Borrowed Identity (7 page)

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. Appar
ently 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.

T
HE 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.

“Well, he won’t be bothering you again.” Michael stared out at the dirt road, watching the dust float in the air as Elvin Grant traveled back to the main road. “Why would anyone want this house enough to threaten you over it?”

“Because of the legend of Fuller’s diamonds, I imagine.”

“Diamonds?” Michael’s dark eyebrows rose slowly.

Kelly was certain she’d told him the story before. The man seemed to have a bad case of amnesia. He was constantly forgetting things. She sighed, prepared to tell him the sordid story again. The short version.

“Robert Fuller was thought to be a jewel thief. He lived in this house, owned it in the 1930s.” She shrugged. “He was accused of stealing a shipment of uncut diamonds on their way from South Africa to a big-time diamond dealer in New York.”

“Accused? So he wasn’t arrested for it?”

“No.” Kelly forced a smile. “Fuller died here. The diamonds weren’t recovered. Rumor has it the gems are hidden somewhere inside this house.”

“I’m sure the police have searched the place thoroughly.” Michael headed inside, apparently bored with the conversation already. Boomer stuck to his heels like a loyal soldier. Kelly followed them both.

“Well, yes,” she replied, “Of course the police looked for them. That’s why it’s just a rumor that they’re here. Unfortunately, there are a lot of people who believe it. I
can’t count the number of times I’ve had to run off a fortune hunter who thought he was going to dig up my yard or break into my house.”

“I’ll bet.” Michael chuckled. “Must be a pain.”

“It is. Anyway, Fuller had a mound of debts. He had nothing left to pass on to his only child. The state auctioned off this house. My grandfather bought it. It’s been in our family ever since.”