No One to Trust (Hidden Identity Book #1): A Novel Read online

  Cases like the one they were involved in.

  Hayes handed the gun to his cohort, who in turn passed him a very wicked-looking knife.

  Fear glued her tongue to the roof of her mouth.

  Hayes turned the knife over and tested the sharpness of the blade with a chewed fingernail. A piece of his nail flaked off. Summer couldn’t blink, couldn’t move, couldn’t fight. She was completely outnumbered.

  Lord, help me!

  “Grab her hand,” Corbin ordered.

  “No!” Fighting them would be futile. Think! Think! “What do you want? Just tell me!”

  Those hard black eyes slid back to hers as the man on her left grabbed her wrist in a brutal grip. The knife settled at the base of her left pinkie. A sob threatened and she choked it back. Were they going to take her finger and let her live? Or were they going to kill her slowly, piece by tiny piece?

  Nausea threatened. She held it back by sheer will. “Please … ,” she whispered, keeping her gaze locked on his. The other brute’s grasp on her wrist had just about cut off all feeling in her hand. “I’ll do anything.”

  “Anything?”

  “Yes. What do you want?”

  The blade pressed. “I want the laptop he stole and the flash drive that goes with it.”

  “Okay! I’ll get them!” A stinging sensation started in her pinkie finger and darted up her arm as a warm, sticky wetness tickled the side of her hand. She wanted to struggle, to scream, to fight. But why waste her energy when she could clearly see the end result? Summer closed her eyes as she waited for the agonizing pain of having a finger cut off.

  But it didn’t come. Instead, the blade lifted. She opened her eyes and blinked to clear her gaze of the tears that now dripped down her cheeks.

  Hayes asked, “Where are they?”

  “I don’t know.” The blade returned and she screamed, “But I’ll find them! I’ll look everywhere, I … I promise.”

  “You have twelve hours.” He glanced at her clock. “I’ll be back at 8:36 tonight.” His gaze raked her once again and she prepared herself for a fight of another kind.

  His fingers touched the base of her throat and Summer swallowed hard but refused to shrink away. She knew he could see her fear, feel the pounding of her heart, beating like the wings of a hummingbird beneath his fingers.

  He lifted the necklace Kyle had given her for their one-month anniversary. An ornate silver cross. A sign of their shared faith. Hayes turned it one way, then the next. “Lovely,” he murmured. “Such an intricate design.” He dropped it and it thudded against her throat, feeling heavy—and defiled. She swallowed.

  “You’re very beautiful,” he whispered.

  Nausea churned again. “Get. Away. From. Me.”

  His lips curled, his eyes glinted with a wicked light, and Summer caught her breath, wondering if he had something even more sinister planned for her. She lifted her jaw.

  And then he moved away from her. The man holding her wrist released her. The two silent partners backed toward the door. Summer sat shivering, trembling, clasping her whole hand to her chest.

  Hayes, the last to leave, turned suddenly and she nearly shrieked. But he didn’t approach her.

  “Don’t call the police,” he said. “If you do, we’ll know because we’ll be watching you.” He held up a finger and waved it at her. “And just for your information, your husband’s name isn’t Kyle Abernathy, it’s David Hackett.” He smirked. “Google him.”

  3

  FRIDAY

  8:40 A.M.

  David groaned and tried to move, but his body wouldn’t cooperate. Steady beeping echoed in his ears, aggravating him, exacerbating the pain in his head. Nausea swirled.

  “Sir? Are you awake? Can you hear me?”

  David wanted to answer but couldn’t get the words out.

  He might have grunted.

  “Are you in pain?”

  Yes! What happened? Where was he? Antiseptic, the smell of … sterile. Alcohol. A hospital.

  “You’ve been in a car wreck.”

  Memory returned with the force of a tsunami.

  He remembered the flash of silver before the horrific jolt against the seat belt.

  And he remembered Corbin Hayes.

  Summer!

  David struggled against the pain, against whatever held him to the bed. He had to get to Summer.

