Identity (2 page)

“Well, that’s just crazy,” Shay muttered as if to herself.

Liza nodded sympathetically. “I know. It’s southern Alabama, though. There’s lots of crazy here.”

Shay was getting attitude again. “Just get me out of here,” she said angrily, her voice harsh.

Liza felt devilment fly and took a good step back. She studied the frowning face, noting again how tan freckles peppered the long pale planes of her cheeks. She smiled mischievously.

As she watched Liza, Shay’s face lit with alarm. Liza felt satisfaction stir.

“Say ‘please,’” she said, studying her victim.

The words had a far different effect than Liza had imagined. Shay’s body stiffened and if fire could have emanated from her eyes and ears, it would have. Liza didn’t think she’d ever seen anyone as angry.

“Why, you ungrateful country bumpkin! How dare you!” Her voice was just one octave shy of a shriek.

Liza bristled. “Who’re you calling a bumpkin? At least I have more sense than to fall in Dooley’s Folly!”

“Fall in? I was trying to help you with those damned fish. What the hell were they doing there anyway?”

“I just...” Liza didn’t know what to say and certainly didn’t want to say it to this prickly pear. “I just fish, okay? It’s a hobby.”

“Hobby?!” Shay spat. “Whoever heard…most people catch fish for sustenance, not play.”

Liza opened her mouth to object but did not want to go there with Shay. Instead, she moved to the bank and held out her hand. “Let’s get you out of my pond. You’re polluting the fish.”

Shay’s mouth fell open in indignation, but she grasped Liza’s hand and allowed her to pull her up the bank. As soon as she attained terra firma
,
however, she stomped off, her running garb clinging to her small form like a new wrinkled skin. Remembering her electronics, she turned with a scowl and retrieved them.

“You could thank me, you know,” Liza called after her. Shay’s only response was to swing one arm wide, sending a glistening arc of water into the late afternoon sunlight as she disappeared along the wide drive leading to the old Carson home.

“Crazy Yankee,” Liza muttered as she surveyed the mess she had to make right. The cooler was muddy, but she knew she could hose that down at home. All the fish had made it into the pond, thankfully.

She pressed her booted foot into a puddle, folding soft loamy soil into the wetness, trying to even it out. She straightened a patch of sawgrass and spied her fishing pole. It was okay, a good thing as it was her favorite, a custom-made one crafted to be shorter than most standard poles. Liza frowned and looked along the path that Shay had taken. There was no sign of the woman.

“Good thing, too. She better not come back here with that bad temper,” she told herself aloud.

Looking around, Liza pieced together the event that had triggered the muddy disaster of her afternoon. Shay had no doubt been jogging along the dirt shoulder surrounding the pond when Liza mindlessly stepped into her path.

After settling the pole and the cooler into the bed of her truck, Liza sighed and rubbed her sore shoulders. Who would have thought such a skinny gal could make that much of an impact?

CHAPTER TWO

Shay pulled the key from the back door lock and stepped into the mudroom of her home. She turned and patiently engaged the two slide locks and two deadbolts on the heavy steel door. She let a low shriek escape as she stomped through the dining room of her house, trailing water behind on the shiny wooden floor, and angrily flicked on every light switch she encountered.

Imagine the nerve of that woman.

“‘Say please,’” she mimicked, screwing her fine features into a heavy scowl. Another light blossomed ahead of her. She should have known better than to move to this backwater hick town anyway. She should have stayed in DC where she belonged.

At the bedroom door, she switched on the overhead light, then paused and let her clothing fall from her body to pile into a sopping pyramid around her feet. Kicking loose from them, she stomped naked across the carpeted floor of the bedroom and into the bathroom. She turned the shower knobs harder than necessary and felt her anger ease somewhat as the heated stream flowed across her body.

Later, hair in a towel and face subdued, she scooped the wet clothing from the floor and made her way to the laundry room at the northern end of the house. She paused before entering the small, twilight-darkened room, sudden fear snatching at her heart.

“‘Say please,’” she whispered as she reached around the doorframe to snap on the blessedly bright light.

The phone rang just after she switched on the washing machine. Rushing into the kitchen, she snatched her cell off the table and checked the caller ID. She answered it eagerly.

Shay sighed with pleasure. “Dee, how are you? You didn’t call this afternoon.”

Donald Sloan had been her best friend since he’d rescued her that sorry morning in October four years ago. They talked several times a day, and Shay had been worried because he hadn’t called all afternoon. Her irrational fear that he had forgotten about her had spurred the run that resulted in her encounter with that horrible woman.

“I am so good. You’ve just got to meet him.” His self-satisfied voice resounded in her ears.

“Him? Him who? Have you met someone?” Shay leaned into the refrigerator searching for iced tea. Finding the mostly empty pitcher she poured what remained into a glass.

“His name is Gregory, and we met at the law library. He asked for my phone number and I got his too.”

“Aw, Don, I’m so happy for you. When will you see him again?” She took a long gulp of the tea, sorry that there wasn’t more of it. Her run and the subsequent dunk in the pond had made her thirsty.

“This weekend. We’re thinking about driving into the country, maybe doing some antiquing.”

