Читать книгу Borrowed Identity - Kasi Blake - Страница 13

“Look out!”

Kelly shouted the warning as Michael blundered into the garage, loosening the wooden beam as he entered. She watched in horror as it fell. Time slowed and a surreal quality clouded her vision. The large beam would crush him.

She rushed forward, reaching out with her hands. There wasn’t time to think about the consequences of her actions. She didn’t consider the possibility that they might both die.

Before she could reach him, Michael flew toward her.

He tackled her, knocking her backward. His arms went around her as he tried to cushion their landing. One of his hands held the back of her head, saving her from an inevitable concussion.

They hit the concrete hard. Whether by accident or design, Michael landed beside her instead of on her. She felt her spine rattle as if every bone was shattering. Pain shot through her limbs. The impact shook her beyond belief.

Explosive noise deafened her. For a moment she feared the entire garage was going to collapse on top of them. Michael covered her body with his own, shielding her from the debris.

When her ability to hear returned, the first sound her ears picked up was Michael’s harsh breathing. He turned his head slightly and his warm lips brushed her earlobe. The brief touch was comforting.

His entire body was warm, half covering hers, pressing her firmly against the cement floor. He lifted his head, and their eyes met. They were so different, polar opposites, but their bodies fit together like they’d been made to complement one another. Rough and smooth. Hard and soft.

A soft smile curved his mouth. Michael moved in for a kiss, and she closed her eyes in anticipation.

It wouldn’t be the first kiss they’d shared. He had kissed her several times after taking her to dinner in dimly lit restaurants. Those had been chaste kisses, a brief touch and then it was over. Michael was a gentleman, and she’d appreciated his restraint. But she longed now to kiss him passionately, desperately wanted to take his breath away.

Something had changed inside of him recently. She didn’t understand it, but she sensed it instantly. A mere look from Michael’s smoky eyes burned her to a crisp. She wanted him to kiss her, wanted it more than she could remember wanting anything in her entire lifetime.

The sound of barking cut through their intimacy like a sharp knife. Boomer came bounding toward them, greeting them with loud yelps. He wagged his tail, as if happy to see them still alive.

Kelly laughed at Michael’s wry expression as he rolled to one side.

“Boomer was alone in Margo’s house and there’s no sign of her. I’m worried.”

“Why?”

“You know it isn’t like her to leave without a word, much less to leave Boomer to fend for himself. She doesn’t have a car. Where could she have gone?” Kelly shook her head, unable to understand why Michael wasn’t concerned, too. “Her house was a mess, like it’d been ransacked. I guess she could have had family over and maybe they took off suddenly.”

“Or maybe they went to town for supplies and they’ll be back soon,” he said. “Perhaps they’d already heard about the snow. That’s always possible.”

“Yes.” She smiled in relief. “You’re right. I’ll call her later, if the phone starts working again.”

“What’s wrong with the phone?”

“It’s dead.” She shrugged. “If I can’t get her on the phone, I’ll have to walk over there again later. I want to make sure she knows we have Boomer. I know I won’t stop worrying about her until we find out what happened to her.”

“Understood.” Michael didn’t try to talk her out of her concern for the elderly woman as he stood and pulled Kelly to her feet. She wobbled slightly, trying to find her balance. His arm went around her waist to steady her, but she gently pushed him away. She didn’t need to lean on him. She was a survivor. Molten steel hardened in her spine. She straightened, standing taller, chin held high.

They surveyed the damage together. The beam had fallen to the cement floor at an angle along with small pieces of debris, but the roof seemed to be holding strong.

“We should get out of here, just in case,” Michael said. “Are you okay?”

“Fine.” She forced a smile. “Thanks to you.”

“No.” He jerked his head at the dog now sitting beside his feet. “Thanks to Boomer. He pushed me from behind. If it wasn’t for him, I’d be a pancake.”

Kelly gazed up at him, not trusting her voice.

“How did you lock yourself in here, angel?”

His question floated through her mind. Angel. How could one solitary word pack such a punch? It seemed to hit her in the gut, knocking the air from her lungs. A memory connected with the word teased the back of her mind. She almost grasped it, but at the last second it faded into nothingness.

