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He retrieved a screwdriver from the center console and looked over to Dorcas. “Are you sure you want me to do this?”

“Positive.”

“All right, I just wanted to make sure.” He climbed out of the truck and followed Dorcas up the narrow walkway, enjoying the way her gorgeous ass swayed with every step. At the door, she moved aside to allow him room to work his magic.

During his teenage years—okay, early twenties—he’d honed the fine art of lock picking. It wasn’t something he was particularly proud of, but the skill proved useful on occasion.

The absence of a dead bolt would make his job easier. Instead of a traditional pick, he opted to use a simple bump key and inserted it into the lock one notch short of full insertion. Careful not to smack his fingers, he maintained a slight rotational pressure on the key while giving the end a quick smack with the handle of the screwdriver. The impact forced the pins to rise, and the lock cylinder turned.

As he twisted the knob, the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. A jolt of unease went through him. It was totally irrational, he couldn’t explain it, and yet...something didn’t feel right. He glanced over his shoulder to see whether anyone was watching them, but nope, there wasn’t a soul in sight.

Not sure what to expect but hoping for the best, he nudged the door open and went inside.

Chapter 2

NO SIGN OF RITA, ANDthe place was a wreck, with holes in the walls and the couch overturned, its cushions slashed and the stuffing yanked out. Shattered glass. Furniture smashed. The aquarium was broken, the water soaking the living room carpet, which explained the funky odor.

But the television was still on the wall, and the electronics beneath it didn’t seem to be disturbed, which led Dorcas to believe this wasn’t the result of a burglary. Even teenagers bent on simple destruction would have taken the damn Xbox.

But what put her heart in her throat was the sight of Rita’s purse on the dining room table.

Her sisterneverleft home without it.

Eyes wide with shock, Dorcas squeezed past Nate into the foyer. Her sister was supposed to be away on business, but what if she never made it out of the house?

“Rita!” Even if she’d tried, she wouldn’t have been able to keep the rising panic from her voice. She started for the bedroom, but Nate held her back with one muscled arm.

“No, let me check things first.” He looked as though he expected her to argue and was surprised when she didn’t.

In truth, part of her wanted to argue, but the rest of her was terrified of what she might find.

Nate bent his head so their eyes were level. His deep voice gentled. “Listen, why don’t you wait in the truck while I—”

“That’s so not going to happen.” She may be too chicken to go into the bedroom, but she wasn’t about to hide in the truck while Nate did all of the heavy lifting.

His mouth tightened into a grim line. “I had a feeling you were going to say that.”