Secret Identity

by Paula Graves

  “She didn’t have the right to make that choice for me.”

  “And you didn’t have the right to tell her she couldn’t put her life on the line for something she thought was worth doing.”

  Rick narrowed his eyes, wondering how much of his sister’s passionate defense of Amanda’s choice was wrapped up in her own issues regarding her partner’s death. According to Isabel, Scanlon had deliberately left her in the dark about the call he’d received luring him to a warehouse in Virginia that, it turned out, had been rigged to explode.

  Telling her that Scanlon had saved her life by leaving her out of the investigation didn’t seem to appease Isabel’s feelings of betrayal any more than telling him that Amanda was trying to protect him made him feel any better about her decision to go with Damon by herself.

  “Where would he take her?” he asked. “What’s his agenda?”

  “The plan was to use her for bait.” Megan turned to Jesse. “Did Damon tell you anything about his plan?”

  Jesse shook his head. “I thought he’d discuss the details once Amanda decided what she wanted to do, and I didn’t want to spook him by asking too many probing questions.”

  Rick looked at his brother. Since when did Jesse have a problem asking probing questions?

  “I’m not keeping any secrets here,” Jesse said.

  “That’s new,” Rick shot back.

  “Enough, already!” Megan stepped into the space between them. “Why don’t we table the family squabble until we find Amanda and make sure she’s safe?”

  “How are we going to do that?” Shannon asked. “We don’t know where he’d have taken her.” She looked at Rick. “Does she have a cell phone?”

  “I don’t know,” he admitted. “If she does, I don’t have the number. Have any of you looked through her things?”

  “No—we thought we’d wait and see if you knew where she might be,” Shannon answered.

  He moved past them and entered the guest room, stopping inside the door to look around. Closing his eyes, he tried to remember how they’d left the room. They’d slept late, not getting up until Isabel had already left for work. Amanda had taken care to remake the bed that morning after they rose, putting the used sheets in the laundry.

  Her duffel bag was on the floor where she’d left it. He unzipped the canvas bag and looked around the interior. He knew she’d had three weapons—a Walther, a Smith & Wesson and a SIG Sauer. The Smith & Wesson was still there. The other two pistols were gone. So were at least three boxes of ammunition. She was armed, at least.

  Near the bottom of the duffel bag, he found a small slip of paper, wrinkled from where it had been folded into a small square. On the paper was a phone number, written in bold, masculine strokes. Rick pulled his cell phone from his pocket and dialed the number.

  A man’s voice answered. A familiar voice. “Pizza City. Takeout or delivery?”

  Gripping the phone more tightly, Rick swallowed a profanity.

  It was Alexander Quinn.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Where’s Amanda, Quinn?” Rick growled into the phone.

  Quinn’s calm voice answered, “Don’t interfere, Cooper.”

  Anger rose in Rick’s chest. “Is she in danger?”

  “Of course. But she’s trained to handle danger.”

  “She’s with Damon North?”

  Quinn didn’t answer.

  “I know she is. What is he planning to do?”

  “He’s not really using her as bait. He just needs her with him as backup in case things go wrong.”

  Rick couldn’t tell if Quinn was telling the truth or not. A liar that accomplished was hard enough to read face-to-face. Over the phone, Rick didn’t have a chance in hell of seeing through the subterfuge.

  “If something happens to her, Quinn, I will hunt you down and kill you myself.”

  “Or die trying.”

  “If that’s what it takes.”

  The line went dead on Quinn’s end of the call. Rick slapped his phone shut, uttering a low profanity.

  “Who was on the phone?” Jesse’s voice behind him made him jerk with surprise. He turned and found his brother in the open doorway, his arms folded and his eyes watchful.

  “Alexander Quinn. His phone number was in the bottom of her bag. I think she’s been in contact with him.”

  “Did he tell you anything?”

  “Only that Damon North doesn’t actually intend to use her as bait.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I don’t know.” Rick raked his hands through his hair, feeling stymied. “If he’s not using her for bait, what’s he using her for? Quinn says it’s for backup, but I don’t see how that makes any sense at all.”

