Undercover Twin. Heather Woodhaven

      I will praise thee; for I am fearfully and wonderfully made: marvellous are thy works; and that my soul knoweth right well.

      —Psalms 139:14

      To my parents—thank you for letting me stay up to watch those ’80s spy and mystery shows with you and introducing me to the romantic suspense genre.

      Contents

       Cover

       Back Cover Text

       About the Author

       Booklist

       Title Page

       Copyright

      Note to Readers

       Introduction

       Dear Reader

       Bible Verse

       Dedication

       ONE

       TWO

       THREE

       FOUR

       FIVE

       SIX

       SEVEN

       EIGHT

       NINE

       TEN

       ELEVEN

       TWELVE

       THIRTEEN

       FOURTEEN

       FIFTEEN

       EPILOGUE

       Extract

       About the Publisher

       ONE

      Audrey Clark adjusted her cross-body bag as she stepped out, under the cover of stars. The atmosphere matched her mood, dark and uncomfortable.

      “You sure you want to be dropped off here, sweetie?”

      A valid question as the university campus was empty in June, before the beginning of summer school. Audrey looked back at the gray sedan still parked at the curb and nodded at the grandmotherly driver. “I’ve been here once before, thank you.” The driver’s response was a heavy foot to the gas pedal.

      Audrey had missed registration for the Postdoctoral Symposium, thanks to a delayed flight, even though the Stanford organizer she spoke with on the phone insisted Audrey had already picked up her credentials and itinerary. As if Audrey only imagined being stuck on a plane. Ridiculous.

      But she was here now, and if she hurried, she’d catch the end of the reception, grab her registration packet and take the group shuttle to the hotel. Her missing luggage should arrive by morning.

      The path lights lining the sidewalk bolstered her courage. She’d forget the miserable day and proclaim a do-over. Starting now. The reception should be in the building ahead, but the moonlight made everything appear different than she remembered. To her left, the roofs resembled interlocking building bricks. She followed the student path and spotted a sign listing five departments and their corresponding numbers, confirming she was headed in the right direction.

      The mirrored windows of the Learning and Knowledge Center came into view, past a dozen empty benches underneath a grove of trees and the long shadows they created. Audrey fisted the tactical flashlight inside her open bag and strode forward. A campus security officer once told her it was the most effective thing to carry at night without a concealed weapon permit, as a flashlight beam could both blind an attacker and draw attention to a struggle. Plus, the metal handle could pack a wallop. Not that she’d ever needed to use it.

      A man rounded the corner and approached. Middle-aged and wearing a jacket despite the unseasonable heat, his gaze swung from side to side. Was he looking for someone or was he scared? She stepped to the right side of the sidewalk and averted eye contact.

      “Here? I thought we were meeting at Beckman Center.” His voice was soft with a touch of Southern dialect. Maybe he was on the phone, using an earpiece she couldn’t see. He looked over his shoulder once more before making eye contact, clearly waiting for Audrey to answer.

      She pulled out the flashlight, her finger hovering over the button that would turn the light from dim to blinding. “You must be mistaken. I’m not—”

      “Take it. We don’t have much time.” His left hand fisted at his waist. “I’ve been trying to lose someone all day.”

      He shoved his hand into the front pocket of her purse.

      “Hey!” She struck his shoulder with the flashlight, the beam of light sweeping across the sidewalk and landing on his face—

      Gunshots peppered the ground around her. A scream escaped, and she hunched over, covering her head. The man fell against her, and they toppled to the ground, the flashlight bouncing and rolling away.

      The impact rattled her spine, and the side of the bench’s leg dug into the top of her head. Her ribs ached from the man’s weight, making only shallow breaths possible. She twisted her shoulders inward, providing just enough space to fully gasp as her legs and feet fought for momentum to shove the man off her, but it was pointless. He weighed at least two hundred pounds, and he made no effort to try to move. Maybe he’d fainted. She strained against him. “Please...get off.”