Identity Crisis Read Online Free PDF Page A

and a can of pepper spray from the drawer. She slid onto the floor next to the bed. She peered over the bed at the doorway, grasping hold of her mom’s wedding ring on the chain around her neck, praying the guy was gone.
    The deafening shrill of the alarm drowned out her cell phone, which thankfully vibrated in her hand. She answered it to find the security company, assuring her the police were on the way. The entire building was undoubtedly awake and the intruder long gone, so she turned on a lamp and deactivated the alarm. The wailing stopped, yet ringing echoed in her ears, and blood zipped through her veins.
    Ethan Ryder flew into the room. He’d apparently been staking out her home. Unless he’d been the man
in
her home.
    • • •
    “You all right?” He rushed toward her.
    She nodded faintly.
    Ethan scanned Olivia for injuries, his gaze pausing briefly on the sheer nightgown hugging her breasts and the curves of her waist. Thank God there was no sign of blood.
    “What happened?” he asked.
    “A man … ” she gestured a trembling hand toward the doorway, looking scared shitless, “was … in here.” Curiosity and suspicion creased her brow. “How’d you get here so fast?”
    As though he’d been the one in her place? The first step in earning a witness’s trust was to protect them. He wasn’t about to let anyone hurt Olivia.
    “Only takes a matter of minutes to run upstairs from my car. I’m in pretty good shape,” he joked, trying to ease the tension. “But I’m sure the guy’s long gone.”
    “Why were you watching my house?” Her voice held a hint of relief rather than anger, unlike at the museum when she’d demanded he stop following her.
    “Someone trashing your dad’s place right after his death is too coincidental. He might be dead, but you’re still part of the program. It’s my job to protect you. Wait here.” He bolted out of the bedroom, Glock drawn, and swept through the apartment.
    After losing a witness four months ago, he wasn’t about to lose anyone else under his protection. Worse, he’d also lost his team member, Roy Howard, when they were both blown up in a safe house. Ethan had left after receiving a call that his aunt, the last person he had on earth, had a severe heart attack. It was the only time Ethan had let his personal life and emotions cloud his judgment and interfere with his job.
    He’d returned to the safe house two hours later and stepped from his car as an explosion blew out the windows, showering the lawn with glass and wood. He’d gotten off with a gash on his forehead. Frank Meyers, the marshal guarding the exterior, had been shot and was looking at years of rehabilitation. Not only had Ethan tarnished his impeccable record, but also the organization’s, since this was the first witness killed while under U.S. Marshals’ protection. At least the first one who’d been killed while following the program’s guidelines.
    Unless the witness had gone against policy, disclosing their location. She’d been allowed one call to her mother while Frank Meyers was present … or at least should have been present. Frank wasn’t the sharpest. The pretty witness might have talked him into permitting her a private call.
    The alternative was almost unthinkable: A snitch on the inside was responsible for the death of one of their own.
    Ethan finished checking the closets and any potential hiding spots, even though he guaranteed the guy was gone. How had he not seen him escape? For that matter, how hadn’t he seen someone entering when he was camped out right across the street in his car? He’d seen only one couple and later three teenagers enter the five-unit house. The back entrance exited into a dimly lit alley. He doubted any tenants used it at night, and he’d stuck a magnetic alarm on the door to signal if someone did. The guy must have seen the alarm and deactivated it.
    He opened the door to scan the hallway for potential escape routes and found