“Hey!” Michael broke through her trance. “What’s wrong? Can you hear me?”

Kelly’s eyes snapped up to meet his. He was staring at her, his expression filled with concern again. He probably thought she was losing her mind. He’d asked her a simple question and she had zoned out on him.

“I’m fine, really. I was just thinking.” She pointed at the doors. “Someone locked me in. I stepped inside the garage and the doors swung shut. I heard the chain being linked together.” She looked directly at him. “How did you get past the lock?”

“The doors weren’t locked.” He raked a hand through his dark hair, gazing around at the mess.

“They were locked,” she insisted. “I tried them. I even kicked at them. They wouldn’t budge.”

“Well, they weren’t locked when I arrived. I only came tearing in here like an idiot because you screamed my name and I thought you might be hurt.”

Kelly took a deep breath, then shivered. “I’m cold,” she said. “Let’s go back to the house.”

Michael helped her over the fallen beam and out the door. As she started toward the house, Boomer fell into step beside her, with Michael tailing them. Kelly didn’t dare look back, feeling his perceptive gaze burning holes in her. He had almost died trying to rescue her. She should be grateful. She should be glad to have him around.

But her resentment grew.

He was lying to her, holding secrets in those dark eyes. She saw it in his every glance. She had the horrible feeling he knew exactly who had locked her in the garage, and he wasn’t going to tell her. He knew she wasn’t crazy.

She wasn’t losing her mind.

Or was she?

MICHAEL WALKED BEHIND Kelly as they followed the path to Moore House, ready to catch her if she stumbled. Neither of them spoke. There was a certain comfort to be found in silence. At least there was for Michael. It gave him opportunity to think.

At the house, he opened the front door and took a step back, allowing Kelly to enter first. He watched her limp up the steps, and realized she must have hurt her leg earlier. His hands itched to help her. Guilt flowed through his veins. She could have been killed. He should have been with her, but he’d gone to town to talk to Paddy. Following his agenda was important, but he wouldn’t risk Kelly’s life for it. Leaving her on her own was a mistake he wouldn’t make again.

He followed her to the parlor. His concern for her escalated when she sank into the covered sofa and buried her face in her hands. He could tell by the way her shoulders shook that she was fighting tears.

Michael didn’t know what to do for her. Comforting traumatized women was not one of his specialties. He felt helpless, and he didn’t like it. Taking a seat next to her, he wrapped an arm around her and pulled her to his side. He hoped it would be enough. He wanted her to feel safe.

A soft sigh was her only response.

Michael looked around the room. The parlor was definitely not one of his favorite spaces in Moore House. It was bleak. A spider would have second thoughts about living in such a room. The sheet-draped furniture loomed around them like ghosts from the past. Michael wouldn’t have been surprised to see them move.

He wanted to ask Kelly about the burns on her arms. He wanted to know who had hurt her.

She straightened her back and said, “I thought I was going to die. I know you don’t believe me, but those doors were locked.”

“It’s possible… Maybe someone locked you in as a joke,” he suggested. “Then they got scared and unlocked the doors without letting you in on their prank.”

“Yeah. Maybe. Some joke. It was freezing in there and the stupid garage was falling apart.” She took a deep, cleansing breath and regained her composure. “You saved my life.”

“You would have been fine. Eventually you would have tried the doors again and found them open.”

“How did you know to look in there for me?” she asked.

“Boomer was circling the garage when I got back from town. That’s how I found you. You never mentioned what you were doing in the garage in the first place,” he added.

“I thought I saw someone duck inside there. I went to check it out. I don’t understand it,” she said. “I was so sure I saw someone, but the garage was empty. I don’t know how they got out without me seeing them.”

“Maybe they walked around the corner of the building, and you just thought you saw them go inside,” Michael stated.

“Yes. I guess that’s possible,” she said. “I heard the lock click shut soon after. I knew I was trapped before I tried the door. It was the worst feeling in the world.” She turned to him, staring deep into his eyes as if searching for truth. “Who would do something like that? And why?”

