Page 43 of Rawhide and Ransom

Annalee raised her head. “You should start by contacting all the prisons nearby.”

“And mental wards,” Hawk added soberly. “Your imposter didn’t say anything about being arrested, only about being locked up. What if she was institutionalized instead of incarcerated?”

“Now,there’sa thought!” Annalee’s eyes widened. “It still doesn’t shed any light on who she is.”

“She claims she’s family,” Tucker reminded in a cautious voice.

“She’s also been telling everyone who calls my daughter’s old number that she’s me.” Annalee wasn’t sure the case could get any more bizarre. “Miley is the only blood relative I have left.”

Tucker waved a hand vaguely. “That you know of.” He pulled his laptop closer and started typing.

She scowled at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He shook his head. “I should probably apologize ahead of time for what I’m about to do.”

“Which is,” she prodded when he fell silent.

“I’m about to hack into a secure database.” He grimaced and kept typing. “Don’t worry. I’m no longer on Lonestar Security’s server, so none of this can be traced back to us. As you’re probably starting to figure out, I haven’t lived a perfect life. Some of the skill sets I’ve picked up along the way fall into what a lot of people would consider a gray area.”

As in illegal?“What database?” Annalee pressed with a worried look at Hawk.

His expression was unreadable.

“It’s best if you don’t know.” Tucker kept typing. “It gives you plausible deniability if anyone questions you about what I’m doing.” All they could hear for the next several minutes was the sound of him tapping on his keyboard.

At one point, he looked up from his work to wave a finger between Hawk and Annalee. “So, are you two together?”

Hawk tipped his chair closer to get a better look at the screen. “What gave you that idea, Sherlock?”

“I knew it!” Tucker grinned gleefully.

“Then why’d you ask?” Hawk grumbled.

“Ah! Here we go.” Tucker sat back, pointing at his computer screen with both hands. “I’m ninety-nine percent sure this is our gal.”

“Only ninety-nine, eh?” Hawk’s voice was dry.

“I was trying to be modest,” the P.I. snickered.

“That was quick.” Annalee wished she could tell if he was just being cocky or if he was for real. “What makes you so sure she’s the lunatic we’re looking for?”

“Whoa!” Tucker darted several glances between her and his computer screen. Pure astonishment was painted across his face. “Either someone hacked into her patient file and uploaded a photo of you, Mrs. Gilbert, or you have a double out there.”

She stared at him blankly, waiting for him to explain.

Tucker pointed at his computer screen. “Her name is Mirabelle Gilbert.”

“She has the same last name as me?” Annalee straightened in her seat. It felt like more than a coincidence. Something heavy settled in her chest.

“Yep. She’s a patient at a state hospital under a court-ordered confinement for violent behavior toward herself and others. Until a few months ago, that is. Looks like she escaped the lockdown area.”

Annalee dragged in a choking breath. “Did this happen before or after my first hit-and-run collision?”

“Before.” Tucker’s voice was grave.

Hawk stood and moved behind him to look over his shoulder. “Mirabelle Gilbert looks identical to you.” The quiet concern in his voice was unnerving. He wouldn’t joke about something so serious.

The first tendrils of real alarm crept through Annalee’s midsection. “I can’t explain that.”

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