Mistaken Identity

by Shirlee McCoy

  So, of course, he had to.

  “You look exhausted, Trinity,” he said loudly, and all three men stopped talking.

  “I am,” she said wearily. “It’s been a long couple of days and that dunk in the icy brink didn’t exactly add pep to my step.”

  “Why don’t you try to rest, then?” he continued and thought he saw a hint of a smile in her eyes.

  “I would, but it’s a little loud in here.”

  “Okay. Fine. I get it,” Chance said. “We’ll discuss this in the hall, but we’re not going to be more than a couple of feet away, so don’t try anything slick, Trinity.”

  “I don’t have the energy for slick,” she responded as her brothers left the room. Cyrus followed more slowly, his attention on Mason.

  “You are planning to come, too, right?” he asked.

  “Eventually.”

  “If you stay, don’t be surprised if she talks you into something you have no intention of doing. She’s wily.”

  “Thanks, Cyrus,” Trinity said groggily. “I love you, too.”

  He smiled and walked into the hall.

  Mason would have followed but Trinity grabbed his hand. “Not so fast. I need your help.”

  “No.”

  “You haven’t even heard what I was going to ask.”

  “The answer will be no. No matter what you ask.”

  “Even if all I’m asking you to do is make a phone call for me?”

  “To who?”

  “Bryn.”

  “There’s a phone right beside you, Trinity. How about you use that.”

  “You said you’d talk to her,” she responded. “And, if I’m leaving in the morning, that might not happen for a while. You don’t have to promise her anything. You just have to tell her that I tried.”

  “I’m sorry, Trinity. I’m not going to do it. I will meet with her, and I will talk to her son, but I’m not doing it over the phone, and I’m not doing it until you’ve prepared her for what I’m going to say.” He was putting off the inevitable. He knew that, but he wasn’t ready to talk to a mother facing the same kind of fear he had. He wasn’t willing to look into the eyes of a kid fighting for his life.

  “Why not?” Trinity demanded, her skin pale, her face gaunt. She looked like she’d been on the battlefield, her eyes haunted by things others would never understand.

  He could have made an excuse, fed her a line that might have satisfied her curiosity, but he wanted her to know the truth. He wanted her to understand why he didn’t work with kids. Why he never had and why he probably never would. He didn’t want her to think he was callous, that he didn’t care, didn’t have compassion.

  The fact that he cared what she thought was unsettling.

  Usually he did his own thing and let other people do theirs. He didn’t judge and he didn’t care if he was judged. He walked his path mostly alone and only God’s opinion of that really mattered.

  But now Trinity’s mattered.

  He didn’t want her to leave town thinking the worst of him.

  “I had a daughter. A lifetime ago,” he said.

  “I didn’t—”

  “Find that in your research? You wouldn’t have. It’s not something I talk about. She was born while I was deployed. I met her for the first time when she was six weeks old. I was a couple of months past twenty, and I’d never wanted to be a dad, but there she was, and I loved her instantly.”

  “Mason, you don’t have to tell me this.” She was still holding his hand and he could feel the fine tremors of muscles still trying to get warm.

  “If I don’t, you won’t understand and, for some reason, I want you to.”

  She nodded, her expression as solemn as he’d ever seen it.

  “Amelie was a sweet little girl, but she was spoiled by her grandmother and her mother and by me when I was home. Which wasn’t as much as it should have been. When she was three, she got sick. My ex thought it was the flu, but Amelie never recovered. A few weeks later, they ran test to find out why she was still so sick. She had leukemia. Aggressive. Rare. Hard to treat. That’s what we were told. She fought for a year, but all the fighting in the world couldn’t stop the progression of the disease. We buried her a week before her birthday. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”

  She didn’t say a word. But she was crying, tears slipping down her cheeks and dripping onto the blankets.

  “That’s why I don’t work with kids, Trinity. It’s too hard.”

  “You must see your daughter in every one of them,” she said.

  He shook his head. “No. I see the child—whoever he or she is. I see all the things they dream of and want, and I want to fix what can’t be fixed. I want to heal what only God and the doctors can. I don’t like feeling helpless, and if I worked with kids, I’d feel that way every day of my life.”

  “I understand. I’ll tell Bryn that you can’t help.”

  “I’ll her myself, and I’ll talk to her son. I told you I would, and I never go back on my word.”

  “I haven’t found your hacker yet, so you don’t owe me a thing, Mason.”

  “You didn’t, but you plan to keep looking.” He was guessing.

  She smiled, wiping moisture from her cheeks. “You’re right. I do.”

  “Just be careful if you decide to look around in anyone else’s systems.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The hacker may know he’s being cyber-stalked. If so, he’s probably panicked, worried that he’s going to be found out before he gets the information he needs.”

  She frowned. “I suppose that’s possible. Anyone who knows anything about computer forensics should be able to know if their system is being infiltrated. But he’s got some pretty good firewalls up. It’s going to take a while to get through them.”

  “He doesn’t know that, Trinity. The guys who showed up at my place today? They took a huge chance. No one does that unless they feel desperate.”

