exactly blend into a crowd. I might have written it off as a mistake, but the night security guard said something similar.” Casting a surreptitious glance over her shoulder, she whispered, “I think someone is impersonating me.”
All of that was suspicious but not necessarily proof. “Anything else?”
“A barista at a coffee shop near the building where I work also mentioned seeing me.”
“How well do you know the barista?”
“Not at all. I only stopped there because I was running late that day. It was the first time I’d ever been in that shop.”
Possible explanations buzzed through his head. A doppelgänger was bizarre, yet not necessarily outside the realm of possibilities. Selling classified information was lucrative, but extremely risky for both the buyer and seller. Deflecting the blame created a tactical advantage.
“Have you informed your supervisor?” he asked.
“Informed him of what?” She splayed her hands. “That someone who looks like me parked their car in the lot and entered the building? How do I prove it wasn’t me?”
She had a point. Depending on the clarity of the cameras and how well the impostor resembled her, there might not be a way to tell the difference.
“What do you know about the data breach?” He shifted directions. “What were they after?”
“I don’t know. No one is talking.” She ducked her head. “I think they’re watching me. There’s a chance my phone has been tapped. I even thought a car was following me today. Anything is possible.”
That was an understatement.
She had no idea the sorts of surveillance that were possible these days, even for civilians. “The car you thought was following you—do you know the make and model?”
“A white sedan. Like a Toyota Corolla or something similar.” She snapped her fingers. “There’s something else. I got a couple of weird texts. They didn’t make any sense, so I figured it was a wrong number.”
“Do you still have them?”
“No. I deleted the thread. Like I said, I thought they were a mistake until the other stuff started happening.”
He didn’t believe in coincidences. Nearly a year ago, he’d lost his friend and colleague to a suicide bomber. This morning he’d discovered Brandt, with no apparent logical motivation, had lied to him about an engagement ring. He’d also learned that Lucy was the possible target of a frame-up.
That was one too many odd occurrences for his peace of mind.
“If what you suspect is true,” Jordan began, “and someone is impersonating you to steal information, then you’re at risk. You need protection.”
He’d promised to look out for Lucy if anything ever happened to Brandt, and he’d already failed in that duty. He should have contacted her sooner, but he’d been a coward.
He’d been avoiding this meeting, hoping his feelings had faded. She’d been through enough already. She was vulnerable, and he wasn’t going to take advantage of her. He owed that much to Brandt. Being near her would be punishing; maybe she was the penance he deserved.
“Never mind.” Lucy twisted around, reaching for the voluminous leather tote hanging on the back of her chair. “Forget I said anything. I’m sure it’s all a mistake anyway.”
Jordan absently touched his breast pocket, then decided against saying anything. He didn’t know what the second ring meant, and there was no reason to upset her. Until he knew otherwise, he was dedicated to preserving Brandt’s memory. He’d be loyal in his actions if not his feelings.
“Lucy—”
His next words froze on the tip of his tongue. Through the coffee shop window, he saw a white sedan appear. The unmistakable glint of a gun barrel caught his attention. Jordan’s training kicked into action, and he launched himself over the table to protect Lucy.
At Jordan’s swift movement, Lucy startled. The glass pane at the front of the shop exploded. Time slowed and Jordan caught hold of her. Shards of glass showered over them, clattering to the floor like a hailstorm. He dragged her down, and they both tumbled over her chair. She braced for a painful landing, but he angled his body at the last minute, taking the worst of the blow. The jolt knocked the air from her lungs.
A woman screamed, and a table crashed near Lucy’s head. Someone was shooting at them.
Voices sounded in panic from all directions, and she struggled to make sense of the commotion. Jordan kept her anchored in place, and she instinctively fought the restriction. Adrenaline pumped through her veins, urging her into fight-or-flight mode.
“I need a better vantage point,” he whispered roughly, retrieving a gun from inside his jacket. “Stay down and out of sight. I’ll let you know when it’s safe to move toward the exit.”
A loud bang was followed by a dusty spray of plaster.
Without giving her a chance to protest, Jordan moved away.
When she reached for him, her fingers closed around air.
Several customers cowered behind tables while others crouched in place. Everyone was frozen in terror. She had to think. She’d gone through active shooter training at work. Human Resources had been relentless in drilling the instructions. Run first, hide if necessary, fight back as a last resort.
A dark-haired woman in a bright yellow shirt crouched near the front of the shop, her hands covering her ears. Another pop sounded, and glass rained over the woman’s head. She screamed and rocked back and forth.
Fight or flight. Fight or flight. Fight or flight.
The words echoed like a mantra through Lucy’s head. Her vision wavered.
Flight.
“Stay low,” Jordan shouted. “Get to the back of the store.”
“This way!” Lucy called to the woman in yellow. She gestured toward the service counter. She’d seen workers entering from the back on numerous occasions. “There’s an exit through the kitchen.”
The woman crawled a few feet, her movements jerky and uncoordinated.
The top pane of the front door burst into a thousand tiny shards. Lucy flattened her body and covered her head. Paralyzed by the terror pumping through her veins, her hands tingled.
“Please, God,” Lucy begged, “give me strength.”
In an attempt to contain her fear, she focused on the woman in yellow. “You’re doing great. Keep going. You’re almost there.”
Their eyes locked, and Lucy saw her own horror mirrored in the woman’s gaze. The reality of their situation nearly undid her, and she fought for control.
“Get to the exit!” Jordan shouted.
“What about you?”
“I’m right behind you.”
She peered cautiously from behind her shelter. He’d positioned himself at the front of the store, his gun drawn. Given Brandt’s praise of him, she had no doubt he’d sacrifice his life to prevent the shooter from coming through that door. He was offering himself as a shield to let them escape.
Another bullet ripped over her head, shattering a picture on the back wall. Lucy screamed. Tears blurred her vision. Though she was reluctant to leave Jordan behind, she didn’t want his sacrifice to be in vain. The woman in yellow had reached the relative safety of the service counter. She had a clear path to the exit.
As Lucy belly-crawled in her wake toward the kitchen, she encountered