Identity Unknown (7 page)

No biggie for him. He didn't have a cell phone or a computer.

Paulson nearly sputtered. “But what if we need help? How do we contact the sheriff?”

“Satellite phone,” she replied. “Don't worry, Paulson. There's no way anyone will be able to find us out there.”

“Yeah, from your mouth to God's ears,” the other deputy groused and sat back.

“Amen to that,” John said. He sent up a quick prayer that whoever was after him didn't know about this place. Audrey exited the highway onto a two-lane road that stretched out before them with dense woods on either side. Snow covered the forest floor. Occasionally John checked the side-view mirror to make sure there were no other cars traveling in the same direction. The longer they drove, the denser the foliage became.

Suddenly beams of light appeared behind them.

Adrenaline pumped through John's veins. What were the chances that someone else would be out on this road at this time of night? How had they found them? “We've got company.”

The lights gained on them. The hairs on the back of his neck jumped to attention. This was no casual driver out for an evening drive.

“Hang on,” Audrey warned. She cranked the wheel and sent the car into a spin. She straightened the wheel when they were facing the oncoming car.

“What are you doing?” Paulson shouted. “Are you crazy? This isn't a time to play chicken.”

“I'm not,” she replied in a tight tone. “Normally we'd be dealing with a couple feet of snow at this time of year, but it's late in coming. We have only a dusting to make things slick.”

Facing the oncoming vehicle allowed John to determine the rapidly approaching car was an SUV. A monster of a thing with a large brush guard, looking a bit beat-up.

“It's them,” Audrey said. “The men who are trying to kill you.”

Grabbing onto the dash, John asked, “What are you doing?”

“I told you this can outrun anything,” she said. “That beast of a machine won't be able to turn around quickly enough to follow us. We'll be taking a more scenic route.”

The distance between them and the oncoming SUV lessened. John gritted his teeth. He had to trust Audrey. Trust that she knew what she was doing, because he and Paulson were at her mercy.

Blinded by the SUV's headlights, he braced himself for impact, but at the last second, Audrey swerved, roaring past the SUV. She floored the gas, and the Mustang raced away, the studded tires thumping on the snow-crusted road. She shut off the headlights and the interior dash lights, plunging them into darkness.

“Hold on, because there's a turn up here and I'm going to make it without braking,” she said.

From the backseat Paulson groaned. “You're going to kill us.”

* * *

“Have a little faith, Paulson,” Audrey shot back. Her heart pumped a frantic rhythm beneath her breastbone. Her hands gripped the steering wheel. She eased her foot off the gas. The car incrementally slowed. How had they found them? Her mind grappled with possibilities. Something that had been bugging her roared to the center of her mind.

How had the bad guys known where to find John when he'd washed ashore? And then when exactly to hit the ambulance?

She downshifted and cranked the wheel, smoothly taking the turn into a break between two copses of trees, and brought the car to an abrupt halt.

“John, check your clothes and your boots for a tracker.”

“Tracker?” His voice held a glint of surprise. “Of course.”

John searched his clothes and gritted his teeth through the pain as he finally yanked off his boots, inspecting them. “Found it.” He rolled down the window, allowing the frigid air to swirl through the interior of the car while he chucked the tracking device out into the woods. “It was embedded in the heel of my boot.”

Gratified and yet mad at herself for not thinking of it sooner, she pressed on the gas and they bounced along on a rough road with only the moonlight as their guide. A layer of snow that had crusted into ice crunched beneath their tires and twinkled in the moonbeams. She kept the car at a moderate speed, compared to how she'd been driving.

“Do you know where you're going?” Paulson asked in a shaky voice.

“Of course. I know every inch of these woods,” she said. “Besides, there's no way for them to know where we're heading now.”

After ten minutes and no sign of being followed, she flipped on the headlights, illuminating the trees and the snow covering the ground.

The dirt road ended at a T. She slowed and took the turn to the right. They headed down another road, barely wide enough for the car. A pristine layer of white covered the swath of road, which ended at a large circle.