  “It seems to me that they’ve been desperate all along.”

  “What they did today was risky to the point of foolishness.”

  “Which means I’m even closer to breaking in than I thought I was.” She sounded triumphant and excited, her hair fluttering around her cheeks as she sat up. “I need to get back in. See what it is this guy is so worried about.”

  “Now’s not the time,” he cautioned.

  “There’s no time like the present to do anything, Mason,” she corrected, shoving aside the blankets and getting to her feet. She looked tiny, drowning in layers of hospital gowns, her feet encased in wool socks that bagged around her ankles. “My bag is in the closet. Can you grab it for me?”

  He intended to say no.

  He planned to tell her that she should stay in bed, get some rest, stay warm, but she smiled and he found himself grabbing the bag and handing it to her.

  “Thanks. I’ll be out in five,” she said.

  And then she walked into the bathroom and shut the door.

  TWELVE

  Trinity turned the lock and leaned against the door, her heart pounding wildly, her eyes still burning with tears she hadn’t wanted to continue to shed. Not in front of Mason.

  The story he’d shared had broken her heart.

  She’d wanted to tell him that, but the words had seemed like hollow platitudes. They couldn’t ease his sorrow. They couldn’t bring his daughter back. All they could do was make Trinity feel like she’d tried. Since how she felt didn’t matter, she’d kept her mouth shut.

  She ran hot water into the sink and splashed her face with it, leaving her hands under the fiery deluge for a few seconds. Her fingers were still colorless when she pulled them out.

  She’d been close to frostbite.

  She’d also been close to death.

  Something everyone seemed determi
ned to remind her of. As if she needed a reminder. Her body ached, her skin burned, and her toes and fingers were on fire. She eyed her reflection in the mirror over the sink and scowled at her image.

  She looked like death warmed over, her skin so pale it was nearly translucent, her hair a mess of matted tangles. Good thing she didn’t care about how she looked, because she didn’t think there was much she could do to improve things. Chance had grabbed the smaller of the two bags she’d had at Mason’s place—the one he’d packed. There were plenty of clothes in it, but no toiletries.

  She dug through the bag just to be sure and pulled out thick yoga pants and a heavy sweater, a T-shirt, jeans and about six other layers of clothes.

  It took longer than she’d anticipated to dress. Her fingers were numb and clumsy, but she finally managed to tie her shoelaces, pull her hair into a ponytail and throw the hospital gowns into a laundry hamper near the door.

  By the time she opened the door, she was exhausted, the need to sit almost overwhelming, but she had work to do and she didn’t plan to sit around twiddling her thumbs.

  Mason was still the only one in the room and he was standing at the window, staring out into the darkness. His shoulders were straight, his posture perfect, but she knew now what had caused the sorrow and loneliness in him, and she wanted to cross the room, put her hand on his arm, tell him that she understood.

  She knew the emptiness that remained when someone died. She knew the hole in the heart that could never be filled. She understood all the games the mind could play and all the what-if scenarios it could create. She knew how difficult it was to move on, to live life as if the world hadn’t suddenly ended.

  She’d seen all those things when her sister disappeared.

  She’d felt all of them.

  She also knew that Mason wouldn’t want her pity any more than she’d have wanted his.

  “I’m ready,” she said, keeping her distance because a relationship was not what she’d been looking for when she’d come to Maine. Clarity was what she’d wanted. A sense of purpose and direction and focus that would help her take the next step. Whatever that might be. She didn’t need or want anything more or less than that.

  Mason turned, spearing her with his dark gaze.

  Her breath caught and her soul knew what her brain absolutely did not want to acknowledge—she was looking into the face of a man who was everything she should have been looking for when she’d met Dale, everything she should have wanted.

  Everything she did want.

  “You’re quick, Trinity,” he murmured, crossing the room and standing in front of her. “You’re also as wily as Cyrus claimed.”

  “Not even close.”

  “And, yet, you’re standing in the bathroom doorway, dressed and ready to leave.”

  “Did I talk you into doing something you didn’t want to do to get here?”

  “You talked me into letting you do what you shouldn’t do,” he responded.

  “What I should or shouldn’t do is a matter of opinion.”

  “In this case, it’s a medical opinion, and you’d probably do well to listen to it.”

  “I plan to. The doctor told me to stay warm and hydrated. I’m wearing layers of clothes and I’m going to find something to drink. Mission accomplished.” She grabbed her pack, hefted it to her shoulder and tried to move past him.

  He didn’t budge and the only way to the hallway was straight through him.

  “Excuse me,” she said, and all he did was stare her down. “It would be really nice,” she continued, trying again. “If you’d move.”

  “How about you get back in bed and I’ll bring you something to drink? What do you want?”

  “To leave this room,” she responded.

  He smiled. “I meant to drink.”

  “Nothing that I can’t get for myself.”

  “Is there some reason why you want to do that?”

  “I’m planning to make a few pit stops on my way to hydrate,” she admitted because she wasn’t going to lie. She was going into the hall, she was going to talk her brothers into giving her a ride back to Mason’s place, and then she was going to get right back to her cyber sleuthing.

