Secret Past

by Sharee Stover

  Her life is a lie

  She’s not who she thinks she is

  With gunmen at her doorstep, Katie Tribani learns her true identity. She’s been in witness protection since childhood, and now her crime-lord father has found her. As bullets fly, US marshal Daniel Knight whisks her to safety—but not for long. Captured and held prisoner, only Katie can unearth her secret past...if she can survive long enough.

  “You’re in real danger.”

  Daniel speared her with a glance as he continued, “This sounds like a bad movie, but I assure you, those men weren’t actors.”

  “You mean my...father is a killer?”

  “Killing is merciful compared to what his men do.”

  Katie shook her head, wrapping her arms tightly around her torso. I can’t deal with this.

  Daniel reached for her, compassion in his eyes. “The truth—”

  “Truth?” Katie snorted, anger rising above her reasoning. “Tell me, Daniel, was the loss of my mother not enough? Why would you think I could handle news like this right now?” She slammed the dashboard with her fist. “I want off this insanity ride. Take me home now.”

  “I’m sorry. I can’t do that.”

  The endless sight line of fields, cows and highway blurred behind Katie’s frustrated tears, but she refused to allow them to fall. “Then what happens now?”

  “We get to the ranch. Then in the morning, we fly out.”

  “Do I get an opinion?”

  “Not if you want to live.”

  Sharee Stover is a Colorado native transplanted to Nebraska, where she lives with her husband, three children and two dogs. Her mother instilled in her the love of books before Sharee could read, along with the promise “If you can read, you can do anything.” When she’s not writing, she enjoys time with her family, long walks with her obnoxiously lovable German shepherd and crocheting. Find her at shareestover.com or on Twitter, @shareestover.

  Books by Sharee Stover

  Love Inspired Suspense

  Secret Past

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  SECRET PAST

  Sharee Stover

  For nothing is secret, that shall not be made manifest; neither any thing hid, that shall not be known and come abroad.

  —Luke 8:17

  For Jim, my real-life hero, and my children, Tawny, Cody and Andi. My cup runneth over every single day because of you. Thank you for giving me the courage and support to pursue my dreams.

  Also, many thanks to:

  My editor, Emily Rodmell. Thank you for believing in this book and welcoming me into the Love Inspired Suspense family. It’s a dream come true.

  My mentors, Tina Radcliffe, Mary Connealy, Rachel Dylan and Joy Avery Melville. Thank you for always keeping it real, surrounding me with your prayers and encouragement, and for imparting your words of wisdom.

  My writing sisters and critique partners, Connie Queen, Jackie Layton and Rhonda Starnes. Thank you for those endless hours of reading and critiquing.

  Most important, thank You, Jesus, for making me Yours. All glory and honor belong to You.

  Contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  EPILOGUE

  DEAR READER

  EXCERPT FROM MISSION TO PROTECT BY TERRI REED

  ONE

  Uncle Nick is going to kill me.

  Katie traced her mother’s picture in Starling, Nebraska’s Thursday morning edition of the Stars Gazette. Her heart squeezed at the sight of Mama’s healthy precancer smile and the newspaper’s eloquently compiled full-page obituary tribute.

  Outside, car doors slammed. He’s here.

  She should feel guilty for disobeying her uncle’s instructions but how could she? The editor had done a stellar job of emphasizing the town’s appreciation and love for Mama. The photo was a normal part of the memorial.

  The front door burst open, and Uncle Nick stormed in shaking a fisted newspaper. “Katherine Tribani, how dare you defy me this way!”

  And the battle continues. She pushed herself to a sitting position on the couch. Piles of used tissues fluttered to the floor, and she leaned over to pick them up. “I tried to cancel...”

  Her gaze landed on the stranger who trailed her enraged uncle. The tall, muscular man dressed in all black gave a terse nod before closing the door, sending a wave of crisp autumn air to her.

  The early morning sunlight beamed through the picture window, bouncing off her uncle’s bald head. “I told you not to give the Gazette any pictures of your mother.” Nick rushed to the curtains, pulling them closed.

  “I’m sorry.” Not really. “They’d already printed it by the time I got a hold of anyone.” Katie spoke in the calmest voice she could muster, though her ears burned hot with embarrassment at his berating.

  Aware of her disheveled appearance, she stood and combed her fingers through the tangles in her long hair. Grabbing another tissue, she wiped her cheeks. There was nothing she could do about the puffiness of her eyes. Three days of crying had taken their toll.

  “Why couldn’t you obey me, just this once?” Nick’s cowboy boots clomped in rhythm to his ranting, muffled briefly as he circled between the hardwood floors and red throw rug. “—no idea what you’ve done...”

  Her gaze shifted between the stranger and Nick, who still clutched and shook the newspaper in time with his words. He tossed the periodical at her feet.