She parked and popped open her door. The crashing of waves on the rocky shore could be heard even though she couldn't see the ocean from where they were. “Okay, boys, we're hiking from here.”

“Hiking to where?” Paulson asked from the backseat.

She twisted around to look at him. “The lighthouse.”

Paulson scoffed. “I thought you said you knew a safe place out here. I thought you meant a nice warm vacation home.”

She held back a smile. “The lighthouse is safe.”

Paulson shook his head. “And if they decide to look for us at the lighthouse, then what?”

“We'll see them long before they reach us,” she told him. “And if we need it, there's a dory we can use.”

“A dory?” John opened his door.

“A small flat-bottomed boat,” she answered. “There's one docked at the lighthouse.”

“Great,” Paulson groused. “We can be ducks in a boat. And if the bad guys don't do us in, the ocean will.”

“Relax, Dan. The dory has a motor.” She climbed out of the car and shut the door. She flipped up the collar of her uniform jacket and regretted they couldn't have driven right up to the lighthouse.

John climbed out, slipped on the borrowed jacket and then hustled to the back of the car to pick up Audrey's bag from the back hatch. “You lead the way,” he told her.

She hesitated, fighting her need to be independent. “Thank you.” She flipped on her flashlight. “We're going to be forging our own trail until we meet up with the official one.”

They hiked for an hour through dense trees and bushes before they came to an actual trail carved through the forest. Then they followed that trail until they reached an area with darkened outbuildings surrounding the lighthouse that stood sentinel at the easternmost edge of the state park.

“Is the lighthouse manned?” John asked.

Audrey shook her head. “No. The lighthouse became automated in the late 1980s—”

“And the park closed in mid-October for the winter,” Paulson interjected. “So basically, were alone out here without internet or cell service.”

“There's a satellite phone in the watch room,” Audrey assured him through gritted teeth. His whining was getting on her nerves. “The mayor insisted on putting one in several years ago when the automated system failed during a storm. That way if it ever fails again or needs to be serviced and the lighthouse has to be manned, there's a way to communicate with the outside world.”

Inside the lighthouse, they made their way to the watch room. The glow from the lantern beam reflected off the oblong windows encasing the watch room. Audrey stared out at the dark night beyond and thanked God they'd made it safely.

Paulson dropped his duffel in the middle of the room. “The sheriff said to bring you a change of clothes.” He tugged open the drawstring top and pulled out several things. “I grabbed some of my brother's things he'd left in our spare room when he last visited. You're about his size.” Paulson then made a beeline for the satellite phone set up in the corner. “I'm going to let the sheriff know what's happened.”

John snatched up the clothes Paulson had provided before moving to stand beside Audrey. “You okay?”

Turning to stare into his dark eyes, she felt the need to share her thoughts. “Just thanking God we made it here in one piece. I'll admit I was a bit nervous out there.”

One side of his mouth lifted in a lopsided grin. “Only a bit? I was downright petrified.”

She cocked one eyebrow, and a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. Her hair had come loose from the clip in the back during their hike. Long tendrils curled over the collar of her uniform and tickled her neck. She pushed a strand back. “Oh? So you doubted me? But I got us here safely.”

He reached up to lay claim to a lock of blond hair, rubbing the silky strands between his fingers. “Yes, you did. And very expertly, at that.”

His praise softened something inside her. She mentally scrambled to reclaim her professional detachment, but apparently it was hiding behind tender affection.

John glanced at Paulson, who had his back to them. Then he tugged her close and leaned toward her but stilled with just a few inches between them, allowing her the opportunity to step away, to put a stop to what was about to happen.

Appreciation and attraction heated her skin. She knew the right thing to do would to be step back, create space between them, both physically and emotionally, but her feet stayed rooted to the ground. Longing welled from deep inside her, and she found she wanted, needed his kiss.

“Hey, guys.” Paulson's voice broke through the moment. “The sheriff has some news you might want to hear.”

Irritated by the interruption, and without breaking eye contact with John, Audrey asked, “What is it?”

