No One to Trust (Hidden Identity Book #1): A Novel Page 3

  Summer let the door open a little more and crossed her arms. A glance up the street showed two vehicles she’d never seen before parked on the curb. “Really? And where was that?” She heard the hostile tone in her voice, but after her early morning visitors, she wasn’t interested in politeness right now. Especially not for some greased-up car salesman twin.

  He blinked. “Dayton, Ohio. What’s with the third degree?”

  She relaxed a fraction. Kyle had told her a little about his childhood and growing up in Dayton. “So how did you track him to Charleston, South Carolina?”

  “Track him? I didn’t. I’m home visiting family and happened to see him in the parking lot of Home Depot the other day but couldn’t catch up to him fast enough before he drove away.”

  Summer lifted a brow.

  “I followed him, trying to find him,” Mike said, “but lost him when he went in the Top Choice building. I didn’t want to bother him at work so I asked a co-worker where he lived. I’ve been busy and didn’t have a chance until today to get out here and say hey.”

  Kyle had gone to Home Depot to get a part for the garbage disposal, and he also worked with Top Choice Software. Maybe this guy was legit. However, she wanted to have a word with the co-worker who was giving out her home address. “What’s your name again?”

  “Mike Thomas.”

  The man certainly didn’t look harmless, but he didn’t look dangerous either. Not like her visitors this morning. She shuddered. “Kyle’s on a business trip, Mike. I’m sorry you missed him.”

  And she was worried. He hadn’t called and he hadn’t come home. She’d called all the hospitals and gotten nothing. But that just meant he wasn’t in a hospital near her. “A business trip, huh? When will he be back?”

  “Sometime today.” She swallowed hard as her fear resurfaced.

  His eyes narrowed. “What is it?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You had a funny look on your face.”

  “Nothing. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m busy. I’ll tell Kyle you came by.” She glanced again at the unfamiliar vehicles and shut the door. She felt a pang of remorse for her borderline rude behavior, but she was scared and running out of time. She had to find that laptop before those creeps came back. She opened the coat closet and pulled out a fleece hoodie. Slipping it over her head, she walked toward the den.

  “Kyle? What’s going on?” she whispered to the empty room.

  She’d cleaned out the closet, even tapping the walls on the off chance he’d stashed it behind one, and still came up with nothing. Every fifteen minutes, she’d stop to call the Charlotte company.

  Finally, the phone rang. She waited for someone to pick up.

  After the tenth ring, she slammed the phone down.

  And went back to searching. One hour passed. Then two. She stopped to eat a pack of crackers, then went back to her search. Sweat rolled down her face and she cut the heat off. She yanked off the hoodie and kept going.

  Summer worked on bedroom number three, cleaning out and tapping. Her knocks echoed around her and she nearly wailed in frustration another hour later when she came up empty-handed.

  The only place she hadn’t torn apart was the garage.

  Summer hurried into the two-car garage and stood staring at the space. Her baby-blue Ford Fusion blocked her view of a lot of the garage. Where to start?

  The toolshed in the corner? Maybe. The storage closet that they’d packed full and never bothered with?

  Or the area Kyle had built soon after they’d married? She moved to the wooden worktable. Now that she thought about it, Kyle never did spend much time there. She ran shaky fingers over it, felt the sleek treated wood. She tried to think of one occasion when she’d seen Kyle use the table—and couldn’t come up with a single time.

  He used it as a shelf. She tugged on it. Solidly built, it didn’t budge. She examined the sides, knocked on them with her knuckles. Nothing.

  Summer dropped to her knees, ran her hands underneath and all the way to the back.

  And felt it.

  A latch. She flipped it up and a metal box dropped with a clang to the concrete floor.

  Stunned that she actually found something, she stared at it for a moment. Then she gathered her wits. Snatching the box to her chest, she hurried back into the house to set her discovery on the kitchen table.

  Her breaths came in shaky pants as she reached to open the box. She noticed right off it was too small to hold a laptop, but this was something Kyle had very purposely hidden.

  Her fingers touched the latch and she snatched them back. Then forced herself to reach back and flip the latch. She opened the top and sank into the nearest chair, scared to death about what she might find, but too scared not to look.

  She reached in and pulled out a stack of papers, a few photos and—a birth certificate that said DAVID RYAN HACKETT. A picture of him in the Army.

