Frank nodded. “We’ve looked around carefully. Nothing’s missing.”

“That’s really strange, Mr. O’Reilly.” The officer pointed at the old TV and then at the china cabinet, which displayed some of Megan’s grandmother’s china along with silverware they never used. “You’ve got stuff out, plain as day, that a robber would take in a heartbeat.”

Frank’s watch beeped, and Megan came up behind him and raked her fingers down the back of his neck. “Honey,” she said, “when are you going to turn off that alarm? Now that the docs have cleared you, you don’t need to take the medicine anymore.”

Frank groaned. “Kathy programmed this darn thing for me. It’s probably easier to just use my old Timex than figure out how to undo this blasted reminder.”

Megan looked into the kitchen and the smile on her face melted away. She tapped on Frank’s back and said, “Um, honey, where did that box from the VA go off to? It’s not in its usual spot.”

Frank turned toward the kitchen and stared at the now-empty counter where the black box from the VA had been. “Son of a gun.” He turned to the officer. “Turns out we do have something missing.”

###

It had been a long day and Frank was exhausted. He’d set up the new TV, taken the old one to the dump, then patched up the front door jamb. By the time he managed to pile into bed, Megan was already asleep.

As he stared up at the ceiling, he thought about the burglary. Why would someone break in just to take that medical device? Was it valuable? And what would he do if the VA called and said they needed it back?

Except, none of those VA folks were ever going to call. Frank knew that. It was as though everyone involved in the trial had just vanished, and the rest of the VA knew nothing about it. Up till now, Frank hadn’t worried too much about it—he’d gotten better and wasn’t about to complain—even though the whole thing was certainly suspicious.

What could be so important about that box that someone would break into a man’s house and steal it?

Frank recalled how the doctor and the clinical trial he’d gone to had vanished from the VA. The whole thing struck him as suspicious.

Could someone be trying to hide something?

Suddenly, Frank was struck with a horrible thought.

He turned on the light, opened the top drawer of his nightstand, pulled out the business card he’d stashed there, and dialed the number.

A weary voice answered. “Carrington.” The agent sounded as if he’d been awakened from a dead sleep.