She nodded, looked away and toyed with a French fry, dunking it in ketchup before using it to doodle on her burger wrapper.
Apparently she had it under control, but she had still gone to the cops. She was scared. She was in over her head. And she was a sitting duck.
“What are the cops doing?”
“A detective is looking into it.”
“Into...” He let his voice drag out, hoping she’d fill in the blanks because there were still a lot of them in her tale.
Brown eyes, narrow and uncertain, met his gaze, and he could see the battle just beyond them. There was more to tell, but she barely knew him.
Someone had threatened her life, and opening up about that wasn’t easy.
Luke hadn’t talked to anyone except the navy chaplain about the suicide bomber who had nearly blown off his leg. And Bianca, of course. Back when she’d been his girlfriend. That conversation had started with him laying it all out on the line—an uncertain future, months of PT, maybe never returning to active duty—and had ended with her walking out of his life for good. After that, he hadn’t talked about his leg, even with his swim buddy and best friend, Will Gumble—Willie G. to his teammates. Putting his pride on the line was riskier than walking through a minefield, so it was easier to just keep it inside.
Except the memories gnawed on his insides like a hungry dog, leaving him raw and sore.
Whatever haunted Mandy probably warred within her, too. To talk about it or not to talk about it. It was a lose-lose situation.
* * *
Mandy crumpled her hamburger wrapper around the last bite, her stomach suddenly not at all interested in finishing the meal. There was something else chewing at her, an urge to tell Luke what was really going on.
His gaze dipped to her hands, and he watched her fingers work the crinkling paper into a ball for a long second. “You don’t have to tell me anything that you don’t want to. I get it. I’ve been there.”
“I’d guess you’re still there.” The words popped out as soon as she thought them, and she clapped a hand over her mouth.
A wry grin curved the corner of his lips, and he shrugged one shoulder. “You might be right. Looks like we have more in common than we thought.”
Maybe it was the knowing spark in his eye or the understanding in his tone. But something made her snap, the truth—all of it—spilling out before she could overanalyze the reasons why she should keep her distance.
“About two years ago, I realized that my identity had been stolen. Nothing that a thousand others haven’t dealt with. Credit cards taken out in my name, debt racked up. That kind of thing. I reported it to the credit bureaus and law enforcement, but it just seemed to get worse. And then someone tried to hijack my professional license.”
Luke’s eyebrows pulled together, but the rest of his face remained even. A slow nod encouraged her to continue.
“I only caught that because it was time for renewal, and I had turned in my paperwork a bit early. Two days later they received another renewal with my name but a different address.”
“And that address...”
“Was a fake.” Mandy put her elbows on the table and leaned a little closer to Luke so she could keep her voice low. “It’s like there’s a phantom after me. No name, no address, no face. They’re always three steps ahead of the police.”
“And they’re doing a pretty good job of making your life miserable.”
Her gaze snapped to meet Luke’s. “Yes.”
He narrowed his eyes, the skin above his nose wrinkling. “And...”
“How did you know? That there’s more?”
“Identity thieves don’t usually jump to attempted murder in one leap.”
Murder.
The word made her tremble, and she closed her eyes, only to find headlights bearing down on her once again. Gasping a strangled breath, she looked up just as his hand rested on her fist. Jerking away, she squared her shoulders and forced her back ramrod straight.
Yes. That had been attempted murder just an hour before. She knew it. So did he.
“Why do you think the two are connected?”
She inhaled deeply through her nose and exhaled, like she perpetually told her patients to do. “Someone’s been in my home.”
His mouth dropped open. “Did you report it?”
“I couldn’t. I didn’t have anything to report.” The questions in his eyes didn’t require words, so she continued on. “It wasn’t a blatant breaking and entering. Nothing was broken or taken. But things were moved, just enough to let me know that someone’s been in there.”
“What are you doing to protect yourself?” His voice was firm, almost demanding, and his broad shoulders stiffened. Suddenly his boyish face turned stern, strict. “It’s not safe for you to be there alone. Not if someone is getting in and out without trashing the door or breaking windows.”
She offered him a half smile for his concern. “I know. I had an alarm system installed as soon as I realized something was off. The alarm hasn’t been triggered, and my stalker hasn’t been back.”
“Who else knows the alarm code?”
“Just the guy who installed it.”
Mandy gave herself a mental pat on the back as Luke’s muscles began to relax, his clenched jaw easing into a more natural expression. She was doing everything she could do to keep herself safe.
“Have you thought about a dog?”
Well, almost everything she could do. “I’m allergic.”
“Who’s watching your six?”
“My six?”
“Your back. In the SEALs we don’t go anywhere without a buddy. You can’t see behind you at your six o’clock, so you need someone who can.” When she didn’t immediately respond, he gave her hand a gentle nudge. “Do you have family nearby or a good friend?”
“I...” Her voice trailed off as a coolness settled over her. “My family is all back in Colorado. And we’re not very close, so when I came out here for school, I just stayed.”
“A friend, then?” His eyes were filled with hope as deep as the Pacific, and she wanted more than anything to give him the answer he was looking for.
She shook her head. “It—it takes a lot to get a business going. I have friends at Pacific Coast House—”
“Ashley Waterstone,” he interrupted, a little grin spreading across his face. “She made me come to see you.”
“I know.” Mandy pursed her lips to the side at the memory of Ashley’s call. She’d been nearly as intimidating as her six-foot-two SEAL husband when she’d told Mandy that she had a friend in need of help. Mandy just hadn’t planned on the man sitting across the table from her, his crooked grin and boyish charm a little too disarming. A little too much like Gary’s.
She’d made the right decision turning Luke away.
She had.
She was certain.
Almost.
Luke’s head bowed as his shoulders rose and fell in an even rhythm. He almost looked as if he was praying, until he glanced up without moving his head. “I think we both know that Ashley, Staci, Jess and the others at Pacific Coast House can’t afford to get mixed up in this situation. They have families to think about.”
His tone was filled with as