LITMIR.BIZ

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yet another tour. The conversations had played through his head on a near constant loop since the day he’d come home to the empty house they’d shared. But none of his fantasies had included a bullet in her shoulder or Glennon centered in a sniper’s crosshairs. He swallowed back violent ideas of revenge sprinting through his head. He had to focus on something else. Anything else but her. “How old is your son?”

      The idea she’d been with other men since leaving—had had a child with one of them—tightened the muscles down his spine. It shouldn’t have. They hadn’t been together in five years. So why did the thought of her moving on make him tighten his grip around the needle?

      Her rough exhale cooled the overheated skin down his forearm. “I think it’d be better for both of us if we stick to talking about Bennett’s disappearance, don’t you?”

      “All right.” Anthony tied off the suture and used the scissors from the first-aid kit to clip it short. He taped a piece of gauze over her wound to keep the stitches dry then disinfected and packed up the medical supplies. The patch job disappeared as she maneuvered her clothing back into place.

      Focus on her missing partner? No problem. Compartmentalization had become one of his best skills. He exhaled to rid his system of her intoxicating scent, the one that kept pulling him in closer. “Our forensics guy, Vincent, pulled the bullet from the windshield of the SUV, but we won’t know where it came from for a few more hours. You can grab a change of clothes from Elizabeth and crash in one of the empty offices until then.”

      “No.” Glennon shook her head as she hiked her jacket over her shoulder, wincing. “I’ll take the change of clothes, but I’m going back to that house as soon as possible.”

      He faced her. Go back? Was she insane? Before he knew it, he was in front of her, forcing her to look up at him. An icy feeling crashed through him. He’d almost lost her back at that house. Now she wanted to put her life in danger a second time in less than two hours? His six-foot-four-inch frame towered over her but Glennon held her ground. “Because one bullet wound wasn’t enough? Are you going for a shot in the head this time?”

      “I came here to find my partner and that’s exactly what I’m going to do,” she said. “Sergeant Spencer’s GPS put him in that house for over twenty-four hours. And since I didn’t have a chance to search the place properly before someone tried to shoot me, I’m going back. You can either come with me to make sure it doesn’t happen again or give me a set of car keys. Your choice.”

      “You could’ve died back there, Glennon.” Right in front of him, no less. And that wasn’t an option. He’d seen enough death in combat to last him two lifetimes. He wasn’t going for three. Her natural warmth worked through his T-shirt, raising his awareness of how close he’d gotten to her. Or maybe it was the flat-out fear of her taking another bullet that put him on edge. “You’re not stepping out of this building without protection.”

      “Good. Then we have a deal. Now let’s get to work.” She stepped away from him, slowly this time, but the pressure in his lungs refused to let up. That seemed to happen a lot since she’d come back into his life a few hours ago.

      Despite the size of the medical suite, Glennon took her original seat beside him. She extracted her phone from her jacket pocket and handed it to him. “Bennett sent me a message right before he disappeared.”

      “‘I found proof.’” Anthony noted the edge of the photo behind the message, a boy with buzzed blond hair and the hint of a wide smile, but nothing more. Had to be her son. Maybe four years old. “What did he mean by that?”

      “I don’t know. He won’t answer my calls and hasn’t been seen since for me to ask him.” She took the phone and shut off the screen. “I called in a favor from a friend stationed on base and downloaded the GPS data from Bennett’s phone. His last reported location was that house.”

      “Family? Friends? Girlfriend? Kids?” Despite his gut instincts, her partner’s disappearance might not have anything to with the assignment that’d brought them to Anchorage at all. Could’ve been a breakdown, a piece of Sergeant Spencer’s past his partner or the army knew nothing about. Elliot Dunham’s earlier observation soured on his tongue. This whole disappearing act might’ve been set up by Bennett himself, a way to get him out of trouble. Wouldn’t be the first time he’d seen enlisted soldiers leave their post.

      “No. He didn’t have anyone as far as I know, but he hasn’t been acting like himself since we got here. Closed off. Showing up late to work if he shows up at all.” Glennon shook her head as she leaned back in the chair. “Unfortunately, our assignments don’t really let us keep in contact with many people outside of work.”

      That meant Sergeant Spencer had no one to come looking for him. Except Glennon.

      “I’m out of leads.” Disappointment clouded her normally bright gaze. “I’m worried he’s gotten in over his head with something.”

      “You want to go back to that house to find the shooter who put a bullet in you.” Not a question. He could read her intentions in the way she rubbed at the hole in her shoulder. The plan made sense. Despite the fact that the idea of her stepping foot in that house hiked his pulse higher, it was their best lead to finding her partner.

      Then again, Anthony wanted—no, needed—to hunt down the bastard who’d ambushed them, too. One way or another, he’d even the score.

      “I don’t think someone taking shots at me tonight was a coincidence, and I don’t think you do, either.” She had that right, but chances of the shooter staying behind after they’d high-tailed it out of there were slim.

      “I know things—” she laced her fingers together and set her elbows against her knees “—didn’t end well... But I’m hoping we can move past this awkwardness—or whatever it is—between us. I can only imagine how much you hate me for leaving, but I appreciate your help.” A half-smile pulled at one corner of her mouth. “Truce?”

      “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

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