  Megan stuck her head through the door, pushing Jesse aside. “I just called Aaron—reported an abduction so the sheriff’s department can set up roadblocks. It may not keep them from getting out of the county, but it’ll make it harder. Meanwhile, we can cover the areas where there aren’t any roadblocks.”

  Rick grabbed his sister’s arms and gave her a swift kiss on the forehead. Their cousin Aaron, a deputy sheriff, would understand the urgency, given his family’s experiences with the SSU. “You’re a genius, Meggie. Thanks.”

  “Y’all? I think I may have found something.” Isabel’s voice floated in from the living room.

  Rick, Jesse and Megan returned to the other room and joined their siblings around Isabel’s computer. “What?” Rick asked.

  “This is the back view of the Subaru—from the parking lot camera. What do you see in the back there?” Isabel pointed to a zoomed-in view of the Subaru’s back hatch.

  “That’s a tent,” Wade said.

  “So he’s planning on doing some camping?” Shannon asked.

  “Gossamer Mountain,” Jesse said. “Best camping spot around here, and Damon spent a little time there year before last when he was on the MacLear SSU team sent after Abby and Luke.”

  Rick pulled out his phone again and dialed his cousin’s cell phone. Luke answered on the third ring. “What’s up, Rick?”

  Rick caught him up on the recent events. “We think Damon’s taken her up Gossamer Mountain. You were with him when everything went down before—any idea where he’d go?”

  “There’s a cabin up there—up near the big bluff overlooking the lake—that’s where Abby and I stayed while we were hiding from the SSU.”

  “I know the bluff—there’s a cabin there now?”

  “Yeah. Jake and Gabe helped Dad build a bunch of cabins on our property in the mountains. You should take the two of them with you. They’re the best trackers in the family. Want me to call them?”

  Having his cousins along as guides might be a big help, Rick realized. “Have them meet me at the marina.” Rick said goodbye and turned to the others. “Jake and Gabe are coming with me.”

  “We’ll come, too,” Wade said.

  “No.” Jesse shook his head. “Too many of us, we might spook the people looking for Amanda. We don’t want to stumble into people who have no problem shooting first and asking questions later.”

  Jesse was right. They needed to keep a low profile until they knew more about what was going on. “I may need y’all to back me up if all hell breaks loose,” Rick said.

  “You’ve got us,” Jesse said firmly.

  Rick looked at his brothers and sisters, an unexpected lump forming in his throat. He hadn’t realized just how much he’d missed them while he was roaming the world.

  Or how damned much he needed them now.

  “I’VE TOLD THEM YOU’RE staying in the cabin at the top of this bluff.” Damon kept his voice low, although so far, they’d seen no sign of any other people in the woods that blanketed Gossamer Mountain.

  Amanda peered up the steep slope of the bluff, wondering how on earth she was supposed to get up there in time to help Damon if he needed her. He’d provided her with a small handheld two-way radio—one burst of static would be their signal if he needed
her to move in; two bursts meant his plan had worked and she should make herself scarce.

  And three bursts would mean get the hell out of Dodge and call the cops.

  “You’re not going up that slope,” she stated flatly. “You’ll be a sitting duck.”

  “No, I’ll circle around. I’m going to meet them there and tell them that I’ve just learned the Coopers moved you only hours ago.”

  “You really think that’s going to convince them you’re a valuable man to have on their side?” she muttered. “To me, it sounds more like you’re a big screwup.”

  He shot her a look of annoyance. “I suppose you have a better idea, spygirl?”

  She returned the annoyed look. “Yeah. Putting me in the cabin before they arrived and sending in a CIA paramilitary team to take them out when they came after me.”

  “You know why we can’t involve the CIA in this.”

  She sighed. “You don’t even have a guess who’s pulling the strings at the CIA? It would have to be someone fairly high up.”

