“It kept me up most of the night, but my instincts are telling me he’s not finished yet.”

“You think he’s going after more people?”

“Yeah, I do. A lot more. Maybe we should take a closer look at Nichole Dalton’s past. Montez might be interested in someone she knows or has worked with. She’s got two daughters, but is she married? Divorced? Does she have a boyfriend? Who fathered her children?”

Holly fell silent for a moment. “It’s likely the San Diego PD has already made those types of inquiries. I wouldn’t be surprised if Henning has a copy of the police report. I’ll find out.”

He closed his eyes and rested his head.

“When we get to your house, you’re getting some sleep.”

***

Nathan crashed most of the day. He didn’t like losing the hours, but it couldn’t be helped. He still abided by his personal Marine Corps adage: Sleep when you can.

Now it was Holly’s turn. Curled into his shoulder, the darkness hid her face. She looked so unguarded and yet strong. Somehow this woman had slipped through his defenses. She felt like the missing piece of a puzzle. They’d talked for hours, sharing each other’s lives. Nathan had talked about his loneliness and quick temper. The nightmares. The anger and dark thoughts. The other. His need for privacy.

Holly had reciprocated and told him about her troubled childhood and high school years, her bout with drugs, and her tequila-shooting, can’t-remember-how-she-got-home days. She admitted to looking for love, but never finding it. It seemed they shared a few things in common.

They’d spent the day at his La Jolla home. She really loved its architecture and the collection of Civil War relics and weapons. She’d been especially taken by his dogs and vice versa. After dinner, they came over here, to his Clairemont home. She wanted to see where he spent the majority of his time. She liked this house too, said the modest scale and furnishings somehow fit him better, made him more—

The red LED on the security panel next to the front door began flashing.

Someone just tripped the motion detector in the rear yard.

The low whistle of the alarm coming from every room in his house confirmed it.

“Holly.” he whispered, giving her a firm shake.

She opened her eyes.

“We’ve got company. Someone’s in the rear yard.” Nathan put a forefinger over his lips.

She needed no other prodding. Within seconds, they were both in the bedroom, where he punched a sequence of numbers into a small gun safe on his nightstand. Holly put a hand on his back as the metal hatch silently popped open, revealing his Sig 9-millimeter. He retrieved the weapon, suppressor, and two subsonic round magazines before grabbing his night vision scope from the nightstand drawer.

“Where’s your service weapon?” he whispered, screwing the suppressor into place.