Assumed Identity

by Julie Miller

  “Morning paper?” Jake slipped the badge into his jeans pocket and opened the Kansas City Journal that he’d pulled from Robin’s mailbox during his early morning reconnaissance of the place.

  “Check page three. You’re getting to be a regular legend in the city.” Yeah, like a Bigfoot sighting.

  Jake tucked the phone between his shoulder and ear and spread the paper open on the coffee table. “Ah, hell.”

  There he was, in black and white. The bastard who’d taken his picture from the speeding car must have been Gabriel Knight. Or someone who’d sold the picture to the reporter. Is this the city’s unsung hero?

  The detective gave him a few seconds to let the image and caption below it sink in. “Looks like the Ghost Rescuer has finally been unmasked. Although it doesn’t look like Gabe Knight got a very flattering picture of you.”

  There were no flattering pictures of him. Jake quickly skimmed the article. Still no name listed, but if a blurry, nighttime photograph was enough for Spencer Montgomery to recognize him, then it wasn’t unreasonable to suspect that someone who knew him well would recognize him, too. It wasn’t exactly a forgettable face. Worse yet, with Robin’s Nest Floral Shop painted on the awning behind him, they’d know exactly where to come find him.

  Or who they could use to get to him.

  Jake closed the paper and pushed to his feet again. “Who called from the DEA?”

  “A Charlie Nash. You know him?”

  Jake tried to envision a name and a face. But all he came up with were blanks. “No.”

  The running water at the back of the house finally stopped. He could imagine Robin’s sleek, wet body stepping out of the shower. He could see her pale skin blushing pink as she toweled herself dry from head to toe. She was a practical, cotton pajama kind of woman, but he couldn’t imagine anything sexier than Robin Carter naked.

  And now he had to leave her.

  That would be what the cagey, self-preserving survivor in him would do. The DEA knew he was in Kansas City? Then he had to go. If he was on the DEA’s radar, he must be wanted for something.

  Emma squealed at his feet, excited by the red and blue animals swinging over her head. Jake knelt down beside her to still the hanging toys. She batted at his big finger and he turned it into her palm, letting her latch on and pull it to her mouth for a sweet, slobbery lick. She buzzed her lips against his skin and they both smiled.

  Right. Like he could leave this one alone and unprotected with a clear conscience.

  A sense of inevitable doom sank like a rock in Jake’s gut. The violence from his past was closing in, and now these two women might get caught in the retribution for whatever horrible things he’d done.

  “Agent Nash says he’s flying in later today from Houston. He wants to meet with you.”

  Montgomery had to be giving him a heads-up for a reason. Maybe he was fishing for information, too. “Did he say why?”

  “Nash said it had to do with an investigation he couldn’t discuss with me.” Jake stood at the detective’s telling pause. “Why would the DEA be interested in you, Mr. Lonergan?”

  “I honestly don’t know.”

  Jake pulled out the badge and traced his thumb over the letters that could have been carved in Cyrillic, for as much as they meant to him. He considered the passports in his bag that said he’d been in and out of the country several times—to countries with known drug trafficking. A tough guy—a killer—like him would be just the kind of enforcer any one of those cartels hired. His chest hurt. Two weeks ago, news like this would have sent him packing to a new town where he could hide until whoever was tracking him lost their lead and gave up.

  But two weeks ago, he had no ties to anyone. Two weeks ago, he hadn’t given his word that he’d keep the Carter girls safe.

  Two weeks ago, he hadn’t been in love.

  Ah, hell.

  “Lonergan?”

  “I’m here.”

  “Does Robin Carter know what kind of man you are?”

  After yesterday and last night, he didn’t suppose there were any more secrets between them. “Yeah.”

  “Do I need to advise you to walk away?”

  “Wouldn’t do you any good.” If the DEA could track him down, that meant others could, too. It also meant that whoever was terrorizing Robin might become harder to identify if there were more than one threat circling around them. “Montgomery?”

  “Yes?”

