Chapter 4

Ryan didn't find the envelope until 2300 hours. He had come home expecting the usual — porch light on, dinner in the fridge, Nora reading on the couch with the dog at her feet. Instead, the house was dark. Silent. The dog was at the neighbor's. "Nora?" His voice echoed off the walls he had chosen, the furniture he had placed, the life he had constructed like a forward operating base. No answer. He cleared every room the way he'd been trained — fast, systematic, weapon-hand ready out...