Assumed Identity. Julie Miller

uptown neighborhood.

      As if to emphasize the danger, a bolt of lightning zapped across the sky and a crack of thunder split the air, startling Robin and instantly pricking the hairs beneath the sleeves of the blue oxford blouse she wore. She crossed her arms and inhaled deeply, fighting off the chill that seemed to creep right through the glass to raise goose bumps on her skin.

      As her eyes readjusted to the darkness, Robin detected a subtle movement in the shadows across the street. She braced one hand against the cool, damp glass and leaned closer, squinting to bring the lone figure, with shoulders hunched against the rain, into focus. Lightning flashed again and Robin caught a glimpse of the slender figure darting beneath the awning above the front entrance to the bridal shop. A coat or dress swung around the shadow’s knees.

      A woman. Alone on a night like this. Robin’s heart knotted with concern. “Oh, sweetie. Be safe.”

      The woman pulled a hand from her pocket and brushed her straight, wet hair off her pale face. Then she lifted her head and looked straight at Robin. Maybe. The shop was dark and the nearest streetlight was farther down near the parking lot entrance. Robin should be nothing more than a shadow herself.

      But the young woman’s dark eyes never seemed to blink. She stared so hard that she must be seeing Robin watching her.

      Robin breathed one moment of uncomfortable trepidation beneath the imagined scrutiny. In the next breath, she considered unlocking the front door and inviting the stranded woman inside the shop where she’d be warm and safe. Robin moved to the front door, pulled the keys from her pocket. Then the lightning flashed again.

      But when Robin blinked her eyes back into focus in the darkness, the young woman was gone.

      “Where...?” The woman must have found enough respite to gather her courage and run off in the rain and shadows to her destination again. “Be safe,” Robin whispered again.

      She needed to do the same. Robin shook off her apprehension about her books, the stormy weather and those mysterious shadows outside and returned to her office. “I’m back, sweetie.”

      She was greeted by a soft suckling sound that gave her hope that a ride in the car would coax Emma into a deep sleep that would last for five or six hours—long enough to get a decent rest herself so she could tackle the problems at work with a fresh eye in the morning. Smiling at her daughter’s resilience, Robin picked her up from the bassinet and strapped her into her carrier. She thanked Emma for her patience with a gentle kiss to her forehead and then slipped a yellow knit cap over her hair and covered her with the blanket. Certain her daughter was warm and secure, Robin pulled the cloth protector over the carrier and closed the round viewing vent over Emma’s face to shield her from the rain.

      Before turning out the lights, Robin pulled on her yellow raincoat, slipped the diaper bag over her shoulders and picked up Emma’s carrier. Since she’d put away her pepper spray two months earlier, not wanting to risk any accidental contact with her baby’s delicate skin, Robin pulled a security whistle from the pocket of her slicker and looped the lanyard around her neck. Then they were moving through the familiar hallway and workrooms to the employee entrance from the parking lot beside the restored redbrick building.

      With the steel door locked solidly behind her, Robin waited a moment beneath the green-and-white-striped awning above the entrance, assessing her surroundings. Pulses of lightning lit up the clouds in the skies overhead, giving her brief flashes of the rain and night around her.

      Although the small lot was well lit, the emptiness between the brick walls of her building and the next one on the opposite side of the lot hitched up her apprehension a bit. Besides the shop’s delivery van, parked near the alley behind the building at the end of the loading dock, the only car left was hers, parked in a circle of light beneath the lamppost nearest the street. Lights were working; doors were locked. Street-level shops were closed and the storm seemed to have driven any tenants who lived on the upper floors of the neighborhood high-rises inside.

      Still, the rain hitting the awning over her head and rhythmic rumbles of thunder drowned out any telltale sounds that would alert her to approaching footsteps on the sidewalk or to vehicles passing on the street. She knew that, despite all her precautions, there was an inherent danger to a woman walking to her vehicle alone at night in the city. It required a deep, fortifying breath and the knowledge that she had a child to protect from the elements for Robin to pull her hood up over her chin-length hair, stick the whistle in her mouth and step out into the rain.

      With her head slightly bowed against the rain drumming on her slicker, Robin hurried across the lot. Hugging Emma’s carrier in the crook of her elbow, she made sure there was no one hiding beneath or around her car before tapping the remote and unlocking the doors.

      As challenging as it had been at first to learn all the buckles and straps and tabs and slots of loading Emma into her car seat, Robin now made quick work of opening the back door and sliding the carrier into place. Once everything had locked and the car seat was secure, she spit the whistle from her mouth and leaned inside to open the vent on Emma’s pink carrier cover, hoping to find a sleeping baby inside.

      Instead, blue eyes stared up at her. With her darling face crinkled up with displeasure and looking as if the tears were about to let loose again, Emma swung her tiny fists in the air. “Oh, sweetie. Just give up the fight and go to sleep.”

      After wiping her wet fingers on the leg of her jeans, Robin reached beneath the damp material that had kept Emma dry and guided a thumb back to Emma’s mouth, earning what Robin interpreted as a resigned whimper that things were okay. For now. “You’ll be just fine in a minute, sweetie. I promise.” She straightened Emma’s cap, cupped her soft cheek and smiled. “Mommy loves you.”

      A flicker of movement reflected off the back window. Startled by the darting shadow, Emma grabbed for her whistle.

      Before she could blow it, something hard smacked her across the back, throwing her against the frame of the car with bruising force. She thought the wind had slammed the door against her. But just as it registered that the rain was falling in a straight curtain around her car, she was struck again. This time, lower down. Something hard, narrow and unforgiving cracked against the back of her knees, toppling her to the pavement.

      Robin screamed as another blow slammed across her back. Her palms scraped over the wet asphalt as she spread-eagled on her stomach, the wind knocked from her chest. As the pain radiated through her legs, and she struggled to inhale through her bruised lungs, she realized the baby backpack she wore had probably saved her from a crippling or killing blow.

      The same backpack also served as an easy handle for her attacker. He latched on to the straps and dragged her several feet away from the car. Terror poured into her veins, thrusting aside the shock that had addled her thoughts. This was it. She was about to become the Rose Red Rapist’s latest victim. She needed to shake off this oxygen-deprived stupor, ignore the pain and fight. She had a child to live for and protect.

      Her world spinning, her lungs burning, her legs wobbly as a toddler’s as she pushed up onto her hands and knees, Robin quickly realized three things. Her attacker’s hands weren’t on her anymore. She squinted against the strobing effect of the lightning flashes overhead to see that he had stepped over her prone body and was rifling through the contents of her car. Her attacker was dressed in black from head to toe. There was no face, no hair color to see and identify. And he carried a baseball bat in one gloved hand.

      Clarity seeped into her brain with every breath, each one stronger and deeper than the last. Maybe this wasn’t a rape. Maybe he wanted her purse. Or it could be a carjacking. And that meant...Robin staggered to her feet and lurched toward the figure in black. “Get away from my baby!”

      She stuck the whistle between her lips and blew. The shrill alarm pierced the air. She blew it again as she lunged for the arm with the bat. Robin got her hands on his wrist as he whirled around. She banged it against the fender of her car, trying to shake the weapon loose.

      Despite her assailant’s muffled curse, he quickly regained the upper hand, spinning Robin to one side. With her arms up to struggle with the bat,