Page 2 of Tracing Her Stolen Identity
Chapter Two
A chime rang through Reece Palmer’s house, and he looked at his phone as he chewed his Grape-Nuts. They crunched under his teeth like rocks, rattling his brain until he dumped the bowl in the sink. Chalk another nope up to the health gurus on the internet. So much for breakfast for supper. After he swiped the notification open, he almost choked on those Grape-Nuts when he read the Google Alert.
An arrest warrant had been issued for Skylar Sullivan? No, it had to be a different Skylar Sullivan, he thought as he walked to his desk. Reece sat at his computer and shook the mouse, waking the beast he used for his remote work for Secure Watch, a company out of northern Minnesota that offered physical protection of properties and digital protection of company assets. Reece used to be the muscle, but his boss, Mina Jacobs, had lured him to the dark side with cookies and the promise that he’d likely get shot at less frequently if he worked behind a screen.
She’d been right, too. Reece had been working for Secure Watch for the last two years and hadn’t been shot at once, unlike his time working security, which often put them in some pretty interesting situations. Cybersecurityhad been his first love when he went to college to study criminal justice. Still, it wasn’t until Secure Watch came along that he’d found a home as a cybersecurity specialist.
He clicked the link included with the Google Alert and it took him to a page with a list of arrest warrants issued over the last week. Skylar Sullivan, thirty-one, was wanted for vandalism of several art galleries in the area. Reece opened a tab and googled the art galleries, reading the stories about the vandalism, including graffiti and breaking glass doors and windows. This had to be a different Skylar, the same age or not. The Skylar Sullivan he knew was the gentlest soul alive, not to mention she used a wheelchair and was incapable of tagging buildings with graffiti six feet off the ground.
Reece closed the window and sighed with relief. He’d known Skylar his entire life, and even though he hadn’t seen her since he graduated from college, he’d kept tabs on her as best he could. She was a talented artist, and he followed her career even if she could never know it. He shook the mouse back and forth a few times before he grabbed his Secure Watch phone and dialed Mina’s number.
“Secure Watch, Whiskey,” she answered.
“Secure Watch, Riker,” he responded, letting her know it was safe to talk freely.
“What’s up, Reece?” Mina asked. “Did you finish that job I sent you?”
“Just about,” he said, still wondering what he was doing. “You should have the report in a few. While I’m finishing that, would you do me a favor?” Mina used to work for the FBI, so she had channels that even he could never access when it came to finding information.
“I’ll try,” she said, as though she could hear his indecision about asking.
“A Google Alert came through for a friend of mine. Skylar Sullivan, thirty-one,” he explained. “It’s an arrest warrant from Duluth PD for vandalism of art galleries.”
“Do you know Skylar Sullivan?” Mina asked, and he could hear her pen tapping on the faithful legal pad alongside her, always waiting for her to scratch out notes.
“I do—did,” he said, quickly changing to the past tense. “We went to school together. She’s an artist, and I set up an alert to keep an eye on her career.”
“An artist is accused of vandalizing art galleries? That doesn’t make a lot of sense, Reece.”
“That’s why I called. When I checked the news stories about the vandalism, I found that some of the graffiti on the buildings was six feet off the ground. The Skylar I know has been in a wheelchair since she was seventeen.”
Mina was silent momentarily before saying, “I see” in a way only Mina could say it. She always made you feel like she knew all your secrets. She had probably honed that skill in the FBI.
“That’s why I’m thinking it can’t be her. My Skylar is thirty-one, born and raised in Duluth, and her parents are Mary and Joseph.” No joke, her parents were named Mary and Joseph. He still chuckled every time he had to say their names together. “She had one brother, named Silas, but he’s probably dead. No one has been able to find him for years, ever since he left home.” He replayed the sentence in his head, and he stuttered. “NotmySkylar, but the Skylar I’m talking about.”
Mina snorted but didn’t respond. “Understood. Does the Skylar, who isn’t yours, still live in Duluth?”
“Last I heard, but, oddly, they haven’t arrested her yet. The last address I had for her was 1776 West Quince Street.”
“Duluth Heights area. Got it. Give me ten. Whiskey, out.”
Reece hung up and transferred the files and report Mina needed into a zip file, then sent it electronically via their direct server. No sooner had he closed it than his personal phone rang, so he grabbed it, surprised to see a local number, though one unknown to him.
“Reece Palmer.”
“Ra—Reece?” A woman’s soft but terrified voice filled the line. “Reece Palmer from Duluth Denfield High School?”
“Yes,” he said slowly, wondering who would call him and reference that. The thought had barely crossed his mind when the answer came to him. “Skylar?”
Her quiet gasp told him he’d nailed it. “I—I need help.”
“Tell me what’s going on,” he said, waiting for her to explain the reason for her call. He didn’t know why she’d be calling him, but hearing her voice again sent him places he didn’t want to go at the moment.
“I was out of town working on my portfolio for a few weeks, and when I returned today and stopped for a prescription, my card was declined. When I got home, my duplex had been completely ransacked, and, Reece, they took all my documents like my Social Security card and everything that proves who I am.”
“Who arethey?” Reece jumped up and grabbed his wallet, jamming it in his back pocket. He pulled on his anorak and swung his go-bag out of the closet. It didn’t get used much anymore, but the habit of always keeping one packedwhen he worked for Cal at Secure One was hard to break. He’d known it would come in handy one day, and today was that day. He hadn’t expected that one day to involve the woman he’d grown up with and had once thought would be his, though. At the last second, he darted back to the desk to grab his Secure Watch phone and portable laptop.
“I don’t know!” she exclaimed with frustration. “My bank accounts are empty or, at least, they don’t exist anymore, and I got a text from someone named Binate who said I shouldn’t call the police because I’ve been a bad girl. Reece, I don’t know what’s happening, but I’m terrified.”
