the west side of the living room. Her blood. The hole in her shoulder ached as if to remind her of the last time she’d stood in this spot. Her attention slid to Anthony as he riffled through a stack of old newspapers, the muscles along his back hardening with every move. If he hadn’t been there...

Memories of her four-year-old flashed across her mind like lightning. His blond hair, his perfect smile, the way he’d held on to her so tight before she’d left.

Hunter was fine. He was safe. She’d made sure of it. And if anything did happen to her, he’d be cared for. Arranging his future in case something happened to her had been the only way she could track down Bennett without the army at her disposal.

Glennon ignored the tightness in her throat as she wiped at her face with the back of her hand. He was fine.

Focus. There had to be some kind of evidence pointing to the reason Bennett had come here. She kicked at a loose floorboard, but the space underneath had either never been used or been emptied out. They’d been here an hour and come up with nothing. No bullet casings. No new skid marks on the road aside from theirs. Nothing from the neighbors. Whoever had taken those shots had been either a professional or a soldier.

Glennon laughed to herself. She was getting ahead of herself. They had nothing tying Bennett’s disappearance to her current investigation or the military. For all she knew, he’d needed a couple days away from the pressure of the marshal breathing down their necks for results. Her gut instincts said they were connected, but the courts didn’t prosecute based off something that couldn’t be proved.

“Anything on your side?” she asked.

“Not yet.” Straightening, Anthony stretched to his full, muscular height. The beginnings of sunrise glinted off a thin sheen of sweat across his forehead as he ran a hand down his face. He’d come prepared. Well, more prepared than usual. The Beretta in his shoulder holster had a couple new friends hidden in his cargo pants, his Kevlar vest, even the holster strapped around his thigh. He wasn’t about to be taken by surprise again. “You?”

She studied him from the safe distance she’d decided to put between them back in the medical suite. At least three feet of space separating them at all times. That’d be the only way she could think straight during their time together. Although, now that she watched him, her body urged her to close that space. Five tours in extreme conditions ranging from jungle to desert hadn’t taken away from his overall attractiveness. Hardened him, yes, but not in a bad way. And damn if that didn’t resurrect some of those feelings she’d buried. But she hadn’t come back here to make the same mistakes. She hadn’t even planned on seeing him at all during her assignment on JBER.

“Glennon?” The weight of those dark blue eyes pinned her to the spot.

“No. Nothing.” Glennon sank against one wall, exhaustion pulling at her. She wiped a bead of sweat off her neck. What were they supposed to do now? She had zero jurisdiction off base as long as Bennett’s disappearance was considered a simple missing persons case. And she couldn’t bring in the local police. Not yet. Not until she could guarantee her name would be left out of the reports. “Has your computer expert come back with a history on this place yet? Who owns it?”

“Last time I checked in, Elizabeth was working her way through an entire network of shell corporations without any end in sight,” he said.

Defeat spread fast. Her partner had been here. How could he disappear without anything to show for it? This couldn’t be it. She’d been trained for this. She couldn’t have failed him already. Stalking across the empty living room, she picked up an old two-by-four covered in spider webs. “There has to be something here.”

She shoved every ounce of energy into her swing. The board vibrated in her hands with each strike, pain exploding through her shoulder. She didn’t care. Pins and needles crawled up her arms as mildewed drywall peeled away from the wall, but she wouldn’t stop. Not until she found a clue.

“Glennon.” The concern in Anthony’s tone tunneled deep into her bones, but she only pushed herself harder.

She wasn’t leaving this house until she had proof Bennett had been here. It was the only lead she had. He was the only person who could help her bring down the rest of Staff Sergeant Mascaro’s team. Another streak of sweat slipped from her hairline and down her neck. Why was it so damn hot in here? Shouldn’t the gas company have turned off the furnace when the house was abandoned?