Silas (Dirty Aces MC #4) - Lane Hart Page 0,50
brain function since he was brought in. The doctor believes that after the attack, he went without oxygen for too long…”
“Oh no,” I whisper before I finally glance over at the still form on the bed, so tall and strong. It doesn’t seem right for him to be here with wires and cords coming out of his arm and…
Wait a second.
“This is an old man!” I exclaim when I get a closer look at his wrinkled face and short brown hair sprinkled with gray.
“Aren’t you his wife?” the nurse asked.
“Who is this?” I ask. “This is not Samuel Sheppard!”
“Ah, I’m sorry, ma’am, but yes, it is.”
“No, Sam is young, not even thirty.”
“Mr. Sheppard is fifty-eight.”
“There’s obviously been some mistake,” I assure her. “Sam is an FBI agent, and he’s half this man’s age.”
“I can assure you that we are certain of his identity. He came in with his license. A neighbor found him in the driveway and called 9-1-1.”
“Then it must be a common name, right? The FBI office has made a mistake.”
“This gentleman is also an FBI agent,” the nurse tells me. “Several of his coworkers have called to see how he’s doing, but he hasn’t had a single visitor in the seven or so weeks he’s been here. It’s a shame too, since we’ve had to keep him this way for so long, barely hanging on. I know it’s an incredibly tough decision and you should talk to the doctor, but he’ll probably suggest that you sign the paperwork for us to take him off life support.”
“Seven weeks? He’s been here for seven weeks?” I repeat since that must be a coincidence. That’s how long it’s been since I left town with the other Agent Sheppard. What are the chances there are two of them? That seems…high unlikely.
“That’s right. It was seven weeks ago when this poor gentleman was brutally attacked outside of his home. Law enforcement isn’t sure who is responsible but they’re assuming it was a suspect he’s arrested in the past coming after him for revenge.”
“I-I feel sick,” I say as I clutch my stomach that’s been aching on and off all day. I slump down into the leather chair behind me, while trying to think this through. I need to call the FBI office again, see if they made a mistake or confirm that there are, in fact, two agents with the same name.
But that’s impossible, right?
Sam showed me his badge. He gave me a new name, new IDs, a home, a restaurant. He definitely worked for the FBI and Witness Protection. He has to! Why else would he help me relocate?
Once I’m able to stand up without throwing up, I hurry out of the ICU and outside to call the FBI office again.
Thankfully, the same receptionist answers. She assures me that there is only one Samuel Sheppard who worked there, and he was fifty-eight. Only one Samuel Sheppard in the entire FBI across the whole country too, because I asked her to check the entire freaking database.
Which means, I have no fucking clue who the man I left town with, slept with, fell in love with, and got knocked up by, actually is!
I sit in my car in the hospital parking lot with the windows down, trying to think all of this through. There has to be some other explanation, I just don’t know what it is yet. I try to start from the very beginning.
What do I know for a fact? What has to be documented in writing from the last few weeks?
After a quick search for the realtor on the island, I call her up.
“Sandra Haskins Realty. Can I help you?” a polite lady answers.
“Is this Sandra?” I ask.
“Yes.”
“Then can you tell me who rented my house and bought my restaurant?”
“I’m sorry?” she asks.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I quickly rattle off the two addresses.
“Oh yes! The lovely three-bedroom home with a massive kitchen and the old clothing store. They were both purchased by a charming young man, Silas Sheppard.”
“Sheppard,” I repeat as my chest tightens. “You’re sure his name was Silas Sheppard.”
“Yes. All identification documents were required at the closing for the title work. He paid for both in cash.”
“He bought them both?” I gasp in disbelief, having no clue how much that would be but easily a couple of million dollars.
“Yes.”
“And you saw his ID, and it said his name is Silas?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Sandra responds. “Is there something else I can help you with?”
“N-no, that’s…that’s all. Sorry to bother you,”