Compromised Identity

by Jodie Bailey

  Sean shook his head. “I’m not taking the chance of tipping somebody off. You recognize the number?”

  The phone stopped ringing as Jessica stepped closer. “Bring up the recent calls list.”

  Sean obliged, but he stopped in midswipe as the phone chimed once. His face tensed and he held out the phone for Jessica to read the screen. “They just wiped the email clean.”

  “What?” Jessica grabbed the phone and stared at the No Mail message.

  “I backed it up, so we haven’t lost anything but—”

  The phone pinged again, and Jessica flicked the screen to open a new message as Sean eased closer.

  Tell Staff Sergeant Turner an old friend says hello.

  Sean’s mouth pressed into a thin line, the edges whitening. He pulled the phone from her hand to focus on the words.

  “What’s wrong?” Jessica took a step closer, reaching out to touch his arm, but stood instead with her hand hovering between them. They didn’t know each other well enough for her to reach out to him, though every instinct in her urged the contact.

  “They know me.” His voice scraped over controlled emotions.

  “They know your name. It’s on your uniform. Anybody who sees you knows it.”

  He shook his head, finally lifting his gaze to look at her. His eyes were cold, hard. “No. They made a point to mention ‘an old friend’ in that message...” He stepped back and tensed. “They want me to know they don’t only know my name. They know who I am.”

  FOUR

  Somehow they know who I am. It had been two hours, and still Sean’s words chased each other in Jessica’s head.

  As the clock edged closer to five, Jessica settled in her seat, pressing her back hard against the gray plastic. The ID card facility at the Soldier Support Center was hopping with soldiers trying to get minor issues squared away for themselves and their family members.

  This was not exactly where she wanted to be right now. As much as she tried to make conversation with the young wife next to her, her mind kept wondering if the analysis on the powder in her drink had come back, if someone was really going to try again to kill her and how the sender of that text message knew Sean Turner.

  His composure had cracked at the words, coming back together quickly when he realized she’d noticed. Still, she couldn’t forget that look, that quick flash of something she couldn’t quite figure out.

  Beside her, Ellen Johnson frowned, then smiled slightly. “Thanks for helping me put together all of this paperwork. There are so many hoops to jump through with Garrett deployed. I’m scared to death I’m going to do the wrong thing and someone will yell at me or something.”

  The young wife was like a dozen others Jessica had met over her time in the Army. Young soldiers, panicking about deployment, would marry their girlfriends, move them on to a new post and leave them for parts around the world almost before the ink was dry on their marriage licenses. Jessica half understood it, that need to have someone waiting at home, that drive to protect the ones they loved by making sure they had the benefit of insurance should anything happen. Still, it always chafed her a bit when the guys did that, because so many wives were still children themselves, barely eighteen and pulled away from their families to live in a strange place while they worried daily about the men they loved. Some of them, like Ellen, might have been better off staying home with their parents during the deployment. The dream of making a home with a young soldier was often a whole lot more romantic than the reality.

  Jessica shoved aside her thoughts and prayed they didn’t read on her face. She dragged the toe of her boot across the dark flecks in the floor as she sat taller. “You’re not the first to lose an ID card while her husband is away.” Murphy’s Law always seemed to kick in when the soldiers left, with something—or someone—getting lost or broken almost immediately. “I’m just glad I was able to help.”

  “You didn’t have to stay and wait with me. I know this isn’t exactly under your job description.” The younger woman pushed straight blond hair behind her ear and smiled, her gray eyes not quite receiving the message. “I appreciate it. I’m not quite sure what all of the drama with my point of contact was, but she didn’t make me very comfortable asking her questions.” Ellen stopped to listen as another number was called, then tightened her hold on the boho purse in her lap. “It’s intimidating here, all of these soldiers in one place.”

  “Friction happens. Where’d you grow up?”

  “Michigan. Not exactly a lot of military bases up there.” Ellen waved a hand that encompassed the whole room, then dropped it back into her lap. “This is a totally different world, not just the Army and the South, but being married and everything.”

  “I’ll bet.”

  “I’ll be okay if you leave when they call me back.”

  Jessica fought the urge to check her watch. The girls in her Bible study would get to her house around seven o’clock, and if she had any prayer of having dinner ready, she’d have to get out of here in the next fifteen minutes. Still, the last thing she ever wanted to do was telegraph that impatience to Ellen. “Are you sure?”

  “When I’m done, I can walk right out of here that way.” She pointed to a door behind them. “I just go through those doors and I’m home free for the lobby and the parking lot, right?”

  Jessica nodded. “Right.” She surveyed the room, unable to shake the feeling that had plagued her for the past ten minutes, as if eyes she couldn’t see were watching her. She was probably just jumpy after the past two days and her time with Sean Turner. The things he was saying were incredible, but the more he talked, the more she found herself believing him.

  It didn’t help that she was remembering more details about yesterday. Either that or she was dreaming. It had better not be the latter. If she wasn’t careful, she’d start having nightmares. She shuddered and caught her lower lip between her teeth, letting go just as quickly. Projecting weakness was one of those things she hated the most, and biting her lip was a tell for sure. Her father had chastised her for it often.