“Sheriff knows John's real name.”

The words dispersed the intimacy of the moment.

John sucked in a breath. Audrey felt his anticipation and his dread in her gut. Finally they would find out who he was and hopefully why someone wanted to kill him.

SEVEN

“Y
es, sir,” Paulson said into the phone. “I'll let them know.” He hung up.

Audrey's gaze jerked away from John, and her jaw dropped. She couldn't believe Paulson had dropped the bomb that the sheriff knew John's identity and then disconnected without letting her or John talk to the sheriff. “Wait! Why did you hang up?” She rushed across the room to grab the phone from Paulson. “What did the sheriff say?”

John stalked closer, his jaw set in a tight line. His dark eyes bored holes into Paulson. So different from the man who moments ago had nearly kissed her. She swallowed back the disappointment at being interrupted, even though she knew kissing John would have been a huge, colossal mistake. She couldn't let herself be taken in by his charm and good looks, even though there was more to him than that.

He'd trusted her when he had no reason to. He'd shown her respect and consideration. He was struggling in a difficult situation yet had shown concern for others. She admitted to herself she liked him.

However, she had to keep an emotional distance. Once he discovered who he was and where he belonged, he'd leave Calico Bay behind, while her life was rooted here. Letting herself become attached would only set her up for heartbreak, both personally and professionally. She had to keep her eye on the future, on her goal of one day being sheriff. The town deserved a leader that could keep her emotions in check.

“Hey, don't get mad at me.” Paulson held up his hands, palms out. “Sheriff said he received a call from someone in the Canadian government.” He glanced at John. “They're sending people here.”

“What kind of people?” Officers to take John into custody? The thought made her blood run cold.

“Did he give you my name?” John asked in a razor-sharp tone that sent a shiver down Audrey's spine. His fingers flexed around the bundle of clothes in his hands.

Paulson nodded eagerly. “Nathanial Longhorn. Ring any bells?”

Audrey held her breath. John's blank expression didn't bode well.

Slowly he shook his head. “No. Did he tell you anything else? Do I have a family?”

Paulson shook his head. “Sheriff said no wife, no kids.”

That was good, wasn't it? He turned on his heel and paced back to the window overlooking the ocean.

Directly above them, up a ten-rung metal ladder, was the lantern room, where the electrical, nonrotating lighthouse signal was housed. It blinked every two seconds, throwing a beam of light fifteen nautical miles over the water, warning of the rocky jut of land they stood on.

Empathy engulfed her. She couldn't imagine the frustration of not knowing who he was or his past. She wanted to go to him, wrap her arms around him and tell him it would be all right. But she doubted he'd believe her. Not to mention that would be so inappropriate.

Something bad had happened to this man. Someone was still trying to kill him. And despite others' misgivings, she felt deep inside that he was a good man. A man who deserved her protection.

She couldn't be wrong about him. Could she? She sent up a silent prayer asking God to make the truth known. If she were proven wrong, then so be it, but until then she would continue to believe in him and hope for the best.

“Sheriff requested we head to the station first thing in the morning and he'll give you all the details,” Paulson continued. “He's also got Harrison and Dietrich out patrolling, looking for the SUV.”

Audrey cradled the phone, tempted to call the sheriff back, but she knew her great-uncle liked to do things in person. If he'd wanted to discuss John—er, Nathanial—over the phone, he would have. She set the phone aside. “I guess we have to exercise some patience. Morning will come soon enough.”

She walked to Nathanial's side and stared at his proud profile. His jaw worked. Most likely gnashing his teeth with irritation at having to wait to learn more about himself. “I'm sorry you don't recognize your name.”

His lips twisted. “Not your fault. It's strange, you know. When I apply the name
Nathanial
to myself, it feels tight in my brain.” He grimaced. “I'm not sure how to explain.”

“Maybe it's part of whatever your mind is protecting you from. You know—” she dropped her voice an octave “—the betrayal.”

He blew out a breath. “Yeah. I guess.” He turned to face her. His dark, troubled eyes searched her face. “Thank you.”

