Identity Unknown (A Parker & Coe, Love and Bullets Thriller Book 1) by Alana Matthews Page B
Authors: Alana Matthews
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shot me a look. "You registered that complaint five minutes ago."
We were on foot now, having left the truck parked three blocks over in front of an auto body shop. We were close to Hunter City University and headed in that direction.
"Yeah, well, if you hadn't been in such a hurry to get me off that bus, I'd still have my purse and—"
"You registered that one, too," Parker said. "Have you ever heard of a little concept called move on ?"
"You don't have to be nasty about it."
"This is your idea, remember? I'm still not convinced you aren't gonna try to kill me the first time I turn my back on you."
I rolled my eyes. Talk about moving on.
"Not that I'm trying to wound your pride," I said, "but if I really were Mia Duncan, I have a feeling you'd be dead by now. For real."
"You think so, huh?"
"You forget that Emily was a friend of mine. At least I thought she was."
"So you've said."
"It's the truth. And we may be semi-doppelgangers, but the one thing she has that I don't is muscle. You should see her arms. That Zumba class isn't her only form of exercise, and I'm pretty sure she would've taken you down on that bus the moment you tried to put the cuffs on her."
Parker shot me another look. "I was a U.S. Marshal for three years, and that gave me enough field experience to learn how to deal with perps—female, musclebound, or. . ."
He swiveled his head suddenly, looking toward the street, then grabbed hold of me and pulled me into the shadows of an alleyway. I was about to protest when he shushed me, and seconds later I heard the rumble of an engine and saw something I had hoped I'd never see again:
Taggart's patrol car.
Parker pinned me against the wall with his body, holding me there in the darkness until the cruiser rolled past. When it was gone, we both let out relieved breaths, then Parker pulled me toward the rear of the alley into a pool of moonlight behind two Dumpsters. A moment later he was manhandling me again, sticking his hands into the pockets of my pants.
"Hey, what do you think you're doing?"
"Hold still." He kept rummaging around, not finding what he was looking for, then said, "Take off your clothes."
I gaped at him. "What?"
"Do it. Now."
"Are you out of your freaking—"
"Taggart planted a tracker on you. I'm not sure how sophisticated it is, but he couldn't have found us this fast without one. He's got a signal and he knows we're around here somewhere. Trust me."
"But he had me cuffed. Why would he plant a tracker on me?"
"Because he's a professional and he's smart enough to prepare for contingencies. Now take off your clothes or I'll take them off for you. We need to find that thing and we don't have much time."
I just stared at him. There was enough moonlight streaming into the alleyway that he wouldn't have any trouble seeing me in all my glory—mismatched underwear and all. But as much as I hated to admit it, he was right. If that asshole Taggart had planted a tracker on me, we needed to find it.
"Come on, come on," Parker said. "Don't think, just do."
I was wearing what I always wear to work—a pants suit that would need to be dumped if I somehow managed to get out of this alive. I pulled off my jacket, handed it to him, and started unbuttoning my blouse.
"Faster," he said, inspecting the jacket. "He's probably circling the block as we speak."
I picked up speed, got the blouse off, and Parker checked the collar and cuffs as I unzipped my pants and stepped out of them. He took them from me, and had the decency not to stare.
Unfortunately, it didn't last. After finding nothing hidden in the pant legs, he looked up, his gaze falling directly on my bra and thong.
"Those, too," he said.
"Unh-uh, no way."
"What're we in high school? I need to check them out."
"Do what you've gotta do, but I'd like to keep at least some of my dignity. I'm not taking them off."
A car approached and we both froze, relieved as it continued past the mouth of the alley. When it was gone, Parker
We were on foot now, having left the truck parked three blocks over in front of an auto body shop. We were close to Hunter City University and headed in that direction.
"Yeah, well, if you hadn't been in such a hurry to get me off that bus, I'd still have my purse and—"
"You registered that one, too," Parker said. "Have you ever heard of a little concept called move on ?"
"You don't have to be nasty about it."
"This is your idea, remember? I'm still not convinced you aren't gonna try to kill me the first time I turn my back on you."
I rolled my eyes. Talk about moving on.
"Not that I'm trying to wound your pride," I said, "but if I really were Mia Duncan, I have a feeling you'd be dead by now. For real."
"You think so, huh?"
"You forget that Emily was a friend of mine. At least I thought she was."
"So you've said."
"It's the truth. And we may be semi-doppelgangers, but the one thing she has that I don't is muscle. You should see her arms. That Zumba class isn't her only form of exercise, and I'm pretty sure she would've taken you down on that bus the moment you tried to put the cuffs on her."
Parker shot me another look. "I was a U.S. Marshal for three years, and that gave me enough field experience to learn how to deal with perps—female, musclebound, or. . ."
He swiveled his head suddenly, looking toward the street, then grabbed hold of me and pulled me into the shadows of an alleyway. I was about to protest when he shushed me, and seconds later I heard the rumble of an engine and saw something I had hoped I'd never see again:
Taggart's patrol car.
Parker pinned me against the wall with his body, holding me there in the darkness until the cruiser rolled past. When it was gone, we both let out relieved breaths, then Parker pulled me toward the rear of the alley into a pool of moonlight behind two Dumpsters. A moment later he was manhandling me again, sticking his hands into the pockets of my pants.
"Hey, what do you think you're doing?"
"Hold still." He kept rummaging around, not finding what he was looking for, then said, "Take off your clothes."
I gaped at him. "What?"
"Do it. Now."
"Are you out of your freaking—"
"Taggart planted a tracker on you. I'm not sure how sophisticated it is, but he couldn't have found us this fast without one. He's got a signal and he knows we're around here somewhere. Trust me."
"But he had me cuffed. Why would he plant a tracker on me?"
"Because he's a professional and he's smart enough to prepare for contingencies. Now take off your clothes or I'll take them off for you. We need to find that thing and we don't have much time."
I just stared at him. There was enough moonlight streaming into the alleyway that he wouldn't have any trouble seeing me in all my glory—mismatched underwear and all. But as much as I hated to admit it, he was right. If that asshole Taggart had planted a tracker on me, we needed to find it.
"Come on, come on," Parker said. "Don't think, just do."
I was wearing what I always wear to work—a pants suit that would need to be dumped if I somehow managed to get out of this alive. I pulled off my jacket, handed it to him, and started unbuttoning my blouse.
"Faster," he said, inspecting the jacket. "He's probably circling the block as we speak."
I picked up speed, got the blouse off, and Parker checked the collar and cuffs as I unzipped my pants and stepped out of them. He took them from me, and had the decency not to stare.
Unfortunately, it didn't last. After finding nothing hidden in the pant legs, he looked up, his gaze falling directly on my bra and thong.
"Those, too," he said.
"Unh-uh, no way."
"What're we in high school? I need to check them out."
"Do what you've gotta do, but I'd like to keep at least some of my dignity. I'm not taking them off."
A car approached and we both froze, relieved as it continued past the mouth of the alley. When it was gone, Parker
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