Identity--A Tale of Murder, Mystery and Romance

by H. D. Thomson

  “Nothing.” Seated at a booth by the window, David forced himself to look across the restaurant’s dining table at his dad. “Have you decided what you want for breakfast?”

  “I guess I’ll have my usual.” His dad sighed and placed his menu by the edge of the table.

  David tried to focus on his menu, but his mind, incapable of merging letters into words, veered back to Skye Hunter. She sat alone, approximately twenty-feet down the aisle, against the wall and to the left of their booth. She was busy talking to the waitress. This morning she’d pulled back her thick chestnut hair into a ponytail. The black shirt with spaghetti straps emphasized the pale hue of her shoulders and arms. She looked fresh, vibrant and of all things—innocent.

  But David wasn’t fooled. The woman had to be following him. Why else would she show up here? This diner, miles from the strip, didn’t attract tourists, so the odds of a chance meeting were improbable at the very least. He didn’t trust anything about her.

  Three days after meeting Skye Hunter, and still her name filled him with a mixture of anxiety and dread, though not as mind-numbing as his initial reaction. After thoroughly searching his past, David didn’t have any justification behind his behavior.

  “There you go again looking at God knows what.” His dad grunted and peered over his shoulder.

  “Hey,” David said in a harsh whisper. “You’re being obvious!”

  To his relief, David found Skye still talking to the waitress, a stout woman with a shock of thick, white hair.

  His dad turned back around and made a face at him. “And you’re not?”

  “I’m not making a big production of it.”

  Their waitress came for their orders, but when she left, David realized his dad didn’t plan on dropping the subject.

  “So who is she?” Gordon asked.

  “How do you know I’m looking at a ‘she’?”

  “Because she’s the only one worth looking at. And anyway, after twenty-eight years, I should know my own son by now.”

  “It’s twenty-nine.”

  “You don’t have to tell me something I already know! I just like to forget that one year when you were seventeen and a complete turd.”

  David groaned and suppressed the urge to rub his face in frustration. Sometimes he wondered who was the parent, the way his dad deliberately tried to provoke a reaction, however negative. But even at his most frustrated, David knew his dad wouldn’t hesitate to sacrifice his life to save his son.

  For years it had just been the two of them. His mother had decided raising a child didn’t fit in with her life after all and took off out-of-state. Over the years, he’d seen her five or six times. Last year, he’d received a Christmas card from her, revealing she’d moved to Florida with her current husband.

  Some might consider her mothering abilities appalling, but David stopped caring when he realized he didn’t have anything in common with the woman. But he did wonder at the other, deeper scars she’d left behind.

  His dad never remarried. Oh, there’d been girlfriends. He remembered very few when he was young, but when David reached his twenties, the women became a more prominent fixture. They never lasted longer than a couple of years, though.

  Even today, women—he’d been told by the very same—found his dad at fifty-eight attractive with a tall, lanky frame and a thick head of hair that was more gray than brown. He’d lost a good percentage of muscle mass from a bout with colon cancer a few years back. Thank God, he’d made it through.

  “Do you plan on asking her out?”

  David blinked. It took him a second to realize what his dad was asking. “No! I mean, no.”

  “Why not? You’ve been gawking at her like you’ve never seen an attractive woman before. Which is odd in itself, because I know how spoiled you are when it comes to women. I swear your front door’s like a dang airport terminal. I’m just glad I don’t live with you. That way I don’t have to see all that monkey business going on around me.”

  “Funny. Ha, ha.” David pulled out a roll of antacid tablets from his jeans pocket and peeled back the wrapping.

  “Then why have you been staring at her?”

  “She’s been following me.”

  The truth slipped out before David had the sense to keep silent.

  “Following you, eh? Has it gotten so bad you’ve got them following you now?”

  David frowned and shook his head, avoiding his father’s sharp, brown-eyed gaze. “It’s not like that. At least, I don’t get the feeling she’s some crazed stalker.”

  His dad swiveled around and looked over his shoulder.

