Sudden Recall by Lisa Phillips Read Free Book Online Page A

shoebox over. She wanted to smash the thing, but then she’d have nowhere to store the secret treasures of a woman who didn’t exist anymore. Maybe she never would.
    On an exhale, Sienna righted the box and restowed the items. When it was secure, with the rubber bands replaced, she went to the closet and tucked it in her duffel. Who knew what the night would bring? If she had to run, she wanted the hidden things with her.
    Sienna glanced at her closed bedroom door. Did she want to face her aunt? Karen was keeping secrets from her. Why else would she have asked Sienna if she had killed her attackers? Now Sienna knew why her aunt had thought that. But was it real? Was she a killer?
    She got ready for bed. She was done with this awful day where her life had upended. With a sigh, she closed the bathroom door and went to the window. The night outside was dark, but the only light came from the living room to her right. Sienna had turned off her lamp so she could better see the stars, but it was cloudy. Not a night to dwell on the magnitude of things around her.
    The backyard was an expanse of damp grass from the rains they’d had the past week, but was now twice as green. Bad with the good, just like everything in her life.
    The trees swayed in the breeze, though her barn was silent. The animals were fine.
    The quiet just reminded her that no one needed her. At least, not until she recalled whatever it was she’d forgotten. Then maybe everyone would stop giving her indecipherable looks or walking on eggshells as they bypassed her to get on with their important lives.
    A flash of motion by the barn.
    She’d painted it herself, because every barn should be red. Plain wood was a travesty. Probably just a small animal foraging.
    It moved again. Bigger than a critter. The size of a grown man.

FIVE
    P arker swiped his card in the reader. The buzzer went off. He pushed open the heavy door and strode into the office. Despite it being way past midnight, at least half of those who worked there milled around. Their team and two others shared the floor, one of whom was in and prepping for an early-morning raid.
    Wyatt sat behind his desk, peering intently at the screen on his computer.
    Parker hung his coat on the back of his chair. “Did you lose your reading glasses again?”
    Wyatt shot Parker a disgusted look that only made him laugh. They were all late thirties, and Wyatt bemoaned—constantly—the fact he’d been prescribed glasses for his headaches instead of less paperwork and more fieldwork.
    Wyatt clicked his mouse. “Paperwork on the detainee is done. I put in a request for some background on him, but we likely won’t know who he is until we run his prints. Even then, given his accent, we may be looking at Homeland Security or Interpol. Who knows where this guy surfaced from?”
    Parker slumped into his chair. “My guess, they’re going to show up as ex-military. Foreign, but the country won’t matter much. One was Italian. The others weren’t.”
    â€œSo why is a team of foreign mercenaries trying to kidnap your girl-with-amnesia?” Wyatt grinned. “Is she some kind of spy?”
    Parker stayed quiet.
    â€œShe is?” Wyatt busted up laughing. “Seriously? Little Sienna Cartwright is CIA?”
    Parker was too tired; otherwise, he’d have thrown a paperweight at his partner. “I fail to see why this is funny. My guess, whatever her last mission was, it went unresolved and that’s why she was almost abducted by foreign mercenaries.”
    Wyatt’s smile dropped. “Whoa.”
    It had happened a few times. Those moments where it became clear there was a world between Parker’s experience as a SEAL, traveling the world, meeting a CIA agent, and Wyatt’s experience being a city police detective. Sure, they were both small-town US marshals, but the roads they had traveled to get there were vastly different.
    Wyatt swallowed.