  Katie studied the visitor who appeared to survey the room from his position against the door. He wore a black dri-fit shirt, cargo pants and military boots accessorized by a gun holstered on his hip. Nick carried, so it wasn’t like she hadn’t seen guns. Most just weren’t as publicly displayed. Quiet and controlled, the man’s demeanor said he was in the armed forces or law enforcement. No visible badge. Why would her uncle bring a cop here? His presence was intimidating, intriguing and vaguely familiar. Had he been at the funeral?

  “Did you even read the tribute?” Katie squatted, smoothing the crumpled newspaper on the glass coffee table. She bit back her smart retort, I’m twenty-five years old and don’t need your permission. Nick’s temper wasn’t something to counter.

  “Of course I read the story and saw the picture. You have no idea what kind of danger you’ve put yourself in.” Nick stomped down the hallway.

  Katie started after him. “Danger? Don’t be silly.” Her uncle’s paranoia wasn’t new, but his frenzy was unnerving.

  The stranger took two long strides, halting her with a touch to the shoulder. He gave a slight shake of his head. “Grab anything you can’t live without.” As if that explained everything.

  She met his gaze. “Who are you?”

  “He’s your new handler. US Marshal Daniel Knight,” Nick interrupted, returning to the living room. “He’ll take you to the safe house.”

  “Marshal? Uncle Nick. Stop.” Katie shook her head, questions
tumbling out of her mouth faster than either man could respond. “New? When did I have an old one? What’s a handler? Why do I need a safe house?”

  A look passed between the men.

  “Uncle Nick, I can’t deal with your craziness today. Take your friend and let me grieve the loss of my mother.” Katie snatched the scattered tissues from the floor and stormed to the kitchen, shoving them into the trash can. Straightening her hoodie over her favorite jeans, she returned to the living room.

  “Katherine, we’re running out of time.” Nick rubbed his forehead. A classic sign of his frustration.

  Katie clamped her mouth shut and folded her arms across her chest, staring at Nick.

  “For the past twenty years, you and your mother have been under witness protection. Your mother’s real name is Evangelina Marino. The wife of Anthony Marino. A convicted crime lord,” Daniel explained.

  Her gaze flitted to the handsome guest. “Stop there. My mother’s name was Maggie. She would never marry someone like that.”

  “Katherine.” Nick’s warning hung in her name.

  Katie blew out a breath. “Fine, I’m listening.” Her uncle was out of his paranoid mind if he thought she was buying this story.

  Nick continued. “Evangelina went into WITSEC after testifying against Marino. He should’ve served a life sentence, but his sleazy attorney is skilled at red tape and games. Marino was recently released. We’d been able to stay under the radar until—” He gestured toward the newspaper.

  Tires squealed outside.

  Daniel rushed to the window, peeking through a corner of the curtains. “They’re here.”

  He kept watch on the mysterious visitors as Nick jumped up, drew Katie into a hug and pulled her toward the kitchen. He pressed something into her hand and whispered against her ear, “Take this. Hide it. No matter what happens, don’t let anyone know you have it.”

  “Uncle Nick. I—”

  He gave a slight nod, and she slipped the item into her jeans pocket.

  “Daniel will explain the rest.” Nick pulled the Glock he always carried from inside his jacket. “Katherine, go with Daniel. Do whatever he says. No arguments.”

  Katie gasped. “But...”

  Nick’s look silenced her. He turned to Daniel. “Go out the kitchen door. Get your vehicle from my house and take her to the ranch. I’ll hold them off and meet you there.”

  Car doors slammed followed by men’s voices.

  “Who’s—” In one swift motion, Daniel threw Katie over his shoulder, blood rushing to her head. Her stomach pressed against his shoulder, whooshing the breath from her chest.

  Daniel took two strides through the kitchen and out of the house. The metal blinds over the windowed door smacked behind them.

  Katie’s inverted position gave her a too-close view of the ground as he carried her out the door and through the pristine backyard.

  Mama’s bright orange-and-yellow chrysanthemums, planted at the edge of the unfenced yard, grazed her outstretched hand.

  A series of pops like muffled fireworks emitted from inside. The little brick house faded from sight.

  She craned her neck. Daniel bolted down the alley, behind Mrs. Pauley’s home, eliminating her view.

  “Put. Me. Down,” Katie huffed.

  Daniel’s rhythmic breathing matched his gait.

  The quiet neighborhood was oblivious to her early-morning madness. Where was nosy Mrs. Pauley when you needed her? Probably not even awake yet.

  She bounced against Daniel’s back with each step until nausea threatened. He whipped around the block, sliding Katie off his shoulder. She held her stomach. They stood at the corner of Wicker and Acacia. Nick’s street.

  Katie swayed in place. Her gaze focused past Daniel’s massive frame. She could run. Mr. Yonker was always home. He’d hear her scream.

  “Don’t even think about it.” Daniel tugged her toward Nick’s house. “Keep up.”

  She wouldn’t defy Nick...again. Please, God, don’t let Daniel be a psychopath.

  The red-brick bungalow was a cookie-cutter replica of her mother’s home. Typical of Starling’s simple architecture.

  An unfamiliar black Suburban with dark-tinted windows was parked in Nick’s driveway. Definitely out of place.

