No One to Trust (Hidden Identity Book #1): A Novel (28 page)

Summer gave a short laugh. “I don’t know that I’d go that far, but . . .” She raised his hand to her lips and kissed his knuckles. “But I’m glad that God can take something so awful like murder and betrayal and bring something beautiful from it.”

“Like us?”

“Yeah. Like us.”

He went quiet for a moment. “After the trial, I won’t have a job anymore.”

“Actually you won’t even have to go to trial now,” Chase said.

Summer and David turned as one. Chase stood at the top of the stairs. He walked toward them.

“What do you mean?” Summer asked.

“Sam was killed last night by another inmate. Broke his neck on the basketball court.”

Summer took a moment to let that settle in. A flash of grief sparked in David’s eyes and he ran a hand down his face. “So there’s no trial.”

“Can’t try a dead man.” Chase squeezed his shoulder. “I know he was your friend. He made some rotten choices, but you guys were tight at one time. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, me too.” David blew out a breath and looked at her. “Guess that means I’m unemployed as of now then.”

Chase said, “You could always apply to the marshals.”

David grinned. “Right.”

Summer said, “I think you’ve found your niche, though.”

“What’s that?”

“Helping people. Working incognito to ferret out information to be used to put the bad guys away.”

He nodded. “Yeah. I liked that part. I didn’t like the info I uncovered, but yes, it felt good to see justice done.”

“Then I think you need to look for a career along those lines.”

“All right.” He paused. “But I don’t want to work for someone else. I think I want to be my own boss.”

She lifted a brow. “I can see that.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“And if you need an employee, I’d like to apply,” Adam said as he rounded the corner and joined them on the stairs.

“You’re really going to quit the marshals?” Summer asked.

“Yeah. I messed up. I should have told what I knew immediately.” He shook his head. “If I don’t wind up with jail time, I’ll need a job.”

Summer felt her throat tighten at the thought of Adam going to jail. So he’d made a mistake by calling his uncle. One that could have cost them all their lives, but he’d also done his best to rectify it.

David gave a slow nod. “We’ll talk.”

Adam nodded and winced as he moved to go back upstairs. Summer hoped he healed fast.

Chase clapped David on the back. “You two ready to go home? Need a ride?”

Summer glanced at David. “Not yet. We’re still talking and I need to check on Marlee.”

“All right.” He gave them a salute. “I’ll be in touch.”

“Thanks for everything.”

Chase gave a small smile. “Oh, here. One of the guys who investigated Bennie and the wreck thought you might want this back.” He held up her purse and she took it with a smile.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.” Chase turned and disappeared up the stairs.

Summer captured David’s lips with hers. “I love you, David Kyle Abernathy Hatchett.”

He laughed and kissed her again. “And I love you, Mrs. David Kyle Abernathy Hatchett.”

“So . . . after I check on Marlee, what do you want to do?”

He gave her a wicked grin. “Go home and take a nap.”

Summer gave him a shove and his laughter was the best thing she’d heard in a long time.

“I have a better idea,” he said.

“What’s that?”

“I hear Jupiter Wind is going to be playing in concert tomorrow night. I know where I can score a couple of tickets. You interested?”

She pretended to think about it. “Sounds kind of boring after our recent excitement.” His face fell and she hugged him. “I’m just kidding, silly. That sounds lovely.”

He kissed her. “I love you. And I’m glad you’re not running from me anymore.”

She slapped his arm and smiled. “You were getting tired of the chase?”

“Not tired.” He turned serious. “Scared. Very, very scared I wasn’t going to ‘catch’ you.” He wiggled his fingers at the word, then snagged her hands. “So will you be my date tomorrow night?”

She squeezed his fingers. “Tomorrow night and every night.”

He grinned. “Deal.”

Many, many, many thanks to my friend, Drucilla Wells, retired FBI agent, for her priceless input into the story. If anything isn’t accurate, it’s the fault of this author.

Another huge thanks goes out to my buddy, Police Officer Jim Hall. Thank you so much for taking the time out of your schedule to critique my police procedure. AGAIN, if anything isn’t accurate, it’s my fault.

Both of these great people have taught me so much about law enforcement, and I appreciate it to the moon and back.

A huge thanks to my friend and critique partner, DiAnn Mills. Loved brainstorming this story with you. You rock, lady.

