Rules In Rescue. Nichole Severn

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СКАЧАТЬ moved to view the screen. He flipped through the report too fast for her to see specifics, but one line stood out among the rest, highlighted on the phone’s screen.

      “Private First Class Gani Miller.” The name sounded familiar on her lips. But where had she read it before?

      “Left the army because of a dishonorable discharge, now makes his living as a gun for hire. Paid to take you out.” Anthony swiped his thumb across the screen to the next page. “I’ll have Elizabeth look into his financials to find out who hired him.”

      Glennon stayed put as he called the former NSA consultant. Mentally sifting through her investigations for the army, she studied the recliner tucked into the corner of the room, but couldn’t really focus on anything in particular. Where had she heard that name before? A shooter for hire had most likely made his way to the top of her Most Wanted list, but that wasn’t it. She reviewed the list every morning before heading onto the base, and Private Gani Miller’s name hadn’t been on there as of yesterday. “Do you have a laptop here?”

      Anthony spun toward her. “I packed one in my gear. Gray duffel bag in the hallway.”

      In less than two minutes she’d powered the laptop up and logged in with the username and password Anthony had written down for her while on the phone with Elizabeth. The screen came to life as she settled back on the bed.

      Her heart skipped a beat.

      There, in the center of the black desktop background, was a photo of...her. Smiling, arms wrapped around her brand-new fiancé. The memories of that day interrupted her concentration as she zeroed in on the yellow-gold engagement ring he’d slipped onto her finger moments before the photo had been taken. She’d set that same ring on the kitchen counter as she’d walked out the door for the last time five years ago. What had he done with it?

      “All right.” Anthony disconnected his call. “Elizabeth is pulling everything she can find on Gani Miller as we speak. Still nothing leading back to who owns that house, though.”

      Panic flooded through her. Glennon rushed to bring up the backup of her investigation files. The mattress dipped as he sat beside her. She swallowed hard then typed the shooter’s name into the search bar. No point in bringing up the past. They had more important things to worry about now. “I know I’ve heard that name before. If Private Miller has been at this for a while, he might be linked to one of my investigations.”

      The fact the sniper had been military couldn’t have been a coincidence.

      The search of her files came up blank.

      Her eyebrows drew together. She checked that she’d spelled the shooter’s name correctly and pushed Enter a second time. Nothing. There had to be some connection. “That’s weird. I know I’ve come across that name before.”

      “Are you remembering it from somewhere else?” Anthony leaned into her to get a clear shot of the screen. His powerful, muscled thigh brushed against her, and she licked her lips.

      “I don’t know where else...” A single image of handwritten notes flashed across her mind. “That’s it.” Glennon checked another file, one she’d been compiling since her partner had gone missing.

      “After Bennett disappeared, I searched his barracks and found a bunch of notes he’d scribbled on napkins he’d left in the trash bin. Most of it was nonsense, but that name—Gani Miller—was on one of the napkins with a few others.” She reentered her username and password to access the secure files. “I took pictures of them in case something led to Bennett’s whereabouts, and uploaded the photos to my online storage.”

      A new rush of hope blossomed in the center of her chest. They had a name, a lead. She could find Bennett and get back to her life. Back to her son. Double clicking the track pad, Glennon leaned away from the laptop. No. No, no, no, no. Her throat tightened. “That’s not possible.”

      “What’s not possible?” Anthony shifted the computer out of her lap and onto his own. With a few clicks of the track pad, he stroked his beard. Confusion swept across his features. “Where are the files?”

      “They were there. I backed up my files from my laptop to this drive in case something happened and I couldn’t get to my computer.” Which probably meant... Glennon stood, crossing the room to the pile of clothing she’d discarded on the floor.

      “And now they’re gone,” he said. “How?”

      “Someone accessed my backup and deleted them.” She stripped out of the borrowed sweats then pushed her legs into her jeans, all thoughts of privacy retreating to the back of her mind. Nobody knew about those files. How had evidence catalogs, Bennett’s investigation notes, witness statements and photographs of the napkins all disappeared overnight?

      “And I think I know where they’re going next.”

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