Hidden Identity (Harlequin Intrigue)

by Alice Sharpe

  HE “DIED” TO SAVE THE WOMAN HE LOVED.

  Now her amnesia might save them both...

  Faking his death was the only way for Adam Parish to stay alive. But when a suspicious helicopter crash reunites him with the woman he had to leave behind, Adam knows they’re both in danger. Unfortunately, Chelsea Pierce doesn’t remember who he is—or that she’s carrying his child. On the run from merciless killers, Adam vows to protect Chelsea and their baby. But once he reveals the truth, will he lose the woman he loves a second time?

  “You saved my life.”

  He touched her face. To his relief, she didn’t sweep his hand away and instead covered his fingers with hers. “Don’t cry,” he said softly. “It’s going to be okay. I promise I won’t let anything happen to you. Now, get some sleep, okay?”

  “Maybe tomorrow I’ll wake up with all my memories intact,” she whispered.

  “I hope so,” he said, and once again fought the urge to kiss her. By the time he’d zipped the flap closed again, she’d rolled onto her side, and he switched off the lantern.

  He used the flashlight to make a bed on the ground, curled into the sleeping bag and closed his eyes. If she was determined to leave him, he’d have to let her go, but somehow he’d have to come up with a way to prepare her for the return of her memories. How would Chelsea handle the moment when she realized that Adam was her beloved Steven, and that instead of dead and gone, he was very much alive and on the run?

  HIDDEN IDENTITY

  Alice Sharpe

  Alice Sharpe met her husband-to-be on a cold, foggy beach in Northern California. Their union has survived the rearing of two children, a handful of earthquakes, numerous cats and a few special dogs, the latest of which is a yellow Lab named Annie Rose. Alice and her husband now live in a small rural town in Oregon, where she devotes the majority of her time to pursuing her second love, writing. You can write to her c/o Harlequin Books, 195 Broadway, 24th Floor, New York, NY 10007. An SASE for reply is appreciated.

  Books by Alice Sharpe

  Harlequin Intrigue

  Hidden Identity

  The Brothers of Hastings Ridge Ranch

  Cowboy Incognito

  Cowboy Undercover

  Cowboy Secrets

  Cowboy Cavalry

  The Rescuers

  Shattered

  Stranded

  The Legacy

  Undercover Memories

  Montana Refuge

  Soldier’s Redemption

  Open Sky Ranch

  Westin’s Wyoming

  Westin’s Legacy

  Westin Family Ties

  Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com.

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  CAST OF CHARACTERS

  Adam Parish—When the witness protection plan fails him, Adam’s forced to implement a drastic plan of escape. He knows leaving his fiancée behind will break her heart, but at least she’ll be safe—or so he thinks. Too late, he finds out she makes perfect bait. Now it’s up to him to keep her and her precious cargo alive.

  Chelsea Pierce—Grief-stricken, she seeks to put the past behind her. She’s close to accomplishing this when her world comes crashing down. Will she recover in time to realize that fate has handed her a second, dazzling chance?

  Devin Holton—It appears even a prison cell can’t contain this man’s lust for revenge or his ability to hire as many killers as it takes to accomplish his goal.

  Whip Haskins—Adam’s longtime mentor and friend sworn to help Adam stay alive.

  Ron Ballard—This US marshal has the connections to carry out elaborate assassin schemes. Is he on Holton’s payroll?

  Aimee Holton—What is Devin Holton’s selfish wife up to and what will she and her minions do to protect themselves?

  Tom Nolan—Aimee’s new lover and partner. How deep does his collusion go?

  This book is dedicated, with love, to Annabelle Marie Zi-Ling Yu.

  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

  Epilogue

  Excerpt from The Girl Who Couldn't Forget by Cassie Miles

  Chapter One

  It squatted on the tarmac like a bloated dragonfly, a little bigger and a lot older than she’d expected. Painted a drab green with half a dozen random splashes of other colors, it had obviously been in service for decades.

  Chelsea had never flown in a helicopter before. She would have thought the stress of the past few weeks might have left her too worn-out for nerves, but nope, turned out that wasn’t the case. She held the bouquet of roses closer to her body and approached a man she took to be the pilot, who, wrench in hand, was peering into the open engine compartment. Was that a bad omen?

  He looked up at the sound of her footsteps and broke into a welcoming grin. “You must be Ms. Pierce,” he said as he closed the cover and secured it.

  “Chelsea, please. And you’re Mr. Black?”

  “Heck, call me Bobby. Everyone does except my ex-wife and you don’t want to know the words she uses.” He tucked the wrench into his pocket, stuck out his hand, apparently noticed all the grease smudges and plucked a rag from his belt instead. Tall and rangy with a touch of gray in his hair, it was impossible not to hear the lingering drawl of Texas in his voice. Chelsea opened her purse and withdrew the requested money order, made out for the amount he’d specified. It was a lot of money for her, and now, as she peered over his shoulder at the aging chopper, she second-guessed her decision to hire him.

