Concealed Identity

by Jessica R. Patch

  Gigi stood and crossed her arms across her chest. “Okay, but I expect the full truth before the night is over. It’s not fair to keep me in the dark, Blair.”

  No, it wasn’t. Not at this point.

  A blue pickup pulled over to the curb and Ronnie Lawson clambered out.

  Blair stood next to Gigi. “Oh, great,” she muttered, then bristled as he strode toward her with determination in his eyes.

  “Well, well, if it isn’t the little fox that stole from my vineyard.” He shoved a wad of chewing tobacco in his cheek and pocketed the canister.

  “I didn’t steal anything. You should have been at the auction today.” Blair backed away as he shuffled forward, turned his head and spat a spray of tobacco juice.

  “Truck broke down on the interstate. I heard it was gonna be a sweet one today.” He glanced at her head and massaged his neck muscles. “What happened to you? Get into a major bidding war?”

  “I wrecked on Farley Pass coming home.” She gave Gigi a sidelong glance and prayed she’d keep her trap shut.

  “At least you’re not dead.”

  Yet. Her nerves hammered.

  Ronnie made another step into Blair’s personal space. “You know what I’m gonna ask.”

  * * *

  Holt had given Blair and Gigi space, but he itched to know what they were discussing. Might be about whether or not to go to the police. Now, out of the corner of his eye, he studied a man with beady eyes and a receding hairline moving in on Blair. He towered over her and she inched back, then scowled. Didn’t appear to be a pleasant conversation. Holt strode toward them. If this guy was messing with her, it’d be for the last time.

  “Blair, everything all right?” Holt asked as he ambled up beside her, glaring at the big guy wearing a worn camouflage shirt and jeans.

  Blair tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Yeah. This is Ronnie Lawson—”

  “Own the sporting goods store outside town. You are?” Ronnie sniffed and spat a gob of tobacco onto the road.

  “Holt Renard. Just moved here from Memphis.”

  Ronnie nodded once. “What brings you to Hope?”

  “Opening a used outdoorsman store.” And he continued to build on the tower of lies. “Chasin’ the dream, man. Chasin’ the dream.” Once it hadn’t been too far of a stretch, before his world flipped upside down. Once he’d wanted to major in forestry and settle down in a town much like this one. With Trina.

  “I hear ya.” Ronnie returned his attention to Blair. “So, can I come by and check out the inventory?”

  Blair placed her hands on her hips. “Sorry you broke down on the interstate this morning, but I haven’t had a chance to comb through everything myself, and you know—”

  “You have a dumb ritual of having to see it all before anyone else. Give me a break.”

  Holt didn’t like this guy. Manhandling her with his words and his stance. He stepped forward, ready to put the deadhead in his place, if for no other reason than talking ugly to a woman.

  “Dumb or not, it’s my thing.”

  Blair gave him an icy stare, and Ronnie chuckled. “All right. No need for daggers. Call me if there’s anything I might want.”

  “You know I will. As always.” Blair waved as he climbed into the pickup. “Ronnie Lawson is the thorn in my side. Greedy old jerk. I like his wife, though.”

  Gigi snickered. “He’s just mad because he lost out on possible sporting goods.”

  Holt wasn’t sure what was going on. The guy seemed too interested in Blair’s purchase, but he might always be like this. Holt needed answers. “So, anyone up for food?”

  “It’s hot out, but I could eat some soup maybe,” Gigi offered. “Blair?”

  She stared at the road and chewed a thumbnail. “I really need to go through the wares from today and inventory it.”

  “You whacked your head, Blair. Take a day to rest,” Holt said, wiping the sweat from his brow. It was too hot to stand around out here talkin’ about stock from the auction—or anything else.

  “Or let me eat some soup and then get to it.” Gigi gave her the stank-eye and Blair heaved a breath.

  “I’ll tell you what,” Holt said, “let’s get a bite to eat and I’ll help you unload the wares and inventory. I know you can’t haul all of that out of the truck alone.” He hoped she’d agree. He needed more time around her and access to snoop.

