Shane grabbed her arm and pulled her back. “Hold up.”
“Do you see something?” If so, that made one of them.
“Nothing.”
“Okay, you lost me.” Not for the first time and she doubted it would be the last, but it would be nice to have some idea what drove him.
“No movement at all.” Shane glanced up and down the street. “You said he works from home and rarely leaves, yet there’s no car in the driveway or out front. No shadows or signs of life in the house.”
“He didn’t answer my calls, either.” Dread fell over her. Either Shane’s question-everything personality had rubbed off on her or something was wrong. She hoped for the former. “We should go in.”
“Me.” He pointed at her. “You wait here and be ready to call nine-one-one.”
She let Shane take two steps before delivering the news. “Tyler will never let you in. He doesn’t trust anyone.”
“Sounds like a nice guy.” Shane took out his gun. “I’ll depend on this to convince him.”
“You think he doesn’t have his own weapon?” With any other guy that might work, but Tyler would shoot first and not care enough to ask any questions later.
He suffered from a serious case of paranoia. He assumed most people lied. After serving in the navy and returning from Iraq with an injury, he believed in service and country and not much more. Getting him to trust her had taken a long time and many hours of drinking coffee at the shop near where she worked.
Shane swore under his breath. “Fine, but you follow my lead. We’re also going to have a talk about your friends at some point.”
Because that wasn’t annoying or anything. “You want to be in charge of picking those, too?”
He actually smiled. “I probably shouldn’t answer that.”
She decided he was joking, or pretended he was, and started across the street at his side. They approached the house from the left with Shane constantly scanning the area. He didn’t talk, but his intensity vibrated around them. By the time they got to the front porch, he had her nervous and doubting and worried. Something about having him on guard all the time sucked all the calm out of her.
She stepped up to the front door and dialed Tyler’s number one more time, thinking to give him warning that she was about to ring the doorbell. She glanced over at Shane, expecting to see him inspecting the doorjamb for booby traps or something, but he wasn’t standing there. Her hand dropped and she turned around. It didn’t take long to pick him out. He paced the front lawn and stopped in front of one of the windows.
“We have a problem.” He delivered the comment the way other people would read a grocery list, in an even tone. No panic.
That was fine, since she sensed she was about to panic enough for both of them. “Another one?”
“Is Tyler messy?”
The question didn’t make any sense. “I don’t understand—”
“Yeah, we have company.” Shane raced past her, taking the porch steps two at a time and rammed his shoulder into the door. The wood cracked and the hinges creaked. On the second hit, the door flew open.
He stormed in and she followed. As soon as she stepped into the family room, her body froze. Ripped sofa cushions, smashed lamps. Someone had torn this place apart.
A bang sounded in the back of the house. She could see through to the kitchen and the open back door. Before she could yell to Shane, he was off. Her heartbeat sped up and fear clogged every pore. Oddly, she’d grown accustomed to the sensation—the rough breathing and anxiety slamming through her—and that scared her. She’d spent her entire life avoiding violence, and now it kept landing right in front of her.
She made it to the back door and stopped with her hands balanced against either side of the doorjamb. The backyard was empty except for the garage, and that looked to be locked. She needed some sign of Shane. To see his hair or those shoulders, anything to confirm he was fine.
But nothing bounced back to her but the usual sounds of a neighborhood. Cars in the distance and music playing in the house a few doors down. At least no gunfire. She winced and waited for it, but it never came.
“He’s gone.”
At the sound of Shane’s voice behind her, she spun around. He stood in the open front door with his gun down by his side. Not winded, but the severe frown suggested he wasn’t happy he’d lost the guy he was chasing.
“Did you see him?” she asked as soon as her ability to speak returned.
“Dark clothes. Male build.” Shane closed the door and came the whole way inside. “Nothing else.”
She glanced around at the open kitchen cabinets and shredded books and papers all over the floor. It looked as if a hurricane had moved through, but they had a bigger problem than bad housekeeping. “Where’s Tyler?”