Mistaken Identity

by Shirlee McCoy

  “Pretty, huh?” someone said and it was all Trinity could do not to scream. She whirled around to find Annie standing near a bookshelf at the far end of the room.

  “Where did you come from?”

  “Secret passageway behind the shelves.”

  “No. Really. Where were you? The room was empty when I walked in.”

  “There is a secret passage behind this shelf. Actually, it’s more like a servant staircase. My grandfather thought it would be funny to create a secret door and give visitors something to talk about.” She pressed the center of a flower carved into the side of the shelf and the entire thing slid open soundlessly, revealing a narrow staircase beyond.

  “Wow.”

  “Right? My family was interesting. I’ll give them that.” She ran a hand over her blue-black hair and smiled tiredly.

  “You must love it, though.”

  “The inn? I’m not sure how I feel about it. The tradition of it? That, I can get behind a little more. Unfortunately my aunt wasn’t a very prudent businesswoman. Things aren’t looking too good for the place.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. I’ll figure them out. You ready to head to your room?”

  “Are we taking the secret passage?”

  “Too many cobwebs and too much dust. Besides, your key is at the front desk.”

  “I didn’t realize there was one.”

  “My aunt made certain it was well hidden. She didn’t like worrying people about money, so the transactions were all done where no one could see. The office is at the top of the main stairs. You’re in room 210. Right at the back of the house. Beautiful view of the lake and the lawn. It’s very quiet. The men are in the three rooms right at the top of the stairs. I figured you might want a little space from them.”

  “How’d you guess?”

  Annie shrugged. “I had two brothers a lifetime ago. They were a lot older than me. If I’d let them, they’d have smothered me with concern and love.”

  “You had two brothers?” Trinity asked, moving across the room.

  “People die, Trinity. You look very young and very sheltered, but I’m sure you know that.”

  “How about you retract the claws, Annie? I haven’t done anything to deserve them.” Trinity wasn’t in the mood to accept criticism from a complete stranger.

  “Sorry.” Annie grimaced. “And I mean that sincerely. I quit smoking two weeks ago and I’m not exactly fun to be around. I should have warned you when you made your reservations and suggested you find a place in the next town over. I won’t charge you for the night if you want to leave in the morning. Go on upstairs. Turn right at the top. The light is on in the office and the key is right on the desk. If you need anything, let me know.” She walked to the French doors and opened them, letting in wintery air that held a hint of pine and wet earth and wood-burning fires. They were homey scents at odds with the cavernous room and marble floors and the testy young woman who’d walked outside.

  If Trinity had been smart, she’d have taken Annie’s advice and gone to find the key, but something about the slope of the other woman’s shoulders, the tired way she’d moved as she’d walked outside, reminded Trinity of Bryn. That was enough to cool her temper and make her wonder what Annie’s story was, why she’d taken over an inn that she didn’t really love, and what had happened to cause her brothers’ deaths.

  And that, of course, was enough to get her moving back across the room and out onto the patio. She scanned the area, saw Annie walking toward the bluff that looked out over the lake.

  “Annie!” she called. “Hold up!”

  But Annie just kept walking.

  She followed, picking her way across the ran-soaked lawn, the storm blowing rain and ice into her face. Up ahead, Annie had reached the bluff and seemed to step over the edge and disappear from sight.

  Terrified, Trinity sprinted forward, not sure what she would do if Annie really had gone over the edge.

  But, of course, she hadn’t.

  There was a wide metal guardrail and a gate that opened onto a path that must go down to the lake.

  Pretty, but Trinity had no desire to get close to the water again. Annie knew what she was doing. She owned the property and she obviously didn’t think walking down the path during a storm was dangerous.

  Trinity hoped it wasn’t.

  Maybe she should check. Just go down a few yards, get the lay of the land and make sure Annie hadn’t tumbled over the side.

  “It can’t hurt,” she said, reasoning aloud because she was alone in the middle of a storm. “And if Annie has gotten into any kind of trouble, I’ll just call for he—”

  A hand slammed over her mouth and she was yanked backward with enough force to lift her off her feet. For a split second she thought it was Mason, proving a point again, but her assailant’s hand was rough, his palm so tight against her mouth, her teeth ground into her lips.

  She struggled as he dragged her backward. No gun pressed to her head or chest. No threats. The guy was just yanking her along like she was a rag doll, barely giving her feet a chance to touch the ground.

  Don’t panic! her mind shrieked. Think!

  She’d had all the classes. She’d trained to defend herself in situations like this. She knew what she was supposed to do, but the guy seemed to be seven feet tall and about the same width, his arms heavy with muscle, his hand smelling of alcohol, cigarette smoke and something else. Something metallic and familiar.

  She couldn’t place it.

  Didn’t have the time to think it through.

  He dragged her to the woods that lined the property and his grip shifted, his muscles tightening in preparation for something. She had no idea what and she didn’t give him a chance to show her.

