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The secret she’s kept to protect her family could be the very thing that tears them apart.
To all who know her, Annalise Decker is a model wife and mother. She’s a permanent member of the PTA, never misses a sporting event, and is constantly campaigning for her husband’s mayoral race.

No one knows that Annalise was once Deidre O’Reilly, a troubled young woman whose testimony put a dangerous criminal behind bars. Relocated through the Witness Security Program to the quaint harbor town of Deep Haven, Deidre received a new identity and a fresh start, which began when she fell in love with local real estate agent Nathan Decker.

Twenty years later, Annalise couldn’t be more unprepared for her past to find her. When Agent Frank Harrison arrives with news that the man she testified against is out on parole and bent on revenge, Annalise must face the consequences of her secrets. Will she run again, or will she find the courage to trust those she loves most with both her past and her future?

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You Don't Know Me

TYNDALE HOUSE PUBLISHERS, INC.

Chapter One

Believe that she deserved this life.

"Mom! Watch this!" Henry's voice caught her attention back to the soccer practice—twenty youngsters outfitted in wool hats, fleece jackets under their club T-shirts, and sweatpants under their shin guards. Henry needed a haircut, his own hat discarded on the sideline bench, the wind parting his hair as he chased the ball. She wanted to yell at him to put the hat on, but that might only encourage his sudden propensity to shy away from her good-bye kisses.

She would do anything to keep her eleven-year-old in her embrace, before he was yanked into the world of cell phones, dating, and drama. Perhaps she held him with a tighter grip than her older children, but motherhood turned out to be rife with too many small sorrows for her liking.

Once he was gone, she wasn't sure what she'd have left.

Annalise winced as his kick flew past the goal and into the tangle of forest beyond the field.

His shoulders slumped.

"It's okay, buddy!" she yelled because she couldn't help herself.

"C'mon, Annalise, give me your cookie recipe." Beth Iverson, dressed for soccer in her jeans, boots, a red parka, and a hat over her short brown hair, handed Annalise the Tupperware container, now half-empty. "And I'll promise Nathan my vote."

"You'll promise him your vote anyway," Annalise said as she pinched the cover back on. "He's the only one running."

"You are not putting those away." Lorelei reached for the container to pick out a chocolate chunk cookie, then passed it again to Karin, in the front row, cheering for her daughter as she chased the ball down the field. Their club team still played co-ed. "Jerry never served us cookies."

"Or put up signs or ran ads or hosted a luncheon," Karin said. "Nathan does know that no one is running against him, right?"

"He just wants to ..." Win. For some reason, Nathan breathed and dreamed of this mayoral position. As if his entire life hinged on landing the electoral approval of the town of Deep Haven. Like he didn't already have it? "He wants to do a good job."

Apparently Annalise's role as his wife was to secure votes across Deep Haven, from the PTA to the thrift store to the soccer field. She had Election Day circled in red on her calendar in the wild hope that then the Nathan she knew might return to her instead of this man who crept into their room long after the lights dimmed, after meeting with locals and knocking on the well-worn doors of their neighbors and friends.

As if anyone in Deep Haven didn't know Nathan Decker. Or his family.

Then again, that precise fact might be what drove him. What made him stretch the hours down at the realty office and over at his mother's house, or volunteering at the care center or running the church finances, and generally serving on too many town committees.

He probably didn't even need her campaign cookies with all his activities, but that's what wives did.

They campaigned. They kept everyone's lives running.

They made sure the secrets stayed in the dark.

"Please, Annalise. Tell us your secret," Karin said, catching cookie crumbs on her hand.

For a second, the question jolted Annalise, found the last patch of guarded soil in her heart. She looked at Karin, her brain blank, and couldn't breathe. Shoot, she wasn't made of glass—no one could see inside her.

"Not until after the election," she said, and her voice sounded just fine.

"Which is Minnesotan for no." Beth shook her head. "You Deckers know how to keep us in suspense."

"Uh-oh, here comes Henry." Karin handed her the container.

Annalise watched as her son trudged to the bench, kicked it, and sat down. She reached for her bag. "I think that's our cue."

"You're leaving?" Beth asked.

"I gotta run. The auditions for Romeo and Juliet are today, and I have to take Jason some food before Colleen's game."

Please, please let him get the lead. Because it was the only chance for redemption he had after turning down a job offer at Licks and Stuff Ice Cream. Nathan was always so tied up over finances and their children's education that he'd practically demanded Jason drop out of theater and get an after-school job to help pay for college. But the kid could get a scholarship with his acting abilities. Let him land a role, and then they'd tell Nathan together.

She didn't really want to keep things from Nathan, but she didn't want to cause tension either. Besides, every marriage had secrets, right?

Like Colleen and her new boyfriend. Annalise and her sixteen-year-old daughter had a showdown ahead over that lowlife Tucker Newman. If Colleen came to her senses, Annalise wouldn't have to tell Nathan about finding them in the front seat of Tucker's Jeep parked down by the lighthouse during lunch hour on Tuesday. Really, it wouldn't do Nathan's campaign any good to appear on Tucker's doorstep, ready to tear him limb from limb.

Yes, secrets protected them. The small secrets ... and the large ones. Like the fact that "Nathan Decker for Mayor" just might get her—maybe even all of them—killed. The remote possibility hovered over her with every step Nathan took farther into the spotlight.

Okay, the very remote possibility. So remote that Annalise shrugged off the brush of fear that had traveled up her spine when Nathan announced today at breakfast that the media would be interviewing him—and her—at tomorrow's luncheon.

After all, they lived in a town of less than two thousand, in the northern tip of Minnesota. And after twenty years, she could stop looking over her shoulder.

Probably.

"Of course you're taking Jason dinner. Probably some homemade energy bars or a plate of casserole you have cooking in the Crock-Pot," Beth said.

Actually, yes, but she must have frowned because Beth laughed. "You're such a curve wrecker. Can't you leave some of the all-star mothering for the rest of us?"

Annalise stared at her.

"You're at all the practices—too often with cookies. You make bread from scratch. You attend every PTA meeting, every field trip, every school party. You make the rest of us feel like we're bums when we serve a frozen pizza."

"There's nothing wrong with frozen pizza—"

Karin had turned, listening to the conversation. "When is the last time you cooked a frozen pizza?"

"I happen to like homemade—"

"And let's not talk about the Christmas decorations." This from Lorelei, who tossed her long black ponytail over her shoulder as she gathered her stadium blanket and rose from the bench. "I feel like I'm the Grinch with my wreath and twinkle lights. I think Deep Haven needs its own electrical grid just for the Decker Christmas display."

They laughed, and Annalise forced a smile. "I'm not that bad...."

Beth shook her head. "Oh, Annalise, we're just giving you a hard time. Listen, you're not bad. You're wonderful. And Nathan is a shoo-in for mayor, so please don't tempt us with cookies next week." She leaned forward and caught Annalise in a one-armed hug.

"Uh-oh. Kelli Hanson just made a beeline for...