  “I promised Robin I’d provide protection for her until these threats stop and you catch the man who attacked her.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “If something should happen to me, would you be willing to supply back-up? I need to know they’ll be safe.”

  The detective held things pretty close to the vest, so it was hard to get a good read on whether he was an ally or an enemy. But Jake was betting that Montgomery would put solving his case ahead of whatever suspicions he might have about Jake. “You can call me. I have a feeling Ms. Carter is important to our task force investigation.”

  “Thanks.”

  “What should I tell Agent Nash when he shows up?”

  “Tell him I’m busy.”

  Jake disconnected the call and set the phone on the coffee table. He pulled out his go-bag and armed himself. Knife. Gun. Spare magazine in his pocket.

  “Jake? Did I hear the phone?” Robin appeared at the end of the hallway, wrapped up in a fuzzy white robe and towel drying her hair. “Has something happened?”

  “Are you sure you have to work that wedding today?”

  She draped the towel over her shoulder and went straight to Emma to pick her up. She hugged the baby protectively against her chest. “It’s my job. The Vanderhams are good customers. You didn’t answer my question. Did the person who’s been harassing me find my home number?”

  Thus far, the sicko calling Robin and sending her those threats had acted anonymously. Even the night she’d been assaulted, and when she’d been locked inside that refrigerator, the coward had waited until she was alone to attack. Surely, he wouldn’t change his MO now and try something with all the people who would be around her at a wedding.

  “No.” He threaded the knife sheath onto his belt while she waited for an explanation. He’d promised to answer her questions, but wasn’t sure if telling her the DEA was now looking for him would inspire the kind of trust he needed from her if the threat escalated and he needed to take action to keep her and Emma safe. He opted for a half truth. “Detective Montgomery called while you were in the shower.”

  “Did he find the man who attacked me?”

  “Not yet. But he did stress that you were important to his case. He wanted to make sure you had sufficient protection.”

  “I have you. Right?”

  Damn straight. He tucked the Beretta into the back of his belt, wanting quicker access to it than what the ankle holster allowed. “Can you take care of Emma now?”

  “Of course.”

  “Good.” He dropped a hard, far-too-brief kiss on her mouth and headed for front door. “Then I’m going to walk the grounds and check the car, make sure everything’s as secure as it needs to be while you get dressed.”

  She and Emma followed him right to the door. “You’re doing it again. What did Detective Montgomery say? Why are you arming yourself like this?”

  “You can’t change a man overnight, Robin.” As soon as the harsh tone left his mouth, Jake regretted it. He pulled his hand from the doorknob and touched her damp hair, apologizing. “You can’t...fix me. I got a feeling something bad is coming. You have to let me do what I know how to do.”

  * * *

  “OVER HERE, LEON.” Robin waved the man carrying the second part of the Vanderhams’ altar arrangement up to the front of the church. The younger man tilted his head to peek through the stand of red and white roses to find the step, and Robin hurried down to help him. She grabbed one end of the arrangement’s brass base and helped him steer around the pulpit. “This goes inside the r
ing I’ve already set up. Careful.”

  He heaved it onto the center of the altar. “Don’t let those cascading ones get caught underneath.”

  “Got it.” It took several more minutes to make sure all the flowers were set properly. Robin pulled out a couple of broken red stems. “We’ll need to replace these. Run out to the van and bring in the box of spares.”

  “Um...” Leon nervously ran his fingers inside the collar of his uniform. “There’s nothing else in the van. I must have forgotten that box.”

  “You forgot? I specifically wrote that down on the manifest. How many things have to disappear before—?” A muted rumble of thunder rattled the stained-glass windows and Robin shivered. Lordy, she was jumpy today. And she was already running behind schedule setting up for the ceremony.

  “I’m sorry, ma’am. Do you want me to drive back to the shop and get some?”

  Robin eased a calming breath through her nose. “No, I’m sorry. There isn’t time for that.” She glanced over at Emma in her carrier on the first pew, sleeping peacefully through the hubbub. Oh, to be stress-free like that right now. She turned to Leon and apologized again for snapping at him. “We’ll make do.”