Surprise bloomed in her chest. “For what?”

“Saving my life. Keeping me safe. I have the strangest feeling that I should be the one protecting you.”

She smiled and put her hand on his arm. His muscles bunched beneath her palm. “I'm not the one in danger.”

“Except that when you're with me, you are,” he countered.

She squeezed his arm. “Part of the job.” She removed her hand. “Come with me to the visitors' center. There's a restroom where you can change your clothes. And I'll see if I can find us some food, since we skipped dinner.”

He extended his hand, indicating she go first. “Lead the way.”

She took him down an interior spiral staircase and opened the door to an attached portion of the building with a key on her key ring. “This once was the lighthouse keeper's quarters but was renovated into a visitors' center and museum. The US Coast Guard had a station here back in the day. When they abandoned the property, the Yeaton family took it over and made the old station into rental property, which is where we would have been staying had our enemies in the black SUV not followed us.” She pointed to the left. “Restrooms are there.”

“Why do you have keys to the lighthouse?” he asked.

“My great-great-great-grandmother was related to Hopley Yeaton, a naval captain in the late 1700s. He was considered to be the father of the US Coast Guard. The lighthouse association wanted me on the board because of the relation, and they gave me a set of keys.”

“Not only are you beautiful, you're American royalty,” he commented with a gleam of interest in his eyes.

A heated flush rose up her neck and settled in her cheeks. He was so smooth with his compliments. If she weren't careful, she'd find herself following through on the promise of a kiss. “I'm going to go look for some food.”

His soft laugh followed her into the store part of the visitors' center. She gathered bags of trail mix, beef jerky and bottles of water. She wrote out an IOU and set it on the counter. In the spring when the center reopened, she'd settle up. It wasn't like anyone wouldn't know where to find her.

“Any chance there's a razor around?” Nathanial stepped into the store wearing the change of clothes provided by Paulson.

He looked so different in well-worn jeans that looked like they were tailor-made for his long, lean legs and trim waist. A plaid flannel shirt in Christmas colors stretched across his broad shoulders. He'd rolled the sleeves up to reveal muscled forearms. He'd dampened his hair and slicked it back with his fingers. He rubbed a hand over his stubbled jaw, and her own fingers curled with the yearning to do the same.

“Sorry, no.” Normally she didn't go in for the scruffy look, but on him it worked well. “Tomorrow when we go back into town, we can hit the mercantile.”

He eyed her bounty. “You found a feast.” She handed him a couple bags of trail mix and a bottle of water.

“It's not fancy but will have to do.” They took the stairs to the watchtower.

Paulson was on the outside catwalk. When he saw them he came inside. He rubbed his arms and shivered. “It's definitely going to snow again soon. I hope we don't get stuck here.”

“See anything out there?” Audrey asked. There was no way the men in the SUV would just give up. She figured they were waiting for daylight before resuming their hunt for Nathanial. At least she hoped that was the case.

If they found the gravel road to the trailhead, they could hike in and stage an assault. But that could happen anywhere. At least here in the lighthouse, they had the advantage of a high viewpoint and could see them coming.

“No. It's dark and quiet out there,” Paulson replied as he accepted the bottle of water she offered him. “I found a pile of blankets in the closet. I'll grab a couple and head downstairs to watch the door.”

She handed him a stick of beef jerky and a bag of trail mix. “I can take the first watch.”

“Not necessary,” Paulson said, taking the offered treats, and grabbed two blankets from the pile on the floor. “We can trade off in a few hours.”

There was something in his tone that grated on her nerves and led her to think he wouldn't make the trade out of some chivalrous need to protect the female. For half a second she contemplated arguing with him and demanding she take the first watch, but then she decided it wasn't worth the aggravation. She'd set her watch alarm and relieve him from guard duty whether he wanted her to or not.

Nathanial found a chair and dragged it to the center of the room. “Do you have cuffs on you?”

She turned to face him. “Excuse me?”