  “Sir, calm down.” To someone near the bed, she said, “His heart rate is dangerously elevated.”

  “Let’s sedate him for now.”

  “No … please …” David heard his low rasp that no one else noticed.

  He wanted to weep, but uttered a desperate prayer to the God he’d only known a short time.

  As he drifted back toward the black void of nothingness, he prayed for Summer, begging God to keep her safe.

  8:45 A.M.

  Summer leaped from the bed, raced into the bathroom, and lost what little she had in her stomach. She sank to the bathroom floor and cried until she wondered if she’d ever stop. Finally, she splashed water onto her face.

  “Stop crying and think,” she muttered. “Think. Now.” God, tell me what to do, please!

  As she cleaned and bandaged her finger, her thoughts swirled. Where was Kyle? Why hadn’t he come home? Had someone in their organization found him and the guys who invaded her home just didn’t know it? No. They would communicate better than that. Wouldn’t they?

  And who were they?

  Her best guess was Mafia, but she wasn’t sure. Her experience was family court, not criminal law. But she was smart enough to recognize evil when she saw it.

  A shudder rippled up her back.

  Members of the Mafia. In her bedroom. Looking for Kyle and threatening her. Could it be?

  Maybe. Maybe not. After all, this was South Carolina, not New York or Chicago. She rubbed a hand down her face as she forced her mind to work.

  No. Whoever they were, they were lying. They had the wrong person. Kyle would never do what they’d accused him of. Because if he had, that meant that he’d lied to her and he’d promised he’d never do that. He’d sworn to it.

  Still shivering, she stumbled back into the bedroom and snatched the cordless phone from the base. Then remembered she had to plug it back in. It took her four tries, but she finally managed to get her quivering fingers to cooperate. Once she had a dial tone, she pressed 9-1, then stopped. He’d said not to call the cops. He would know.

  How?

  Would he really know?

  What if he had her phone tapped? Could she take the chance?

  She slammed the phone down and sat back on the bed to think. Summer looked at the clock. Twenty minutes had passed since she’d experienced her meltdown. Tremors shook her, but they would fade. It was time to push past the terror and focus, to figure out what to do. She found her purse, pulled the cell phone out, and punched in Kyle’s phone number. “We’re sorry, this number is no longer in service.”

  A new fear clutched her.

  She tried again and got the same message. By the fourth time, she accepted she wasn’t going to get through.

  As soon as she hung up, the phone rang. She gasped and looked at the caller ID.

  Her sister. Summer groaned, dropped the phone on her bed, and let the call go to voice mail once again. She rose to pace the bedroom, her mind spinning. A laptop.

  Where would Kyle—or was it David—hide one? No, of course it wasn’t David. His name was Kyle. They had the wrong person. Right?

  For the first time since they’d left, doubt crept in. He’d said, “… your husband’s name isn’t Kyle Abernathy, it’s David Hackett.” He knew Kyle’s name. He knew he was her husband.

  Google him.

  All right, she would. In a minute.

  Summer grabbed her cell phone and found Kyle’s work number. She paused. What if they could listen in on her cell phone?

  She had to chance it. She pressed Send.

  “Top Choice Software.”

  “Stac
y, this is Summer. I’m trying to reach Kyle and his work phone has been disconnected. Is he there?” She didn’t believe it for a minute, but didn’t want to set off any alarms in case they were listening.

  “Hi, Summer. No, Kyle hasn’t been in this morning. Hold on, let me check his schedule.” Summer heard rustling, a keyboard clicking. “He’s been in Charlotte this week and had today off, remember?”

  “Oh, right.” Summer pressed for the information she was really after. “What company was he working with in Charlotte? I’ll just give them a call and see if he said anything to anyone about staying late.” Stacy paused and Summer could almost hear the questions forming in the woman’s brain. “We have a little family emergency,” Summer said. “And I just need to talk to him.”

  “Is everything all right?”

