“Becca, can you think of any reason why someone broke into your house? And your brother’s? What they might’ve been looking for?”
She paused with her hand on the zipper. Those questions had been driving her crazy since she’d first seen the disaster at Charlie’s place. She thought back to their fight last week, to his insistence that their dad wasn’t who she thought he was—and that he could prove it. How could that be relevant, though? “A few days ago I’d have guessed that the break-in at Charlie’s had to do with his computer security consulting work. That someone was trying to steal secrets or something. But now? With the note, and tonight? I have no freaking clue.” And her confusion about why this was all happening was giving her a grade-A headache. Becca shouldered her bag, grabbed her favorite pillow, and stepped out into the hall again.
Nick’s gaze was narrow and sharp as a blade. “Does Charlie go missing a lot? Has anything like this happened before?”
“No. He’s a bit of a homebody. Always was, even as a kid. Our mom died when we were young, and Charlie withdrew into himself and his computers. But he never just disappears like this.”
“Does he have any friends? Anywhere he might go?”
Becca shook her head. “That I know of, most of his friends have always been online. He does corporate security consulting, and even most of his business meetings are calls or Skypes he does from home. I’m not even sure which companies he works for. Apparently he has to sign nondisclosure agreements as part of his contract work, so he can’t say.”
Something dark flashed over Nick’s expression, and his jaw ticked. “We’ll figure it out,” he said, reaching for her bag. His fingers touched hers on the strap, warm and strong.
The we in his words shouldn’t have been as comforting as it was. “Oh, you don’t have to—”
“I got it.” He slipped the bag from her shoulder to his.
“Uh, okay. Look, I have to say this. I appreciate your help very much. But please don’t confuse my needing help with being helpless.” She squeezed the pillow against her stomach.
He gave her an appraising look and nodded. “Fair enough.” His gaze dropped to her flower-covered pillow.
“What? It’s essential. I hate hotel pillows.” She hugged it tighter.
“Well, you’re in luck then.” Nick gestured her toward the steps.
“Why’s that?” she asked, starting down.
“No hotels.”
“What? Where else would I go?” She paused at the bottom and watched him make his way down. Big as he was, he not only came quietly but also didn’t hit a single one of the squeaks, like he knew where they were and how to avoid them. “How’d you do that?”
“What?”
“The stairs.” God, it was like being around her father. Her heart gave a little tug. Not that the comparison was all bad. “Never mind. Back to this hotel situation.”
He shook his head. “No hotels. My place is safer.”
His place? Her stomach flip-flopped. “Uh . . .” was the sum total of her intelligent response. Where would she sleep at his place? And would she be able to sleep at all knowing he was so close? “I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you.”
“You won’t,” he said, going from window to window and pulling all the curtains closed. “We’ll leave the lights on. Hopefully that’ll discourage anyone from another attempt tonight until we can get more serious hardware on these doors.”
A shiver raced over her skin. There was that we again. “Do you think they’ll be back?”
He paused at the last window and looked her way, his expression unreadable.
“Truth,” she said.
He closed the curtain and returned to her, his eyes softer than she’d yet seen them, but no less serious. “I think they’ll be back. But next time, we’ll be ready for them.”
Chapter 5
“Wait. You live here?” Becca asked, recognizing the brick warehouse-style building she’d visited the day before despite the dark. The whole neighborhood was a collection of empty-looking brick warehouses located just a few blocks from the business end of the harbor.
“Yep,” he said.
She stared at him, waiting for more. But Nick remained quiet as he turned into a gravel lot at the side of the building, big hands gripping the wheel, console lights casting shadows over his strong profile.
Nick cut the engine and glanced her way. “Home, sweet home.”
She peered out the window at the dark brick building. “You mean tattoo parlor, sweet tattoo parlor.”