Identity Withheld

by Sandra Orchard

  “Hey, how’d you get him to do that?” Jake said.

  “Do what?”

  “Sit to be petted, instead of jumping up.”

  She chuckled. “I don’t pet him until he sits. Positive Reinforcement 101,” she added with a wink.

  “Gran and I saw another goldendoodle just like Rusty outside the mall,” Tommy blurted. “I petted-ed him. And a man drove up in a black car and asked if his name was Rusty.”

  Kara exchanged a panicked look with Jake. “You didn’t tell him you had a goldendoodle named Rusty, did you?”

  Tommy shrank against Jake’s chest at her abruptness. “No, Gran said we had to go.”

  “That’s good,” Kara responded more softly this time. “Because you should never talk to strangers. You know that right?”

  “Yeah, that’s what our teacher says.”

  Jake bounced the knee Tommy sat on. “You don’t tell them your name or about your family or pets or even mention houseguests like Kara. Do you understand?”

  “No.” He thumbed the toy in his hands. “But I don’t talk about that stuff anyway.”

  Jake pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “That’s good. Why don’t you go see if Gran has some milk and cookies for you?”

  “Yay.” Tommy bounded off Jake’s lap. “You want some, Miss Kara?”

  “No, thanks, Tommy. I’m not hungry.” What little food she’d eaten at lunchtime churned in her gut. “That had to be the man from the truck stop,” she hissed the instant Tommy scooted out of the room. “He’s prowling the town looking for the dog. To find me! What if it had been Tommy and Rusty, not some other owner’s dog he happened upon? What if he checks with local breeders to track Rusty down?”

  “My dad got Rusty through a cop friend. He’s not going to tell some stranger who he sold his dogs to.”

  “Jake, this man torched my house, came after me with a gun. He’s not the kind of guy who takes no for an answer.”

  TEN

  At the sound of Rusty barking outside, Jake tore his gaze from the blazing fire in Kara’s eyes and burst out of the den. “Tommy, call the dog inside and keep him in.”

  Jake’s mom intercepted Jake in the hallway. “Tommy’s playing upstairs. The dog’s fine. Your father’s still out there.”

  “No, Mom, he needs to stay in the house.” Jake slipped past her to the back door and whistled. Once Rusty was safely inside, Jake turned to his mom. “That guy you saw in the mall parking lot, asking about the goldendoodle, what did he look like?”

  Mom’s eyes widened and strayed to the wall that separated them from Kara waiting for him in the den. “Is he who’s after Kara?”

  “It’s possible.”

  “I knew he was slippery when he asked if the dog’s name was Rusty.” She fussed with the tea towel in her hands.

  Fear flamed in Jake’s chest at how close the creep had been to his boy, at what might’ve happened if Tommy had blurted that his dog was called Rusty. “Can you describe him, Mom?”

  “Yes, he wore a black leather bomber jacket. Had a shaved head. Was shorter than Sam. Maybe five-eight. Oh, and he had some sort of tattoo on his arm. When he petted the dog, the base of it peeked out the bottom of his sleeve.”

  He sounded like Kara’s attacker, all right. “Can you find me the number of Dad’s friend who sold you Rusty?”

  “Yes, I have it right here.” She reached into the catchall drawer next to the fridge and pulled out an address book. “Did Kara confide in you? Tell you why he’s after her?”

  Jake’s grip tightened on the address book as his conversation with Kara replayed in his thoughts—the vulnerability in her voice when she’d asked why he cared what happened to her. He could still feel the heat on his lips where her touch had branded him as she’d stopped his explanation, apology in her eyes. He cringed at the thought that it had been easier to admit to his failure as a husband than examine his motives for protecting her too closely.

  He tried not to think about how perfectly she fit in his arms or notice the lingering fragrance of her shampoo on his shirt. Any man would have offered a comforting hug to still her trembling. It didn’t mean he felt anything more than concern for her. And even if he did, it wasn’t as if it mattered. She was in witness security. As soon as they connected her with a marshal they could trust, she’d move on and he’d probably never hear from her again.