Thank you to Ginny Aiken for reading the story and giving me your spot-on comments. I appreciate you!

Thanks to my family, of course, for their willingness to allow me to do what I do.

Thanks to Barb Barnes! This book wouldn’t read nearly so well without your keen eye and skillful tweaks.

Thank you, readers who visit me on Facebook. Your encouragement and love are powerful motivators to write the best stories I
can for you and the Lord. Thank you for stopping by and making me laugh. Thank you also for sharing your trials and concerns and allowing me to pray for you. And thank you for allowing me to write the books I write. I love you all.
If you’ve just found me for the first time, feel free to stop by at
www.facebook.com/lynette.eason
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Thank you, sweet Jesus, for giving me the love of words and the gift for writing them. May they always make you smile. I give you all the credit and all the glory. Amen.

Danielle Harding pressed the ice pack to her bruised cheek and watched her husband back out of the driveway. No time for tears or for the hatred she felt for the man.

Instead, she turned from the window and rushed up the stairs to the master bedroom. From the closet, she pulled out her midsize suitcase and tossed it onto the king-size bed. She bolted into the large walk-in closet and grabbed the clothes she’d already planned to take. Next, the toiletries.

At the slam of the door she froze. Terror thrummed through her veins.

“Dani?”

He’d come back. No, no, no. Light-headed with the rush of terror, Dani grabbed the suitcase and shut it, zipped it.

Heard his footsteps on the stairs.

“Dani!”

A cold sweat broke out all over her body. She pulled the suitcase into the closet and shoved it toward the back.

Breathless, she called, “I’m up here, Kurt.” What was he doing back? She should have waited.

Icy fear slugged her in the gut. She backed out of the closet and pulled the door shut. She made a beeline for the bathroom and
grabbed the brush from the sink seconds before he stepped into the room.

“What are you doing?”

“Brushing my hair. It needed it.” She dragged the bristles through the tangles he’d left when he’d grabbed her by the back of the head. Her hand trembled. She set the brush on the counter and turned to face him, hoping no emotions showed. “What are you doing back? Did you forget something?”

“Yeah. My wallet. Have you seen it?”

“You put it in your coat pocket.”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

He stared at her. Before she could stop herself, she raised a hand to cover the forming bruise beneath her right eye.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his dark eyes reflecting a remorse she’d seen too many times in their twelve years of marriage. A remorse that would vanish as soon as he perceived she’d done something wrong again.

“It’s okay,” she soothed. “You didn’t mean it. It was my fault anyway. I shouldn’t have pushed the issue.”

She wanted to have a birthday party for their son, Simon. Kurt had said no. She’d begged him to reconsider and he’d punched her in the face.

He reached toward her now and she couldn’t help the small flinch. His jaw tightened and his eyes narrowed.

Quickly, she stepped forward and placed a kiss on his lips. “I’ll see you when you get back.”

His features softened and he nodded. He glanced at the clock. “I gotta get out of here. You’re sure it’s in my coat pocket?”

“Positive.”

“Right. Bye.”

“Bye,” she whispered.

He loped back down the stairs. She watched him from the bal
cony overlooking the foyer. He turned back and she caught her breath.

“I’ll be home day after tomorrow.”

“I know. Be safe.” She tried not to choke on the words.

He gave her a two-fingered salute and slipped out the door.

Dani sank to the floor, her legs no longer able to support her. “Oh Lord, I don’t think I can do this.”

Jenny Cartee had assured her she could. Jenny. Dear, sweet Jenny, who’d recognized an abused wife and confronted her about it. Jenny, who’d showed Dani that she had worth, didn’t deserve to be a punching bag, and helped her find the courage to leave before her husband killed her. Or Simon.

Just thinking about her son gave her the strength to rise to her feet.

Eleven-year-old Simon. If she couldn’t do this for herself, she had to do it for her son. And her mother who wanted to see her and her grandson one more time before she died.

Dani waited fifteen minutes to make sure Kurt was really gone this time. Then she moved fast. She dragged the suitcase from the closet and finished packing it with her things, added Simon’s, and then carried the luggage down the stairs and into the garage.

The black SUV sat in the far spot, just waiting. Only she didn’t have the keys. Kurt hid them from her, said she didn’t have anywhere she needed to go. Simon rode to and from school with a friend, and he was due home in an hour. As soon as he walked in the door, they would leave, thanks to a YouTube video that showed her how to start a car without the keys.