He shrugged his shoulders. He wanted to tell her everything. He wanted to spill his guts, confess the real reason he was at Moore House, but he couldn’t as he had to put this woman’s well-being before anything else. He felt responsible for her. He had an overwhelming urge to protect her at all costs. The problem was he wasn’t absolutely sure he knew who was behind all the trouble.

She shivered and he pulled her closer, trying to warm her with his body heat. His hand stroked her arm, heating her flesh with friction. She was chilled to the bone. If he hadn’t found her so quickly, it was possible she could have died from hypothermia.

“Would you mind starting a fire?” she asked.

He looked at the fireplace with concern. Not long ago a friend of his had tried to light a fire in his hearth only to discover it had been booby trapped. Fortunately his friend had survived with only minor burns. Michael assured himself he wasn’t that careless. He would be able to spot the wire before he triggered it.

Kelly’s eyes burned holes in his back as he crossed the room to the fireplace. He quickly scanned the mantel for matches and found none. Bending his knees, he hunched down, checking the logs for a trap. Copper fireplace tools were on his right and there was a basket filled with logs to the left. Nothing looked tampered with. There were no matches here, either. What if they were in another room such as the kitchen? Did Kelly expect him to know where they were kept?

Was this a trick to slip him up? Did she suspect?

She rose slowly to her feet. He saw her approach from the corner of his eye.

Kelly pulled a box of matches from an opening at the side of the fireplace. She handed them to him without a word. She didn’t need to say anything. Her suspicious expression spoke volumes.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Here I am taking my time and you’re freezing.”

“I’m fine.”

“Would you like me to warm you?” He winked at her, causing her to blush.

“Not right now. Thank you.”

“Okay. If you say so.” He grinned up at her, playing his part to the hilt. “But you can have a rain check, redeemable any time you want.”

Several long moments later the fire blazed to life. Michael could feel rather than see Kelly hovering over him. Once he succeeded in his task he had no choice but to look at her. He stood, turning to face her. She wasn’t looking at him.

Her blue gaze was focused on the fire. The light danced in her eyes, giving her the appearance of an angel in a trance. She was more than beautiful, he reluctantly admitted to himself. During his thirty-three years he had known his fair share of women, some of them beauties in their own right, but none could have held a candle to this lady.

Her eyes were bluer than the Montana sky. Her hair, the color of twenty-four carat gold, spilled over her slender shoulders in luxuriant waves. His hands itched to touch the silky strands. Her heart-shaped face and delicate features were a sculptor’s dream. Her lips were sensuous and pink. Michael had a hard time keeping his gaze from dropping to that lovely mouth when standing face-to-face with her.

She hugged herself and stepped closer to the fire, then slowly turned to him as if feeling his eyes on her.

“You know something?” she said. “At first when the door locked I thought maybe I was hallucinating. Then I realized I really was locked inside. I don’t know which is worse—thinking I’m crazy or knowing someone is trying to hurt me.”

“Why would you think you were crazy?” His eyes narrowed on her face, he tried hard to understand what she was saying. “Because of the dreams you had the other night? That was the medication. I thought we already went over that.”

“The dreams have nothing to do with it. It’s my mother. I’ve always been afraid I’d wind up like her.”

Michael froze, hearing the pain in her voice.

“You didn’t press me to tell you about my mother before and I appreciate it, but I think you need to know.” She continued. “I think I was six or seven the first time my mother went to the hospital. I barely remember it. Apparently she’d tried to kill herself—I’m not sure how. I think it was probably an overdose. I remember her medicine cabinet being filled to the point of overflowing with pills. My father called an ambulance, and the police came. She was gone for a week or so. When she came back, she was different.”

Kelly fell silent.

Michael chose his words carefully, afraid he might push her too hard. She could totally withdraw or freak out on him.

“How was she different?”

“She was a walking zombie.” Kelly’s fair eyebrows furrowed together with the memory. She stared into the distance. “I don’t think she even recognized me. She lived in a fog. No emotion whatsoever. I thought I’d done something wrong.”

“Didn’t your father explain things to you?”

“I was a child,” she reminded him. Her gaze swung to Michael. “I couldn’t possibly understand what was happening to her. When I was old enough, my father filled me in and I wished he hadn’t. It turned my life upside down. I was so afraid of becoming like my mother.”