  “Stop staring!” David dug two tablets out of the roll, stuffed both in his mouth and chewed as he stared over at Skye. Thanks for small favors. Her attention seemed to be on the table in front of her and not on this booth.

  When his dad twisted back around, he glanced over at the roll of tablets in David’s hand and muttered something under his breath before saying, “I’ll stop, if you stop shoveling those antacids down your throat. How many times have I told you that there’s over-the-counter medicine that lasts twenty-four hours? And if you’d just lay off the diet soda and the Mexican food then you—”

  “Dad, I think we’ve been down this road before.”

  “Of course we have, and I wouldn’t keep at it if you just listened to your old man...”

  David gave his father a threatening look, which shut him up for all of two seconds.

  “I think you should ask her over,” his father urged.

  “Hey—what—no. Are you crazy? You can’t do that.” He said the last in a low, panicked voice as he watched his dad turn and wave at Skye until he caught her attention.

  Skye didn’t appear shocked at having some strange, old man gesture at her to come over. But then, David didn’t believe anyone read past her ambiguous expression unless she wanted them to.

  “I just did ‘that.’” His dad flashed him a smug smile. “You can’t find out about someone from across a room. You’ve got to talk to them. Maybe if you just asked her why she’s following you, you’ll get a simple explanation. And anyway, she’s easy on the eye, and it’ll be nice to talk to a female for a change. I’m getting tired of talking to a bunch of men day in and day out.”

  “I don’t like being manipulated and—” David stumbled to a halt.

  Skye appeared at their table. He noticed the thick, black belt wrapped around a pair of low-slung jeans, an inch of bare midriff and a form-fitting black shirt. How wearing something so simple could look so damn sexy was beyond him. She had the type of lean, limber body that had his mind veering to thoughts of hot, wild sex. Up close, he’d forgotten how gorgeous she was, but having her two feet away amplified every feminine feature.

  Geeze.

  If only he wasn’t so damn attracted to her.

  His dad broke into a smile, deepening the lines already bracketing his mouth. “Hey? I’m Gordon, David’s father. I thought I’d introduce myself and get you over here before David here embarrasses himself further by staring like some lovesick fool.”

  “Dad!” David rubbed a palm across his face in complete mortification.

  Skye lifted a brow but looked amused.

  “You’re going to have to excuse my dad. He’s made a career out of embarrassing me.”

  “Only because he makes it so easy,” his dad added quickly, a definite twinkle in his eye. “Will you join us? Or have you ordered yet?”

  “I’d love to, but I’m waiting for my food.”

  “We can have Jennifer bring it to our table.”

  The man wouldn’t give up, David thought in disbelief as he met Skye’s gaze. “Don’t let my dad railroad you into doing something you don’t want to.”

  “He’s not.” A muscle along her jaw flexed. “And no one makes me do anything I don’t want.”

  By the determined glint in her eyes, David believed her. He couldn’t remember seeing a woman with such determination, even ruthlessness in her face, no
matter how brief. For some crazy reason seeing those emotions further stoked his interest. This woman wasn’t some tame kitten. No. He had a good idea if he got too close and decided to cross her, he’d come away flayed.

  “Move over, David, so she can sit down.”

  David glared at his dad before sliding across the seat to make room for Skye. The booth’s cushion adjusted to her weight as she sank down beside him. The scent of her, a hint of lavender and something else—something equally feminine—drifted toward him. He watched Skye grip the edge of the table with long, delicate fingers.

  A vision of those same fingers on his skin flashed in his mind, making him think of how they’d touch his body. Were they as dangerous as the look in her eyes? Would they claw or caress? Were they experienced or—

  “I’m sorry, but I didn’t catch your name,” his father said, interrupting David’s wild speculations.

  “It’s Skye. Skye Hunter.”

  “Well, Skye—Hell, you’ve got the most amazing freckles. I can’t remember the last time I saw so many on a woman—”

  “Dad!”