  It might not be her choice, but the choice wouldn’t be hers to make.

  “Jake?”

  He jerked his attention back to his mother. “Just keep Rusty inside, okay?” As Jake headed back to the den, he thumbed the breeder’s number into his phone and made short work of ensuring he, at least, wouldn’t give Kara’s attacker a lead on their place. At the sight of her sitting at the desk, tapping a number into the phone, his heart rioted. “Who are you calling?”

  Squinting at the computer screen, she tapped faster.

  He stormed across the room, saw the website for U.S. Marshals and hit Disconnect.

  She hooked her fingers into the base of the phone and pulled it out of his reach. “I need to call them, Jake. I can’t endanger your family any longer.” The tiny indentation at the base of her throat convulsed, belying the steel thread propping up her voice.

  “But you said yourself that you didn’t know if you could trust them. The supposed marshal who came to the fire station didn’t look like a guy I’d want to trust your protection to. He had a handshake as limp as a rotten banana.”

  “I overreacted before. You were hovering outside the bathroom door. I wasn’t thinking straight. Now I am. Clearly this is my only option.”

  He backed toward the wall, planning to pull the cord from the phone jack if she refused to listen to reason. “Let’s talk to Sam first, okay? He’s ex-FBI. He can ensure you connect with a marshal you can trust.” Jake’s chest tightened. What if the next marshal didn’t do any better a job than the last one at keeping her safe?

  Kara twisted the phone’s receiver in her grip. “The marshal’s office would be furious with me if they found out I confided in him. They might refuse to acknowledge me, even.”

  Jake glanced at the contact information on the computer screen and fought the fleeting suspicion that she’d made up the whole witness security story and was afraid Sam would out her. His mother-in-law had been uncannily creative at spinning stories to explain her bruises. Jake’s fingers curled into his palm as his mind replayed Kara’s story. She was terrified the gunman would find her, no matter who’d hired him. He had no doubts about that. But maybe, like his mother-in-law, she wasn’t afraid enough to risk anyone else getting caught in the middle.

  “The marshal’s office can hardly blame you for confiding in someone.” Jake softened his voice. “They’re the ones who screwed up by leaving you exposed like this.”

  The rambunctious sounds of Tommy and Rusty playing sounded over their heads.

  Kara tugged her bottom lip between her teeth, her gaze straying to the ceiling.

  Jake snapped the phone cord from the wall jack and closed the distance between them. “Kara, he’s not going to find you here.”

  “You don’t know that.” Her eyes darkened to midnight-blue, a shade of determination he couldn’t help but admire as much as he hated to see it. “I went to the police with those photos to save a little boy’s life. I won’t risk another boy’s to save mine.”

  “Tommy isn’t in danger.” Jake’s cell phone rang and he snatched it from his hip. “It’s Sam,” he said as he clicked it on.

  “Turns out Deputy Marshal Clay Rogers is legit,” Sam said, the sound of a squad room in the background. “Did Kara tell you why he’d be interested in her?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Are we looking at another loose cannon like your father-in-law?”

  Jake held Kara’s uneasy
gaze, pouring all the reassurance he could into his own. “Can you come here?”

  “Sure. I lost Rogers’s tail, but do I need to switch vehicles in case he’s trolling the streets looking for my car?”

  “That’d be good.”

  Ten minutes later Sam pulled into the driveway in his fiancée’s Ford Focus. He paused briefly in the backyard and chatted with Dad, who was still working on the fence, then came inside.

  A moment later he appeared at the den door with a tray. “Mom made coffee.”

  Jake relieved him of the tray and made a mental note to give his mom a big hug later. He’d been a bear avoiding her earlier questions. They each took a cup and a seat, and at Kara’s request, Jake recounted her story to Sam.

  “The Happy Family Adoption Agency?” Sam’s focus turned to Kara.

  She nodded. “I guess you saw the picture of the dead employee they fished out of the Charles River yesterday?”

