Writing was a solitary profession and in my case, that probably wasn’t a good thing since I tended to be an introvert. Usually, I needed time alone to recharge my batteries, but after locking myself away from society to get this book done, what I really needed was to talk to my best friend. I knew she’d be able to pull me out of my funk and help me get my head straight before I hit the road in the morning. She’d been doing it practically our whole lives. Walking over to the table in the entryway where I’d left my purse the day I arrived, I dug through it, looking for my cell phone.
“Crap,” I swore under my breath, even though there wasn’t anyone around to hear my bad language. I had thrown my phone in there at my last stop for gas on the way up, thinking I’d powered it off. It was right after I posted to all my social media profiles, letting everyone know I was going to be out of reach for a couple weeks. It had been crunch time and I needed to get away from any and all distractions if I was going to finish before my deadline. The cabin was the perfect getaway spot since it didn’t have internet access and cell service was spotty in the mountains. Only...it was a little too perfect in this instance. There wasn’t a landline and I hadn’t bothered to pack my charger since I knew I wasn’t going to be using my phone.
A quick glance out the window told me it was too late to leave for home. It wasn’t a good idea to traverse the mountain roads at night, especially without a functioning phone. Now I felt especially dumb for not going into the Volkswagen dealership to have them look at the built-in phone charger that broke a couple months ago. The car wasn’t due for an oil change for another couple months; I figured it could wait until then. This was yet another example of how my procrastination almost always came back to bite me in the butt at the worst time possible.
But it wasn’t like there was anything I could do about it now. I had never been one to believe in pity parties and refused to sit and pout. There was a bottle of wine in the fridge with my name on it, some cream puffs in the freezer I could defrost as a treat, and several books waiting for me on my kindle. It looked like I needed to pull up my big girl panties and make the best of a bad situation.
One quick glance around the room made me realize my plans to unwind needed to wait. I was always a bit of a slob, but the cabin looked like a tornado had come through since I arrived. Or maybe I should just chalk it up to Hurricane Delia since I was the one responsible for the empty wrappers, paper plates, and plastic cups piled onto just about every available surface. Cleaning was the last thing I wanted to do, but I made myself do it anyway. It kept me busy for a little while and took my mind off being alone. Plus, it needed to be done before I left.
After taking a long shower and starting a fire in the fireplace in my bedroom, I climbed into bed. I wouldn’t be ready to fall asleep for a few hours yet, but I had my wine and cream puffs waiting on the nightstand and my kindle on the bed. Thumbing through the books I downloaded before leaving home, I had a difficult time choosing which to read first. My eyes kept going back to a romantic suspense with a shy heroine and the military man who swept her off her feet and out of danger. The story called to me on a deeper level and I decided to start with it.
A few hours later, I found myself wiping tears from my cheeks after reading a touching proposal in the epilogue. As I turned off the light and rolled over to hug my pillow, I couldn’t stop myself from wishing I had someone to hug instead. It would be nice if the stories I wrote and read came true in real life. I would give just about anything to have an alpha hero of my own.
Chapter 3
Blaine
Flying on a private jet definitely had its advantages—like being able to use my phone. The moment the plane was within cell tower range, a text from Serena came through.
Serena: Meet me for lunch at the place we last saw each other.
The wording of her text bothered me. It was cryptic enough to let me know she was scared about revealing too much information, hinting at the possibility of her messages being traced. Luckily, the Hilton, where I’d stayed the last time I was in Atlanta, was only about a twenty minute cab ride from the airport, depending on traffic. I sent her a quick text letting her know I’d be there. I also sent Brody a message, filling him in on the plan. His response was swift and succinct, another offer to hop on a plane if I needed him.
Unfortunately, the same couldn’t be said for Serena. By the time I landed, she still hadn’t responded. The last contact I’d had with her, aside from the cryptic one, was last night when she confirmed she had received the information for Brody’s contact. If she’d managed to check in to the Hilton, then he must have come through for her. I needed to focus on getting there as quickly as possible. Without knowing what the hell was going on, I couldn’t be certain how long she’d be safe at the hotel.
It was lunch time when I arrived, almost a full twenty-four hours since I received Serena’s first message. The hotel’s lobby was fairly busy, but I didn’t see any sign of her. Heading into the restaurant where we’d had dinner years ago, I hoped like hell she was already waiting. I scanned the restaurant, quickly realizing I had beat her there.
“Table for two. In the corner,” I instructed the hostess, choosing the seat facing the entrance.
After about thirty minutes of waiting, I took pity on my waitress and ordered a burger. Checking my cell every couple of minutes or so, I started getting antsy after another half hour passed. So far, the only thing I had managed to accomplish was a full stomach. Leaning back in my chair, my gaze drifted over the room again. It was much busier than it had been a few years ago. Possibly even abnormally busy for a hotel restaurant in the middle of the week.
