No One to Trust (Hidden Identity Book #1): A Novel (4 page)

FRIDAY

2:15 P.M.

Mike sat in his hotel room/office and stared at the map on the wall. He contemplated whether or not to report in to his boss about David’s vanishing act. He looked at his watch. Not yet. Bernard Holcombe, a tall, well-built man who demanded perfection from his marshals, would not be pleased with this new development.

Mike didn’t have a mark on his record after seventeen years of service, and he wasn’t about to start now.

He jerked as his cell phone rang, grabbing his attention. The unfamiliar number on the display made him frown. He slipped from the room and pressed the phone to his ear. “Mike Thomas.”

“Why does my husband have your number hidden in a box?”

Mike froze, then demanded, “Who is this?”

“Summer Abernathy.” A pause. “Wait a minute. Mike Thomas? Kyle’s friend? The man who just left my house a few hours ago?”

Uh-oh. “Where did you say you got this number?”

“I found it while searching my house.”

Mike closed his eyes. There was no way his number should have been written down anywhere. What was Kyle thinking? “We need to talk.”

“I think you’re right.”

“I’m on my way back.”

“Fine, I’ll see you—no! Wait! You can’t come here.”

“Why not?” Mike heard the thread of fear in her voice. “Is someone there with you?”

“No, but . . . are you a cop?”

“I’m a US Marshal.”

Her breath whooshed through the line. “Oh no. Okay, that’s not good.”

“Why?”

“I can’t talk to the cops.”

The near hysteria in her voice set off alarm bells for him. “Who’s threatening you, Summer?” She went quiet. “Summer? Mrs. Abernathy?”

“I’ve got to go.” She clicked off the phone.

He called her back even as he headed out the door. She knew something. The phone rang three times before she finally picked back up. “Don’t call me anymore.”

“Please! Don’t hang up.” He climbed into his vehicle and cranked it, ready to break all the rules in order to find Kyle. “Look, your husband is in the WITSEC program. I’m his handler and he’s in serious danger—as are you probably. Now, I need you to talk to me.”

He could almost see her indecision as the only sound that came over the line was her hitching breaths. “WITSEC? Witness Protection? Are you kidding me?” Her breaths came through staccato and uneven. “I don’t know what to do, I just don’t know,” she whispered. “They’re coming back.”

“Who? Who’s coming back?” He drove through the streets with his lights flashing but kept his siren off. He would cut the lights before he got to her place since she was worried about the cops for some reason.

“Oh please. I don’t want—”

“Mrs. Abernathy! Summer! Talk to me!”

She hung up.

Mike barely restrained himself from throwing his phone across the car. He didn’t have time for a temper tantrum. He had to make another call. Swerving around the oblivious driver in front of him, he merged back into the right-hand lane and kept going. Then he punched in his boss’s speed dial number. Fury ripped at him. He did not want to make this call.

But he had no choice. He needed help.

Bennie answered on the fourth ring. “What do you need, Mike?”

“I need help and I need it now.”

“Tell me.”

As fast as he could, Mike filled Bennie in. “And you’re just now telling me this?”

Mike winced at the man’s bellow. “You can lambaste me later. I need two deputy marshals on standby probably in Charlotte, North Carolina. That’s the last place he was seen. When he turns up again, I want immediate coverage on him.”

“I’ll have them ready.”

“And I’ll fill out the report. At some point.”

“Just get to his wife and make sure she’s safe.”

Mike hung up and pressed the gas, praying he wasn’t going to have to call Bennie back with more bad news.

Shaking, heart hammering, Summer set the phone aside and stared at the contents of the box she had spread over her kitchen table. She glanced at the clock. 3:10.

Worry for Kyle . . . David . . . her husband . . . nagged at her. She felt frozen inside as her mind flitted, wondering what she should do. Fear, anger, and a churning desire for answers swirled inside her.

She didn’t know a lot right now, but one thing she was sure of. Evidence pointed to the fact that Kyle had lied to her. Lied in a really big, life-changing, soul-shattering way. She scooped everything back into the box and hurried back to the garage to return it to its original place.

Once finished, she bolted into the kitchen, grabbed her purse and car keys.

Then paused. Running? Was that her only option?

“Well, you sure can’t stay here.” Summer peered out the living room window, her gaze sweeping the street.

A silver-and black Mustang sat against the curb two doors down and across the street. She’d never seen that car before.

They were definitely watching.

“Or it’s someone visiting a friend,” she muttered. Right.

Either way, her nerves danced. She could leave and see if anyone followed. No, not if. They would follow. One thing for sure, she
wasn’t going to be here tonight without that laptop. But leave now? Or when the sun went down around 5:30?

Before she could make up her mind, the car from this morning’s visit pulled in front of her house. Summer drew in a deep horrified breath. Mike Thomas. A US Marshal.

A cop.