  True, setting up for the Vanderhams’ renewal ceremony required a lot of work in a short time frame, but that wasn’t why she was so short-tempered this afternoon. She glanced to the back of the church where Jake stood outside in the lobby by the front doors, keeping an eye on both the interior and exterior of the building. Beyond the church’s open front door, the overcast sky threatened rain, driving some early arrivals inside the lobby, where they mingled, waiting until her staff cleared the sanctuary. More people for Jake to watch and worry about, she supposed. Maybe that explained the grim impatience lining his features.

  His ice-blue gaze met hers. He held up his wrist and pointed to his watch. Right. He was antsy about something she was certain he hadn’t shared with her. That hyperalertness made her edgy, too. Maybe she should give Detective Montgomery a call to find out just what he had discussed with Jake to send him into commando mode.

  She turned back to Leon and smiled. “I’ll pull stems out of the back and fill in where they’ll show in the wedding pictures.” What was one missing box of long-stemmed red roses, anyway? In her mind, the decorations already looked like the floral blanket awarded to a Kentucky Derby winner, so it wasn’t like she didn’t have enough flowers to work with. “I’ll take care of this. Go ahead and start cleaning things up. The wedding starts in an hour.”

  Leon quickly gathered up all the discarded tissue paper that had been wrapped around the arrangements. She couldn’t blame him for being eager to leave. “Anything else?”

  “Maybe check with Mark to see if he needs help?” She nodded toward the offices turned dressing rooms on the far side of the lobby. “He should be delivering the bouquets by now.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Do you want me to go ahead and close up the van and move it?” He was looking toward the front doors, too, where a couple had just stepped in with an umbrella. “It’s starting to rain.”

  “Sure.” She watched him drop the wad of tissue onto the plastic drop cloth they’d put down to protect the carpet while they set up. He’d rolled up the plastic about halfway down the aisle when Robin realized something was off. “Wait.” She counted off the sprays of roses and carnations decorating the end of each pew. “You said the van was empty?”

  Leon’s green eyes narrowed. He was getting defensive again. “Yeah?”

  She pointed to the remaining rows of undecorated pews. “Where are the rest of my flowers? Does Mark have them in the back somewhere?”

  “I can ask him.”

  “Never mind. You finish here and take care of the van. I’ll find Mark.”

  Robin cursed the ticking clock and hurried down the aisle ahead of Leon. As soon as she stepped onto the marble tiles in the lobby, Jake moved from his post. He wrapped his hand around her elbow and pulled her away from the people coming in the front door.

  “Are we done?” he asked. A couple of twentysomething women pointed to Jake, although he didn’t seem to notice. But when one of them whispered the phrase, “Ghost Rescuer,” his grip tightened and his shoulders expanded with a controlled breath. “I’m ready to leave anytime.”

  “Not yet.” Robin pulled her arm from his grasp and searched the gathering crowd. “I promise I’m moving as fast as I can. I need to find my assistant.”

  “Bow-tie guy?”

  Robin swung her gaze up at the apt description. “Yes. Mark. Have you seen him?”

  He pointed to one of the two closed doors at the south end of the lobby. “Ladies’ dressing room.”

  “Thanks.” When Jake fell into step behind her, Robin turned and braced a hand at the center of his chest, offering him a wry smile. “Ladies’ dressing room,” she emphasized.

  No wonder he was so eager to follow her. The two women weren’t the only ones who’d noticed the big man dressed in jeans and a black T-shirt at the formal event. Robin observed at least two other groups chatting and pointing. Either they recognized Jake from that unfortunate picture in the newspaper this morning, or they were simply curious about why a man like him was attending a Kansas City society event. At least she’d convinced him to return his weapons out of sight beneath his pant leg, or else they’d really be talking. Or calling 911.