“Seems like a full house,” I murmured to my waitress as she came over to clear my plate. I’d caught her eyes drifting down to check out my body a few times already, so I flashed her a smile, making her blush. If I needed to use her attraction to me to get some information, then that’s what I was going to do. “Is there a convention or something in town?”
She looked around before leaning forward to whisper her response. “It sounds crazy, but I think a lot of them are gawkers.”
“Gawkers?” I repeated.
“Yeah, they probably saw the news about that author who was murdered here this morning and came for lunch to find out if there was anything to see,” she explained. “It’s heartless, is what it is. That poor woman deserves better than this after what happened to her.”
“I hadn’t heard the news.” My reply surprised her and I hurried to explain, not wanting to lose a valuable source of information. “I was overseas until today. This was my first stop after my plane landed.”
“Oh, I guess that makes sense.” She looked at the unused place setting across from me. “Was your friend delayed?”
“Looks that way,” I confirmed.
Her eyes flicked to the empty chair and back to mine again. “If it’s a date, then she’s crazy for standing you up.”
“Not a date,” I corrected. “Just a friend.”
She blushed again, but I didn’t feel the pull of attraction. Although she was pretty, she wasn’t my type, even if the timing had been perfect. I was sure there were plenty of guys who would have been happy to have the tall blonde hit on them, but I wasn’t one of them. I rarely went after blondes and I liked my women with more curves. “Somebody was really murdered here?”
She looked up to make sure nobody was listening to our conversation and took another step closer. “That’s what I heard, but my friend, who was working this morning, said the police wouldn’t say who it was or if she really was murdered when they questioned her. Rumor has it the maid who found the body said she was beaten and shot several times, including in the face. I don’t see how it could be anything but murder.”
“And nobody heard anything?”
She leaned forward, her breasts right in my face, and whispered in my ear. “The maid also said she was tied up and had a gag in her mouth, but I’m not supposed to talk about it. The manager lectured us about ho
w to handle the situation before my shift started. I really shouldn’t have said anything, but you seem like a trustworthy guy.”
As badly as I wanted to grill her for more information, I knew by the look on her face and the quiver in her voice there was no way she was going to say anything else. “My lips are sealed.”
She left the check and I stuck some cash inside the holder. Enough time had passed that I needed to consider the possibility of Serena not showing up. I sent Brody a quick text asking him to get in touch with his contact to see if he had any information and then I pulled up my web browser to look for the news stories the waitress had mentioned. There it was—local author found murdered in hotel room.
The article didn’t include many details, just her name, a little bit about her career, and the basics about her death. The lack of information wasn’t surprising considering it had only been half a day since her body was discovered. I didn’t know if there was any kind of connection, but I didn’t like the coincidence of Serena choosing to hide in a hotel where a murder took place.
Right now, I felt like my hands were tied. I had no idea where Serena was or where she lived, so looking for her was also out. The way I saw it, I had three options: ask Brody for another favor, call my mom, or wait to see if Serena showed. It really was a no-brainer. Without any intel on the situation, I didn’t want to sit here with my thumb up my ass and there was no way in hell I was going to get my mom involved—and not just because it was dangerous. If she knew I’d been in touch with Serena again, she’d start plotting to get us back together. Between her friendship with Serena’s mom and her recent hints that I wasn’t getting any younger, she would take this as a sign from up above to plan a wedding or some crazy shit like that. That left me with one viable option.
Me: Can you find an address for Serena?
Brody: You flew halfway around the world for her and you don’t even know where she lives?
I wasn’t surprised he was busting my balls about this. If our roles were reversed, I’d be doing the same thing. It didn’t mean I had to like it, though.
Me: Can you do it or not?
Brody: Chill out. Already done. Sending it now.
I waited another ten minutes, watching as the restaurant emptied from the lunch rush. Although Serena hadn’t specified a time for us to meet, if I waited much longer, I was going to draw attention to myself, and that was the last thing I wanted to do.
Grabbing a cab, I gave the driver the address Brody had sent over and used the drive over to search the internet for any news connected to the hotel in the last day other than the author’s murder. When my search didn’t turn anything up, I googled Serena’s name. The only things I found were some social media profiles and photos of her with the guy I assumed she was dating. I made a mental note of his name and memorized his face for future reference.
The photos weren’t from too long ago, yet she had come to me for help instead of him. It could be because she knew I was better equipped to handle dangerous situations and she didn’t want him to get hurt, or he was part of the reason she was running.
When the cabbie pulled up to Serena’s place, I was surprised to find myself at an expensive looking townhome. “Keep the meter running,” I instructed him as I stepped out of the cab. Knowing it was a long shot, I walked up to the front door and rang the bell.
A part of me hoped Serena would answer and tell me she’d overreacted and everything was fine. After minute or two had passed, I knew that wasn’t going to happen. I looked down at the welcome mat on the front step and wondered if she’d picked up the same habit her mom had when we were growing up. It was an idiotic thing to do living in Atlanta, but Serena never was one to think things all the way through.
