Compromised Identity

by Jodie Bailey

  “I don’t know. That’s what’s bugging me. I’ve seen him, but my mind won’t place him. I’ve run through everywhere I’ve been for the past week and can’t picture him in any of those places.”

  “Describe him. Tell me everything about when you spotted him inside, anything you remember about him, no matter how insignificant. His appearance, what he was doing, everything.” Before Sean took one more step, he needed to know what he was up against. Even though he’d had a brief glimpse of the suspect, he wanted to hear her details, see if having her talk would trigger another memory.

  “Not very tall. My height maybe. Light brown hair. Tanned skin. He looked like...” She pulled in a gasp, reaching for Sean, eyes widening with something close to excitement. “He’s on the cell phone.”

  “What?”

  “His photo was in Channing’s email. That’s why he seemed familiar. I’m sure of it. It’s one of the first emails, one of the oldest.” She grabbed his wrist, animated once again. “If you can let me see the backup you made of that phone before they deleted the emails, I’ll recognize him.”

  She’d recognize the man, but would it do them any good? Each attack came closer to stealing Jessica and, if the pattern continued, when it happened again, he might not be able to reach her in time.

  FIVE

  “Something else is going on here.” Sean dragged a hand down his face and glanced at the clock in his rental car as he sat in Jessica’s driveway talking to his team leader. It was just past six in the evening, and he was already flagging. If he didn’t get sleep soon, there was no telling how much longer he’d be able to run on fumes. It hadn’t been that long ago when he could make it through a forty-eight-hour stretch without batting an eye, but those days were gone after the events of last spring made him feel a whole lot older than his thirty years and made sleep harder to come by.

  He grimaced. Stupid nightmares were not going to keep him from what he wanted out of life. He’d beat them the same way he’d beaten every other challenge. With stubborn willpower.

  Willpower that wasn’t keeping his emotions out of this thing with Jessica Dylan. She was getting into his head already, and that was definitely not something he was used to. Needing some time to adjust to her presence, he’d cleared the house and let her go in for some time to herself while he made the call to headquarters.

  “Tell me what you’ve got.” A clatter punctuated Captain Ethan Kincaid’s words. He was either on speaker or headphones. Likely headphones. The man never stopped moving even to have a conversation.

  “The guy who came after her yesterday... He was more intent on silencing her than saving his hide.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “I know the look.” A loud bang cracked on the line, and Sean grimaced, pulling the phone away from his ear. “What are you doing?”

  The silence grew long and loud before Ethan finally cleared his throat. “Dishes.”

  Sean coughed to cover a laugh, then gave up and let the grin sound in his voice. “The one-man destroyer of terror cells is doing dishes?”

  “Knock it off, Turner.” Even Ethan sounded amused. “That terror cell wouldn’t have come down without you and Ashley. And you deserve more of the credit than the rest of us.”

  Sean frowned. Last year at this time, he’d been in Afghanistan, gathering intelligence on a terror cell led by an American contractor, Sam Mina. Things had gone south quickly in the spring, and Sean’s best friend, Ashley Colson, ended up in the crosshairs because of his decision to pull her into the mission. It was a choice that nearly got them both killed.

  “I know what you’re thinking. Stop beating yourself up.” All amusement vanished from Ethan’s voice. “Mina’s in jail. The cell he led has fallen apart. You’re safe. And believe me, Ashley is more than fine.” Ethan should know. He’d married her two months ago.

  Sean cleared his throat, shoving the conversation aside. He didn’t want to talk about the past. All he had was the future, and even it was on a shaky foundation. “Ashley’s more than fine because she talked you into doing housework. Tell me again why you’re doing the dishes, Kincaid?”

  For a minute, it seemed Ethan wasn’t going to take the bait, but he finally spoke. “She’s all spun up because my parents will be here for Thanksgiving, and she spent the entire day making pies. Oh, and that was after she ferreted out a hacker in Turkey. You know. Typical Ashley day.”