“No, no, no,” she breathed. How was she going to get rid of him?

Summer opened the door and pointed to his car. “You have to leave, now.”

He blinked, then placed a hand on her shoulder and shoved her back into the house hard enough to make her fight to keep her balance.

She whirled on him, fear darting through her. “What do you think you’re doing?”

The door shut behind him. “I need to find Kyle and I need your help.”

“I don’t know where he is.” She had an idea, but that didn’t mean she had to share with this man who’d already lied to her once today. “Where’s your ID?”

He showed her. “Where did you find my number?”

“That doesn’t matter right now.” She wasn’t ready to share what she’d found yet. Not until she’d talked to Kyle. She paced from one end of the foyer to the other. “They gave me until 8:36 tonight to find this laptop and flash drive. Well, I don’t know where the stupid things are.” She pointed at the door he’d just forced himself through. “You need to leave. Now.” Frantic, she paced from the foyer into the den.

He caught up with her. “What laptop? What flash drive?”

She stopped and crossed her arms. “A laptop and flash drive these guys obviously want and think my husband stole.” She waved a hand at the mess that was now her house. “I’ve turned this place upside down and I can’t find either of them. If he’s hidden them, he didn’t hide them here.”

“How do you know they want these things?”

“Because they broke into my house and threatened me if I didn’t get them and hand them over. And they said no cops, so . . .” Summer dropped onto the couch. She buried her face against her knees and struggled for control.

“Start at the beginning, will you?”

She gave him the short version, then jumped up. “We need to get out of here. They said they’d be back.” She glanced at the clock. 3:20. “Actually, I’m pretty sure they’re sitting out there. They know you’re here.”

“So, we’ll have the cops here waiting for them when they show up tonight.” He pulled out his phone.

Summer paced. “I know that seems like the reasonable thing to do, but if you have the cops here, then they’ll know it. They won’t show up and I’ll look like an idiot. Then if something else happens and I call—” She gulped. “No, I have to figure this out.”

“Do you know where Kyle is?”

Did she trust this man? No, but what choice did she have? She couldn’t take on those men by herself. She had to let Mike help her. The thought turned her stomach.

He shut his phone. “You said they’re watching, that they probably know I’m here.”

“They know. They knew you were here earlier and called to ask who you were.”

His brow furrowed. “Okay, then we need a plan.”

“I can’t even think straight.”

Mike got on his phone, and while Summer listened in on the one-sided conversation, she couldn’t follow the exchange. Something about three or four vehicles and wild-goose chases.

He hung up and looked at her. “They’re going to know I’m a cop. If these guys are as powerful as you say they are, they’ve already traced my car tag and know who I am. You’re going to have to come with me. It’s the only way to keep you safe.”

“The way you kept Kyle safe?” She flung the words at him.

He winced. “Kyle must have done something stupid that led these guys to him. He’s been fine for almost a year.”

“When’s the trial?” she asked.

“What?”

“The trial. That’s what you’re waiting on, isn’t it?”

He studied her, then nodded. “Three weeks.”

“Three weeks away and they find him now?” She gave a humorless laugh. “I’m not so sure Kyle’s trusting the right people.”

His eyes snapped at her and his lips tightened. After a few seconds, he blew a breath out. “You may not be far off the mark.” He moved closer. “Now, do you know where he is?”

She met his gaze. “Yes.”

“Then they do too.”

6:30 P.M.

Summer wanted to scream at Mike to hurry up, but he was already going eighty-five, so she figured she’d stay quiet and just pray. They were almost to the turnoff anyway. Mike was talking to someone named Bennie. “Who’s on him?” A pause. A sigh of relief. “Chase and Adam . . . yeah . . . yeah, I got it. I promise.” They went back and forth for the next few turns, then Mike said, “I’m pulling in now.”

She barely waited for the car to stop before she threw the door open and bolted to the hospital information desk. Clutching her purse to her chest, she leaned against the counter, “I’m looking for Kyle Aber—” No, he wouldn’t be registered under that name. “—the man who was brought in and had no ID. I believe he’s my husband.” Or should she just go ahead and ask for David Hackett? Anger simmered. She ignored it. She would be mad later. After she found out if he would live or die.

Armed with the room number and her self-appointed bodyguard, she found the elevator and jammed the button.

“Are you all right?” Mike asked.

She lasered him with a look. “Just peachy. Wouldn’t you be if you’d just found out the last year of your life had been a lie?”

At least he had the grace to flush. “Look, Kyle has worked hard to stay alive this past year. He hasn’t done anything except what he promised to do.”

“He promised to never lie to me. Where does that fit in with him keeping promises?”

“He didn’t have a choice, Summer. Can you look at things from his point of view and maybe cut him a little slack?”

Okay, so she would be mad now. So angry she couldn’t breathe, she held up her hand. “I’m not talking about this with you anymore.”

