Borrowed Identity (17 page)

He stood at the foot of the gurney, willing her to live, and everything fell into perspective. Nothing seemed as important as the woman now fighting for her life.

A violent cough burst from her, and tears filled Michael’s eyes. She was alive.

Moments later Kelly opened her eyes and glanced around. Her gaze landed on him and a small smile touched her mouth. She held a shaking hand out to him. He took it without hesitation, holding it gently between his palms. He swallowed the lump in his throat, fighting the urge to drop his head against her chest and cry like a baby.

“She has to go to the hospital,” the paramedic said. “The sooner the better. You should get checked out, too.”

“No.” Kelly shook her head. Her hand frantically pulled
at his. “Please, I don’t want to go to the hospital. I hate hospitals.”

“I’ll be with you,” he said.

“You won’t leave?” Her eyes, wide and trusting, latched on to his face.

“I’ll be with you,” he repeated.

She settled back, seemingly reassured.

Michael wished he could relax. He had a terrible feeling that the fire hadn’t been an accident. Someone was trying to kill Kelly, him—or both of them together. There was a strong possibility it was Landis. But it could be any number of people, depending on which of them was the real target. Michael had a long list of enemies, and Kelly living in a house rumored to hold diamonds didn’t put her out of danger.

The paramedics loaded Kelly into the ambulance, and her eyes widened again in barely restrained fear. Michael climbed beside her, hoping his presence would reassure her.

As the doors swung shut, he caught a glimpse of Paddy telling the firemen he was on his way to visit a friend when he’d seen the fire and stopped to help. The Irishman shrugged to let Michael know he had no idea what had happened. Paddy would probably follow them to the hospital. The two of them would find time to talk privately somehow.

Michael didn’t want Kelly to see them together, not until he had an opportunity to tell her the truth. He was going to keep his promise. No need to tempt fate. He would tell her everything just as soon as he got the chance.

H
OSPITALS WERE NOT ON
Kelly’s list of favorite places. She hated everything about them, from their awful sterile smell to their bright lighting. She had spent too many wasted days in the hospital after her mother had doused her with scalding water. Nightmares had followed her into sleep every night during that horrible period.

But this time was different, she reminded herself. Michael was with her. He would hold her hand and watch over her while she slept. Nothing bad would be able to harm her. Michael would guard her well. She trusted him. He wouldn’t let her down.

The kind nurses settled her into a private room. One of them checked her vitals, noted the information on a chart and left her alone with Michael. With a relieved sigh, Kelly slid beneath the covers. No one had noticed her scars, or at least hadn’t commented on them. She hadn’t seen a single look of pity cross any of the nurses’ faces, and she’d been watching, too. Maybe Michael was right. Perhaps the scars weren’t as bad as she thought they were.

Michael sat next to her on the bed. “Can I get you anything? Water? Something to eat?”

“My throat hurts like the devil,” she said. “Some ice chips might be soothing. The nurse told me they have an ice machine around the corner.”

“I’ll get you some then.”

Michael left and the room seemed to shrink in on her.

Her mind raced in circles, going over every aspect of their escape from the fire. Michael had saved her life. She owed him so much. There was no way she could ever repay him.

Her eyes went to the door, and she hugged herself in nervous anticipation of his return. Why was it taking him so long? He could have gotten lost. Maybe she should buzz for the nurse after all, and ask the woman if she had seen Michael turn the wrong way.

Before she could press the red button, a nurse walked in with a tray.

“Hello. I’m Regina. The doctor wanted me to give you a little shot to relax you.”

Kelly tensed. “Did you see my fiancé? He went to get me some ice. He’s been gone a long time.”

“Is he a gorgeous fella with dark hair and a brooding
stare?” The nurse smiled with a look of pure envy on her pretty, oval-shaped face.

“Yes,” Kelly said. “He’s wearing a leather jacket.”

“I saw him,” the nurse confirmed, “but he wasn’t anywhere near the ice machine. I saw him talking to some old, hefty looking guy with a nice smile. They’re down the hall. Maybe he was talking to your daddy. They both looked kind of upset.”

