Deadly Identity

by Lindsay McKenna

  “I want to live, not hide!” Susan cried out, her hands convulsing into fists in her lap. “I’m tired of this charade, Brenda. I want so badly to visit my mother, my brothers, but I can’t. All I’m allowed is a monthly phone call with my mother. I can’t ever see them! Do you know what that’s like? I feel like I’m dead already!”

  Brenda sat back, tapping her red nails on the glass over the desk. “I do understand,” she said gently. “Isn’t half a life better than no life?”

  Shutting her eyes, Susan fought back tears. She’d cried hardly at all since waking up in the hospital, but the grief was still locked up within her. The shock, the stresses and pressures of the hiding, the FBI agents always in the next room protecting her, the nightmares and PTSD symptoms conspired against her. Right now, Susan felt on the edge of nothing. She could close her eyes and see her pathetic, thin figure balanced on her toes over a precipice that had no bottom.

  “Susan?”

  Opening her eyes, she drilled Brenda with a glare. “I’m the victim here. I was the one who was gut-punched. Dirk killed our baby.”

  “He damn near killed you, too. If that FBI agent who was there for surveillance hadn’t pulled over after you stumbled out of that house with your nose bleeding, you’d be dead. When the agent saw you, he moved into action. He saved your life, Susan. You owe it to him and your family to keep going. I know it’s hard. I know you want to see them. But right now, you must move. We have to put you out in the middle of nowhere. We’ve had a team on this for six hours trying to figure out, based upon Payson’s profile, where in the U.S.A. he would not look for you. Wyoming tops that list.”

  Nodding, Susan looked down at her white fingers. Once again, her world was coming to an explosive, chaotic halt. Once more, her life was in jeopardy. Worse, this time it involved her mother and her brothers. Would Dirk go after them? He didn’t know where her mother was, thank God. But he did know where her brothers lived. They had refused witness protection.

  The FBI had persuaded her mother to disappear and she’d reluctantly agreed. Would Dirk kill her brothers to get even? A cold, aching chill wove down her spine. Susan had weekly nightmares of Dirk stalking her family and killing them, one by one. This mess was all her fault, and yet, her family had stood by her. They’d believed in Susan, and in her testifying to put Dirk away for good. None of them had entertained the thought of him ever breaking out of prison.

  “My mother knows I’m moving again?”

  Brenda nodded. “She feels it’s the right thing for you to do, Susan.”

  Clearing her throat, she whispered, “All right. Jackson Hole, Wyoming.”

  “Yes.” Brenda sat up, relieved. She handed Susan a file. “We’ve rented a small house for you. It’s a cabin on a ranch. You can continue with your art career online and work long-distance with your teachers. We’ve changed your name, and all your records will reflect that. At least that stays solid and reliable.” She managed a thin smile, hoping to cheer Susan up. “You can pick up a job there as a nanny. Your new name,” she said, pulling over a file and opening it, “is Rachel Carson. We have a completely new identity for you, including a new social security number, driver’s license and a deep résumé should people check it.” Brenda handed her the envelope with the information.

  “Then…I can’t tell my friends I’m leaving, can I?” It seemed unconscionable. None of her friends knew who she really was or what had happened to her. None ever would. Yet, to leave them like this—without a word of explanation—was cruel. Susan shook her head. “This is awful. They’ll think the worst of me.”

  “Maybe,” Brenda said with sympathy. “But if they were in your shoes, they’d do what they had to do to survive, Susan.”

  Susan glared at the FBI agent, her wound as fresh as if it had happened yesterday. Her unborn baby, Sarah, had been dead when she’d miscarried her in the emergency room. Dead from Dirk’s fist. Her baby could have lived had it not been for massive brain trauma. That was one of the few times Susan had cried. She had passed out from loss of blood and they had taken her dead daughter away.

  When she regained consciousness two days later, Susan had wanted to see Sarah, but they’d said she was already in the morgue and had undergone an autopsy. She had sat in that private room, her arms aching to hold the daughter she’d carried. Something vital had fled from her spirit. She’d never got to say goodbye to her baby. Susan hadn’t cared if she lived or died that day. But Brenda pulled her through.