  “I can handle it and it’s a ritual I like to do—study each piece, and...anyway...” Blair glanced across the street. “But okay to something to eat.”

  So she wasn’t going to let him go near that truckload of stuff. Why? What ritual? His suspicion rose to new heights. He couldn’t drive her truck, and she’d refused to leave it behind. Was there something inside she didn’t want anyone to see? Was that why the SUV had plowed into her?

  They headed down the sidewalk toward the Black-Eyed Pea. Holt pointed at the diner on the corner of the square. “Cool name.”

  “Hunter and Jace Black own the place. Gigi dates Hunter...sometimes.” Blair grinned, groaning when Gigi elbowed her.

  “What about you, Blair? Who do you date?” Could a new boyfriend be into some bad stuff?

  Gigi snorted. “Blair? Date?”

  Holt spied Blair’s cheeks turning pink, but she didn’t offer a defense or retort. Would she still be grieving Mateo Salvador? He’d been nothing short of a monster with loads of money. It’d been over two years since he died. It had to be Blair’s own decision not to date. Holt couldn’t imagine the dudes in this town not beating her door down to ask her out. If this wasn’t an assignment and he was positive she wasn’t involved directly with drugs, Holt would be beating down her door. But this was an assignment. And personally, he was done opening himself up to love.

  “I don’t have time for relationships,” Blair offered, glaring at Gigi, but behind the irritation with her sister lay worry and unease.

  She had every right to be afraid and fret. Holt wanted to reassure her that things would be fine. But could he? He’d failed Trina. Holt had given her false hope every day. He’d believed with all his heart that God would heal her. He would let them be together and make a happy life. And in the end? Hope disappointed. Hope failed.

  The day he laid Trina to rest, he’d also buried his faith.

  They crossed the street and headed down to the storefront where red-and-blue-plaid curtains lined the lower half of picture windows. A large wooden sign hung overhead with black branded lettering: The Black-Eyed Pea. Home cooking, deep-fried deliciousness and the briny scent of seafood clung to the sticky air.

  Hopefully, during their meal, Holt would be able to extract more information from Blair and Gigi.

  Time was running out.

  An hour later, Holt hadn’t learned much more than the fact that Jace Black made a mean po’boy, could fix Blair’s truck if she needed him to and might be into her—which flared a green streak in Holt that irritated and surprised him.

  Blair had kept relatively low-key except to admit she stank at cooking. Now on his way to drop the sisters off at home, Holt turned down their country road. Only a few houses sprinkled in the area. A dark pickup truck whizzed by, kicking up dust.

  A love song played on the radio. He itched to switch stations. The last thing he needed was a ballad about lasting love. He pulled into Blair’s gravel driveway and cut the engine.

  Gigi’s phone rang. “Thanks, Holt.” She answered the call and climbed out of the truck, then sat on the porch steps.

  Blair exited the vehicle and Holt dogged her, stopping her before she reached Gigi. “If you need anything at all, I’m only across the street. Or better yet, take my number and call or text.”

  Blair huffed but traded numbers. “We’ll be fine.”

  Holt wasn’t so sure. “It’s not every day s
omeone gets run off the road and shot at. I’m not an idiot, and I haven’t pushed, but it’s obvious you’re in trouble. And I want to help.”

  Blair fidgeted with her cell phone. “I don’t even know you.”

  “Fair enough, but I’m not the one running you down with a gun. The fact that you’re not going to the police tells me you’re into some bad stuff—”

  “I’m not a criminal!” Blair’s words carried conviction and pain.

  He couldn’t help softening. “I didn’t say you were, Blair.” And maybe she wasn’t. He was struggling to imagine she was. “But good people have bad things happen to them.” He’d been a witness to that.

  She touched his arm as if she’d known and felt his own pain. “Thank you,” she murmured. “For taking care of us and giving us a ride, but please don’t let what happened get around town.”