  There was nothing typical about Ethan’s wife. Sean could testify to that. He had known her his whole life. Sean might count himself a master at data encryption, but when it came to everything else about computers, Ashley Colson Kincaid beat him without even having to fight.

  “Speaking of her hacker tracking ability, I need her to remote in to Staff Sergeant Dylan’s desktop computer. If she saw Channing downloading data, I want to know what it was. If Ashley and I sift through it together, we have a better chance of finding something.”

  “Done. Just be careful not to tip your hand to the mission. If we’re right and this is a terror cell, we don’t know who’s involved. Get with Ashley and set up a time. Think you need me to put a team together for you and send them out there?”

  For a half second, Sean considered the offer, but he rejected it. Having only recently been cleared for full duty after his injuries, he hadn’t had a chance to vet and put together his own team. “After what your partner did, I’m not sure I trust anyone I haven’t personally selected, and you’re wrapped up in your own mission.”

  “Mitch was one guy.”

  “One guy who nearly managed to tear down the entire unit.” Their Special Missions Unit was working at skeleton status, rerunning background checks on each member after Craig Mitchum sold out to be Sam Mina’s inside man. Trusted team leaders like Ethan and Sean were spread thin as the unit regrouped, each doing the work of three men.

  “Do me a favor, Sean. Remember you’re down there to see if this thing has legs, not to show you can handle an entire mission all by yourself. Don’t get in too deep trying to prove something.”

  Sean clamped his back teeth together. Ethan Kincaid might be one of the people closest to him, but the man had no idea what it felt like to be helpless, unable to save yourself or the person you loved most in the world. If this mission blew up and Sean succeeded in bringing down another cell, it would prove he could do this job, would finally confirm to himself that he was truly past all that had happened in Afghanistan, that he wasn’t a failure and a danger to the people he cared about.

  “I know you heard me say that.” Ethan was more stubborn than Sean gave him credit for.

  “I heard you. Have any suggestions?”

  Ethan’s exhale was loud in the microphone. “Tate’s out there in the wind, itching for something to do. Do you trust him?”

  Though officially retired from the Army, Tate Walker acted as their jack-of-all-trades, their go-to guy when things went sideways. He’d lost his home and his identity while working to save Ethan and Ashley and now spent his time tucked away, building a new facade of a life. Aside from Ethan himself, Tate was the one guy Sean knew wouldn’t turn on him. “Call him in.” He’d breathe easier knowing someone had his back.

  “Done. Based on his last location, he should be there in a few hours, but keep him close. He’s too valuable to us undercover to let anybody see him out there too much.”

  Sean rolled his shoulder, trying to stretch the knot that persisted there. “I’ve let Specialist Dylan know what’s going on, so she’s clued in to the investigation. She’s shaken up a little, but she refuses to admit it.”

  “You’re certain they were going to kill her?”

  “Positive. They’ve made two overt attempts, and I had a buddy at a local lab test her drink.” Dropping off the sample was why he’d nearly been too late to save her at the Soldier Center. “It was tetramine.”

&n
bsp; Ethan whistled low. “Rat poison out of China? That stuff’s a hundred times worse than cyanide. What made your buddy test for that?”

  “Apparently, it’s making a comeback.” Sean held tight to the bottom of the steering wheel. “These guys aren’t playing. They’ll come after her again. We’ve got to be vigilant.”

  “You’re in front of her house, aren’t you?” Ethan’s voice rang with conviction.

  “Why would you say—”

  “Knowing you, I’d expect no less. Just don’t let the neighbors catch you haunting the driveway.”

  The light turned on in one of the upstairs rooms. Ethan hinted Sean was acting like a stalker, but knowing Jessica was in danger drove him to watch out for her as best as he could. If she died because he let his guard down... Well, that wasn’t an option.

