“It’s not me,” she repeated. She’d never even met anyone in the CIA—at least not until today.
“Your real name is Jamie Dalton. You were born in Baltimore, Maryland.”
She didn’t want to hear this but she couldn’t seem to think of the right words to make him go away. This couldn’t be real. Maybe she was hallucinating.
“I don’t know a Jamie Dalton,” she told him flatly, and yet she rolled the name around in her mind to see if it stirred a response.Jamie.It didn’t feel wrong, but it couldn’t be right. No, she denied. She wasn’t the Jamie he was talking about. She couldn’t be. She was Ami Donovan now. Her past was gone.
“You were a second-year medical student when we met.” He averted his gaze briefly as if it pained him to remember. “Your father was Jamison Dalton, a politically connected man who knew his way around the wealthy and the powerful in this country. His ability to pull together financing made him a strategic player in the success of a new, top-secret antiterrorism force. The private sector had been secretly helping certain elements of the government, of which I’m not at liberty to discuss, put together this joint force. Your father was assassinated by someone who wanted that effort to fail.”
Tanner was silent for a moment, allowing her to absorb what he’d said so far. She understood his words, yet every fiber of her being rejected it as truth. This simply could not be.
“You were devastated by his death. It was when I was investigating his murder that I first saw you. I couldn’t believe my eyes. You were the exact double of Amira Peres.”
When Ami frowned, he hastened to explain, “Yael Peres was the man responsible for your father’s death. We—the CIA—approached you about helping us bring him down. You agreed. We would never have been able to get close to him without your help. He was too good at hiding his wrongdoing…too well thought of in his home country, which he rarely left.”
Whoa! She couldn’t listen to any more of this. It was too, too much. Ami held up a hand for him to stop right there. “Mr. Tanner—”
“Jack,” he interrupted. “You called me Jack…before.”
She tried to read what exactly he meant by that statement but this was all far too confusing. It couldn’t be real. “Jack, I don’t know this Jamie Dalton. And I don’t know you. There has to be some kind of mix-up.”
“You have a birthmark on your left hip. It’s shaped like a star. And you absolutely hate strawberries.”
Ice slid slowly through her veins. How could he know those things? He…he couldn’t know her. She didn’t know him. None of this felt right. She didn’t want to be Jamie Dalton.
“It took me six weeks to get you ready,” he continued. “We worked together day and night.” He pressed her with that deep brown gaze, urging her to remember.
She shook her head. “I don’t remember you.” He flinched. Had they…? No. No. That couldn’t be. This was crazy.
“You went undercover as Peres’s estranged daughter. You were under for three months. I lost contact with you that last month. And then we lost you. We…” His voice trailed off and silence hung between them for three endless beats. “We thought the Israelis had executed you.”
Enough! “Why would they want to execute me?” she demanded, ready to march out of this room and call Security to take this nutcase away. This was the craziest story she’d ever heard. It sounded like a movie, not someone’s life. Certainly not hers. She lived on Piedmont Street in a nice little home with perfect neighbors with the perfect man who loved her and whom she’d foolishly refused to marry.
“You set up Peres. He was a highly respected man and a personal friend of the Israeli prime minister’s.”
“Set him up?” Ami shook her head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You made sure he was in the right place at the right time and your lover killed him.”
Ami lunged to her feet, her sluggish self-protective instincts charging into high gear. “You, Mr. Tanner, are either mistaken or totally insane. I am not a killer or an undercover agent. I’m just an ER nurse whose break time is over.” She smoothed her sweating palms over her smock. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
Tanner stood, blocking her path when she would have walked away. He reached into his pocket yet again and brought out another photograph. “This man is Michal Arad. He’s the single most vicious freelance terrorist in the world today. You were his lover for those three months. You talked him into taking down Peres.”
Ami stared at the dark man in the picture. His long black hair was fastened at his nape. Sunglasses shielded his eyes, but nothing could hide the power that emanated from him even in a slightly out-of-focus, worn photograph. Something moved in a distant corner of her heart…something she couldn’t name and didn’t want to feel.
“This is the only photograph we have of him. He’s elusive as well as vicious. But during the Peres mission he took the bait just like a lovesick puppy.”
Ami’s gaze shifted upward to Tanner. She had been the bait, if all he said was true. But it couldn’t be true. She wouldn’t let it be true. “I don’t know this man and I don’t know you.” She stepped around him and headed for the door.
“Miss Donovan…Jamie—”
She turned to find him two steps behind her. “I’m going to summon Security,” she warned. “If I were you, I’d find my way to the nearest exit.”
“I can understand how all this must sound to you. But you have to believe me. Your life depends upon it.”
“And how is that?” she snapped, her nerves jangling and raw. This was beyond insane. None of this could be true. He surely didn’t expect her to believe this ridiculous nonsense.
“I told you that we’ve thought you were dead for the past two years,” he urged. “Well, so have the Israelis. Now they know different. If word got to me within a few hours, how long do you think it will take them to order an assassin team to finish the job they started two years ago?”
