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

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.

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.”

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 D
AVID
R
YAN
H
ACKETT
. 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.