  She slammed her head into his chin with enough force to make her see stars. He yowled, losing his grip as he fell backward. She was free and she wasn’t foolish enough to wait to see if he came at her again.

  She took off. Feet slipping on ice-coated grass.

  Please, God, let the door still be unlocked.

  Please...

  The rest of the prayer faded as a shadow darted toward her, moving with so much speed she didn’t have time to sidestep, didn’t have time to evade. She did have time to scream, the sound torn from her throat as she tried to take off in the opposite direction.

  One minute she was screaming. The next she was tossed over someone’s shoulder, her head banging against a hard back as the person pivoted and raced back the way he’d come.

  She wanted to keep screaming but every jarring step forced the air from her lungs. Her screams were reduced to quiet, desperate gasps as she tried to shimmy away.

  “It’s me.”

  Just those two words. But she knew the voice. And she might have even known the broad hands and muscular shoulders, the warm flannel and—more than any of those—the quick, decisive action.

  “Mason?” she managed to gasp.

  “Yeah. So how about you stop fighting? I want to get you inside. The sooner, the better.”

  She couldn’t agree more.

  There was nothing cool or fun or exciting about being scooped up and carried like a sack of potatoes.

  “Someone—”

  “I saw him from the library.”

  “What were—”

  “I was looking for you.”

  “Why?”

  “Trinity, how about you let it rest for about five seconds?” He ground the words out and she pressed her lips together, letting her hands rest on his rib cage and back.

  She wanted down.

  Now.

  She also didn’t want to be the reason Mason got hurt.

  They’d reached the patio and he sprinted across it, flew through the French doors and dropped her onto the nearest chair.

  “You go
ing to stay put this time or do I need to get your brother involved?” he asked.

  “He’s already involved,” Chance growled.

  She turned, saw him stalking across the room, a look on his face she’d only ever seen a couple of times.

  Fear mixed with anger and relief.

  “Good, because I want to have a little chat with someone.” Mason was out the door before anyone could speak again, disappearing into the storm so quickly he might not have been there at all.

  “I can’t believe you were out there, Trinity,” Chance snapped, his blue eyes blazing with frustration.

  “Sure you can,” she responded.

  Some of his anger faded away. “What were you thinking?”

  “That someone needed to make sure Annie was okay. It’s not like I went out there alone.”

  “Then what happened?”

  “She headed down to the beach and when I tried to follow...” She didn’t want to tell him. Not all the details. It would scare him too much. “There was someone out there, Chance.”

  “Trinity...” He didn’t say whatever he was thinking. Just shook his head.

  She refused to feel guilty for what she’d done. She wouldn’t feel foolish, either. There was no way anyone could have tracked her to the inn and no reason why anyone would want to.

  They think you’re my girlfriend.

  Mason’s words rang through her head as Chance texted Cyrus. Probably asking him to come babysit Trinity.

  She kept her mouth closed, refusing to tell him she didn’t need to be guarded.

  “Cyrus’s on his way down,” Chance finally said. “Do not leave this room without him.”

  With that, he ran out the French doors, shutting them firmly behind him.

  * * *

  Five minutes.

  That had been the difference between danger and safety.

  If Mason hadn’t decided to check on Trinity one last time before he returned home... If he hadn’t thought he’d heard voices coming from somewhere at the back of the house... If he hadn’t walked into the library and seen the open door...

  Things could have turned out a lot differently.

  If there was a silver lining to the giant black cloud that seemed to be hanging over their heads, it was that the thug who’d come after Trinity didn’t want her dead. What he wanted was to use her as a pawn. Of course, once she’d helped him accomplish his goal, she’d be dispensable.

  Not a good thought.

  Mason needed to find the guy calling the shots and paying the bills. If he could stop him, he could keep both Tate and Trinity safe.

  Feet pounded on the ground behind him and splashed in the puddles the rain was leaving behind. He didn’t turn around. He knew it was either Chance or Cyrus. Probably Chance. He’d want to get his hands on the guy who’d grabbed his sister. That’s how Mason would have felt if he’d had siblings.

  He didn’t.

  Since his grandfather had passed away three years ago, he didn’t have anyone. That didn’t bother him. But watching Chance and Trinity together had reminded him of things he’d longed for when he was kid, things he’d thought he’d have when he’d married Felicia.

  Seconds later Chance sprinted up beside him. He wasn’t gasping for breath. He wasn’t winded. It seemed to Mason the guy could have kept that pace for a mile and not broken a sweat.

  “Do you know which direction he went?” Chance asked.

  “Through the trees. Over this way.” He found the spot where the guy had disappeared, flashing his Maglite on the tamped-down grass and broken branches.

  “You have any idea who he is?”

  “No.” He did have an idea who’d sent him. A vague idea, but an idea.

  “Any idea what he wants with my sister?”

