Don't Say a Word by Rita Herron Page A

quickly.”
    â€œI’ll get the DNA and fingerprints sent out tonight. Then I’m going straight to the jail to see if she recognizes Antwaun or vice versa.” If she was Kendra Yates, which he hoped to hell she was, they could clear his brother and get him out of jail. Then Antwaun could figure out what had happened to her, and whether or not the two of them had any kind of relationship to pursue, or if she’d only been using his brother for information on the police force.
    And if she wasn’t Kendra…
    He’d figure out why she looked like her. If she was related or if Pace had some reason to recreate Kendra Yates’s face on another woman. Something nagged at the back of his mind, something about Pace’s work, but he couldn’t quite pinpoint it.
    â€œI’m still digging into the police-corruption angle,” Jean-Paul said. “If this woman is Kendra Yates and a dirty cop thinks she’s on to him, he may come after her.”
    Damon grimaced, his brother’s conclusions mirroring his own. He wanted answers, but the thought of using Crystal gnawed at his conscience. He agreed to keep Jean-Paul posted, hung up, and glanced at Crystal. She looked pale, exhausted, frightened. He wanted to soothe her again, reach out, touch her and promise her that she wasn’t alone, that he would protect her.
    But how could he when he didn’t know the truth about her?
    Dammit. He dared not get close to her.
    Wanting to help her was one thing, but wanting her on a physical level was impossible.
    After all, he just might have to use her as bait to catch a killer….
    * * *
    A S THEY DROVE , Crystal clung to the hope that Agent Dubois could help her, yet the heat emanating from him when he’d touched her rattled her. She’d felt an immediate thrill that had aroused her senses in a way that she hadn’t thought about during her hospitalization.
    Of course, the past few months she’d been consumed with struggling to survive. She had hoped to look human, but to be… beautiful , as Damon Dubois had called her, was a miracle.
    But tension radiated from the agent in waves, reminding her that he suspected she was Kendra, that she held the key to his brother’s release from jail. That the homicide investigation was his only interest in her.
    What if he was right? Would she remember Antwaun Dubois? Had she really been a reporter?
    And what if she wasn’t Kendra Yates? Then she’d be back to square one—a woman with no name, no past, no knowledge of her former life. A woman no one cared enough about to look for…
    A woman who resembled a dead reporter. A reporter someone may have tried to murder.
    A shudder coursed through her at the thought. What had happened to Kendra Yates? What if she was Kendra and Antwaun Dubois had tried to kill her? Maybe Damon Dubois was walking her into some kind of trap?
    The terror that had overwhelmed her during her nightmares about the accident haunted her. She’d seen the flames, a man’s dead body…But who was he? And what had happened?
    In spite of the stifling summer heat, she huddled within herself, feeling cold and alone. Could she really trust Agent Dubois?
    She’d sensed the anger in him when she’d seen that television interview, and when he’d first laid eyes on her. He’d staunchly defended his brother.
    The men were brothers. Antwaun’s guilt or innocence might not matter. Agent Dubois might defend him anyway. And this supposed attraction between them might be one-sided. Maybe he thought that if he pretended to care, even seduced her, she’d help him.
    She massaged her temple where a headache pulsed, already feeling the weight of fatigue on her muscles.
    â€œAre you all right?”
    The agent’s husky voice sent another frisson of alarm and…sexual energy flowing through her. “Yes.”
    â€œIf you’re not feeling well, I’ll take you somewhere to