  Depression settled in on Susan as she recalled those stark, terrible days after her miscarriage. Looking at the folder, she slowly opened it with trembling hands. “I guess a sane person would be scared, wouldn’t they? I mean, of Dirk being on the loose again.”

  Shrugging, Brenda murmured, “Hon, you’re still going through the grief of losing your baby. I can see that. Grief has a funny way. Sometimes, it’s fast. Sometimes, it’s long and drawn-out.”

  “It will be forever for me, Brenda,” she said, skimming the information in the file.

  “Your heart was ripped out.”

  Just the warmth burning in Brenda’s eyes made Susan rally. “It still feels ripped out. Sometimes I wonder if it will ever heal.”

  “When you meet the right man and get pregnant and have a second child, your healing will begin,” Brenda answered softly. The silence settled between them. Finally, the FBI agent continued, “I already have a moving team over at your apartment. They’re boxing everything up for you. All you have to do is take this airline ticket and go. I’ve got a driver waiting downstairs to take you to the airport.”

  Stunned, Susan realized she wouldn’t even be going back to her apartment. Her cocoon was gone. Destroyed, once more. Once again by Dirk Payson. Feeling horribly vulnerable, Susan rubbed her arm. “I can’t even go home….”

  “Home is in Jackson Hole, hon. Look at it this way, you get to spend Christmas in a gorgeous postcard place. Don’t worry, you’ll make friends and things will buck up. We’ll keep you apprised about Payson. If I find out anything, you’ll be the first to know. I promise.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  CADE HATED CHRISTMAS EVE. Hand tightening around the wheel of the Sheriff’s Department’s Chevy Tahoe, he forced himself to pay attention to the road. It was snowing, but not a blizzard. Still, at 8:00 p.m., the recently plowed roads shone with potential black ice.

  He had duty until midnight, and that was fine with him. He didn’t feel like going back to his home on his parents’ ranch to celebrate Christmas morning with them. In fact, the heavy blanket of sadness enveloped him as it always did at this time of year. Cade knew he wasn’t fit company even for the town drunk. His radio crackled with traffic from the dispatcher. There was an accident ten miles south of Jackson Hole. With this kind of weather and snow, it was messy for any driver unlucky enough to be out in it.

  The highway leading back from Star Valley, about fifty miles from Jackson Hole, was dicey. Most of the deputies lived there and drove that distance to work. They couldn’t afford the posh digs of the rich and famous who had taken over the sleepy ranching town of Jackson Hole. Cade considered himself lucky: his parents were from a long line of cattle ranchers come from earlier trappers. He had a home on their ranch, and it was a short drive from there to the sheriff’s office.

  Cade looked at his rearview mirror and didn’t see any traffic. As he drove slowly up around the mountains, with the river on the other side of the roadway, Cade focused on his driving. Rounding a curve, he saw a dark SUV that had skidded into the jagged mountain cliff. Next to it, a car with its flashing lights was parked. Though visibility was poor, he noticed a woman in a black coat at the driver’s side of the smashed SUV. She was trying desperately to open the vehicle’s door.

  After flipping on his lights, Cade quickly called in his position and requested an ambulance. As he drove closer, his heart began to pound with dread. He knew this kind of scene far too well. Worse, he recognized the dark blue Chevy SUV up ahead. It looked like Tom Hartmann�
��s vehicle. Tom, his best friend and a deputy, had been killed six months earlier in a shoot-out with drug dealers driving through Star Valley with their cocaine.

  Cade tried to bury the memory as he pulled up to the other side of the wrecked vehicle. As he passed it, he saw the familiar license plate and a new wave of pain flooded him. It was Hartmann’s SUV and his widow, Lily, was the driver. Was their infant, Jenny, in there, too? Another nightmare, the one from two years ago, threatened to stagger Cade to the point where he couldn’t think straight. He was a deputy sheriff. He should know to stay calm during this kind of crisis. But he’d lost too much. Wrenching the wheel, he placed his vehicle on the upside of the wreck so no car coming around the curve would run into it.

  Cade grabbed his coat and radioed in once more to the dispatcher. He gave the information about Lily Hartmann’s car and asked for a fire truck. Choking on bile, Cade swung the door open, unlatched his seat belt and pulled on his heavy nylon jacket. He ran carefully on the side of the road, mud splattering across his polished black boots, and aimed for the driver’s side of the door.

