Page 15 of Tracing Her Stolen Identity
“Sure, go ahead. I’ll wait here,” she said with a tight smile.
“I’ll be right back,” he promised, grabbing the tire and the old inner tube and heading for the door.
“Reece?” He paused by the door and turned back to her. “Thanks.”
“I told you, we’ve got you. There’s no need to thank me every time.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” she said, resting her head on the pillow. “But you’d have to be in my shoes to understand why.”
All he could do was nod once in understanding and head to the garage to MacGyver his ex–best friend’s wheelchair tire so they could make a fast getaway if the need arose. All he could think wasSometimes, life is weird.
* * *
SETTLED ON THEcouch after a breakfast of pancakes and coffee, Skylar watched Reece working in the kitchen as he cleaned up. His casual humming as he wiped down the counters and washed the dishes made it seem like any other morning in any American household, but that wouldnever be them. Especially since they were hiding out in the middle of nowhere while trying to figure out who had imploded her life.
Sky inhaled a deep breath and noted the slight twinge in her chest. She’d cried herself to sleep last night, her face buried in a pillow so the man who had come to her rescue wouldn’t hear her. The last thing she wanted was to end up in his arms again. Check that. She wanted to be in his arms, but she understood what a bad idea it would be if she wanted to get through this and go back to her life without him. Her life was already dull and lonely. When she returned to her duplex, it would feel nothing but desolate now. She’d already been considering a move to a bigger city but had vetoed it because accessibility was unaffordable for a starving artist.
Sure, she could use her settlement money to set herself up somewhere, but she wanted that money to last as long as possible, and her life in Duluth would allow for that. Maybe she just needed a change in scenery. When this was over and she could move around the world again as Skylar Sullivan, she’d buy a plane ticket and visit her parents in Florida. A little sunshine on her face would be welcome after all this.
“Can I get you anything?” Reece asked as he walked into the living room.
She glanced up, surprised by his presence. “Do you have a piece of paper? I thought of a design. I want to draw it out so I don’t forget.”
“There must be something here somewhere,” he said, glancing around the computer setup. “Wait, I know. Be right back.”
When he disappeared down the hallway, she pushedherself back into the couch and propped the pillows under her knees that had shifted. When she wasn’t in her chair at home, she had a lift recliner that she sat in, which kept her trunk and back supported. Here, she had to improvise to keep herself from getting sore.
“I noticed this last night in my bedroom,” he explained, handing her a sketch pad. “Charlotte must have left it here.”
Skylar took the pad from his hand and flipped it open. It contained several sketches that looked like the start of a logo. “Charlotte was the one who killed the Red River Slayer, right?”
“Yeah, Charlotte Holbock,” he said, sitting in the desk chair. “With her husband, Mack, they tracked him down and unexpectedly took him out. She won a presidential citizen medal for her involvement in the case.”
“She’s a great artist, too,” Skylar said, pointing at some of the other drawings. She pulled a pencil from her pocket and opened a new page as he snorted. When she glanced up, he was smiling. “What?”
“You carry a pencil in your pocket.”
“I’m an artist. Of course I carry a pencil in my pocket. There are also several in my chair bag and my truck, and sometimes I stick one in my hair just in case.”
“Just in case all the rest desert you?”
“More like an emotional support pencil,” she said, scratching out the image she’d pictured last night. “What exactly do you do for Secure Watch? Are you like a hacker or something?”
His laughter filled the room, and it lifted her lips, too. “No, I leave the hacking to Mina, Delilah and Kelsey. I’m what they call a digital forensic examiner. I get to solve mysteries.”
“You always loved a good mystery book as a kid,” she said with a smile, remembering all the choose-your-own-adventure books they used to read together.
“I love solving puzzles, and this job lets me do it day after day. When a company has a problem, I get the information from their devices and try to learn how the unauthorized person accessed the system. It’s my job to follow the trail and gather all the evidence for trials and that kind of thing. It’s rewarding work.”
“It’s the kind of work no one thinks about anyone doing, to be honest. You assume you’re safe online when that’s anything but the truth. Case in point,” she said, dropping her pencil to motion around the room.
“You nailed it. The cases we’ve been involved with over the years have unintentionally taught people that, I think. It’s been hard for Cal. He went from being a small security group installing perimeter cameras to being thrust into the spotlight without being equipped to deal with the influx of business. He stepped up and kept evolving. That’s all any of us can do in a world like this. What are you drawing?”
She turned it to face him. “We passed some sandhill cranes on the way here yesterday. They were standing there watching their baby waddle about. I’ve never done sandhill cranes before, but they inspired me.”
“What are all the letters and arrows for?”
Lowering the pad to her lap, she pointed to the tallest crane. “Those are notations telling me what color glass to use or what technique to use on the glass to shade it.”