Dani went back into the house and up the stairs to the guest bedroom. She moved the nightstand and pulled up the swatch of carpet covering the small hole she’d cut into the plywood. The small box beckoned to her from its resting place on the two-by-four. She grabbed it, covered the hole with the carpet, and moved the nightstand back into place. She had managed to gather a few
hundred dollars and stash the money along with some other items in the little box. But she needed more.

She hurried back into the master bedroom and set the box on the bed. Then looked at the picture on the wall. Before she had a chance to talk herself out of it, she removed the picture and looked at the dial on the safe. She’d played with the combination a few times, when the thought of leaving had consumed her. Always before she had come up empty. If this time was the same, she’d just have to take what she had and go.

Again, she tried birthdays, anniversaries, the time Simon was born. His brother’s birthday, his mother’s. Nothing. Frustration clawed at her.

Then it hit her. Kurt was a narcissist. It wouldn’t be about his family. It would be about him. His pride. What did he cherish the most?

His job. His status. She tried his birthday, his graduation day from the academy. Her fingers stilled.

His badge number.

4892.

But she only needed three numbers for the combination.

She shot a glance at the clock. Time ticked away. Maybe she should just give up.

But not yet.

Something pushed her to get into the safe. She spun the dial. 4-8-9.

Nothing.

She ran her sweaty palms down her jean-clad thighs. Heart pounding faster than usual, she went back to the combination. 8-9-2.

Nothing.

48-9-2. She pulled the handle.

Click.

The door opened with a quiet whoosh.

A thrill shot through her. She’d done it. The door to the safe
stood open. She wasted a precious ten seconds just staring at the piles of cash in front of her. Then raced to grab a bag from her closet. Almost weeping with gratitude, she swept the money into the bag and, after only a moment’s hesitation, emptied the entire safe.

Which included a Glock 17 and other items she didn’t have time to identify.

Her blood hummed as she saw the stacks of twenty-dollar bills. Elation flowed. She would be able to take care of Simon without worrying about money until she found a job. A new name, a new place, a new life. The thought nearly made her giddy.

She shut the safe and replaced the picture.

And the clock continued to tick away its minutes. Minutes to freedom. Her heart beat hard and she heard herself panting.

Taking a moment to compose herself, she breathed in through her nose and out through her mouth. “You’re almost there, Dani. You’re almost there.”

She raced back down the stairs and out into the garage once more. She hid the bag with the money under the backseat. She returned to the house to fix a cooler of food when the phone rang. She jumped. Froze.

Then glanced at the caller ID. Kurt. Her hand hovered over the handset. What would he do if she ignored it?

Turn around and come back.

She snatched it up. “Hello?”

“Stuart’s coming by in about five minutes,” Kurt said by way of greeting.

“What? Why?” Her stomach cramped. That would ruin everything.

“He’s coming to get something I left in the safe. He should almost be there.”

The safe? Really? Today? Stuart came by occasionally to get something from the safe, but today? Fear screamed through her. She spun to look at the clock. “Couldn’t he get it tomorrow?”

“Why? You got plans?” The low threat in his voice warned her not to push him. Not when she was this close.

Dani swallowed hard. “Of course not. Tell him that’s fine, I’ll be here.”

“That’s what I thought you meant.” He hung up.

She ran to the window and glanced out toward the driveway. No sign of Stuart. Did she have time to get the bag out of the car and put the contents back in the safe?

Movement at the end of the street caught her eye.

Stuart.

No time.

Her mind spun and the only plan she could come up with was to play it cool. But what could she say when he saw the empty safe?

Just thinking about being alone in the house with him made her shudder. Three years Kurt’s senior, the man that made her skin crawl. Blessed with outrageous good looks, he had the personality of a viper. And the reflexes. Striking when one least expected it. Silent and sneaky with cold eyes she couldn’t read and avoided looking at.

Her fingers shook, her blood raced.
Oh dear Lord
, what do I do?

Tears surfaced. How had she ever thought she could get away with this?

Stuart pulled into the drive.

Anxiety made her nauseous.

“You can do this. Don’t stop to think, just do it.”

She watched Stuart climb out of the car and walk up the steps to the front porch.

The doorbell rang.