  As Cade rounded the SUV, he saw the woman in the black wool coat and a red knit cap trying to tug open the smashed door. With his flashlight, he approached.

  “I’m Deputy Garner, Ma’am. Step aside so I can see what’s going on…”

  Rachel willingly leaped back. She’d cut her hand on the twisted metal. It was dark. All she could see were the blazing lights of the sheriff’s cruiser on the other side. The man was tall, his voice deep and calm. “I—I’m so glad you’re here. I was following this SUV and it suddenly swerved and crashed into this cliff.”

  Cade barely heard the shaken woman’s hoarse voice, but he was aware of the terror in her large eyes. The door couldn’t be opened unless they used the Jaws of Life. The fire department carried two sets and they would bring them out. The window, however, was smashed in. As he flashed the light into the cab, a scream lurched into his throat, but Cade swallowed the sound.

  Lily Hartmann, the wife of his best friend, lay bloody and unconscious, the air bag half empty on top of her. She hadn’t worn her seat belt. Cade saw the hole in the window above the steering wheel. Lily had struck with such impact that her head had gone through the windshield. He thrust his hand through the shattered window and placed his fingers on her neck, searching for a pulse. As he shifted the light, Lily’s black hair shone across her white, still face.

  Oh, God, she’s dead….

  “There’s a baby in the backseat!” the woman cried with renewed urgency. “You have to help the baby! I can’t get the door open!”

  Shaken, Cade combatted his personal horror over Lily’s death. Nothing would bring her back. He had to act now! He jerked his hand out of the window and twisted around. As he moved swiftly to the other side of the vehicle where the other door might open, the woman followed him closely.

  Cade remembered Tom and Lily, before they married, asking if he would be the godfather to their children. They’d witnessed the devastation of Cade’s world, the loss of his wife, and wanted everything in place should something terrible happen to them. Cade had agreed to be their godfather. He’d never thought he’d ever have to make good on it.

  “Hold the light,” Cade commanded the unknown woman. After he thrust the flashlight into her hands, he gripped the handle on the door and jerked hard. It gave, and then, with more effort, Cade was able to pry the back door open just enough to get into it to see how the baby was doing. He breathed hard, his heart pounding with anguish as he wedged himself into the vehicle where Lily had put her daughter in the car seat. Tiny Jenny Hartmann with her black hair and blue eyes blinked up at him. With the light flashing into the backseat, the baby began to cry.

  “Thank God,” Cade whispered unsteadily. His hands shook as he disconnected the harness from around Jenny. Turning, he called out, “I’m bringing out the baby. She looks okay. I’m going to bundle her up and we’ll all go to my cruiser. It’s warm in there. Okay?”

  “Y-yes…I’m so glad she’s all right. What about the mother?”

  “Dead,” Cade answered, his voice flat.

  “Oh, no…” she whispered, her hand across her mouth.

  Cade turned and gently eased his large hands down around the well-bundled Jenny. As soon as he picked her up, she stopped crying, her eyes huge. He cradled her snugly into the crook of his right arm. Opening his jacket, he nestled the three-month-old into the folds for warmth and protection against the falling snow.

  “I’m backing out,” he called to the woman over his shoulder. Immediately, she stepped away, keeping the flashlight trained so that he could ease out of the vehicle.

  The woman stood mostly in shadow but he could clearly see the strain on her oval face, her full lips pursed and eyes dark with worry. “Come on,” he urged her, “follow me…”

  Rachel followed and kept the beam of light in front of the deputy. He walked as if he were stepping across eggs, his precious cargo in his arms. The baby was completely protected by his dark brown nylon jacket, but she no longer had a mother. It was beyond tragic. Rachel felt tears jam into her eyes and quickly swallowed them.

  “Open the passenger-side door,” Cade ordered her. They walked on the berm next to the cliff. Cade didn’t want to take a chance of trying to climb into the driver’s side with the baby. If a car came around that corner, it could clip him and kill both of them on a night like this.

  Rachel pulled it open. “Now what?”

  “Get in. I’m going to hand you the baby once you’re inside. Then, I’ll go to the other side of my cruiser and get in.”