  He let his fingers knead the muscles in his neck as he surveyed the front of her house again. The two-story just a few blocks from the Cumberland River boasted a turret and a wide covered wraparound porch with enough rockers to seat an entire team of soldiers, but what Sean really needed was a clear view of the privacy-fenced backyard. “I’ll keep an eye on Staff Sergeant Dylan while you guys see if you can find anything about our attackers. One is in those emails I forwarded to Ashley. I’ll tag which one.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” Ethan was back to his all-business self. “Keep me posted.”

  “Make sure you don’t get dishpan hands.” Sean killed the call without waiting for Ethan to respond.

  He tossed the phone onto the passenger seat and frowned at the silence, staring at the radio. He’d promised Jessica half an hour before he invaded the privacy of her home, and he had fifteen minutes of that time left. It would be nice if he could turn on music and fill the cavernous silence of the small vehicle with noise. Then he could keep back the memories that liked to creep up in the silence, but the radio would only mask any outside sounds he needed to hear.

  No. He’d have to sit here in the quiet and try not to think.

  Headlights turned from one of the side streets and headed slowly toward him. Sean slid lower, trying to make himself as small as possible, though, from his angle in the driveway and with the darkness settled in, it would be hard for anyone to see him. No need to get excited yet. This time of day it was likely a soldier coming home from duty or a nine-to-fiver headed home from work.

  As the car came closer, it slowed in front of Jessica’s house as though the driver was searching for something. The vehicle crept past the house, then hung a U-turn, passing the house slowly again before it sped off down the street.

  Sean sat taller and tapped his thumb against his thigh. It could be nothing, but he couldn’t shake the feeling he wasn’t the only one keeping an eye on Jessica Dylan.

  * * *

  Jessica shut her bedroom door slowly to keep from slamming it hard enough to crack the frame. The day had been too much like a bad action movie. She was hungry, tired...

  And scared. Her fingertips pressed into the wood of the door. Everything had been just fine until she’d climbed into her car and Sean had shut the door for her, then turned and walked to his own car to follow her home. No matter how hard she’d tried, she couldn’t stop staring into the rearview, waiting for a head to pop up.

  And she was furious. At some point on the drive home, the shock of the day’s events had worn off and the anger had kicked in. Who was this Sean Turner to think she was a damsel in distress in need of his protection anyway? The fear might be real, but in every single situation she’d been in, no matter how frightening, she could have saved herself. She owned a gun. She’d been taught to defend herself the same as he had. She’d been in combat. The last thing she needed was a knight in shining armor to come to her rescue. She might be a female, but she was also a soldier, and she was going to go downstairs and tell him exactly that. He couldn’t control her life, and she didn’t need one more male judging her every action. Changing into jeans and her University of Tennessee sweatshirt, Jessica pulled herself together to go into battle.

  She focused on the fact he’d called her pastor behind her back and canceled her Bible study dinner. This arrogance of his was going to be the end of him. Or of her.

  Aside from needing the company of her friends, she needed the outlet that preparing dinner would give her. The precise measurement of ingredients, an end result she could control. It was the only order to be found in this new chaos.

  And Sean Turner had taken it away from her.

  She stalked down the stairs and found him coming in the side door. “It’s one thing to interfere with my job. It’s a whole other thing to stick your jump-booted toe into my personal life.” The man had done nothing but turn her life six degrees from sideways. There was no telling why she bothered to let him into her house other than her Southern grandmother’s teaching.

  He choked, probably swallowing a laugh at her ire. Whatever. He could think what he wanted. Unless he thought she somehow needed him. In spite of his superhero tactics, she didn’t need his help. “No jump boots tonight, but they’re in my car if that makes it easier for you to view me as the Grinch who stole your social life.”

  No, he wasn’t wearing jump boots tonight. The jeans and lightweight black sweater he wore did a whole lot more for his looks than the drab Army combat uniform had.