The elevator opened and she stepped off. Room numbers posted on the wall gave her the direction to Kyle’s room. As she approached, she swallowed hard and rubbed her sweaty palms down her jeans. She wanted to turn and run, pretend this wasn’t happening, that her husband wasn’t a liar.

But he was. And she’d never run from anything in her life. She sure wasn’t about to start now.

She turned the corner and came to a halt. Two men stood outside Kyle’s room. Fear flashed for a brief moment until she realized Mike was approaching them with an outstretched hand. Fellow marshals, she figured.

Of course. As soon as he knew where Kyle was, he would have called for help.

Her phone rang and she snatched it from her purse. Marlee. She was going to have to find some time to call her sister back or Marlee would be filing a missing person report.

Summer forced herself to be polite to the two other marshals. This wasn’t their fault and she wouldn’t take her anger out on them. “Hello.”

“Mrs. Abernathy.” Tall, good-looking with green eyes and military-cut brown hair, the one nearest her held out a hand. “I’m Adam Buchanan, US Deputy Marshal.”

She shook his hand. “Nice to meet you, Marshal Buchanan.”
So
nice I could puke.
She clamped her lips together, refusing to let the words out.

“Call me Adam.” He gestured to the man next to him. “This is Chase Tollison.”

They exchanged greetings. She got to the point. “Is that man in there my husband?”

“Yes ma’am,” Adam said.

She took a deep breath. “All right then.”

She placed a hand on the door, ready to give it a good push when Adam touched her shoulder. “While it’s nothing life-threatening, he’s pretty beat up. Prepare yourself.”

“Thanks.” Mike started to follow her and she glared at him. “I’d like to see him alone first, if you don’t mind.”

He started to protest. Adam hushed him and opened the door for her. She let it shut in Mike’s face.

Finally, she was in the room. At least it wasn’t ICU. Her lips tightened. But he might need ICU after she got through with him.

Once again, she forced herself to push the anger aside for the moment. Without taking her eyes from the man in the bed, she shed her heavy down coat and let it fall into the vacant chair next to the window. Her heart constricted, her breath whooshed from her lungs. Adam was right. Kyle looked pretty beat up. The left side of his face sported several shades of purple, blue, and yellow. The IV dripped steadily into his left arm and his ribs were taped. Bruised, not broken. Hurt and sore, but nothing he wouldn’t heal from.

Summer stepped closer and clasped his hand to curl her fingers around his.

His eyes fluttered. Opened. “Summer,” he croaked. “You’re safe?”

“I’m safe. For right now. Not so sure about you.”

His blue eyes held hers and she let her anger show. He sighed. “So you know.”

“I found out when a man named Corbin Hayes showed up in our
bedroom this morning and threatened to cut off my finger unless I gave him a laptop and flash drive you stole.”

Bright fear flashed across his face. Strange, she didn’t think the fear was for himself. Was it for her? He struggled to sit up, wincing with the effort, right hand pressed to his midsection. She moved back and let him. Refused to help him.

But was proud of herself for not slugging him.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed and pulled out the IV. He held tissue over the area until it stopped bleeding.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“We’ve got to get out of here. Gotta keep you safe.” He grunted and stood, a little wobbly, but on his feet.

Summer was stunned. How could he possibly be standing when he looked like death had come knocking and he’d barely held the door shut?

“There are three US Marshals outside your door,” she said. “I think you’re pretty safe.”

“Not worried about me. I can take care of myself.” He paused and grimaced. “When I don’t have a car slamming into me.”

“Was it an accident?” she asked. If he was in the Witness Protection program, anything was suspect.

“I don’t know. I think the other driver died, so we may never know.” He reached for the bag in her left hand. “Did you bring me some clothes?”

Almost without thinking, she’d grabbed them on the way out of the house. She handed them to him. “So what do I call you?”

He paused, his face hard, eyes shuttered. “What did Hayes tell you?”

“A lot. Your friends were more than willing to tell me the truth. Which is more than I can say for you.”

He whirled on her, swayed, and sat hard on the bed, the gray pallor to his face really kicking up her worry meter. Which fueled her anger. She didn’t want to worry about him.

“I’m so sorry, Summer, but I couldn’t tell you the truth,” he said. “I wanted to, so many times, but I couldn’t.” He closed his eyes and swallowed hard. When he opened them, she could see the pain glinting there. “And he’s not my friend. He’s a killer.”

“Organized crime?”

He looked down as he pulled on his pants, then slipped into his shirt. By the time he finished, even the gray was gone and he now had about as much color as the bedsheet beneath him. “Yeah. And you can call me David. They know where I am now.”

“David.” She tried the name and found it bitter on her tongue. “Did you steal the laptop and the flash drive he wants?”

Panting, sweat beading his brow, one hand pressed against his taped ribs, he looked at her. “Yes.”