Page 5 of Cassidy

She parked in the driveway and slid out from behind the wheel. Gabe headed to the garage and entered a code on the keypad. Which was probably a good thing since he’d been robbed and didn’t have his keys.

When the garage door opened, though, she saw his red SUV parked inside. What in the world? Gabe had clearly left the car behind on purpose.

He looked just as surprised to see the SUV. He glanced at her. “This is my car?”

“Yes.” Alarm bells rang in the back of her mind, and she reached for her gun. “Stay back. I’m going in first.”

He scowled, looking as if he wanted to argue, but stepped to the side to give her room to squeeze past the car. The door leading from the garage to the house didn’t look tampered with, but she didn’t lower her weapon. Twisting the handle, she pushed the door open but hung back to wait and listen.

Hearing nothing, she stepped across the threshold, sweeping her gun over the area as she went. It was dark inside, but lights from the neighbors’ Christmas decorations along with the streetlight outside, provided enough illumination for her to see.

The interior of the house stopped her cold. The place had been trashed. Her gaze went from the shattered oversized TV screen to the sofa cushions that had been cut open and strewn around the room to the kitchen drawers that had been opened and dumped onto the floor.

This was no robbery. Whoever had done this had been searching for something. She only wished she knew exactly what they’d wanted.

ChapterTwo

He shouldn’t have come here.

Over Cassidy’s shoulder, Gabe could see the destroyed interior of his home. Then he realized something was missing.

“My computer.” He brushed past Cass to stride into the kitchen. Or what was left of his kitchen. “My laptop computer is gone.”

“Good to know but stay back,” she warned, grabbing his arm in a firm grip. “I need to make sure the assailant isn’t hiding somewhere.”

That possibility hadn’t occurred to him. “Okay, I’ll wait.”

“Don’t touch anything.” Cassidy moved through the open-concept kitchen and living room to head down the hall toward the bedrooms. He felt useless standing there, but since he didn’t have a gun, there wasn’t anything he could do to help.

Did he own a gun? He frowned. Somehow, he couldn’t imagine using a weapon, pointing and aiming at a person. Yet even as that image wouldn’t mesh in his mind, he found himself wishing he was armed.

If someone tried to harm Cassidy, he wouldn’t hesitate to use any weapon at hand.

“Bedrooms are clear,” she announced. “If you had a computer on your desk in the office, that is missing as well.”

The news was like a fist punch to the gut. He wasn’t sure why, but knowing his computers had been taken brought a wave of depression. As if he’d lost his right hand.

“Hang tight,” Cassidy said. “I’ll check the basement.”

He turned to look at the door leading to the basement. Interesting that he knew exactly where it was. And that his laptop was missing. His desktop device, too, apparently. Slowly but surely, memories were coming back in bits and pieces.

Maybe all he needed was a good night’s sleep. Surely by morning he’d remember everything that had transpired out at the side of the road. And the source of the danger he was convinced lurked nearby.

Maybe.

He moved to the kitchen sink, grabbed a towel, and ran it under cold water. The ache in his head would not go away, so he used the wet towel to wipe away the blood.

“You weren’t supposed to touch anything,” Cass chided when she returned.

“I highly doubt the crime scene techs will find any prints.” He glanced around while holding the cold towel to the back of his head, trying to make sense of this. But more memories didn’t come. “I should grab a few clothes and some money so we can get out of here. I wouldn’t bother changing except mine have blood stains on them.”

Cassidy sighed, then nodded in agreement. “Okay, but don’t take too long. We’ll call dispatch to report the damage once we’re back on the road.”

He tossed the blood-stained towel aside and headed toward the bedrooms, turning into the one he used without conscious thought. It was only when he had grabbed a small suitcase from the closet and began stuffing clothing in that he realized he knew exactly where he stored things.

Progress in his memory returning? He could only hope.

He also found a small wad of cash in his top dresser drawer. Not a very original hiding place, but when he looked inside, the money was still there. It was only about a thousand dollars, but better than nothing.

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