  “Sorry about all this.” She knew the spotlight was the last place where this man wanted to be. She gave him a way out for a few moments. “I left Emma sleeping up front. Do you mind getting her so she’s not by herself?”

  “Where will you be?”

  “Tracking down someone who’s not doing his job. Don’t worry. I won’t leave the church.”

  Robin dodged out of the way of flinging raindrops as a man in a pinstriped suit shook off his umbrella just inside the front door. Brian Elliott. Of course he’d show up at a gathering like this. Half his investment business was to see and be seen by Kansas City’s wealthiest and most influential people. She recognized the woman with him as his executive assistant. Robin exchanged a polite wave and kept moving. She didn’t need the kind of drama or delays Brian could bring into her life right now if she stopped for a conversation.

  She’d been through two of the three carved-panel doors earlier in the day, helping the groomsmen pin on their boutonnieres and delivering the rosebuds Chloe Vanderham’s hairdresser was pinning to her hair. Robin knocked on the last door, expecting to step inside to find gushing bridesmaids and Chloe’s mother helping the bride get into her celebration gown.

  Instead, she found three women in pink dresses and the mother of the bride standing in a circle around Mark Riggins, talking over each other as they looked at the pictures he was showing them on his phone.

  “That’s pretty.”

  “How about something for a dinner party?”

  “All I need is the color palette or theme you want.”

  “I can get it for that price?”

  “Mark?” Robin interrupted. “What are you doing? We’re not finished in the sanctuary.” She nosed her way in to Mark, dispersing the group. “Do you have the rest of those flower sprays?”

  Mark shut down the internet connection on his phone, but not before she’d gotten a glimpse of the bouquet he’d been showing them. He tucked the phone into his shirt pocket and patted Robin on the shoulder. “Relax, boss lady. Chloe ordered twelve sprays of roses. I put up twelve sprays.”

  “I’m sure it was twelve down each side,” she argued in a hushed voice.

  “Twenty-four?” He shook his head, gently correcting her. “Your order said twelve.”

  No. Robin was certain that Chloe’s ruby-red excess had demanded flowers on each and every pew. She knew she’d been distracted with the assault and subsequent threats, but she’d also been a successful businesswoman for several years now. Success didn’t happen if she made costly mistakes like writing orders incorrectly.

  Still, in front of the client wasn’t the place to decide w
hether she was losing her business acumen—or whether she was losing it, period. Robin inhaled a deep breath and tugged Mark toward the door. “Then come help Leon clean up. The ushers are already out there, ready to seat people.”

  One of the attendants in pink stopped them on their way out the door. “Mark, do you have another card?” She hurried after them, waving a business card. “I can share them with my friends.”

  Business card?

  “May I?” Robin borrowed the woman’s card and read the decorative script. Mark Riggins: Affordable Flowers for Any Occasion. “What is this? This is your own website.”

  Mark glanced over his shoulder at the guests in the lobby and tried to push Robin back into the dressing room. “It’s just a mockup of a card I designed.”

  Robin planted her feet in the doorway and held her ground. “You’re working for me, but promoting your own business at a Robin’s Nest Floral event? Oh, my God. You never talked to the distributor, did you? Have you been stealing my product and selling it as your own?”

  Three pink ladies and a glaring Chloe Vanderham gathered to watch the confrontation.

  “You’re overreacting.” Mark pulled his card from Robin’s hand and handed it back to the attendant. “Can we have this discussion in private?”

  “How is finding out that you’ve been stealing from me and my shop overreacting?”

  With a noisy huff, Mark grabbed Robin’s arm and dragged her into the empty office next door. “You’re making a scene.”

  A public argument at an event like this wouldn’t be good for her business, either. Robin shoved her fingers through her hair and paced across the small office to the edge of the desk there. “Please, Mark. We’ve been friends for a long time. Do you deny it?”

  He locked the door and followed her to the desk without denying a thing. “It’s not that big a deal. I’ve borrowed a few items from the stockroom. I had some successful events while you were gone with the baby. It’s good publicity for your shop.”