  Summer grasped hard for patience. Keeping her voice calm, she said, “Everything will be fine. I just need to talk to Kyle.”

  “Of course.” More clicking. “The company he was working with is a new client of ours, a medical supplier, James and Sons Medical. And here’s the number.” Stacy rattled it off and Summer jotted it down.

  “Thanks.” She hung up and dialed the Charlotte number.

  And got an automated response. “All of our operators are with a customer at this time. If you would like to hold, please stay on the line and someone will be with you momentarily.”

  She hung up and tried again. And again.

  Frustration filled her. One thing was certain. She had very little time to figure out where Kyle would hide a laptop and flash drive.

  If Kyle had even hidden them.

  Michael Thomas was tempted to toss his cell phone in the nearest trash can. Kyle wasn’t answering, his service disconnected. So where was the man? Mike had already driven by the house where David and Summer lived but had seen nothing out of the ordinary. Summer had no idea who Mike was and he wanted to keep it that way. If Kyle was in trouble, he’d contact Mike first, then Summer.

  Summer.

  A problem in the WITSEC equation as far as he was concerned, but Kyle had been adamant that marrying Summer would throw off those looking for him. They were looking for a single guy, not a married man with a mortgage.

  Mike had to admit, it had worked well for the last year. And he couldn’t blame Kyle for being attracted to the dark-haired beauty.

  But now there was a problem.

  Kyle was off the grid, and Mike’s neck was on the line if he didn’t find him. And besides, Kyle had become more than just a client to keep safe. He had become a friend.

  Mike was determined to find him.

  And he may have to start with Summer.

  4

  Olivia Todd stared into the rearview mirror. She curled her fingers around the steering wheel and listened to the praise and worship music pouring from her radio speakers.

  She had it turned up, needing the comfort she found in the songs, the reassurance that she wasn’t alone, that God really did love her and want the best for her and the girls. Summer had turned her on to the band that now sang about every day being another day to wake from her sleep and raise her hands in praise to him.

  She sang along, “‘I am tired, I am weak, your hands wake me from my sleep.’”

  “I like that song, Mommy,” Sandy said. “What’s it called?”

  “‘Wake’ by Jupiter Wind. Summer told me about it.”

  Even while she regretted the day she ever met the man she’d married, the music filled her with hope. It might be a desperate hope, but at least it was something.

  Her eyes landed on her two precious girls in the backseat and she sighed. No, she couldn’t wish she’d never met Silas Todd, but she could sure wish he were a different type of man than the one who was trying to take her girls away from her. Not because he wanted them, but because he hated her and wanted to hurt her with the deepest possible wound he could think of.

  And that meant going through her children straight to her heart.

  Twelve-year-old Laura already had eyes that were too old and burned with anger. And eight-year-old Sandy was scared of everything. Most especially males. Silas had done that to them. He’d done it to her too, but she’d finally managed to find her backbone when he’d put Sandy in the hospital with a broken rib that had pierced a lung.

  Her baby. Her heart. Fighting to breathe, bewildered and confused, hurt by a man who was supposed to protect her, lay his life down for her.

  Even now, the conversation she’d overheard between her girls echoed through her mind. She’d gone to get a much-needed cup of coffee. When she returned to the hospital room, the door was cracked open. Low voices reached her ears and she stopped to listen.

  “What did I do to make him mad, Laura? Why didn’t Mommy stop him? Why didn’t she make him stop?”

  Olivia flinched at the breathless, gasping words.

  “Because Mom’s scared of him too. I don’t blame her.”

  “But you tried. You threw a lamp at him.”

  “That’s because I don’t care if he hits me, but he’s not going to hit you. Ever again.” Laura’s suppressed rage filtered through the crack in the hospital door as she climbed into the bed next to her sister, who was succumbing to the painkillers. “That’s a promise. I’ll take one of those big butcher knives in the kitchen and run it right through his heart before I let him touch you again.”