  Oh goodness, Lord, what’s going on?

  The shakes set in again. This time they were due to pure unadulterated fury that overrode the strangling fear that had been her companion since early this morning.

  He’d lied to her.

  With quick, efficient movements, she emptied the rest of the contents and froze as a small piece of paper no larger than her little finger fell onto the table. It contained ten numbers and the words, “I’m sorry.”

  She frowned. I’m sorry? Ten numbers? A combination? A code? A checking account number? No. A phone number?

  Summer grabbed a legal pad and a pen and started listing the contents of the box. Birth certificate, photos of Kyle and another young man who looked a lot like him. Another picture of Kyle smiling stiffly with a man and a woman. His parents? She picked up the picture and walked into the den. She held it next to the picture Kyle had said was his family. Three sisters and a brother and Kyle. With his smiling parents. The picture she held was nothing like the one on the mantel. So who were they?

  She pulled a set of silver dog tags from the box and read the information.

  HACKETT

  DAVID R.

  965-46-9875

  A NEG

  CHRISTIAN

  And then the small piece of paper with the numbers.

  Summer snatched her cell phone, and before she could punch in the numbers, it rang. She didn’t recognize the number. “Hello?”

  “Who was that?”

  “What? Who is this?” But she knew.

  “I’m surprised you don’t recognize my voice.”

  She did. Terror flashed hot and fierce. “I haven’t found them yet. You gave me twelve hours. I’m looking.”

  “I know. I’m watching you search. Now who was the visitor?”

  “A friend of Kyle’s. He was looking for him. I told him he was out of town on a business trip.”

  “Good, because I’d hate to think you were trying to involve the cops in some way.”

  “I’m not.” Chills danced up and down her spine. The nausea from earlier returned and she swallowed hard. Was he really watching? Or simply playing with her? With more bravado than she felt, she took a deep breath. “Now don’t bother me again, you’re taking up time I need to use looking.”

  She clicked off the phone and laid her head on the table. “I can’t believe I just did that.” Whispering the words aloud brought her back to the items in front of her and the reason she needed to find Kyle.

  Summer pulled out her phone and punched in the number for the Charlotte business where Kyle had last been seen.

  And finally got a person.

  Relief rushed through her. “I’m looking for my husband, Kyle Abernathy,” Summer said. “He was doing some computer work for your company this past week and I need to get in touch with him.”

  “I don’t know who he is, I’m sorry. If he’s a contract person, I would have very little contact with him.” She sounded harried and hurried.

  “What about the people who hired him? Or who he reported to when he got there?”

  �
��That would have been me. I just pointed him in the direction of the computers with the list of things that need to be done. That’s it.” Disapproval tinged her tone. “And he was supposed to meet with our CEO before he left. He won’t be getting a good referral from us.”

  “Right. Sorry about that. I’m sure he had a good reason. Could I speak to the head of your company?”

  “He’s not here right now.”

  “When will he be back?” Summer tamped down her impatience.

  “I’m not sure. There was a bad car wreck right outside our building yesterday and he’s at the hospital with Jerry Iles’s family. The phone has been ringing off the hook since it happened.”

  That explained the difficulty reaching them. “What car wreck?”

  A long-suffering sigh filtered through the line. “One of our employees was hit by a car coming out of the parking garage. Or he hit him. I’m not really sure what happened. But Jerry was hurt pretty bad.”

  “What about the other driver?”

  “They said he didn’t have any ID on him. I haven’t heard anything more since they took him to the hospital.”

  “Which hospital?”

  “Trident Health.”

  “Thanks for your help.”

  She hung up.

  Find Kyle or the laptop? Anger burned in her chest. If that was Kyle in the hospital, then he could just stay there.

  Alone. The liar.

  As hard as she tried to tell herself to stay tough, she couldn’t do it. She’d loved him too long, too much. Against her will, she reached for the phone, her heart overruling her head. Then drew her hand back. If he was in the hospital, then he was being cared for. The best thing she could do for him—for them—was to find that laptop. Right?

  Summer offered up a prayer for his safety. “Let him live, Lord,” she whispered. “Let him be okay. Bring him home to me.” She paused. “Because if he’s lied to me, I want to be the one to kill him.” Another pause. “Amen.”

  She looked at the numbers on the piece of paper she still held. Then punched them into her phone.

  6

  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.

  7

  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 th
e 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?”