  She sat taller, much preferring the vision of Sean Turner’s blue eyes to the dark, menacing ones of the man who’d approached her with a knife. She shouldn’t think of the Staff Sergeant that way, though. There was a wariness to him, a way that he had of seeming vigilant at all times. Turner had trouble written all over him; she just couldn’t pinpoint why.

  Best not to think about those eyes or that incredibly cute just-over-regulation-length dirty blond hair of his. It wasn’t often, even with the Special Forces unit on Campbell, that she got to see a guy with actual hair on his head.

  Tossing her head, Jessica surveyed the few people still waiting in the rows of gray chairs as the clock ticked nearer to close of business. At the reception window, a man turned his head quickly, the motion catching her eye. She stared hard, waiting for him to turn back around. Did she know him? Something about the brief glimpse of his face was vaguely familiar. She ran through a roster of the soldiers in her unit, but none seemed to fit his description, and besides, the majority of them were deployed.

  He glanced back at her again, giving her a better view of his face as his dark eyes met hers, glittering in recognition. Rather than hail her, though, he stared hard, seeming to memorize the lines on her face. Even from across the room, he chilled the blood just beneath her skin.

  As if confirming something in his mind, he turned from her, then walked away, straight across the room and out the door.

  The tension in her muscles relaxed. Her imagination was hyped into overdrive today Although she couldn’t shake the feeling she’d seen that man before, the image was right on the edge of her memory yet refusing to gel.

  Ellen stood, breaking Jessica’s concentration, and lifted her purse as she tilted her head to the oversize TV screen above the door that led to the main ID facility. “M
y number just came up. I go through that door, right?”

  Jessica stood. “Yep. Are you sure you don’t want me to go back with you.”

  “I’m fine now. It was just kind of nerve-racking at first, afraid I’d do the wrong thing after they turned me away and told me I needed more paperwork last time.” She reached to give Jessica a sideways hug, then stopped, opting for a small wave instead. “Thank you, Staff Sergeant Dylan. You’re a lifesaver.” Ellen was gone before the words were fully out of her mouth.

  Not for the first time, a sparse loneliness brushed Jessica’s heart. She felt so out of place sometimes as a woman on an Army post. Pulling her beret from her side leg pocket, she ran it through her fingers and headed up the hallway toward the exit. Sure she had friends, but whenever she put on the uniform, something seemed to happen. Other women never seemed to know how to react around her, seemed to forget she was a female who’d appreciate a hug and girl talk just as much as the rest of them. Just because she was a soldier, it didn’t make her any less of a woman.

  Though the balance was tough. She had to be strong enough to hang with the boys but woman enough to be one of the girls. She pressed her lips together as she pushed out the door into the cold, gray fall afternoon, grinding her black beret tight onto her head. On days like today, when her life was spinning in strange directions and she wanted to do the perceived “girl” thing and break down over all that had happened, the tightrope was even harder to walk.

  At the end of the duty day on the Tuesday before Thanksgiving, the parking lot was virtually empty, only a handful of other cars filling the spaces. It appeared everybody else wanted what she wanted. Home.

  She checked her watch again as she headed for the far end of the parking lot. If she could get there in the next half hour, dinner for her Bible study girls would be right on schedule. It would take a run of green lights to get her that far that fast, though. Some days, living closer to post would be a blessing.

  Pulling her keys from her pocket, Jessica clicked the door locks on her small gray sedan, her steps slowing as she drew closer. The car click of the locks was muted, the sound it made when it was already unlocked. She vividly remembered locking it because a young private had jumped ten feet in the air when the horn blasted as she did. Normally, she wouldn’t think twice but today—something seemed off, that gut feeling she often got when things in her world just weren’t right.

  Then again, her radar had to be out of whack with Sean Turner feeding her ghost stories. That man was messing with her head in more ways than one. Shaking off the chill that tried to claw up her spine, Jessica pulled open the car door and glanced into the backseat as the lights illuminated the interior.

  A man crouched low behind the driver’s seat. Dark eyes glittered at her, more chilling than the air, the same eyes that had been locked on her in the waiting room. He lunged over the seat toward her, grasping the edge of her sleeve and pulling her forward.

  Jessica’s shoulder collided with the side of the car, the jolt to her already-injured muscles arcing through her to steal her breath. Her throat closed, trapping the scream that swelled and fought to escape. Digging in her heels, Jessica used her height advantage and threw her body backward, momentum causing her to stagger to the ground as the rough fabric of her uniform slipped through the man’s fingers. She hit hard, jarring her teeth together, scrambling to get up before the man could exit her vehicle and keep her down for good.

  The car door pushed open as Jessica rose to her knees, but another body charged in from her left, foot clipping her knee and buckling her helpless to the ground.

  * * *

  Sean dove at the door, catching it with his hands and landing on his side as it slammed shut on Jessica’s attacker. He rolled to his feet as the man in the vehicle scrambled out the passenger door and got a running start, Sean’s boots skidding on loose gravel as he scrambled up to pursue.