“My father’s dead.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” The nurse gave her the shot before Kelly could protest. The sting of the needle made her wince. “Would you like me to get him for you?”

“No. I’m sure he’ll be back any minute.” The nurse headed for the door, but Kelly stopped her again. “You say the man my fiancé was talking to is heavyset? Are you sure he’s not real tall and skinny?”

“Positive. He reminds me of an uncle I used to have. He’s, uh, stocky. Definitely not skinny. Anything else I can do for you?”

“No. Thank you.”

At least Kelly knew Michael wasn’t with Elvin Grant, the skinny creep who wanted her house.

Kelly started to feel strange, as if she was floating up to the ceiling. She wanted to stay awake long enough to ask Michael who he’d been talking to. As far as she knew Michael didn’t have any friends in town. She was probably overreacting. The other man must be a cop or a fireman, and Michael was finding out about the damage to her house.

Her house. She thought about Moore House and how long it had been in her family. She wondered how much damage had been done by the fire. Hopefully it could be repaired. She had quite a bit of money in the bank, an inheritance left by her grandfather to her dad. Her father hadn’t had expensive tastes. And neither did she. The money was safe, waiting for a rainy day.

She could hire Wade to fix the house.

Wade was a genius. He couldn’t read a blueprint, but he could fix anything. With his help, and her inheritance, perhaps she and Michael could restore Moore House to its original beauty.

Michael pulled up a chair beside her bed and took a seat. She opened her mouth, wanting to ask him about the house and about his friend. Her throat ached. Her vocal cords refused to work.

Her eyes drifted shut.

She floated away on a soft cloud.

M
ICHAEL’S MEETING WITH
Paddy had been cut short by a well-meaning nurse. She’d informed him that Kelly was asking for him, so he’d returned to her side without hesitation. Paddy was going to nose around Moore House, hopefully without being seen. If he found anything, he promised to have the hospital page Michael right away.

Michael wanted to know who was trying to kill Kelly. Saving her was his first priority now. He would protect her with his life.

The friendly nurse poked her head in. “You wanted to speak to the fireman in charge of the investigation, right? He’s in the waiting room.”

Michael glanced at Kelly. He didn’t want her to wake up in the hospital alone. The fire was enough of a trauma for her to suffer.

“She’ll be out for hours,” the nurse assured him.

He reluctantly left the room and strode down the hallway to the lounge. The fire chief stuck out his meaty hand and shook Michael’s firmly. He was a pleasant man with sparkling brown eyes and a friendly demeanor.

“I’m Chief Truman. I was told you have some questions about the fire at Moore House.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Are you the owner?”

“No, sir,” Michael said. “I’m a friend of the owner’s. Can you tell me how the fire started?”

“Well…” The fire chief scratched his gray head as he spoke. “At first I thought it was probably an electrical fire, because it’s an old house. But the fire originated in the kitchen. The stove had been left on. There appeared to be a greasy rag close to it.”

“You think it was deliberate?”

“We are working under that assumption at this time, but we haven’t ruled out an accidental fire.”

Michael nodded, thinking back to earlier that night. He and Kelly had eaten sandwiches for supper. Neither of them had used the oven. He went over all the possible scenarios and came up with a single name.

Wade Carpenter. The man let himself into Kelly’s home whenever the urge took him. He was a carpenter. Maybe he worked on cars, as well. He could have turned on the stove, left an oily rag next to the burner and forgotten about them both. Although Wade had returned the key Kelly had given him, he could have made a copy.

It could have been an accident. The man was mildly retarded, after all. Even the brightest of people could be forgetful at times. Michael wanted to give Wade the benefit of the doubt because he was a friend of Kelly’s, but his gut told him the fire had been set on purpose to kill either one or both of them. The perpetrator hadn’t “accidentally” strangled Kelly. He wouldn’t leave threats and try to frighten her without realizing what he was doing. If it was Wade Carpenter, the man wasn’t as clueless as he pretended to be.

“How far did the fire spread?” Michael asked.

“We managed to contain it to the kitchen. There is smoke and water damage in several rooms, however.”

“Thank you.” Michael shook the man’s hand for the second time. “If I need to know anything else, I’ll call you.”

“Glad to be of service.”