  Really, would that thing fly? Was it safe?

  He apparently sensed her hesitation. “Don’t underestimate old Gertie,” he said, patting the drab metal. “She’s been around, sure—heck, so have I—but we’re both fit as a fiddle. I have our route mapped out. I’ll get close enough to drop those roses.” His gaze darted from the flowers to the money order.

  For a second, she contemplated walking away but her peace of mind was at stake and that was no small matter.

  Chelsea had found this guy on the internet—he was the only one she could afford—and had spoken to him on the phone. She’d outlined her plan and been assured it was a piece of easy-peasy pie. Then she’d asked her sister, Lindy, to run the food truck for a few days and driven from San Francisco toward Nevada, spent the night in a motel where the cockroaches were bigger than her shoes, counted out fifty dollars for flowers and allowed her heart to embrace the possibility of closure.

  And now she was going to give up because the helicopter looked a little...tired?

  Steven’s face floated through her mind. Gray eyes that ranged in shade from hazy morning dawn to early evening twilight, lips that caused her heart to flutter, a killer body topped off by a soul as deep as the sea. With him, she’d embraced the concept of forever. And now he was gone.

  How did a relationship that lasted only a few weeks produce such profound fallout including so many unanswered questi
ons? Police found evidence of a struggle and gunshots in his empty house but no victims. She’d been frantic at first, then informed by various “officials” that Steven had driven to a small out-of-town airport, retrieved his plane and flown away.

  Flown away? He had a plane? Where did he go? And why didn’t he take her with him?

  One of the officials, a fifty-year-old guy named Ballard, managed to insinuate Steven was not who he said he was and she was better off without him. She’d already guessed the first part, and she adamantly denied the latter, then told him to get out and not come back.

  But where did Steven get an airplane? Why had he never mentioned it or that he was a pilot?

  Authorities then located the downed aircraft in the extreme depths of a glacial lake located in a designated wilderness area in the Sierra Nevada mountains. Ballard had shown up again, this time with a smirk on his face. He’d casually informed her that due to a host of reasons, from EPA regulations down to cost effectiveness, the plane was unsalvageable. Gear from the crash had floated to the surface, but Steven’s body remained underwater, probably strapped into his seat from now until time’s end.

  There was no turning back, not for Steven, and not for her, either. She extended the money order to the pilot.

  Bobby’s smudged hand reached for it as a taxi pulled up. It stopped with a squeal of brakes and the passenger door flew open. A man hit the ground running.

  “I caught you, thank God,” he said as he ground to a stop in front of the pilot. He didn’t spare Chelsea so much as a glance. “I need to rent that helicopter,” he added. “I need to get to my house outside of Elko, Nevada. There’s a private airstrip there you can use. I’ll pay whatever you want. Just hurry.”

  Greed stole into Bobby’s eyes. He licked his lips as he glanced at Chelsea and for a second she was sure he was about to send her packing. The panic of that possibility cemented the importance she’d placed on this sojourn and any lingering doubts fled. If Bobby thought he could ditch her for Mr. Money Pockets, he was in for a fight.

  Before she could plead her case, Bobby turned back to the newcomer and sighed. “Sorry,” he said with obvious regret. “I’m already booked. This little lady here, well, me and Gertie are all hers for as long as she needs.”

  The newcomer turned the force of his attention to Chelsea. Standing face-to-face with her, he appeared younger than she’d originally thought, closer to forty than fifty. His suit looked expensive, as did the gold ring on his left hand. “How much?” he said.

  “How much what?”

  “For you to walk away.”

  “I’m sorry,” she began, “but—”

  “How about twice what’s on that check you’re holding?” he said, his dark eyes intense.

  “It’s not about money.”

  “What then? Can’t you see I’m desperate?”

  She could see that. However, so was she.

  He took a deep, shaky breath. “Listen, miss. I know this is abrupt but I can explain. I’m in the middle of a business trip, right? On my way to Los Angeles, or at least I was. Then just as my plane began boarding, I got a call.” He ran a hand through his dark hair. “The bottom line is my wife’s been in an accident. Apparently, it’s—it’s bad. I live in an out-of-the-way burg of a town. It’ll take two flights and a long car drive to get me home and all that takes time. This is my only chance of seeing her, of getting to her in time...”

  The pilot cleared his throat. “You two could share the chopper,” he said. “Miss Pierce’s destination is about halfway to yours. We could combine the flights.”

  “But landing and taking off again takes time,” the man said. “Time I may not have—”

  Chelsea interrupted. “I don’t need to land. All I need is for the helicopter to fly low and hover for a minute or two while I...well, I need those few minutes and a little silence. After that, I don’t care where I go as long as I end up back here. As far as I’m concerned you’re welcome to share the flight.”