  “I’d assume he wants to use her to manipulate me.”

  “You don’t even know each other.”

  “He doesn’t know that.”

  “Maybe you should tell him.” Chance knelt near a boot print pressed into the damp ground.

  “I’d do that. If I had any idea who he was.”

  Chance snapped a picture of the boot print and straightened. “Come on, Gains. You can’t tell me that you have no idea what’s going on here. You were a military guy. Well trained. You’re a decorated veteran with two PhDs in fields that most people would flunk out of their first semester.”

  “You’ve done your research.”

  “Better than coming into a situation blind. So, what’s going on? Who’s after you? Why? And what does it have to do with my sister?”

  “I’m not sure. On any of those questions.”

  “But you have an idea.”

  “Ideas are easy to come by, Chance.”

  “They’re also easy to share.”

  “I’ll tell you what I know,” he said, because if he were a brother, if his sister were in danger, he’d want as much information as he could get to help keep her safe. “After we follow this guy’s trail.”

  “Should be easy enough to do. He wasn’t being careful.”

  “He was panicked. Your sister head-butted him and he lost his grip. I think he thought she’d be an easy mark, and I think the fact that she wasn’t flustered him.”

  “Head-butted?”

  “Back of her head into his chin.” Mason had seen it all, the guy lunging out of the shadows and grabbing Trinity, the struggle as he’d pulled her toward the woods.

  Reaching her had taken seconds.

  It had seemed like a dozen years.

  He’d been terrified they’d disappear into the woods and he’d lose them there. She wasn’t his responsibility. He knew that. But it felt like she was.

  “Trinity is tougher than she looks. That played to her advantage.”

  “She’s also smart,” Mason added.

  Chance glanced his way. “That goes without saying.”

  “That makes the fact that she was out here surprising. She can’t keep making decisions that put her in harm’s way. If she does, it could get her killed.”

  “What is it she knows or has that is worth killing her for?” Chance asked, no hint of emotion in his voice.

  With anyone else, Mason would have assumed that was a good thing. He had a feeling Chance was an exception; that the calmer he sounded, the more angry he was.

  “Nothing.”

  “Then she shouldn’t be in any danger. We find the guy who’s out here. We turn him in to the police. Then Cyrus, Trinity and I will hit the road and put some distance between ourselves and whatever trouble you’re in.”

  “Good idea. In theory.” Mason stepped over a fallen tree, following a trail of broken branches and partial footprints through the woods. He could see where the guy was heading—down to the road and back toward town.

  “In theory...how?”

  “Somehow someone got the impression that Trinity and I are dating. That person wants information I have. If she were my girlfriend, then having her might give them something to negotiate with.”

  Chance didn’t respond. He was probably thinking things through, trying to decide how Mason’s theory impacted Trinity’s safety.

  It impacted it a lot.

  Far be it from Mason to make that announcement.

  They reached a footpath that had been paved years ago. It had probably been a shortcut from the inn to town, but it hadn’t been maintained. The cement was crumbling, plants shooting up through cracks, trees and bushes crowding in on it.

  “You know where this leads?” Chance asked.

  “It’s heading toward town, but I’ve never heard of anyone using it and I don’t know where it dumps out.”

  “Is there someone local who might know? Annie, maybe? If we can figure out where this is leading, we can have the sheriff send some men to intercept the guy.”

&n
bsp; “I can call the sheriff. He’s lived in Whisper Lake most of his life. Annie is new to the area.” He pulled out his cell phone and was dialing as they climbed a small hill, nearly sliding down the other side. The path was clear enough and the footprints the perp had left on the icy ground were obvious.

  Judah answered immediately, his voice sharp and filled with concern. “Where are you? I got a call from Trinity. She said there’s been trouble at the inn. I’m en route now.”

  “We’re on a path in the woods to the east of Whisper Inn. You happen to know where it leads?”

  “Cement or dirt?”

  “Cement. Old and crumbling. Looks like it’s been here for a while.”

  “Leads to the old church on Sullivan Road. You know it?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m heading in that direction. Go back to the inn. I’ve got a deputy heading over to take statements. I’ll call when I have the guy in custody.”

  He disconnected and Mason shoved the phone into his pocket.

  “Does he think he can head the guy off?” Chance asked.

  “Probably.”

  “Do you think he can?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “And?”

  “I’m not going to take the chance.”

  “So, we keep going?”

  “Yeah. We do.”

  “How’s the sheriff going to feel about that?”

  “I guess I’m going to find out. Feel free to go back to the inn if you’re worried about getting into trouble with local law enforcement.”

  “I’m more afraid of letting this guy get away,” Chance responded as something flashed on the path in front of them.

  A flashlight maybe. There. Gone. There again.

  A signal of some sort?

  Was it possible the perp wasn’t alone?

  “I don’t like this,” Chance muttered, but he was still moving forward, silently and quickly.