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Mistaken Assassin

By Cynthia Hickey

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1
Marilu Hutchins opened her eyes and stared at the man in bed next to her. He wasn’t her husband. Her husband was, or used to be, Jack Hutchins. He’d been her world…and she’d killed him.
Her heart thudded, pounding out a heavy metal beat in her ears. Without moving her head, she glanced out of the corner of her eyes at the man sleeping beside her. She willed her heart rate to slow, her breathing to quiet.
With the force of a tornado, Mari’s memory returned, along with the horror of watching her husband gunned down. She again felt the bullets rip through her flesh. She heard her cries as she reached for Jack, then darkness as her head had collided with the rock.
Tears welled and flowed, soaking the pillow beneath her head. They’d had a child. A little girl. Was she with Mari’s parents? Were they still living in the small Ozark town Mari had grown up in?
Placing her palms flat on the mattress, she pushed herself slowly to a sitting position and slid her legs over the side of the bed. A low snort from the man beside her caused her to freeze, until his snoring resumed. What would he do, this John Hoover as she knew him, if he discovered her memory had returned? Surely he knew she wasn’t really Stacy Hoover. Right? He couldn’t be innocent in this game of deceit, could he?
Without turning on the bedroom light, she felt her way to the bathroom. Her fingers trailed over the cool walls. She trod over the plush fibers of the carpet. After closing the door, she stuffed a towel under the door and locked it before switching on the light. Her eyes widened as she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror.
A stranger stared back. One with light crow’s feet spreading away from deep blue eyes that her Jack had said he could drown in. A short razor cut had her blonde hair framing cheeks which had lost their youthful roundness.
Mari frowned. She racked her brain for details. Details of her past. How long had she been lost? Ten years? Eleven? Her baby would be twelve…if she were still alive. She shook her head. What had caused these apparent memories to return?
“Stacy?” A knock on the door caused her to whirl around. She covered her mouth to stifle the scream igniting in her throat. She despised this sign of fear that came with surprise. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine … John. I’m sorry I woke you.” Mari took a deep breath to calm herself.
“Let me in.” The door handle rattled.
She kicked the towel away and unlocked the door, stepping back as it swung open. John’s brown eyes squinted beneath his mussed dark hair. “Are you all right? Are you sick?”
Concern etched his features and nausea rose in Mari’s stomach at the man’s award-winning act. Well, she’d been trained to act, too. “I’m feeling sick to my stomach.” She turned away and planted her hands against the sink. “Go back to bed. I’ll be there in a minute. It’s only female problems. Nothing to worry about.”
It took every ounce of will power she possessed not to jerk away when he placed his hands on her. Strong hands kneaded the knots in her shoulders.
“You sure you don’t want me to sit with you?”
She shook her head. “You’ve got work tomorrow. I’ll be fine. Really.” She turned back to him and forced her lips into the semblance of a smile.
He frowned. His head tilted to one side as he studied her. “Okay, honey.” He stepped forward and planted a kiss on her forehead. “Try to get some rest. I’m not the only one who’s got work in a few hours.”
Mari forced her gaze to meet his. “Sure. I’ll be there soon.”
Her knees buckled, threatening to give way as he turned and left, pulling the door closed behind him. Sobs rose in her throat, and she choked them back. She lunged for the toilet, losing the contents of her stomach before sliding to the floor.
Ten years. Gone. Lost in the recesses of her tormented mind while she’d played at being wife to a stranger. She searched her brain for what could have triggered the return of her memory.
They’d stayed home last night. Rented a movie. An older release. About an international spy. An assassin whose memory had returned and rocked her world. The movie had made her uncomfortable. Fidgety. Now she knew why. She’d been the same as the main character … once upon a time.
The memories continued to bombard her, and she felt herself hurled through space, back to that fateful time when she’d killed her husband as surely as if she’d pulled the trigger herself.

They’d left Jeanna with Mari’s parents and taken a picnic lunch to the mountains. Mari had important news to tell her husband, Jack. News she wasn’t sure how he’d react to once he’d heard.
They were an assassination team. The two of them. Guns for hire. Living well off the money they earned. Then, Mari had failed an assignment. Her first assignment. She found herself unable to pull the trigger on the minister within her sights. She didn’t know why the man of God was a target, only that she’d accepted the assignment. Instead, she’d found herself listening to the message he practiced as he paced the floor of his office. Her heart constricted. She’d lowered her weapon, sliding to the floor, the wall against her back. It was because of the man’s words of love and forgiveness that she’d accepted Christ that day. She’d planned on telling Jack during their picnic.
She’d hand-fed him as they giggled like two love-struck teenagers. Then she’d dropped the bombshell on him. Mari knew he’d be angry, but foreknowledge didn’t prepare her for his reaction. He’d erupted in anger. Screamed that she’d killed them both. His steel gray eyes had focused on her in cold fury, freezing her heart. He grabbed both her arms and shook her, rattling her teeth. Then the shots had rung out.
Jack spun around in a macabre dance as three bullets slammed into him. Two more drove through Mari, throwing her to the ground. She’d seen the rock in that split second before her head connected with it.