Was it possible to pass insanity from mother to daughter? For Kelly’s sake, he hoped not. She’d had a rough life by the sound of it. She deserved better.

“My mother woke one morning and decided she wasn’t sick anymore. She stopped taking her medication without telling anyone.” Kelly’s eyes fixed on his chest, but he knew she wasn’t seeing him. “We had no idea there was a problem until Mom decided I was out to get her.” She swallowed hard. Michael watched with admiration as she pushed her pain down and went on. “She was boiling water for something. Macaroni and cheese, I think. Without a word she grabbed the pot and threw the scalding water at me.”

Michael’s sharp intake of breath went unnoticed. Kelly continued talking, and he regained his composure. The last thing she needed was him railing at the world as if he had the right. She was the one who’d been burned. She was the one in pain.

“Luckily, I saw it coming.” She forced a smile. “My mother was aiming for my face. I turned my head and put my arms up in an attempt to protect myself.”

Kelly demonstrated, lifting her arms as she told the story. He stared at her burns now, seeing them in a whole new light. How could anyone do that to her own child?

Michael kept his feelings deep inside. What had happened to Kelly was in the past. He couldn’t do anything about it. Getting upset, showing how angry he was that someone had hurt her, wouldn’t help.

He wasn’t psychic, but he knew what she was about to say. Her mother hadn’t come home again. Good. He hoped the crazy woman would stay locked away forever. If he had any say in the matter she wouldn’t get another chance to hurt Kelly. No one would.

“My mom is in the hospital and probably always will be. She was found insane by the court-appointed doctor. She has schizophrenia. A lot of people suffer from it but aren’t locked up. They said my mom was different. She was dangerous. Lucky her.”

Michael touched Kelly’s chin, tilting it until her eyes met his and lost that blank stare. “There isn’t anything wrong with you.”

She let out a nervous laugh. “Thank you, Dr. Taggert.”

“I may not be a psychiatrist, but I’m a good judge of character. You aren’t insane.”

“Not yet.”

“Not ever.” He released her chin, but his gaze held hers as a friendly hostage. “You are a strong, capable woman. Don’t let a few bad dreams brought on by bad medication throw you. You aren’t losing it.”

“Well,” she said, “today certainly wasn’t a part of my imagination. Someone locked me inside the garage. I know it.” She frowned. “Where are the supplies you went into town for? Are they in your car?”

Blast! The supplies. He’d forgotten his invented reason for going to town. Every time he thought he had Kelly a safe distance from the truth, she cornered him.

“I came back before getting the supplies.” He smiled easily at her, another lie sliding off his tongue. “I forgot my wallet. Can’t buy anything without money these days.”

He was in the clear now.

Her eyes sharpened on him. “You usually charge it to my account.”

Of course he did.

“Shopping was my idea.” He shrugged. “There were some personal things I wanted to get, so I was planning on paying for them myself. I would go back for the supplies now, but in light of what happened I don’t want to leave you alone.”

“I don’t need a keeper.” She shrugged. “I can ask a friend to deliver whatever we need. You can make a list and pay him when he gets here.”

Michael nodded. Now he was going to have to invent a list of personal items he just couldn’t live without. He needed to keep on his toes around Kelly Hall. Her mind was a steel trap. One wrong move on his part and she would be all over him like a pit bull.

“I’ll make a list later,” he said. “I want to walk the grounds, make certain the intruder is gone.”

“I can come with you if you want.”

“I think I can handle it alone.”

Michael left Kelly sitting in the parlor. He wished he could retrieve his gun but couldn’t take the chance that Kelly might see it. Being naked couldn’t have made him feel more vulnerable.

He stepped outside, with Boomer on his heels. Michael’s gaze automatically traveled down the long road to where Paddy would be parked. He gave a short wave in case his partner was watching through the binoculars, then headed around the house with quick strides, anxious to get back to Kelly. He believed her about the garage being locked, even though it hadn’t been when he got there. Michael hoped the intruder had vanished from their lives forever.

Unfortunately, his gut told him the opposite was true. The person who had locked Kelly in the garage was somewhere nearby, watching them. He could practically feel those evil eyes tracking his every move.