  Olivia slid to the floor, her legs no longer containing the strength to hold her up. “Oh, sweet Lord, show me where to go.” Because it was no longer a matter of what to do, it was now a matter of where she would get the help to leave her abusive and powerful husband.

  A powerful husband who had her followed and didn’t bother trying to hide it. She couldn’t even go to her mother’s without him doing his best to intimidate her. She firmed her jaw and her resolve. He was a bully and she and the girls were his victims, but she wasn’t going to play by his rules anymore.

  A decision which had led her to her present situation.

  Olivia turned left, then right. The car behind her did the same.

  But that was fine. Tuesday, she and the girls would be free of him. Free to leave the state and disappear. And if the judge ruled otherwise, she was still prepared to run.

  Silas Todd would not lay a hand on her or her girls ever again.

  She just had to make it to Tuesday and Summer would take care of everything.

  Or Olivia would.

  One way or another.

  5

  11:06 A.M.

  Summer’s phone rang and she snatched it. “Hello?”

  “Summer?”

  Summer’s pulse slowed. “Hi, Olivia.” Olivia Todd, her number one client.

  “Celeste called. They moved the court date to Tuesday. Are we going to be okay with that?”

  Celeste Martin, her paralegal. “Yes, of course. We’ll be there. I could argue this case today if I had to. It’s no problem.” Summer hadn’t checked her email this morning. She calculated. Today was Friday. Surely everything with Kyle would be fine by Tuesday. This was all just a horrible misunderstanding.

  Wasn’t it?

  “You promise?” The anxiety and fear Olivia lived with on a daily basis came through loud and clear.

  “Yes, I’m ready. We’ve got the evidence of his affair, dated pictures of him at bars partying when the girls were in his care. All of this will work in our favor for getting you custody.” She paused. “And if we have to, even though I don’t want to put her through that, we can use Laura’s willingness to testify against him.”

  A shaky sigh slipped through the line. “I can’t believe this. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, Summer. We were supposed to grow old together and now he’s … I don’t even know who he is anymore,” Olivia whispered.

  Summer had felt sympathy for her clients before. She’d been angry on their behalf. She’d fought for their rights. Now she felt empathy. Her heart hurt for Olivia. “I know exactly what you mean.” Her throat clogged and she cleared it. �
�But you have to keep the safety of your kids in mind. You’re doing the right thing.”

  “I know.”

  On impulse, Summer said, “Do you want me to pray with you?”

  Silence greeted her question and she bit her lip. She thought Olivia was a Christian, but maybe Summer had made the woman feel uncomfortable. “Of all the things you could do for me, that’s the one that counts the most. Yes, please. Let’s pray.”

  So Summer prayed. Prayed for the safety of her client and her two children, prayed for a favorable outcome with the judge on Tuesday, and then added a silent plea for the Lord to reveal the truth to her about her husband and her marriage.

  She hung up with Olivia and tried the Charlotte number again. She’d gotten that stupid automated message for the past two hours and she was fast losing patience. Lord, what do I do?

  The doorbell rang, interrupting her prayer. Fear swept through her. Had Hayes and his crew come back?

  No, he wouldn’t have bothered with the doorbell. Her tension eased slightly. She moved to look out the window and frowned when she spotted a stranger standing on her front porch. She didn’t have time for interruptions. Maybe if she ignored him, he’d go away.

  The bell pealed again.

  Maybe not.

  She opened the door a crack and shivered as a gust of wind blew across her bare arms. “May I help you?”

  “Hey, you must be Summer.” An engaging grin creased his cheeks and she thought she saw a dimple peeking from the right side. “I’m looking for Kyle, is he around?”

  “No, he’s not here. Sorry.”

  Disappointment flashed. “Aw, man. Do you know where he is?”

  Her fear returned in spades. So if they couldn’t threaten her into telling her where he was, they’d send Mr. Nice Guy? “Why do you want to find him?”

  The man held his hands palms up in an “I’m innocent” gesture. “Hey, I’m Mike, an old friend. We used to live in the same neighborhood when Kyle was growing up.”