  Daniel aimed a key fob at the vehicle and released his hold on her. “Get in.”

  The engine roared to life as she ran to the passenger side and jumped in. Daniel sped in Reverse out of the driveway and onto the street before Katie could get her seat belt latched.

  “You’re going back for Uncle Nick, right?” She leaned forward, bracing herself against the dashboard.

  Rays of sunshine pierced through the windshield as Daniel turned east onto the county road. He slipped on a pair of slim, high-wrap sunglasses.

  She smacked the dashboard. “Hello, you’re going the wrong way.”

  Daniel didn’t respond.

  “Did you hear me? We have to go back.”

  The engine revved.

  A pinging sounded behind them.

  Katie twisted around. “What was that?”

  “Hang on.” Daniel jerked the wheel.

  Katie slid toward the door. She gripped the seat, righting herself, and caught a glimpse in her side mirror.

  A black sedan pursued. A man leaned out of the passenger side, aiming a gun at them.

  “There’s a man with a gun.” She faced Daniel.

  Her mind raced. Guns were familiar; being shot at was not.

  * * *

  Daniel checked the rearview and side mirrors, swerving as a barrage of bullets showered the vehicle. A moving target was harder to hit. Great in theory, except Nebraska’s topography wasn’t known for its many curves and turns as confirmed by the long stretch of straight road looming ahead.

  “Who’s shooting at us?”

  “Put your foot on the accelerator and steer.” He opened his window, inviting a blast of cool air.

  Katie gripped his arm. “What’re you doing?”

  No time for details. “I need to return fire. Take the wheel and keep us on the road.”

  She released her hold and Daniel prepared for an argument. Instead, Katie inched across the front seat, placing her foot against the accelerator. The vehicle lurched forward.

  “Sorry.”

  “Got it?” Daniel moved his hands from the wheel, giving her reign. He withdrew his Glock from the holster and leaned out the window, firing several rounds at the sedan.

  Two bullets pierced the driver’s side windshield. The vehicle veered to the shoulder then back to the lane, recovering pursuit.

  Daniel ducked as the shooter responded with a staccato procession of gunshots, shattering the Suburban’s back window.

  “Hang on!” Katie warned.

  He twisted around. A massive green tractor with spray booms stretched across the two-lane highway. The monstrosity moved at a sloth’s pace in front of them while a semi sped closer in the oncoming lane.

  Katie swerved to the left, into the oncoming lane around the machinery. She overcalculated and lost traction as they fishtailed on the loose gravel of the shoulder.

  Daniel clung to the doorframe. “Are you crazy? You’re going to kill me before they do.” He flattened his body against the cab as Katie whipped back into her lane, narrowly missing the semi.

  “Then let me shoot and you drive,” she snapped.

  A grin tugged at his lips at the feisty retort, and he shifted to deal with their pursuers.

  “I can’t outrun them.”

  “Just keep it steady.”

  The sedan attempted to mimic Katie’s tractor-passing maneuver, but the driver underestimated the closing speed of the oncoming semi. Just before impact, the driver jerked the car to the left. Daniel anticipated the result, watching with satisfaction as the car dip
ped into the ditch then went airborne, rolling several times before coming to rest on its top.

  He slapped the door. “Let me back in.”

  Katie slowed the vehicle, and they made the exchange.

  “Good job,” he commended, accelerating.

  “Who was that? Why are they trying to kill us?”

  Great, here come the questions. “Anthony Marino’s men.”

  “Daniel, I realize you’re in a bad position, but I need more information.” Katie leaned forward.

  He grimaced.

  Her emerald eyes bored through him. “You said Mama and I have been in witness protection for twenty years?”

  “More than twenty,” Daniel inserted.

  “Okay. Starling’s got a population of fewer than two thousand people. It’s not even on most maps.”

  Daniel checked the rearview mirror, stalling. “The internet’s an intrusive thing.”

  Katie covered her mouth with her hand. “That’s why Uncle Nick demanded Mama’s picture be left out of the Gazette’s tribute. They published the story in print and on their website.”

  He nodded, grateful she’d pieced it together.

  Katie’s shoulders slumped. “I thought he was being eccentric. He hated social media, really anything that involved the internet.”

  “He knew if the picture ever got out on the World Wide Web, Marino would find a way to locate you all. With technology like facial recognition software, it was only a matter of time.”

  “Why didn’t Nick or Mama tell me the truth? I wouldn’t have given the newspaper Mama’s picture if I’d known all of this.”

  Daniel worked his jaw. Funny, isn’t that what he’d told Garrett too? “We argued about that more than once.” He avoided Katie’s penetrating gaze, focusing on the road.

  “I still don’t understand how this has anything to do with me. If Mr. Marino was angry at Mama, he’s too late to do anything about it. She’s already...” Katie’s voice hitched, and she turned, facing the passenger window.

  “We believe Marino’s intention is to kidnap you.”

  “But I don’t know anything. None of this makes sense. Why on earth would the man want me?”