Concealed Identity. Jessica R. Patch

ONE

       TWO

       THREE

       FOUR

       FIVE

       SIX

       SEVEN

       EIGHT

       NINE

       TEN

       ELEVEN

       TWELVE

       THIRTEEN

       FOURTEEN

       FIFTEEN

       EPILOGUE

       Extract

       Copyright

       ONE

      Blair Sullivan glanced in the side-view mirror of her company’s box truck. The dark SUV seemed a little too close for comfort, and with her past, she wasn’t taking any chances. Not when the windows were tinted far beyond the legal limit. It looked exactly like the types of vehicles she’d ridden in over the years.

      And no one good had ever been inside.

      Pulse skittering, she laid on the gas while her sister, Gigi, obliviously switched radio stations and rambled about lunch destination choices. She must have pressed the pause button with her on-again, off-again boyfriend who co-owned the Black-Eyed Pea. That was where they normally ate their meals, since neither had mastered the kitchen, unless peanut butter and jelly counted.

      “It’s hotter than blue blazes.” Gigi lifted her hair, a shade lighter and a few inches shorter than Blair’s, from her neck. “You notice Mr. Hollywood noticing you at the auction this morning? Because I did. I also noticed you noticing him.”

      Could she use notice in a sentence one more time?

      Blair’s stomach roiled as she glanced in her side-view mirror again. The SUV continued to follow. Could be paranoia. She’d been looking over her shoulder since her late husband, Mateo, was gunned down in Colombia. Not long after their wedding, she’d discovered he was a drug lord in a major cartel and not the man she’d believed him to be. But at that point, it was too late to get out alive. Blair had shielded Gigi from that world of fear, and she wasn’t about to pull her into it now.

      It’s a casual drive home. Act normal.

      A few cars sped by. Not much traffic this Saturday morning. Her heart rate continued to elevate as memories surfaced, but she forced herself to engage in conversation. “He wasn’t noticing me. He was watching to see if I’d keep bidding on the storage unit.” He had been attractive, though. Built like a superhero made of steel. Dark scruff that did little to hide the deep dimple in his squared chin.

      Okay, so she’d noticed. Every woman at the storage unit auction had perked up when he had swaggered onto the scene. Not just because he was movie star good-looking, but he was new to the monthly auctions. “That reminds me, did you see Ronnie Lawson or hear him mention he wouldn’t be there today?”

      The SUV continued to ride her bumper. She was going seventy!

      “How does Mr. Hollywood even remotely remind you of Ronnie?” She snorted. “I didn’t hear jack, but I know you’d have lost that unit if he had. He seems to enjoy outbidding you.” Gigi paused, her dark eyes concerned. “Hey, you okay? You look wigged out.”

      Blair cleared her throat. “I’m fine.” She breathed evenly, pasted a fake smile on her face and hammered the gas pedal as she exited the ramp onto the outskirts of her small town of Hope, Tennessee. The place where she’d started over. Where her grandparents had lived most of their lives. The only place Blair had ever felt safe and at home. “Just feeling buyer’s remorse. I may have paid more than I should for that unit.”

      She’d hoped the SUV wouldn’t have taken the ramp, too. But it had. What to do... What to do...

      “You’ll know once you get home and inventory everything. So, about the guy. He looked exactly like Superman. Coal-black hair. And those eyes. No one has eyes that blue but Superman.”

      At twenty-six, and two years younger than Blair, Gigi acted more like fifteen. She wasn’t going to let up on the hot topic. Mystery Auction Man was no Superman. Superman didn’t hold wildfire in his eyes. Red flags had flown high. She’d been duped by charm and good looks before and ended up marrying the man behind them. Never again. No more falling for liars and men who pretended to be one thing when they were something else entirely.

      Blair changed lanes, the SUV stayed in the right one. Okay, maybe she was being paranoid after all. A few cars zinged by, leaving the bypass she was now on empty. Only them and the SUV.

      “Fine,” Gigi said, “if you don’t want to talk about Mr. Hollywood, let’s talk about our brother. You heard from him?”

      Another flop of her stomach. Jeremy hadn’t called or answered any of her texts and voice mails in several days. It wasn’t like she could pop on over to his apartment, since he lived in Memphis, though she’d tried to get him to move to Hope. Closer to her and Gigi since their father traveled regularly now that he was retired. Right now he was off in the West Indies and her brother was AWOL. Surely Jeremy hadn’t relapsed. He’d been doing so well. Lord, please keep Jeremy out of trouble again. Watch over him.

      The SUV changed lanes and zoned in on her bumper. Blair white-knuckled the steering wheel and slid her upper lip into her mouth, concentrating. Thinking. Praying. Lord, let me simply be paranoid. She shifted back into the right lane, hoping the driver was in a hurry and would pass her.

      Please. Please. Please.

      Pulse pounding as they shifted in behind her, Blair inhaled and exhaled. “Can you turn the radio down?” She couldn’t think straight. Her head buzzed.

      “Why?” Gigi lowered the volume but huffed. “Blair, what’s wrong with you?”

      The SUV rammed the back of her truck.

      Gigi squealed. “What was that?”

      “Sit tight.” Blair increased speed. Nothing but fields for miles on their way home. Of course, she wasn’t dumb enough to try to make it there and lead her pursuer to the house, but she didn’t know