No One to Trust (Hidden Identity Book #1): A Novel (2 page)

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

Authors: Lynette Eason

Tags: #FIC042060, #Murder—Investigation—Fiction, #FIC042040, #FIC027110, #Missing persons—Fiction

BOOK: No One to Trust (Hidden Identity Book #1): A Novel
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2

FRIDAY MORNING

8:20 A.M.

CHARLESTON, SC

Summer Abernathy opened her eyes to find a gun pointed at her face. A scream formed as she lifted her gaze to a pair of onyx eyes set in the granite face of the man who held the weapon.

“Good morning, sunshine,” he said.

Summer choked down the cry as her mind scrambled to find the appropriate response. Her insides froze as her peripheral vision told her he hadn’t come alone.

He lifted a brow at her silence. “I’m disappointed. That’s all the reaction I get?”

Summer simply looked at him, her vocal cords refusing to cooperate.

He frowned. “Can you speak?”

Somehow she forced the words from her paralyzed throat. “I usually have a little trouble finding words when I wake to strangers in my bedroom and a gun in my face.”

Surprise blinked across his face and he barked a short, amused laugh as dark bushy brows pushed up into his hairline. “You’re spunky. I think I like that.”

“Who are you?”

“That’s not important. Where’s your husband?”

“My hus—? Kyle?” Only then did she look at his side of the bed. It hadn’t been slept in. Her brain fought through quicksand. “I . . . I don’t know.” These guys were obviously not cops. Which meant they were working for the other side. Summer clenched her jaw. “He’s on a . . . a business trip.” But he was due home early this morning. In fact he should have slipped into the bed next to her about two hours ago so they could start their long weekend together. They’d had this day planned for two weeks. There was no way he’d miss it if he were physically capable of being by her side.

A desperate fear for the man she loved consumed her.

The phone rang, nearly shattering her nerves. She reached for it, only to stop when the man next to the door stepped forward, his threatening stance clear.

“It might be Kyle.”

“Look at the number.”

She did and her heart sank. “It’s not him.” It was her sister, Marlee.

It rang three more times before it went to voice mail.

The man with the weapon spoke. “I need to find your husband. He has something that belongs to my boss, and my boss wants it back.” His eyes slid down her in a way that made her skin crawl. She clutched the covers to her chin and glared.

“What does he have?” she asked, trying to hide the terror shivering through her. She did her best to ignore the gun still pointed at her face and raked a hand through her hair. Her mind spun. There were three of them. The one with the gun and two others who stood on either side of her bedroom door. Her heart thudded. “I think you have the wrong house, the wrong person. Kyle would never be mixed up in anything . . . ,” she paused and bit her lip, “um, illegal.”

The phone rang again. Summer knew it was Marlee. Her sister knew she was home and would keep calling until Summer picked up.

With a curse, the man spun and knocked the phone from the table, then yanked the cord from the wall. He turned to his partner nearest the door. “Disconnect any other phones in the house.”

Seeing the instant obedience of the other man, Summer lifted her eyes to the only one who’d spoken. The one with the weapon trained on her.

He leaned forward, the gun moving closer.

Summer refused to shrink away, even as his minty breath brushed her cheek.

“You asked me who I am. My name is Corbin Hayes,” he said. “And your husband was very much involved in something illegal.” A red flush started at the man’s neck and moved up. “Like I said, he stole something from my boss and I’m here to get it back.”

The gun lowered and he moved away from her. Summer drew in a breath but didn’t feel any relief as she knew he wasn’t leaving yet.

He flicked the weapon toward the picture of the two children she kept on her dresser. “Nice-looking kids.”

Her heart pounded and she kept silent.

He picked up the picture and pointed the barrel at an older picture of Laura Todd at age ten. “Would be a shame for something to happen to the little ones.”

“You leave them alone.” The thought of something happening to those children cramped her stomach. They weren’t hers, but they were the reason she did what she did, why she fought as hard as she fought to win the cases that were important. As a family court lawyer, she handled some of the most delicate cases that involved precious, innocent lives.

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.”

“Stacy, 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.

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