  Gordon waved a hand at him. “Don’t get your panties in a bundle. I meant it as a compliment. I love freckles on a woman. Always have.”

  “Why, thank you.”

  David heard the amusement in Skye’s voice and the laugh that immediately followed, but rather than relaxing, he tensed. Damn, his father might be right when it came to his reaction to Skye. Her presence kicked up his pulse rate and tossed his composure down the toilet. And right now, his response didn’t have anything to do with the feelings her name instigated or the mystery behind why she’d followed him here today, but everything to do with this sexual awareness she fueled inside him.

  Jennifer came with their breakfast. Several minutes went by until his dad decided to be his usual blunt self. “David seems to think you’ve been following him.”

  David jerked his gaze to her face. He wanted to reprimand his dad at his lack of tact, but he wanted to gauge her reaction far more.

  “Really?” She lifted one beautifully arched brow at David. Slowly, she reached for her coffee cup and took a sip. Only after she placed the cup down on the table, did she say, “How strange.”

  So cool, so controlled. It drove David nuts. She could deny all she wanted, but he knew she’d followed him here. “Then why show up at this restaurant?”

  “Why would I follow you? And here, of all places? And even if I did, how would I do that? I would have to know where you lived. And even if I did know where you lived, what possible reason would I have to follow you? Yes, I found your show fascinating, but not nearly enough to shadow your every move. Being in the same restaurant is mere coincidence.”

  “You’re lying.”

  Anger flashed in her hazel eyes, and she took a savage bite of her toast. Finally, he realized with satisfaction, he’d managed to chip at her composure. Turning toward her more fully, he placed an elbow along the back of the booth and searched for something else to get past her self-control.

  “David, you’re being rude.”

  He ignored his dad’s comment and continued to stare at Skye. At his dad’s well-placed kick to his shin under the table, David grunted.

  “See David? She’s not following you. How about we put it down to wishful thinking on your part.”

  Hearing the hard edge to his dad’s voice and not wanting his other shin kicked, David shifted back against the booth. “Fine.”

  “So what do you think of Vegas? Do you live here or are you just visiting?” his dad asked Skye.

  “We moved here over a month ago.”

  “Because of family?”

  “In part.” Skye nodded and took another sip of coffee.

  “She has a son,” David told his father. “Is he in school right now?”

  “He’s at the babysitter’s. He doesn’t start back to school until the fall.”

  “Well, if he’s anything like mine, the little guy’ll give you a run for your money.”

  David smothered a smile, amused at his dad’s quick wit but not about to admit it. “A regular comedian you are.”

  His dad smirked. “I like to think so. I get even funnier after a full stomach.” Gordon chewed a mouthful of scrambled eggs, then wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Do you want to hand me the ketchup? My hash browns need a little color.”

  From the other side of the table, the ketchup bottle slid across the table without the aid of anyone’s hand. It stopped when it rested against his dad’s palm.

  Gordon curled his fingers around the plastic container and glared at David. “Nice trick. Just don’t start elevating the table.”

  “I really must let you both go.” Quickly, Skye rose to her feet and took her bill. “I have to get my son. It was nice meeting you Gordon, and David—” She smiled. A devilish expression crossed her features. “Let’s just say it was interesting.”

  Like an idiot, David stared at her retreating back in silence. She’d completely blind-sided him, and he had a good idea that’s exactly what she’d intended.

  “What’s with the antics for God’s sake?” his father asked, his words filled with a distinct bite.

  David turned back around in his seat. “Antics?”

  He leaned over the table and glowered at David. “Are you trying to impress Skye? I would have thought you’d have outgrown your parlor tricks!”

  Tension stiffened the muscles along David’s back and shoulders. “I don’t get what you’re saying?”

  “The ketchup bottle. Moving it across the table like that! Do you have to try to impress every woman who comes around with your little magic moves?” Gordon grabbed the morning paper beside him, opened a section with loud, jerking movements, placed it on the corner of the table and scowled at it.