Boomer wagged his tail and stayed with Michael the whole time, not putting more than a few feet between them. He had found a new friend.

THE SOUND OF THE FRONT door closing gave Kelly permission to release the breath she’d been holding. The oxygen returned to the room in a dizzying rush. How did Michael’s presence cause the walls to close in on her? It had never felt this way between them before. Within twenty-four hours Michael had altered drastically. His voice was the same, but his choice of words had changed and his mannerisms were different. In fact, his entire aura was different.

Or was it her imagination?

An insistent knocking on the front door drew her attention. She hurried to answer it, wondering if Michael had forgotten his keys. But the door was unlocked so it couldn’t be him. Kelly pasted on a smile, thinking it was probably Margo coming for her dog.

Her smile froze.

It was a stranger—a tall, gangly man with a pointy nose and jutting chin. He wore a dark suit that must have been two sizes too small for him and held a briefcase close to his chest.

“Yes,” she murmured, “may I help you?”

“I called a few weeks ago,” he stated abruptly. “My boss wants to buy your house.”

“I told you already, I’m not interested in selling. This house has been in my family for more than fifty years.”

“My boss is willing to pay twice what the house is worth.”

Her eyes widened. Why would anyone want to pay double?

“Who is your boss?”

“I’m not at liberty to say.” He patted his briefcase. “I have all the papers in here. Say the word and we can sign them.” He pulled a slip of paper from his vest pocket. “I also have a hefty check.”

When he handed it to her she glanced down at the signature. It was signed “Natalie Gross.” Kelly pushed it back at him.

“Okay,” she said, attempting to remain calm, “I’m only going to say this once more. I am not selling Moore House. Not for twice the amount. Not for ten times the amount. Please leave.”

She tried to close the door, but the man’s hand slammed against it. There was a dark glint in his eyes behind the wire-rimmed glasses he wore. She sensed that this man was not only quite capable of hurting her, he would enjoy it.

Cold fear chilled her nerve endings. If he attacked her, would she be able to fight him off? If she screamed, would Michael hear her?

“My boss has her heart set on buying this house. I think you should consider her offer.” He smiled calculatingly. “She will get the place one way or another.”

“Is that a threat?” Kelly lifted her chin high, gritting her teeth to keep her jaw from trembling. “I want you off my land.”

“You aren’t listening.” The stranger’s voice rose.

“My fiancé is going to be back any second. He’ll kick your butt all the way to the state line.”

“I met your fiancé in town a few weeks ago. I don’t think he’ll give me any trouble.”

“Think again, pal,” Michael said. And immediately afterward, Boomer growled.

Kelly spotted Michael over the other man’s shoulder and relief spread through her body, warming her. She hated the thought of being vulnerable and didn’t want to be in anyone’s debt, but there was a tiny guilty pleasure that came with being rescued. Michael was her very own hero, strong and courageous. He could handle the skinny man with one hand tied behind his back.

“You should stay out of this,” the stranger said.

Michael stepped closer and the man’s eyes almost bugged out of his head. He claimed to have seen Michael in town, but he looked like he’d just come across an unfamiliar and dangerous creature. He moved to the side, putting distance between them.

Michael held out his hand. “Show me your identification.”

“Pardon?”

“You heard me.” Michael snapped his fingers. “A driver’s license. State identification card. Anything with a name and picture on it will do.” His dark eyebrows rose. “Do you need help finding your wallet? I don’t mind getting it myself.” He moved nearer, closing in on him.

The stranger relinquished his wallet without another protest.

Michael flipped it open and read the name aloud.

“Elvin Grant.” Michael handed the wallet back. “Okay, Elvin Grant, if I see you around here again I’ll have the local authorities run your name through their computers. A man like you must have an interesting past.”

“You’ll regret this.”

“No,” Michael said with confidence. “You’ll regret it if you harass the lady again.”

The stranger scurried off, leaving Kelly and Michael standing on the porch in an uncomfortable silence. Kelly didn’t know what to say. A quiet thank-you didn’t seem enough. She was certain Michael had saved her from harm.

Boomer barked happily and wagged his tail.

“Has that guy hassled you before?” Michael asked.

“Over the phone,” she admitted.