  She had at first read the guy’s demeanor as dismissive or even arrogant, but now that she understood what was behind his impatience her heart went out to him. Who better than she knew the ache of losing someone you love? Maybe this guy still had time to say goodbye. Tears burned behind her nose.

  “You’d be willing to do that?” the man asked.

  “Yes.”

  He took a steadying breath. “Thank you.” He glanced at the money order still clutched in her hand. “You keep that. This is on me.”

  “I couldn’t let you—”

  “Please.”

  “You two choke me up, you really do,” Bobby said with a new grin that made the first one look anemic by comparison. “You both have some papers to sign while I refile the flight plan and then we’ll be off. But I have to warn you Mr.—”

  “Smith. My name is Jacob Smith.”

  “I’m going to have to refuel at your destination before we fly back here. You’ll have to pay for the extra time and miles—”

  “Just tell me how much,” Smith said, waving away his waiting taxi. “And hurry.”

  Chelsea was happy to let the two men work out the details as she did her best not to shiver in the weak spring sun. Eventually everything was settled and she was ushered into the helicopter and directed to sit in the second row of seats, closest to the door. The space behind her was piled with duffel bags and taped-up boxes of every size.

  Under the pilot’s direction she strapped herself in her seat and set aside the roses. As Jacob Smith stood outside talking on his cell phone, Bobby gave her instructions about what to do when the time came to throw the flowers, then closed the cargo door and ran around the aircraft to climb aboard. She expected Smith would claim the seat next to hers, but he slipped into the front with the pilot. Given his anxiety, it made sense to her that he would want to sit as far forward as possible. She was grateful for the semiprivacy of their turned heads.

  Once the switches were thrown and the blades started revolving, conversation was out of the question, although Bobby had pointed out the headset they could use to communicate once she put it on. Frankly, right then she didn’t want to talk to anyone. In her mind she reviewed the directions she’d given him, taken from Steven himself when she asked him to tell her about the happiest day of his life.

  He’d responded, “Today. Here with you. Now.”

  There’d been a long pause as she lost herself in his kisses. Eventually she’d rephrased the question. “Okay then, the happiest day before we met?”

  He didn’t miss a beat. “That’s easy. There’s this little cabin not that far from here,” he’d said, and then proceeded to describe a mountain getaway in such detail she could not only see it in her head, but was also pretty sure she could find it on a map. “It was one of the last places I visited with my parents. I’ll never forget it.”

  Once she’d finally accepted his death and the repercussions that would live with her forever, the need to somehow bring peace to her life became imperative. She’d thought of visiting the lake where his plane was entombed in water. But then she’d remembered this cabin and chosen past joy over current pain.

  The helicopter rose off the ground and her stomach lurched. Ninety minutes. She retrieved the bouquet of roses, glanced at the gold foil handwritten note she’d attached to the stems and clutched them to her chest. Their perfume bathed her face as she closed her eyes.

  * * *

  SOMEHOW, DESPITE THE loud and constant whirring of the blades, she managed to fall asleep, but awakened with a start. Gazing out the window, she saw little but tree-covered mountains in every direction. Where were they? She put on the headset. She could see the tops of both men’s heads but there was no conversation going on between them.

  “Are we getting close?” she asked.

  Bobby threw her a thumbs-up. His voice crackled through the headset. “We’re almost
there. Look down. See the river?”

  This time when she gazed out the window she glimpsed the unmistakable glitter of water winding its way through the trees.

  Bobby’s voice came through the comm system again. “Remember to wait until I tell you to open the window. I’ll get down close, but first I’ll circle the area so you can check it out.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “I told you not to do that,” Jacob Smith interjected.

  “We’ve been over this already,” Bobby snapped. “Like I said, this part of the flight is Chelsea’s.”

  “You will go nowhere near that house, is that clear?”

  “Why not?” Chelsea asked.

  “It’ll...waste time,” Smith said, his voice tight.

  “No, it won’t,” Bobby insisted.

  “It’s okay, do as he says,” Chelsea told Bobby. She was looking for peace and closure, not arguments. “I’m fine.”

  Smith’s grunt sounded smug. Or maybe just relieved. But the tension between the two men was palpable. What had gone on while she slept?

  Within a few minutes, the trees began to thin and a small meadow appeared, just as Steven had described, right down to the wildflowers carpeting the ground and the old rock wall bordering three sides. She sat forward as a small cabin came into focus. Bobby headed straight for it despite Smith’s continued insistence that he stop. She tried to ignore their bickering. A curl of smoke drifted upward from the chimney and that surprised her for some reason. Silly that it should—Steven hadn’t been here in years and hadn’t known who owned it now or even if it was still here.

  Broad stone decks surrounded the small residence while budding tree limbs brushed the roof. She could all but feel Steven sitting beside her, eagerly looking out the window, pointing out details, his breath warm against her cheek. Her hand pressed against the glass as her gaze swept over the meadow they once again circled. The river where Steven had caught his first rainbow trout glistened nearby.