  The man leaped into a small SUV that sat waiting, door open and engine running, and skidded out of the parking lot as Sean pitched sideways to keep from being hit, sliding along the ground on his still-healing shoulder. He fought the intense desire to curl up against the pain, struggling to read the license plate of the fleeing vehicle. He was on his knees when Jessica thudded up beside him.

  Sean reached for his phone to call the military police, and then abandoned the idea within the next second. The gate to get off post was too close to their position. Before he got through to anyone, that vehicle would be long gone, and all he’d have was more attention turned on Jessica when this investigation still needed to be under wraps. Without knowing who was involved, he couldn’t call in help unless he needed backup or had a suspect in custody. He abandoned the idea and turned his attention to Jessica.

  She was pale, the hand she held out to him shaking.

  He wanted to ignore the help, to prove that he could do this all by himself, but he knew it would insult her if he didn’t accept it. The thread that held them together was tenuous enough already, and protecting it was worth the perceived bruise to his ego.

  She helped haul him to his feet as he winced against the pressure on his shoulder. Her gaze went there immediately, her hand following to rest on his upper arm. “Are you hurt?”

  “Old injury.” He shook off the warmth of her fingers before he could decide he liked it and turned the focus back where it belonged—on her. “Are you okay? What just happened?”

  “I opened my car door, and he was in there.” The statement might have been matter-of-fact, but the tension around her mouth telegraphed that this had upset her more than she was letting on. “I had the situation under control. Where did you come from?”

  From his car five spaces away from hers, but that probably wasn’t the right thing to say at the moment, not with Jessica bound and determined to take care of herself.

  He didn’t have to say a thing anyway. Her expression hardened. “You’re following me?”

  “And aren’t you glad?” Seriously. She could at least be a little bit appreciative that he’d saved her life. Again.

  “I’d be happier if you hadn’t let the guy get away.”

  The words were born more out of adrenaline than malice and Sean knew it, but they still cut. Had he been more vigilant, he’d have seen the warning signs. Had he been quicker, he’d have arrived in time to see the guy crawl into her car, not three minutes before she left the building.

  Then again, had he been three minutes later...

  He shook off the thought of Jessica dead in the parking lot with a broken neck, a stab wound or worse. He’d made it in time. She just needed to understand how vital it was for someone to have her back. If this didn’t convince her the danger was real, protecting her and getting to the bottom of this mess was only going to get harder.

  Reaching out to lay a hand on her arm, he turned her toward his car. “Let’s get out of the middle of the parking lot. You can wait in my truck while I clear your vehicle.”

  She stopped, pulling away from his grasp. “Wait?” She threw a hand out toward Clarksville. “No. I have dinner tonight for the college girls in my Bible study. We get together before Thanksgiving and—”

  “Whoa.” Sean held up a hand to stop the flow of words. She’d lost her mind if she thought she was going to up and leave a crime scene before they’d done all they could do to catch the man who likely would have killed her. “No leaving until the techs get here. And no Bible study at all, not until we know you’re safe.”

  She opened her mouth to protest, but he shook his head. “Cancel it. The last thing you need is to put someone else in danger because they’re at your house when the bad guys show up. I can’t let you do that.”

  Her mouth closed, and she at least appeared to be considering his words. Denial could be stronger than common sense sometimes. In Jessica’s case, it seemed she carried a pretty hefty dose.

  Unfo
rtunately, Sean knew what a superhero complex coupled with denial could get you. A space in the hot seat staring a terrorist square in the eye. He’d rightly earned that seat by ignoring the signs that had led to his own kidnapping. He wasn’t going to let Jessica do the same, not if he could save her.

  Rather than reach for her arm and get rebuffed, Sean swept his hand toward his rental car. “I’d feel a whole lot better if you weren’t standing in the open right now.”

  He expected her to argue, but she fell into step beside him and crossed the remaining thirty yards to his vehicle. Just a short distance from the vehicle, she stopped. “I know that guy from somewhere.”

  Sean looked around but saw no one in the parking lot. “Which guy?”

  “The one in my car.”

  “Wait.” Sean stopped, pinning his hands to her shoulders so she’d look at him and not away as she had a habit of doing when she was cornered. “You know him?”

  “I don’t know his name, but he was in the ID card facility earlier when I was there and I wish...” She shook her head and balled her fists again, which seemed to be her trademark move when she was frustrated.

  Or scared.

  Sean watched her eyes as she talked. This had her spooked more than she would ever let on. Jessica Dylan did not have everything as held together as she tried to make it appear, but with her driven need to prove herself, she’d never give him the satisfaction of seeing her crumble.

  Fighting the totally inexplicable urge to draw her close, an urge brought on by her unexpected vulnerability, Sean dropped his hands and took a step back. “You wish what?”

  “Nothing. Just that I could figure out where I’ve seen him before today.”

  “So this isn’t the first time you’ve encountered this guy?” If the man had been following her before the incident yesterday, it was for certain this operation was much bigger and Jessica wasn’t a random target. “Think. Where?”