Jodie Bailey - Compromised Identity

“General information about soldiers. Honestly, whatever you think is on there is what’s on there. Your basic information for each of our men and women.”

She’d wasted half of her afternoon dealing with Sean Turner and his theories. He kept spouting things she didn’t even want to think about and, with her body aching and her mind fogging from lack of sleep, it was better to just be an ostrich, to stick her head in the sand, and pretend everything was normal. “I have to go meet a spouse at the Soldier Center. She lost her ID card and needs someone to hold her hand through the process.”

“Isn’t that the Family Readiness Group’s job?” Sean waved a hand toward the door for Jessica to go ahead of him.

“Normally, but I know the soldier, and his wife felt better calling me than her point of contact. I think there might have been some friction there at one point.” She glanced at her watch as she walked out the door, keeping her distance from Sean Turner. This was one favor she was glad to do, especially if it got her out of his presence. “I’ve got to be over there in half an hour. And then I’m going home to pretend today never happened.” She was hosting the college girls from her church for dinner and Bible study tonight. Their chatter and company would be the best thing to happen to her today.

“Let me come with you.” Sean pulled the door shut and locked it, then held the key out to Jessica. “I’m not really comfortable with letting you out of my sight after what’s happened the past couple of days.”

Jessica took the key and pocketed it. “Just when I’m starting to think you might not be so crazy after all, you go and sound like a stalker.”

“I’m just saying—”

She held up her hand and headed up the hallway ahead of him. “And I’m just saying. I’m going to the ID card facility and home. Not much can happen between here and there.” Well, it could, but she could take care of herself. She’d spent the past ten years proving that, and she’d have to keep proving it if she was going to go Green to Gold, from enlisted to officer.

Sean was going to argue. Jessica just knew it. But before he could, the trill of a cell phone echoed off the cinder block walls.

“Dylan, wait.” Sean’s voice halted her.

Jessica stopped and turned.

He was holding up Specialist Channing’s cell. “It’s ringing.”

“Answer it.” Whoever was calling could know exactly what was going on, could hold the answers that would put Sean Turner on the road and out of her life for good, before she noticed yet again how blue those eyes of his were and how well he wore his uniform.

Sean shook his head. “I’m not taking the chance of tipping somebody off. You recognize the number?”

The phone stopped ringing as Jessica stepped closer. “Bring up the recent calls list.”

Sean obliged, but he stopped in midswipe as the phone chimed once. His face tensed and he held out the phone for Jessica to read the screen. “They just wiped the email clean.”

“What?” Jessica grabbed the phone and stared at the No Mail message.

“I backed it up, so we haven’t lost anything but—”

The phone pinged again, and Jessica flicked the screen to open a new message as Sean eased closer.

Tell Staff Sergeant Turner an old friend says hello.

Sean’s mouth pressed into a thin line, the edges whitening. He pulled the phone from her hand to focus on the words.

“What’s wrong?” Jessica took a step closer, reaching out to touch his arm, but stood instead with her hand hovering between them. They didn’t know each other well enough for her to reach out to him, though every instinct in her urged the contact.

“They know me.” His voice scraped over controlled emotions.

“They know your name. It’s on your uniform. Anybody who sees you knows it.”

He shook his head, finally lifting his gaze to look at her. His eyes were cold, hard. “No. They made a point to mention ‘an old friend’ in that message...” He stepped back and tensed. “They want me to know they don’t only know my name. They know who I am.”

FOUR

Somehow they know who I am. It had been two hours, and still Sean’s words chased each other in Jessica’s head.

As the clock edged closer to five, Jessica settled in her seat, pressing her back hard against the gray plastic. The ID card facility at the Soldier Support Center was hopping with soldiers trying to get minor issues squared away for themselves and their family members.

This was not exactly where she wanted to be right now. As much as she tried to make conversation with the young wife next to her, her mind kept wondering if the analysis on the powder in her drink had come back, if someone was really going to try again to kill her and how the sender of that text message knew Sean Turner.

His composure had cracked at the words, coming back together quickly when he realized she’d noticed. Still, she couldn’t forget that look, that quick flash of something she couldn’t quite figure out.

Beside her, Ellen Johnson frowned, then smiled slightly. “Thanks for helping me put together all of this paperwork. There are so many hoops to jump through with Garrett deployed. I’m scared to death I’m going to do the wrong thing and someone will yell at me or something.”

The young wife was like a dozen others Jessica had met over her time in the Army. Young soldiers, panicking about deployment, would marry their girlfriends, move them on to a new post and leave them for parts around the world almost before the ink was dry on their marriage licenses. Jessica half understood it, that need to have someone waiting at home, that drive to protect the ones they loved by making sure they had the benefit of insurance should anything happen. Still, it always chafed her a bit when the guys did that, because so many wives were still children themselves, barely eighteen and pulled away from their families to live in a strange place while they worried daily about the men they loved. Some of them, like Ellen, might have been better off staying home with their parents during the deployment. The dream of making a home with a young soldier was often a whole lot more romantic than the reality.

Jessica shoved aside her thoughts and prayed they didn’t read on her face. She dragged the toe of her boot across the dark flecks in the floor as she sat taller. “You’re not the first to lose an ID card while her husband is away.” Murphy’s Law always seemed to kick in when the soldiers left, with something—or someone—getting lost or broken almost immediately. “I’m just glad I was able to help.”

“You didn’t have to stay and wait with me. I know this isn’t exactly under your job description.” The younger woman pushed straight blond hair behind her ear and smiled, her gray eyes not quite receiving the message. “I appreciate it. I’m not quite sure what all of the drama with my point of contact was, but she didn’t make me very comfortable asking her questions.” Ellen stopped to listen as another number was called, then tightened her hold on the boho purse in her lap. “It’s intimidating here, all of these soldiers in one place.”

“Friction happens. Where’d you grow up?”

“Michigan. Not exactly a lot of military bases up there.” Ellen waved a hand that encompassed the whole room, then dropped it back into her lap. “This is a totally different world, not just the Army and the South, but being married and everything.”

“I’ll bet.”

“I’ll be okay if you leave when they call me back.”

Jessica fought the urge to check her watch. The girls in her Bible study would get to her house around seven o’clock, and if she had any prayer of having dinner ready, she’d have to get out of here in the next fifteen minutes. Still, the last thing she ever wanted to do was telegraph that impatience to Ellen. “Are you sure?”