  “Care to elaborate?”

  “I want to spend more time working on your computer. I’m getting close, or those guys wouldn’t have come after us today.”

  “They were after you. I’m expendable.”

  “You’re the only one who knows how to find Tate.”

  “Not anymore. You can hack into the system and figure out his whereabouts. Now that these guys know who you are and what you do for a living, I wouldn’t be surprised if they doubled their effort to get their hands on you.”

  “You think that’s what today was about? They know who I am?”

  “I think I want to keep you safe, Trinity. That’s as far as my thoughts are going right now. The best way to accomplish my goal is to have you go with your brothers. They’ll take you to their safe house.”

  “...i.e., glorified office at HEART.” She’d been in the room several times. There was a bed and a television but no phone and no computer.

  “It’s better than the alternative.”

  “Which is?”

  “Death.” He finally stepped aside and she was free to walk past. She didn’t move. She was too busy thinking about the water lapping over the edges of Mason’s boat, gurgling through the bullet hole in its side, swirling around her feet and then her ankles and then her shins.

  She could have died.

  She didn’t want people to say it, but she couldn’t make herself stop thinking about it.

  “You okay?” he asked, cupping her elbow and walking her into the hallway. Her brothers were there. Just like they’d said they would be. Cyrus was there, too, talking quietly on his phone. Probably speaking to his wife. Over the past few years several members of HEART had found what Trinity could only describe as true love. She’d watched them meet, fall in love, marry. And, each time, she’d thought, I’m next.

  Only she hadn’t been.

  She wouldn’t be.

  Which was absolutely fine. There were a lot worse things than being single.

  “I’m fine,” she managed to say.

  He didn’t respond.

  She wasn’t sure he would have because Chance’s phone rang and he glanced at the screen.

  “Odd,” he said.

  “What?”

  “Looks like Bryn is calling me.”

  Odd was exactly the word Trinity would have used to describe that situation. Chance and Bryn were acquaintances. She only had his number for emergencies that involved Trinity and, as far as Trinity knew, she’d never used it.

  “Has she done that before?”

  “No,” he said as he pressed the phone to his ear.

  “Hello? Miller, here.” He met Trinity’s eyes, his gaze dropping to her arm and the elbow Mason was still cupping.

  Mason didn’t move his hand and she didn’t pull away. She was too focused on Chance’s conversation.

  “Yes,” he was saying. “She’s right here. Hold on.” He handed Trinity the phone.

  “Hello? Bryn?” she said and, for a moment, she heard nothing. Then something that sounded like a quiet sob filled her ear.

  “Bryn?” she said again, worried because her friend almost never cried.

  “Yes,” Bryn finally responded, her voice raspy with what could only be tears. “Thank the Lord, I finally reached you. I’ve been calling your cell phone for hours.”

  “What’s wrong? Why are you crying, sweetie? Is Henry okay?” At the name, Mason’s fingers tightened on her arm.

  “He’s gone, Trin,” Bryn sobbed.

  The words washed over her and she felt faint.

  Henry couldn’t be gone.

  He was too young, too h
appy, too much of a fighter.

  All the blood that had been in her head was pounding through her heart. She needed to sit. The only place available was the floor, so she sank, back to the wall, heart racing as she listened to her best friend cry, and imagined Henry as a baby, then a toddler, then a little boy. She’d been there through every stage. She’d laughed when he’d turned twelve and told her that he finally considered himself the man of the house. She hadn’t let him hear her laughter, though, because he’d been earnest, his sincerity ringing out with every word he spoke.

  Henry.

  She couldn’t have loved him more if he’d been her own child, and her throat felt tight with a million tears, her chest heavy with a pain that she wasn’t sure she’d survive.

  “What happened?” she finally managed to say. “I thought his health was stable. If I’d known it wasn’t, I never would have traveled so far away.” Her eyes were burning, tears sliding down her cheeks.

  Someone handed her a tissue and she realized that Mason had crouched beside her and was watching her intently, his dark eyes filled with sorrow and compassion.

  Her brothers were there, too. Cyrus. The deputy. All of them were watching with nearly identical looks of sorrow and pity.

  “You don’t understand,” Bryn sobbed. “He’s really gone. As in missing. He went to school this morning. He had track this afternoon. When I went to pick him up, he was gone.”

  “He’s missing?” she repeated because she wasn’t sure she’d heard right.

  “Yes. I’ve called the police, and they’re sending K-9 teams out, but... I’m scared to death, Trinity. What if they don’t find him?”

  “They will,” she promised and then wished she hadn’t.

  “What will I do if they don’t?”

  “Don’t even think about that, right now? Okay. Just concentrate on getting him home.”

  “I am, but I need you here. I can’t do this on my own!” Bryn wailed.

  “I’ll be there as quickly as I can. I promise.”

  “I’m at the house. Come straight here when you get into town.”

  “I will.” Trinity jumped to her feet, heading toward what she hoped was the exit. She needed to get to Maryland. She needed to be there. Now. The fact that she wasn’t seemed to burn a hole in her lungs, stealing her breath, chasing every thought from her head.