  Rachel climbed into the passenger seat. She left the flashlight on the dashboard so the deputy had light and they both could see. She watched as he tenderly brought out the baby wrapped in a pink, yellow and green quilt. Opening her arms, Rachel received the infant.

  “I’ve got her,” she quavered. A baby in her arms for the first time. Images of lying in the hospital dazed and wanting to hold her Sarah flashed through Rachel’s mind. Gently, she adjusted the baby into her arms. The deputy closed the door. She watched him walk around his cruiser.

  Cade climbed in and immediately radioed what had happened. The dispatcher told him help was on the way and it would take at least thirty minutes to get there due to the icy conditions on the highway. He turned up the heater and pressed on console lights. The darkness disappeared. Turning, he looked into the eyes of the woman who had been the first on scene. She held Jenny in her arms and gently rocked her. The infant had closed her eyes. Her tiny hands were visible beneath the sleeves of a crocheted pink sweater that Lily had made for the christening. Cade wanted to cry for the little girl.

  Jenny was now without parents. Cade knew Tom and Lily had both been adopted only children and there was no family to take Jenny. That was why they had wanted Cade as the legal guardian for Jenny if the worst happened. The adoptive parents had agreed to Tom and Lily’s request. Legal papers had been signed. Well, it had happened. Mind spinning with the implications, Cade realized he was a father…again.

  “Let’s see if Jenny is okay,” he murmured, holding out his hands. “She was strapped in the right way, but I want to make sure nothing’s broken. The ambulance is on its way, but it will take at least thirty minutes under these weather conditions to arrive on scene.”

  “Of course,” Rachel said. She managed a nervous smile. “I’m glad you’re trained because I’m not.” She passed Jenny to the deputy.

  Cade carefully began unwrapping the infant who now stared up at him with curious eyes. Jenny recognized his voice. She should. He’d been a daily fixture in the Hartmann home. He’d wanted to be around Jenny as well as support Lily, who had been very depressed since Tom’s death. The baby, miraculously, had made Cade feel again. She helped him want to live once more, rather than just exist like a robot going through the motions. Lily seemed to have realized that and urged Cade to come over and simply hold Jenny and rock her. He’d taken over as a pseudo father an
d was determined to help Lily through this terrible period of loss and grief. He pulled out of his own mire of sadness and focused on the heroic woman sitting beside him. “What’s your name?” he asked.

  “Rachel Carson.” She watched as the large hands of the deputy carefully pulled the quilt aside. “I just landed at Cheyenne airport and rented a car to drive out here.”

  “In the middle of this storm?” Cade gave her a glance. Obviously, she wasn’t from Wyoming or would have known to stay put in Cheyenne until the front passed and the roads were cleared by the snow plows.

  “I didn’t know. This is my first time out west.”

  Nodding, Cade muttered, “Well, can you tell me what happened here?” Jenny began to coo as he gently took each small arm and tenderly tested it. She was cute in the pink crocheted sweater and trouser set. His worry over the baby receded. She seemed fine.

  “I was driving up the mountain at a very slow speed,” Rachel said, gesturing out into the blackness. “This SUV came out of nowhere and passed me going pretty fast. It scared the crap out of me before it disappeared. When I crept around this corner, the SUV had already smashed into the side of the cliff. I got out, ran over and tried to help.”

  “You did what you could,” Cade said, his tone heavy. He wrapped Jenny back up in the blanket. There was so much to do. “Want to hold her again? Her name is Jenny Hartmann.”

  Surprised, Rachel nodded. “Sure. How could you know her name?”

  “Long story,” Cade grunted. He took the flashlight off the dash and said, “I have to be outside for a bit. Just remain in here. Okay?” He eased out of the cab and shut the door.

  Rachel was happy to stay where it was warm and safe. Jenny felt good in her arms. Protectively, she nestled the cotton quilt around the baby’s head to keep her warm. Rocking her, Rachel felt as if she were still in deep shock. Yet, there was a baby in her arms. Alive. Jenny smiled up at her and cooed. This was a happy baby, one who would never see her mother again. Eyes closed, Rachel fought back so many of her own suppressed emotions. Her welcome to Jackson Hole had been a horror. She hadn’t wanted to come here anyway, but Brenda had left her no choice. It was one hell of a welcome. And on Christmas Eve, to boot. How depressing.