Double Identity

“Sure you can,” Cain said. “But it is southern hospitality to make sure a young lady gets home in one piece…particularly after she hired you to work for her and then almost got run down right in front of your place of business. Besides, do you really want to grip a steering wheel with scraped hands?”

Sophie paused for a moment and looked at the three people staring at her. For the first time in weeks, she didn’t feel alone. They were going to help her. Suddenly the heavy weight she’d been carrying felt lighter.

“Thanks, Cain. Holly. Mr. Garrison.” A warm glow washed over her from head to toe.

Mr. Garrison nodded and slipped out the door.

Sophie was too stubborn to offer up the silent prayer of gratitude that rested on the tip of her tongue. She was still mad at God. Sometimes she thought she always would be. But a little voice inside her head told her He already knew her heart.

“So, you’re our new client.” Holly gave her the once-over. “Please tell me you didn’t hire us to follow a cheating husband. Someone as pretty and sweet as you shouldn’t be married to a no-account.”

Sophie laughed. “I’m not married.” The smile fell from her lips. “I hired your firm to investigate my missing father.”

“Your father? Wow, that stinks. When did he disappear?”

“Two weeks ago.”

“And the police?”

“They didn’t find anything useful.” Sophie sighed. “I’m sorry, Holly. I really don’t feel up to going over all of it again.” She pressed her fingers to her forehead and rubbed little circles against her skin in an attempt to stop the pounding. “Cain has all the information. Would you mind terribly if I let him fill you in?”

“Sure. What am I thinking? I’m the one who needs to apologize. You almost got run over. I’d say that’s more than enough to deal with for one day.” Holly rummaged in the first aid kit and then held out two pills and a glass of water. “Here. This should help with that headache.”

“Thanks.”

“Don’t worry,” Cain assured her. “All you need is a good night’s sleep.” He cupped her elbow and helped Sophie to her feet. “C’mon, let’s get you home.”

As Sophie stood, her stomach growled loudly enough to draw attention. Her cheeks flamed with embarrassment and Holly and Cain laughed.

“Sounds like you could use a good, hot meal.” Holly spoke to Cain as she headed for the door. “I’ve gotta run. I left Phil in charge of the diner and you know how dangerous that can be.” She rolled her eyes. “Bring Sophie over for lunch and I’ll get the particulars of the case then.” Holly turned her attention back to Sophie. “We can talk while you eat. After lunch, Cain can run you home. We’ll be sure to get your car back to you first thing in the morning.” With a wave over her shoulder, she hurried out.

Both of them stared at the empty doorway and then Sophie asked, “Is it just me or does it feel like she sucked all the energy out of the room when she left? Is she always so bubbly and energetic?”

“Bubbly and energetic?” Cain grinned. “Those aren’t the words I’d use to describe Holly. More like impish, meddle-some and a royal pain at times. But I love her.”

Cain’s expression sobered. He tilted Sophie’s chin and examined the bruise on her cheek. “How are you doing?”

“Fine. Except for a headache. Probably from all the excitement.” She gingerly placed her fingers to her scalp. “Thanks to you, I barely hit anything. And even if I had, my dad always said I’m hardheaded.”

She made a point of studying Cain. “What about you? I’m not the only one who took a nasty spill. Were you hurt?”

Cain moved his right hand and Sophie could see a bandage stretching from the tip of his little finger to his wrist. She sucked in a breath. “Ouch, you were hurt.”

“This?” Cain shrugged, dismissing it as insignificant. “This isn’t anything. But tomorrow I bet we’re both going to be sore in spots we didn’t even know we had.”

Sophie’s stomach growled again.

Cain laughed out loud. “Let me lock up and I’ll take you for that lunch I promised.”

He put the first aid kit away, made sure the coffeepot was unplugged and gently followed her into the hall. Sliding his key into the lock, he glanced at her.

“Sophie, what happened this afternoon was not an accident. Someone deliberately tried to run you down.”

She shook her head. “No way. It was probably an older person who got their foot caught on the accelerator. Or a teenager texting. Or whatever.”

“Sophie.” His grim expression and the way he dragged out the syllables in her name told her he wasn’t buying her explanations.

Dread oozed up her spine. First her father disappeared. Then she found out his identification papers were fake—then hers turned out to be phony, too. Now this. Sophie didn’t have a clue what was going on but none of it felt good.

“I’m not trying to frighten you,” Cain said and walked with her outside.

Really? You’re doing a pretty good job of it.

“I saw a man dash for his car when he saw you. He accelerated when you stepped into the street. There was nothing random or accidental about it.”

Maybe if she closed her eyes really tight she’d wake up and find out this had been a terrible nightmare. Sophie squeezed her eyes shut, counted to five and then slowly opened them. Nope. Still Main Street. Still Cain standing there with that worried look on his face. She hadn’t been dreaming. But, boy, she wished she had.

“Your father’s letter said he left to keep you safe.” The soft, low tenor of Cain’s voice soothed her. “But I bet you don’t feel very safe these days, do you? Something is happening and I want to help you get to the bottom of it.”

She locked eyes with him. “You’ve changed your mind? You’re going to help me?”

Cain grinned. “I never said I wasn’t going to help you. I said that I didn’t think I could help you. Face it, you haven’t given me a lot to go on. But I never said I wouldn’t try.”

Sophie nodded and hung her head.

He gave her hand a quick, reassuring squeeze and her heart skipped a beat. Why’d he have to be so kind? It didn’t hurt that he was good-looking, too. How was she supposed to think straight if her heart took silly little jumps every time he looked her way?

“Considering what happened today, we’re going to have to try harder to find a place to start looking.” Cain glanced up and down the street. “Your father was right, Sophie. You’re in danger. The question is, why?”

THREE

The diner looked like something right out of a 1950s magazine, black-and-white tile floor, red vinyl booths, red covered stools at the counter and polished chrome everywhere. Small jukeboxes graced the tables and stood at attention at marked intervals along the speckled counter top. The steady hum of quiet conversations mingled in the air with competing strands of music from the jukeboxes. Sophie paused for a moment and looked around. It must be close to lunchtime. The place was packed. As the tantalizing aroma of home cooking wafted in the air, she knew why. Her mouth watered like she was a participant in a Pavlov experiment.

“Over here,” Holly yelled, waving them to the counter. “I’ve saved a couple of seats. We can talk while you eat.”

Sophie weaved her way through several people waiting for seats. Normally, she would have been kinder and waited her turn in line but not today. Today it was every man—or woman, as the case may be—for themselves. She hadn’t eaten since lunchtime yesterday. One glance at the huge burgers and home-cut fries at the booth beside her gave her the incentive to move faster as she whispered, “Sorry,” and elbowed her way to the counter. She plopped down on the stool Holly had reserved for her. Seconds later Cain slid in beside her.

“Wow! This place really does a business.” Sophie glanced around the crowded diner and smiled at Holly.

“Some people say we’re packed because the food is fantastic. Others say it’s because we’re the only diner in town.” Holly laughed. “I don’t care what the reason. I’m just happy they come. Now, what can I get for you?”

“I’ll take a burger and fries,” Sophie replied. “With lettuce, tomato and onion.”

“And to drink?”

Before she could answer, Cain said, “I’ll order the same and you can bring us a couple of large chocolate shakes.” When Holly hurried away, he leaned his elbow on the counter and swung to face her. “This diner has the best chocolate shakes—and the best charbroiled burgers—and on Tuesdays we serve fabulous pot roast dinners…”

“And apple pie. Don’t forget you told me this place serves the best apple pie.”