  “Dad. Will you look at me?” He waited until his dad stared at him from across the table. “I didn’t touch the ketchup.”

  Snorting in obvious disbelief, his dad snatched the bottle and waved it in the air. “We both know it wasn’t me. So if it wasn’t either of us, then who moved the ketchup? Houdini?”

  “Not Houdini.” David caught and held his father’s gaze. “Skye Hunter.”

  Chapter 5

  David stared out the diner’s window as Skye hurried across the street. What the hell type of game was she playing? What was the meaning behind the ketchup? Magic? Or more? If something other than a trick, then that would mean the impossible.

  He gripped the table’s edge. She seemed bent on pushing him. But why?

  His thoughts turned to their encounter at the casino, of her playing roulette, of her strange words regarding luck and the astronomical odds of landing on seven.

  Numbers from the roulette wheel flashed in his mind’s eye. Colors. Red. Black. The spinning wheel. A picture, blurred and shadowy, of another time, of another roulette wheel whispered from his past.

  Frowning, he closed his eyes. The number twenty-two pushed into his consciousness and swirled into focus. Black backdrop with bone colored numbers. Sudden fear peppered his flesh.

  His grip tightening on the edge of the table, he pushed past the fear and focused harder, searching beyond the image of the wheel and the ominous number he’d grown to hate and—

  A vision of a grotesque face blind-sided him. Reptilian eyes peered down at him. Light glared off a bald, green-mottled head. Fingers touching, probing. Then pain. Excruciating in intensity as it lanced into his skull.

  He jerked in his seat, smacking his back against the leather cushion. The same sick image from that damn nightmare. Talons of fear dug a path up his spine, while his stomach clenched into a knot. The restaurant’s air conditioner amplified the sudden chill that scurried across his skin.

  Why the memory after all this time? Fear? He hadn’t seen that face in his nightmares for years. And what did it have to do with Skye?

  David scrambled to his feet. He needed answers from Skye. Shit. She was a walking menace. If she exposed his secret, he’d lose everythi
ng he’d built, his career, his home, his livelihood.

  “Where are you going?” his dad asked, glancing up from his eggs.

  “After her.”

  His dad stopped chewing. “Are you nuts?”

  “Probably.”

  He wagged his fork at David. “I don’t care how beautiful. You don’t go chasing after some woman. She’ll get the cops on you.”

  David grabbed his wallet from his back pocket, pulled out a twenty and tossed it on the table. “Sorry, but I’ve got to find out where she’s going. Thanks for understanding.”

  His father rolled his eyes. “Like I have a choice. You know, it’s a good thing I drove myself, or you’d have left me stranded.” His dad’s disgruntled voice followed him down the aisle.

  David stepped outside and blinked against the glare of the sun. A car door groaned shut. He turned in time to see Skye slip behind the wheel of a beat up, god-awful looking pickup.

  When she pulled out of her space and toward the parking lot’s exit, he ducked across the street and into his silver, far too conspicuous Lexus SC430. He wanted to tail her undetected, knowing he’d get more answers this way than outright questioning her.

  Adrenaline surged through his veins. He guided the sports car into traffic and remained a good two car lengths behind Skye. If she decided to take more than one look in the rearview mirror, she might notice the hardtop convertible. Well...he’d just have to make sure he kept his distance.

  He’d never followed anyone, and after the first few turnoffs, he realized remaining undetected was a hell-of-a-lot harder than what the movies made out.

  Skye’s pickup veered into the left lane, jerked into a sharp left turn and crossed the path of oncoming traffic. She escaped being broadsided by an oncoming car and reached the neighboring street intact.

  Shit!

  David swerved to follow but slammed on his brakes, avoiding a collision from the opposite direction. In the rearview mirror, he saw a car behind him swing to the right. It nearly clipped his bumper before passing. David glimpsed a woman yelling obscenities at him.

  Skye must have spotted him. And here he’d had this idiotic idea that he’d been so careful. Now, he’d never find out her intended destination.