Chief Truman walked away.

Michael went to a pay phone and called Paddy. He told the Irishman everything the chief had told him. Then he asked if Paddy had anything new to report.

“Not a thing,” his colleague replied quickly.

“I forgot to thank you for saving our lives tonight.”

“What do you mean?”

“I was sleeping like the dead,” Michael admitted. “If you hadn’t yelled ‘fire,’ I wouldn’t have woken in time to get Kelly and myself out. You saved our butts. I owe you a big one.”

Silence followed his statement.

“Tag,” Paddy said at last, “I didn’t yell anything. I didn’t even know about the fire until the fire department and the ambulance arrived.”

“What?” Michael clearly remembered the masculine voice shouting from somewhere in the house. “I was sure it was you.”

“Well, it wasn’t.” There was a hearty chuckle. “Hey, maybe you got yourself one of those guardian angels.”

“Yeah.” Michael dismissed the thought. “I’m going to tell Kelly the truth when she wakes up about who I am and why I’m actually here.”

“Are you crazy? Are you going soft on me or what? The girl almost dies so you’re going to tell her everything? That’s nuts.”

Michael didn’t feel like discussing the issue further. He was going to tell her. There wasn’t anything Paddy could do to stop him. He said goodbye and disconnected the call before Paddy could protest again.

He marched to Kelly’s room, desperately wanting to lighten the heavy burden that weighed down his soul. But she was still fast asleep.

So he decided to take a walk, get some coffee, plan his words carefully. If he told her in just the right way, perhaps she wouldn’t hate him for it. She was an understanding per
son. Surely she would be able to see he didn’t have a choice in the matter.

There would be plenty of time to tell Kelly later. He stuffed his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans and whistled as he walked away from her room.

A
NOISY CLANG
followed a muttered oath.

Kelly’s eyes popped open. It was morning—the day after the fire. Feeling groggy, she struggled to sit up. Her head swam dizzily. So this was what it was like to be drugged. It was an oddly familiar sensation. Loud voices went off like dynamite in her brain.

Michael’s voice intruded, but it was coming from inside her head.

Me? Marry you?

Who would want you?

Searing hot pain ripped through her skull. She cried out, holding her head tight between her trembling hands. She didn’t understand where the voices were coming from.

She didn’t care. They hurt. She only wanted them to stop before her head exploded.

You’re nothing but a screwed-up prude!

“Are you okay? Should I get the doctor?”

Kelly forced her eyes open and the pain evaporated as quickly as it had come. Wade stood over her. Worry had etched deep lines in his forehead. He held a huge box in his hands. Funny, she thought, how most people brought flowers to the sick, but Wade brought an old box.

“No. I’m fine. I’m sorry if I scared you. I just had a headache.”

Wade nodded. He set the box on her lap and began to open the flaps as he explained its presence.

“I found something I think you should look at.”

She recognized the box. It was Wade’s lost-and-found box, his private collection. She didn’t feel like company, but she didn’t want to hurt Wade’s feelings. He was a bit
sensitive when it came to his hobby. His co-workers poked fun at him. They tormented the poor man over his precious finds. Once he had even been jumped by a big bruiser of a man over a baseball cap that Wade had “found” in the man’s locker.

Wade didn’t understand the concept of things having to be actually lost before he could find them.

“I found this at your house,” Wade said. “I don’t want you to be mad at me.”

“Why would I be mad?”

“Because I took it from Michael’s room.” Hands tucked in his pockets, Wade lowered his head and kicked at the floor with his big shoe. He refused to meet her eyes. “Michael was mean to me. I don’t like him. I don’t want him to hurt you.”

“Michael saved my life tonight, Wade. There was a fire at the house. Did you know about that?”

“Uh…yeah. I—I was there. I was walking around outside when the fire trucks pulled up. I saw you. I was scared you were dead.”

“Why didn’t you say something to me? Were you hiding?”

“Yeah.” Wade nodded. “Michael’s a mean man. I didn’t want him to see me. He hates me.”

Kelly wasn’t sure what Wade meant by the statement. He’d repeated it as if it was fact. Wade hadn’t lied to her in the past. Why would he start now?