  Holt would never say a word. Not only because he was undercover, but clearly Blair Sullivan didn’t like the fact that she’d been associated with Mateo Salvador and his criminal activity. And Holt wanted her trust. “I promise you, I won’t say a word to anyone. I don’t promise to stay out of it. You could have died. Whether I know you or not...” He scuffed his toe along the gravel drive. “I don’t want to see anyone die.” Couldn’t bear it.

  “I don’t, either.”

  “Blair,” Gigi called. “Did you leave the door open after we got home from the auction?” Gigi stood with her keys in hand, staring at the front door.

  Blair frowned and marched toward the house. Holt followed. “No. We didn’t go inside and I know I wouldn’t have left it open.”

  Holt nudged both women behind him and studied the cracked-open door. “Did ya’ll notice that truck that flew by a minute ago? Either of you recognize it?”

  Blair’s hand trembled. “Not really.” She looped her arm in Gigi’s as if trying to hold them both up. Gigi shook her head.

  He handed Blair his truck keys. “Go get in my truck and lock the doors. Anything happens, you drive away. Don’t even hesitate.”

  Blair stared at the keys, lips quivering.

  “Go,” he said with a little more force, and gave her a gentle shove toward the steps.

  When she and Gigi were inside the cab of his truck, Holt drew his gun, toed open the front door, then slipped inside. Not a sound except for the refrigerator humming and the air-conditioning unit working to keep the house cool.

  Nothing seemed out of place.

  He cleared each room downstairs and up. Everything appeared to be in order, but his gut screamed someone had been in here. And the culprit might have been in that pickup. If they’d been five minutes earlier...

  Holt came outside. Blair and Gigi whispered inside the truck. Possibly keeping secrets and discussing information he desperately needed to find their brother and Agent Livingston. Blair opened the truck door.

  “I didn’t see anything out of place, but come in and take a look. See if you notice anything unusual.”

  Blair entered her living room first. “It smells like oil and exhaust.”

  Holt sniffed. “You’re right.” Definitely wasn’t Blair’s signature scent. She smelled like a bouquet of springtime, which irked him that he’d picked up on it...enjoyed the fragrance. He had one purpose in being here, and it wasn’t to admire Blair Sullivan’s flowery scent.

  He walked the house with her and Gigi.

  “I don’t see anything missing.” Blair shivered and rubbed her forearms. “I guess we did leave the door cracked.”

  Holt didn’t believe that, and the way Blair was nervously rubbing her arms said she didn’t, either. Gigi’s narrowed eyes confirmed what Holt was thinking.

  Blair was lying. But why?

  Blair walked to the front door and opened it. “We appreciate you checking out the house. We’re safe now. I’ll call if we need you.”

  Another invitation to leave. The last thing he wanted to do. Someone had broken in and they could come back. Blair and Gigi could get hurt. Worse. But she was kicking him to the curb.

  Shoving down the fight he wanted to give, he nodded and stepped onto the porch. At least he was across the street. “Please call me, Blair. For anything.”

  “I will.” Her eyes were wide with fright but she closed the door, leaving a barrier between them. No matter, he’d just go home and set up his surveillance equipment and play professional Peeping Tom. He wasn’t about to let anything happen to her.

  TWO

  Blair leaned against the kitchen door, knees quaking, throat tight. Someone had been in her home. Her sanctuary. Nothing was out of place. Whoever had been in here had been doing something else. But what?

  Blair rubbed her temples and tried to thwart the headache coming on. Neck muscles coiled, she closed the venetian blinds on her windows, double-checked the locks on the doors and stood in the middle of her living room, staring into nothing. Moments later, she peeked through her blinds.

  All was quiet.

  A movement through Holt’s sheer curtains caught her attention. Was he watching the house—doing as he promised and standing guard? The idea brought a breath of relief, but not enough for her to let down her defenses.

  She tiptoed across her hardwood floor, willing the hairs on her neck to stand down.

  Stopping in front of Gigi’s room, Blair heard the shower run, full throttle. Good, Blair needed a few moments alone to process the events of the day and pray. Then she’d confess the whole horrible and humiliating story. She climbed the steep staircase to her bedroom.