I glanced at the cabbie from the corner of my eye. He had pulled out a book and his attention wasn’t focused on me, so I bent down and peeled back the upper left corner of the rug. And there it was. A goddamn key to her front door. If Serena had been standing in front of me, I would have shaken her in fury for taking such a stupid risk with her safety—even though her mistake meant I was able to let myself into her house.
Finding the key turned out to be a good thing. Someone had been here before me, tossing the place. Couch cushions ripped open, drawers all dumped out, everything from her bookshelves tossed into a pile on the floor. Odds were damn good they were looking for something specific. The bad news was I had no fucking clue what it could be. The state of her apartment combined with her no-show at the hotel was most likely the first signs that this situation was going to be fucked beyond all recognition.
I had no way of knowing if the damage had been done before or after Serena ran. I tried calling her number, but she still wasn’t picking up. My only other option for information seemed to be Brody’s contact. Luckily, Brody picked up on the first try.
“Serena didn’t show at the hotel and her place has been searched. What did your contact have to say?” I asked before he could say hello.
“I haven’t been able to reach him.” His answer was the last thing I wanted to hear.
“Fuck!” Operating without any information was the surest way to end up hurt—or dead. “Where can I find him?”
“He’s not answering his phone and hasn’t responded to the message I left him on his eepSite.”
“In English, Hack,” I demanded. He knew I hated when he reverted to geek-speak. It flew straight over my head most of the time.
“I don’t have a physical address for him. Our communication has all been done through phone calls and his website. It’s an I2P site, which means it’s anonymously hosted. I’ve already started digging, but it looks like he’s running servers in multiple locations. It will take time, but I’ll be able to pull an identity eventually,” he explained.
It was still over my head, but I knew Brody would find this guy if it was doable. “What about his phone? Can you trace him through it faster?”
“Looks like it’s a burner. One he only started using a week ago and hasn’t used since about six hours after Serena called him.”
“I’ve got a cab waiting for me. I guess I’ll head back to the hotel and hope like hell she shows up this time,” I muttered. “While I’m stuck here twiddling my thumbs, can you run a background check on Serena? If she doesn’t show up soon, I’m going to have to start finding people who know her and asking questions to see if I can figure out what the fuck is going on.”
“Want me to check police reports for the last day? See if someone reported her missing?”
He wouldn’t limit his search to missing persons reports and we both knew it. I was already frustrated as hell and the thought of finding out something horrible happened to Serena after she asked me for help pushed all the wrong buttons. I hated being in the dark, stuck searching through her things for clues. Grabbing one of the books from the floor, I threw it against the wall before answering Brody’s question. “Yes.”
The book didn’t fare well. The cover was torn and I felt like shit when I flipped through the first couple pages and realized it had been signed by the author. The guys who had torn her place apart had done enough damage, I didn’t need to add to it. As I walked over to the bookshelf to set it down, the name on the cover jumped out at me. “Shit,” I hissed.
“You about to get caught?”
“I didn’t have to break in. I found her spare key hidden exactly where her mom used to leave hers when we were growing up,” I explained
His bark of laughter was full of disbelief. “She’s on the run from God only knows what kind of trouble and she didn’t even bother to grab the spare key?”
“Nope,” I confirmed.
“Then if I don’t need to be worried about bailing your ass out of jail, what’s wrong?”
“What do you think the odds are of Serena having an autographed copy of a book by an author whose body was found at the same hotel I was supposed to meet her at today?”
“I’d say there’s no such thing as coincidence.”
Digging through the pile of books, I found several others written by the same person. “I just found five more of them. Every single one has a personalized message inside addressed to Serena.”
“Maybe the author’s connected to Serena’s problem somehow?” Brody suggested.
“It’s worth looking into, especially since I don’t have anything else to go on right now. I need to get back outside before the cabbie gets curious. The last thing I need is to find myself stuck at the police station,” I said, heading to the front door. “Can you get me an address for Delia Sinclair? The article I found online said she was a local author.”
“You gonna break into two homes on the same day, Saint?” Brody asked. I was sure his use of my nickname was deliberate since I had a reputation for being a stickler for the rules. It used to drive him nuts since Brody was the kind of guy who hated rules. “Maybe I rubbed off on you more than we realized.”
“Blow me,” I mumbled. “I don’t know what I’m going to do yet, but until I get in touch with Serena or you get ahold of your guy, she’s the only lead I have.”
“You do realize if she’s a murder victim and the police are working her case, they’re most likely going to spend some time in her neighborhood investigating, right?”
“I’ve managed to get our team into tighter spaces,” I argued.
“I wouldn’t recommend using C4 today. The cops might notice.”
“Thanks for the advice, Mr. Obvious,” I growled. “Just get me the address, okay?”
“It’s already on the way to you. And while I’m at it, I think I might just do a little exploring in the Atlanta police department’s network to see what I can find.”
“How about you spend more time worrying about not getting caught hacking into their system and less time worrying about me breaking and entering?” I grumbled. “It’s not like Damian can hook you up with the same deal as last time.”
Identity Crisis Page 2