“Your boss was right to put me in a cell,” he stated. He sat and placed his hands on the armrests of the chair. “We don't know my story. The people coming to claim me could very well be taking me to prison.”

“No.” She wouldn't accept that despite the validity in his words. “If the sheriff thought you were a threat to me and Paulson, he wouldn't have called—he'd have shown up and taken you into his custody.”

“Why do you believe in me?” He tilted his head and stared at her with curiosity gleaming in his dark eyes.

She stepped closer. “My grandmother always told me I had a good sense of people. The sheriff says it's what makes me good at my job.” Her mouth twisted wryly. “It just seems to be in my love life that my judgment fails.” Oh, brother. Had she just said that out loud? Embarrassment sent a heated flush through her. Maybe he'd let the admission slip by without comment.

He reached out and took her hand. “Tell me.”

She tried to disengage from his grasp, but he held firm. His thumb made little circles on her palm, igniting a maelstrom of tingles to careen through her. Totally distracting her. “What?”

He rose, pulling her closer, trapping her hand against his chest. Warmth infused her, chasing away the chill of the lighthouse. “Tell me about the man who made you so shy of relationships.”

She had to tilt her head back to meet his gaze. She wasn't used to having to do that. More often than not, she was taller than the men in her life. The look in his eyes enthralled her. Her breath caught in her chest and held. She didn't want to think about Kyle, much less talk about him. She licked her lips. Nathanial's gaze tracked the movement. Her insides quivered. “What makes you think there was someone?”

His mouth curved. “I may not remember my name or my past, but I can read you. You're uncomfortable with compliments, which suggests you don't trust flattering words. You have a chip on your shoulder about being regarded as an equal by your peers and your boss that tells me you've had to prove yourself over and over again. And you keep an emotional barrier up.” He grinned. “Plus, my innate charm seems to offend you.”

His words dug into wounds she'd thought she'd kept hidden. She lifted her chin. “I'm sure everything you just said could apply to most women in my position. And it isn't so much offense I feel at your charm. I just distrust it.”

He conceded her point by inclining his head. “Probably. And you're wise to distrust charm until you're certain it's genuine.” A wry expression spread over his handsome face. “It takes a strong and intelligent woman to enter a field that has traditionally been dominated by men. And you, Deputy Audrey Martin, are a strong and intelligent woman.”

If he only knew. Shame and guilt rushed in to kick her in the gut. She dropped her gaze and once again tried to put distance between them. He lifted her hand to kiss her knuckles, effectively stopping her in her tracks.

She swallowed and watched his nicely formed lips place feather-like touches against her skin. He was torturing her without inflicting pain. Instead, he stirred yearnings deep in her heart.

Yearnings for someone to make her feel special. Someone whom she could be herself with, not always have to be brave and tough. Someone who would be true, genuine.

She'd be foolish to look for that with this man. There was too much unknown about him. And she needed to remember what she really wanted in life—to be sheriff. Not some lovesick, wimpy woman trailing after a man with no memory.

“I would never purposely hurt you,” he said softly, as if he could read her mind. “That's why I think you need to cuff me to the chair and stay far away from me.”

Probably good advice. But every instinct rebelled at the thought. “Not happening. If you want to talk, we can talk. But I'm not chaining you to a chair without a reason.”

This time when she tugged on her hand, he released her. She moved to the pile of blankets. She wrapped one around her shoulders and then handed him one. He did the same. They sat on the floor with their backs propped up against the wall. They munched on trail mix and beef jerky.

“So,” he finally said. “Spill.”

Her jaw clenched. Her teeth sank into an almond. Her mouth went dry. She took a swig of water, debating how and what to say. “It's not a big deal,” she said, hoping to play nonchalant. “I fell in a love with a jerk. We broke up. I've been gun-shy of romance ever since. End of story.”

“I doubt that. What made him a jerk?”

“He was a player. Had me on a string along with several other women. He'd led me to believe I was special, that he cared about me.” She let out a mirthless laugh. “I should have known better. I did know better, but I was blinded by his charm. He'd talked me into setting aside my values and faith with empty promises of forever.”