  Had her mind really gone there? She’d groan out loud if the man wasn’t standing in her entryway waiting for her to indicate where he should step next. So much for her grandmother’s hospitality. “Tell me again why you feel the need to be here?” Yep. Granny Josephine was rolling in her grave.

  “After all that’s happened today, my chain of command thought it was best if you weren’t alone.”

  Jessica refused to let him see her shudder, to let him see how much that man in her vehicle had affected her. In spite of her ire, she had to admit if Sean wasn’t here, she’d curl into a ball and have a good hysterical cry. If Sean hadn’t been stalk-protecting her, she’d likely be on a slab with her throat slashed. Her fingers went to her neck instinctively, feeling for blood.

  Sean stepped closer and wrapped his thumb and index finger lightly around her wrist, pulling her hand from her neck. His voice lowered to a depth she’d not heard in the time she’d been forced into his presence. “You’re safe, and I’m going to make sure you stay that way if you’ll let me.”

  For the slightest second, Jessica wanted to lean forward and lay her head on that strong shoulder, let somebody else bear the load. She took a step closer, shrinking the space between them until she could feel the warmth he radiated.

  For a moment, he hesitated, then slipped his arm around her and pulled her closer, the embrace comforting.

  She sank into it, feeling a comfort she couldn’t describe, a small thrill running through her.

  But then she stiffened and pulled away, straightening her shoulders. She was a soldier same as he was, and there was no way she was going to let him think he was stronger, not even for one millisecond. It would only give him a reason to rain condescension on her.

  Still, as much as she hated to acknowledge it, having him around took the edge off her fear. It was good to know there was someone else around, someone who could see what she couldn’t. He was growing on her.

  And that irked her more than anything else.

  She stalked across the hardwood entry toward the kitchen at the back of the house, shaking and refusing to admit why. “So I guess that means I’m stuck with you until my roommate gets home?”

  His footsteps echoed close behind. “You’ve got a nice place here. As for your Bible study, I didn’t think it would be wise to have half a dozen young women here as sitting ducks. You want to take the risk of one of them being taken hostage while they walk to their car?”

  His words trailed off so slowly, Jessica turned to see if he was still behind her. He was, though t
he look in his eye said he’d left the room for somewhere else altogether. Figured. He’d charged into her life, ripped it apart and now probably couldn’t stop thinking about last night’s football scores.

  Still, what he said made sense. Sadly, there was a lot she could say right now, but unfortunately it all started with You’re right.

  She snatched three of the packages of chicken breasts from the refrigerator and tossed them into the freezer before retrieving the smallest package and throwing it onto the counter with a sickening thud. She pulled out a tomato to dice. Sooner or later, she’d have to admit her ire was more at the situation than at Sean Turner.

  For now, it felt too good to have a punching bag.

  She ran her knife through the tomato, trying to put mismatched pieces of events together. They had no idea why that soldier’s picture had been on Channing’s phone. No idea how he’d recognized her. And no idea why he thought her presence was worthy of a violent, lonely death in the parking lot of the Soldier Center.

  Jessica swallowed hard, needing to know her throat was still in one piece. Sean was right, even if she’d never stoop so low as to tell him so. She cleared her throat. “So, you’re going to invite yourself to my house for how long?”

  He didn’t answer, just relaxed against the counter on the other side of the sink and planted his hands on the granite. “You know you’re basically cooking dinner for one tonight, unless your roommate’s going to be here. Why are you still hacking at those tomatoes like I’m going to change my mind and issue everybody in your Bible study engraved invitations to come anyway?”

  “You’re here. You’re planning on staying for some undetermined amount of time. You might as well eat.” Not to mention cooking was her safe place. The actions of slicing and sautéing took her back to long evenings in the kitchen, girl talking with her mother as they made prime rib or homemade lasagna. In the kitchen, Jessica was in control. If a dish fell to pieces, it was her fault, the result of something she alone had done. The outcome lay firmly in her hands.