That’s all she remembered. Not how she got out of that place or how she’d ended up with John Hoover. She suspected he was her guardian. A man put in place to find out what she remembered, when, and if she ever did. But what was it they wanted her to show them? What were they afraid of her knowing? Why not kill her and leave her body beside that of her husband?
She’d stalled enough. Mari pushed to her feet and stumbled to the sink. She filled her cupped hands under the faucet and rinsed the sour taste from her mouth. Turning to the door, she eased it open. John would be leaving for work in a few hours, and Mari had plans to make.
The door squeaked as she swung it open. She halted, catching her breath at the sight of John sitting on the edge of the bed.
“Feel better?” His hard voice caused her limbs to tremble.
“I threw up.”
“That’s too bad.” He patted the mattress beside him. “Join me, Stacy.”
She scooted her feet across the carpet. “I’ll sit in the easy chair. I’m sure I’ll be up again. I don’t want to keep you awake.” Her body tensed, poised for flight.
“Well.” He clenched his fist and rolled his head around on his neck. “It was bound to happen sooner or later. How much do you remember?”
His words stopped her midway to sitting on the chair. Her rump suspended over the cushion as she balanced her hands on the arms of the chair. “What?”
He stood and began to pace. “Don’t play stupid with me, Marilu. How much do you remember?”
“Remember what? John, you’re scaring me. Who’s Marilu?” Mari rose and paced opposite him, the two circling each other like wrestlers in a ring. She thanked God for the fact she’d slept in flannel pants and a tee shirt instead of a nightgown.
John held his hands loose at his side. “Darling. Why are you afraid of me? We’ve shared ten years together.” He lunged toward her and she jumped to the side.
“Ten years of a lie. Who are you?”
“I’m John Hoover.” He skipped toward her, reaching for her arm. His fingers brushed across her skin. “So you do remember something.”
“A little. I know my name isn’t Stacy Hoover.” Mari’s own fists clenched. “Why am I still alive? Why have you kept me here for so long?”
“Would you rather we had left you beside your dead husband?”
“Yes.” Tears welled in Mari’s eyes. “So he is dead.” It wasn’t a nightmare.
John shrugged. “Personally, I didn’t check. We’d left you for dead, too, but found you wandering the countryside the next day. Jack’s body was gone. Maybe the animals got him. Maybe he’s alive and crazy somewhere, too.” His lips thinned into a sneer. “You were loonier than a bat; had no idea who, or where, you were. But if we do find him, we’ll finish what we started all those years ago.”
Hope rose in Mari’s chest only to be quenched. If Jack were alive, he’d have looked for her, wouldn’t he? “Why the pretending? Why you?”
“It’s the best way to keep an eye on someone, being married to them. Why not me? You’re a looker. It wasn’t a hardship. I’ve even come to care for you … a little.” He lunged again, managing to dart behind her. His arm circled her throat, and he squeezed. “I need to know that you’ll cooperate.”
Spots danced before her eyes as the pressure increased. She kicked her feet, aiming for his shins.
John cursed and lifted her off her feet. “Time to get some sleep, love.” He lifted her limp body in his arms and deposited her on the bed. Mari’s breath wheezed through her throat as he stepped back.
He disappeared from her sight, only to return grasping a syringe. “Here’s something to help you get that rest you so desperately need.”
Digging deep inside herself, Mari grabbed hold of the strength born from years of rigorous workouts and rolled from the bed. She hit the floor with a thump and gasped, feeling like a stranded fish. Struggling to draw air through her tortured throat, she leaped to her feet.
John’s eyes shone with anticipation as his mouth curved into a sneer. “Okay. The lady wants to dance. Do you think you remember how?”
Clouded visions of martial arts and bodily contact flitted through Mari’s mind. “Oh, I think so.” If she remembered correctly, she’d been a lethal weapon, her hands and feet striking with lightning precision and speed. She prayed she hadn’t lost it all.
John started to move to her side of the bed, and she rolled across the mattress. She landed on her feet on the other side. Her eyes remained glued to the man across from her.
He laughed. The sound sent shivers of dread down her spine. Again she prayed to the God she’d once known. Prayed He hadn’t forgotten her. Prayed she would remember her skills.

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