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Borrowed Identity

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Год написания книги
2018
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“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.
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