  Sam’s brow furrowed. “No, I just heard a report on the radio about a sting operation in Boston, resulting in a handful of arrests.”

  “Really?” Kara straightened, a hopeful glint in her eyes. “If they’ve arrested them on more evidence, then the case won’t hinge on my testimony anymore. I’ll be able to go home!”

  Sam moved to the computer and ran a search on the name of the adoption agency. “They arrested the owner for selling babies to the highest bidder. He apparently coerced desperate young mothers to falsify birth certificates.”

  “Will the biological parents get their children back?” Kara asked.

  Sam shook his head. “It could prove difficult. Client records were destroyed before the police moved in. Any adoptions that bypassed ordinary registration channels will be near impossible to track.”

  Kara visibly deflated. “It’s not fair.”

  “Not for either side. The article claims several clients of the agency contacted police to ask if the adoptions of their children were legal. They claim they had no idea the agency wasn’t operating legally. Could you imagine having to give up a child you’d raised for years?”

  Jake moaned. “It would rip me apart.”

  “But the child deserves to know his birth parents.” Kara squirmed. “To know that maybe they hadn’t wanted to give him up.”

  “Not arguing with you,” Sam interjected. “Just saying it’s going to be emotionally devastating all the way around. But what matters right now is finding out if the arrests mean you’ll no longer be targeted. Let me make a few calls.”

  As Sam stepped out of the room, Kara’s gaze sought Jake’s. “If the adoption agency hired the gunman, surely he won’t bother me now. My testimony will hardly matter.”

  Jake shifted closer and squeezed her hand. “That’s assuming he’s heard the news. In any case, the police will still want to catch him. He has a lot of charges to answer to.”

  “Chances are good the P.I. will tell us who hired him now that the adoption agency’s been exposed. Don’t you think?”

  Jake blew out a breath, quickly skimming the online article himself. “I guess it depends on who he’s more afraid of. The law or the thugs.”

  Sam returned, looking grim. “The owner of the adoption agency denies hiring anyone to silence Kara.”

  “Of course he does,” Jake growled. “That doesn’t mean he didn’t.”

  The taut edge to Sam’s jaw told him that the danger to Kara was far from over. “You believe him?”

  “My friend on the Boston P.D. claims the guy is spilling his guts in the hope of gaining a reduced sentence.”

  “I don’t doubt it, but he’s got to know that admitting to conspiracy to commit murder would put him away for good.” Jake winced at the shiver that trembled through Kara at his mention of murder.

  “Have they tied the employee’s death to anyone?” she squeaked.

  “No. It has all the markings of a mob hit, but the agency owner swears he’s never worked with organized crime. Claims he was as surprised and horrified by his employee’s death as anyone.”

  Kara frowned. “They said the bomb at my house in Boston had looked like a mob hit, too.” Her knuckles whitened as she shakily returned her coffee mug to the tray. “I guess the police will want me to stay in hiding awhile longer?”

  The sadness in her voice wrenched at Jake’s heart. She was a stronger person than him. Losing his wife had ripped a hole through his life. But he could scarcely imagine having been able to find his way through without the support of family and friends, whereas Kara had had every support ripped out from under her, save God alone.

  “Yeah, they will.” Sam shot Jake an indecipherable look. “My friend on the Boston P.D. is contacting the Seattle marshal’s office now. He’ll let them know what’s going on and find me a trustworthy contact. Then we’ll arrange for you to return to their protection.”

  Jake sprang to his feet and paced, feeling like a caged animal—powerless. “What are the police doing to find this guy?” The sheriff’s deputies hadn’t landed a single lead from interviewing Kara’s neighbors. And aside from maybe tracking down where the string and candles were purchased, the evidence they’d scrounged did little more than offer fodder to a profiler.

  “We have a BOLO out for the guy and his car. After what he did to two of our own outside the coffee shop, you can be sure every deputy between here and Seattle has eyes peeled for him.”