  “Yeah, that’s what Quinn thinks. But we don’t have enough evidence to justify siccing a congressional panel on their backsides, so we’re just going to have to do it Quinn’s way. Do you think you can climb the bluff if necessary?”

  She gazed up and assessed her chances. Even with the injury to her arm, she should be able to do it. “Yeah.”

  Damon started walking away, heading to the east, where the land rose at a less steep angle.

  Amanda peered up the slope. Damon was wrong—no way would she be able to reach him in time to be any sort of help to him if she had to start out at the bottom of the slope. She glanced in the direction Damon had gone and saw he’d disappeared from sight, swallowed by the forest’s thick spring growth. She looked back up at the top of the bluff at least twenty feet over her head.

  Muttering a low profanity, she started climbing the steep face of the rocky bluff, finding handholds in embedded boulders and exposed tree roots. She tried to move as quietly as possible, knowing that if the former SSU agents were already above, near the cabin, a wrong move on her part could bring all kinds of hell raining down on her.

  Near the top of the bluff was a shallow ledge that allowed her to stand and take a quick peek over the edge. Easing herself up until her eyes were level with the top of the bluff, she took a quick look around.

  The cabin was larger than she expected, two stories high plus a gabled roof that appeared to house a small attic at the top. She could see only the back of the structure, but by craning her head to her left, she could also see along the side of the house to catch a glimpse of a porch railing at the front of the cabin. It looked like a lovely place for a vacation.

  She hadn’t been on a decent vacation in about a decade.

  “WE APPROACH THE CABIN on three sides,” Rick told his cousins as they gathered at the base of Gossamer Mountain about a mile south of the cabin where Luke and Abby Cooper, with the help of Damon North, had made a stand against a two-pronged attack from both a brutal drug lord and the SSU agents sent to retrieve evidence Abby’s late husband had gathered against them. “Keep a lookout for the SSU agents—there may be more of them than last time, if our experience in Tennessee is anything to go by.”

  “Aaron’s ready to send a dozen deputies for backup,” Jake said.

  “Kristen, too,” Gabe added. His sister-in-law Kristen was a Gossamer Ridge police officer. “She’s on our speed dial.”

  “Right now, I’m most interested in getting to Amanda and getting her out of the line of fire,” Rick said. “Dealing with the SSU is secondary.”

  “Jake and I discussed the best approaches,” Gabe said. “I’m going to go up the back way, climbing the bluff.”

  “He’s the better climber,” Jake agreed. “I’ll come up from the east, and you come from the west. The north approach is too open—the woods there are thinner, since it was cleared out for the access road.”

  “Okay.”

  “You remember how to get there?” Gabe asked with a wry grin. “You’ve been out of Chickasaw County a long time.”

  “I used to out-track both of your sorry butts when we were kids,” Rick shot back with a grin. “You should worry about me showing the two of you up with my hiking skills.”

  “Okay, phones on low vibrate. Put ’em somewhere you can feel the buzz.” Jake waggled his phone and shoved it inside the breast pocket of his camouflage T-shirt. “You got us on speed dial, right?”

  “Yep.” Rick shoved the phone in his own T-shirt pocket. “I owe you guys.”

  “Don’t talk about debts until we get your girl out of this mess alive,” Gabe said seriously. “I know you’re worried, but from what Luke tells us about Damon, he’s not going to betray her. If he can keep her safe, he will.”

  Rick wanted to believe Gabe was right. But he wasn’t sure it mattered—even if Damon wanted to keep Amanda safe, there was no way to guarantee he could.

  He parted company with his cousins, heading around to approach the cabin from the west. The climb was a gentle slope made a little more difficult by the tangled underbrush that lay like an impenetrable obstacle course across the forest floor. He’d been hiking for what felt like an hour—but turned out to be only ten minutes—when his phone vibrated against his chest.

  Hunkering down, he checked the text message from Jake. 3 men in camo. Big guns. Heading W toward target. Lying low. Chk email.