  She opted for a fresh T-shirt and jeans instead of a shower. If she could work up the nerve later, she needed to inventory today’s purchase. She opened her top drawer and froze.

  Inside, lying right on top of her T-shirts, was a white gift box; a red bow had been stuck dead center. She swallowed a lump and hesitated, then took it out. The intruder hadn’t been here to steal something but to deliver a gift—a gift Blair was sure she didn’t want.

  Forcing herself to calm down and clear her mind, she slowly opened it. Shrieking, she dropped the lid on the floor and covered her mouth to keep from getting sick.

  Inside the box lay a dead rat. Underneath, a slip of paper stole her attention. Eeew. She didn’t want to touch the thing. She hurried to the bathroom, grabbed a pair of latex gloves she used for cleaning and psyched herself up to remove the note.

  Don’t be a rat. Go to the police or tell anyone about what happened and people you care about die.

  With trembling hands, she placed the note back in the drawer, then closed the lid on the rat. She found a trash bag under her bathroom sink and used it to dispose of the box and its contents. She hurried downstairs and took it out to the big garbage can, then came back inside. Gigi stood in the living room, arms crossed, wet hair hanging over her shoulders.

  “Time to talk.”

  Blair rubbed her brow. “First of all, let me say that everything I’ve done to keep the truth hidden was to protect you. It was all for your own good.”

  Gigi narrowed her eyes. “I don’t like where this is going. I need to sit down.”

  Blair waited a beat and then balled her fists to her sides as she paced. “The truth is Mateo was a bad man. I didn’t know it at the time, though. Not really. In hindsight, I guess there were some signs, but I ignored them. I was young and in love. But he had dark secrets.”

  Gigi’s eyes widened.

  Blair pushed back tears. “He smuggled drugs for his brother, Hector.”

  “Hector? Mr. Don Juan himself?”

  “Good looks doesn’t mean good person. I learned that the hard way. Hector is ruthless. Evil.” Gigi could easily have been smitten by the man. A shiver ran down Blair’s spine.

  Gigi shook her head, then snapped it up. “Is that why you paid for that year I spent in Europe? To keep me away?”


  Blair nodded.

  “Until you said I could come live with you after Mateo died.”

  “I thought it would finally be safe.” Blair had been wrong.

  “When you found out the truth, why didn’t you leave? Call Dad?”

  Blair smoothed Gigi’s wet hair. “Women don’t leave Salvador men. And Dad might be a marine, but he was no match for a powerful drug cartel. I wanted to, though. Believe me.”

  Gigi hugged Blair. “I’m so sorry. You must have been terrified.”

  “I was,” she whispered.

  “Why didn’t Hector...you know...”

  “Kill me?” Blair massaged her aching neck. “Hector is complicated. He was angry when I told him I didn’t want to live on his ranch and let him take care of me. But when I explained I wanted to move here to where Grandma and Grandpa had lived, he changed his tune. Gave me his blessing and offered me money to start up the business and buy a house.”

  “Did you accept it?”

  Blair frowned. “Hardly. I wanted freedom. Hector’s gifts are like chains. I’d never ask him for anything. It’s not worth the future debt.”

  Gigi laced her fingers with Blair’s. “He didn’t care you changed your name back to Sullivan?”

  “Not after I told him I wanted to move to Hope and start fresh. Stay out of the limelight. Honestly, I believe God gave me favor in Hector’s eyes.” What other reason could there be for Hector extending such grace when he wasn’t a gracious man?

  Gigi rubbed her chin. “You think what happened today had anything to do with Hector? Have you crossed him somehow? Would he think you’ve crossed him?”

  No. Hector wouldn’t have tried to kill her. At least, she didn’t think he would. Unless he thought she’d stolen something from him, but she hadn’t. Confusion’s web spun fast enough to make her dizzy. “I don’t think so. But we can’t go to the police. You see why now.” And after the note and disgusting gift, she didn’t dare.

  “Did Mateo have anything to do with Jeremy’s drug problem?”

  “No. Unfortunately, Jeremy got into all that long before Mateo entered the picture. I hid it even from Jeremy. I had to.”