  Kara reached for the business card on the desk. “Couldn’t you pressure this P.I. to tell you who hired him?”

  “Yeah.” Jake agreed. “Or follow him? Or something?”

  “Actually, the adoption ring didn’t hire him,” Sam said. “A couple whose child was kidnapped did. My friend in the Boston P.D. told me the P.I. has harangued him a number of times. Wanted to see the photos Nicole—” Sam motioned to Kara “—uh, you brought in.”

  “Really?” She reached for the phone. “I need to talk to him, then. If the child I saw was theirs—” Her forehead furrowed and she looked oddly at the phone receiver. “The phone’s dead.” She gulped, her gaze darting to the window.

  “It’s okay,” Jake soothed. “I unplugged it.”

  Sam took the phone from her hands. “It’s probably better if you wait until the marshal gets here.”

  “No, he won’t let me talk to the P.I. I know he won’t.”

  “If that’s true,” Jake jumped in, “then it’s only to ensure your protection.”

  “But what if I saw something that can help this couple find their child? Can you imagine the agony they must be in?”

  “Yes, Kara, I can.” Jake sank to the seat beside her and reached for her hand. “But—”

  She jerked away. “My boyfriend thought I was crazy to go to the police with those pictures, but I knew that I couldn’t sleep at night knowing I might have been able to do something to save that child and reunite him with his parents.”

  Recalling the nightmare his mom had mentioned Kara having last night, Jake wondered if it still haunted her.

  “I need to talk to him and at least give those poor parents what answers I can.” Her eyes pleaded with him to understand.

  Jake exchanged a look with Sam, who didn’t look any more eager to approve the call.

  “What if this were Tommy?” Kara pressed. “You’d be on my tail until I answered your questions. You know you would. Besides, in a way, I’ll be safer if I talk to him now, because then there’ll be one less person trying to track me down and maybe exposing my location.”

  Yeah, but exposing her location was exactly what he feared.

  * * *

  Kara’s insides quivered as the next day, she and Jake approached the picnic area his brother had chosen as a meet site. “I thought Sam said the place would be deserted.”

  A dilapidated van sat in the corner of the parking lot, and she counted at
least three people in the park.

  “They’re the deputies watching your back,” Jake whispered. “Sam filled the sheriff in just enough to get you off his most-wanted list and secure protection. He said there’d be a lady with a stroller.”

  “I see her. Over by the fountain.” Kara lifted her hand, but Jake immediately grabbed it. And the playful warmth with which he held it captive sent a whole different kind of quivering through her middle. Jake was so different from any man she’d ever known—a man who might make her forget all the reasons she shouldn’t get involved in a serious relationship. Her gaze drifted back to the baby stroller and a lump lodged in her throat. She probably should be relieved that she was about to be whisked out of town and wouldn’t have time to explore this unexpected attraction.

  Jake released her hand and stopped to tie his shoe. “The jogger on the track circling the playground is another one of Sam’s men.”

  Feeling too much like a target standing in the empty parking lot in the bright red coat she’d borrowed from Jake’s mother, Kara pulled the hood’s string tighter. The fur edging tickled her nose, but at least the coat did a better job of shielding her face and camouflaging her body shape than the hoodie the bad guy had seen her in yesterday morning at the truck stop.

  Was it really only yesterday? It seemed like an eternity ago.

  Jake stood and jutted his chin toward a guy walking a terrier. “That must be the third deputy over there.”

  Kara reached underneath her coat and tugged at the very uncomfortable Kevlar vest Sam had insisted she wear. Jake’s father had dropped them off two blocks from the park, but between the vest and the coat, she’d worked up quite a sweat on the drive—a sweat that now dripped annoyingly down the center of her back, making her feel itchy where she couldn’t reach to scratch. “What are we supposed to do now?”

  “Look like a happy couple out for an afternoon stroll.” Jake captured her hand again, his calloused palm rasping against hers as he brought it to his lips. His deep blue eyes darkened as their gazes met over their joined hands and the lingering effect of his ever-so-soft lips.