  Rick checked his email and found that Jake had emailed a picture taken by the cell phone. His breath caught as he saw how close his cousin must have been to one of the men.

  Then his breath hitched again when he recognized the man in the photo as Salvatore Beckett.

  He looked around slowly, suddenly feeling like a sitting duck. He saw no movement, but that didn’t mean there weren’t SSU agents all around him.

  He edged closer to the nearest tree and rose, scanning the woods again. No sign of movement. No sounds. Nothing.

  He began creeping forward again, one hand settling on the butt of his Walther. The top of the cabin was just visible through the trees about a hundred yards ahead.

  Almost there, he thought, pushing forward through the underbrush.

  He just hoped it wouldn’t be too late.

  AMANDA CROUCHED DOWN on the ledge and tucked herself out of sight while she waited for Damon to send her a signal, checking her watch every few minutes to keep from going crazy with the waiting. Around the fifteen-minute mark, she heard a noise.

  Coming from below her.

  Carefully, she peered over the edge of the narrow ledge where she crouched. About fifteen feet below her, a dark-haired man she didn’t recognize was climbing the wall of the bluff at a surprising rate of speed. He looked to be in his early thirties, well-built and muscular. And he was dressed head to toe in woodsy camouflage, blending into his surroundings.

  MacLear SSU, she thought, panic rising in her chest. She tried to focus the sudden kick of adrenaline pumping through her, knowing how easily a person’s brain could disengage when danger started closing in. Fight or flight—either were good instincts, but which was best?

  If she stood her ground and fought, she had a couple of advantages. She was already on a relatively stable perch, her hands free to fire at the man climbing rapidly up the bluff. And she knew he was coming, but so far he’d shown no sign of knowing she was there, focused as he was on where to place his hands and feet. But gunfire would alert anyone lurking nearby that she was there. And she couldn’t fire on a man who wasn’t about to shoot her first, could she? What if he were nothing more than a recreational climber?

  She heard the sound of loose rocks clattering against the stony face of the bluff and dared a quick look down at the climber. He was pressed against the side of the bluff, waiting out a small avalanche of loose rocks cascading downward, pelting him with light blows.

  Suddenly, he looked up. He locked gazes with Amanda, his eyes widening with surprise.

  She sprang into action, scrambling
over the edge of the bluff and rolling to her feet on the grassy back lawn of the cabin. She darted a quick look around to check for signs of any other intruders before dashing to the back door of the cabin.

  It was locked, but there was no dead bolt. The lock could be breached easily, and then she could find something to block the door to keep intruders out.

  Darting quick looks back and forth between the door and the edge of the bluff, she pulled out her utility knife, found a thin blade and made quick work of the flimsy lock. She slipped inside and closed the door behind her, locking it and looking around desperately for a way to block it.

  She found herself inside a small kitchen, with a breakfast nook to her right and the cooking area to her left. Next to the door, a small refrigerator stood, unplugged.

  She rounded it and heaved against the appliance as hard as she could. It was lighter than she’d expected, clearly empty. It scraped over about a foot, effectively blocking the back door from easy entry.

  She pulled her SIG from her holster and made a quick dash to the front. Fortunately, that door was locked with a dead bolt, which wasn’t unbreachable but would pose a bigger problem than the back door had. She made a quick check of the window locks, as well. Glass windows weren’t going to pose any real problem for someone who wanted in the house, but at least they’d offer her early warning of intruders.

  Keeping an ear out for any sounds of forced entry, she climbed the steps to the second floor, where she found four small bedrooms, all empty, and a pretty good view of the woods on all four sides of the house. She checked the back to see if the man in camouflage had topped the edge of the bluff. He should have been at the top by now, shouldn’t he?

  She saw nothing. No movement. No sign of anything out of place. Releasing a pent-up breath, she went to the other window in the room to look to the west. The clearing around the cabin extended only twenty yards before it melted into woods. In mid-March, the trees were past the initial budding period, bright green leaves sprouting on every tree that had lost leaves during the winter, making it harder to see movement among the trees.