“That sounds like a great idea. Wish I could go.”

“Now, Shay, I tried to talk you out of moving to that godforsaken place. My only hope is that you’ll come to your senses and move back here with your friends where you belong. How was it today?”

“It was good. Strange thing happened this afternoon, though. I was out running, really getting into it, forgetting all about Pepper, and I run right into this gorgeous blond tomboy. I knocked her over and into this cooler of fish she had.”

“Fish?”

“Yeah, she was fishing. Go figure. Anyway, there we were, in the mud, rescuing the fish by tossing them back into this pond.” The corners of Shay’s mouth lifted in unexpected merriment as she remembered the scene.

“And then what happened?” His voice was low and filled with curiosity.

“I was trying to carry some fish but slipped and fell, into the water, and of course, lost my temper, as usual.”

“As usual,” he echoed cheerfully.

“Then she started acting all bossy and it sort of scared me.”

“Like Pepper?”

“Yes, like her.”

“So then what did you do?” Real concern tinged his voice and she felt guilty for upsetting him yet again.

“Like I said, lost my temper, called her some rude names…”

“And beat a hasty retreat?”

Shay laughed. “Absolutely. How well you know me.”

“Shay…you should have stayed and dealt with it. Not let her put you off that way. Not all women hit. Most don’t. You know this. Until you can stay and deal with confrontation, you’ll never get over all this crap.”

Shay felt irritation stir. “I know, Dee. I seem to have no control over my reactions, though. My body is conditioned to react negatively even if my mind deems a situation okay.”

Both sighed simultaneously, as if knowing some things couldn’t be changed.

“I guess you haven’t had a chance to tell Doc Frye about this latest…but what does she say to do about the fear you still have?”

Shay walked to the window and looked out at the forest thicket behind the house, thinking again that she should clear the land to improve visibility all the way around her property. “I’m not seeing her anymore. Or anyone else.”

“Then you’ve made up your mind.”

Shay could hear his disapproval. She nodded, then realized that wouldn’t translate across the phone. “Yes, I need to do this myself. It’s not good to depend on a therapist the rest of your life.”

Don laughed. “Hell, I’m putting my therapist’s kids through college. I thought everyone had lifelong help.”

“Well, that may be, but I don’t feel good about it. I’m getting stronger every day. I should be able to deal with this.”

“I wish you the best, sweetie. You know I’m on your side. Whatever I can do to help, let me know. I’m a good listener too. I should charge the same fees therapists do.”

Shay laughed. Dee was such a dear friend. She thought of his comfortable job managing a branch of Regional Funds Bank. “You have more money than you can spend already. I don’t think you need any more.”

“Lifestyles of the rich and famous—a beer, a pizza and old Judy Garland movies until two in the morning.Hmmm.”

“Whiner. What about this new hunk? This Gregory what’s-his-name?”

Don fell silent and his voice changed, became more serious. “Who knows? I’m always willing to take a chance though. Here’s Donnie boy, let’s use him and stomp him a good one when we’re through.”

Shay replied quickly, disturbed by Don’s pessimism. “He may be the keeper, honey. Trust your instincts. You’re wise enough now to realize when you’re being used that way.”

“I hope so.” He sighed deeply. “He’s just so gorgeous, and I know I’ll want to give him whatever he wants.”

“Maybe he won’t ask. What does he do?”

“Legal. Working as a lawyer. Just started with that big firm over on L Street.”

Shay smiled and turned from the window. Her eyes scanned the bright front room, looking for shadows. “There, see. He’ll have his own money.”

“Yeah, that was part of the appeal. As soon as I saw his card, I fell in love.” He laughed and Shay joined in.

“You are such a pain. Go do something banky. I’m going to unpack the china boxes and fill up Mother’s china cabinet.”

“Okay, but remember. She’s in jail, Shay. Jail. Bars, butchy matrons, the whole nine yards. She’s probably loving it. You can relax and enjoy life a little.”

“I will. I know. Love you, honey. Thanks for being my friend.”

“My pleasure, you know that. Hey, watch out for those gorgeous tomboys, though. I hear they’re in season out there in the country, so they may be looking for shelter.”

“You are so full of it,” Shay replied, laughing.

After signing off, Shay scrounged yesterday’s tuna salad from the refrigerator and made herself a sandwich. Eating alone at the small, wooden table, she glanced around her silent kitchen and felt a sense of gloom approach. She didn’t like spending all her time alone but knew it would be a long time before she would be able to trust and allow someone to enter her life. The thought saddened her.

The death of her parents, so close together, had taken its toll, leaving Shay with a huge void in her life. And since her time with Pepper, Shay had lost touch with most of her established friendships, personal and business. Being a victim of abuse sometimes brings out a latent fear in people; Shay had seen it in several friends’ eyes when the court case had become public knowledge. Now she faced the task of building a new life for herself in an entirely new town. She sighed and chewed. The task seemed so overwhelming; she wasn’t even able to focus on it for any length of time.

Shay longed to be who she had been before Pepper entered her life.

Pepper. Dorothy Presley Pope: a handsome, muscular butch with white blond hair and dynamic blue eyes. She had a sweet smile too, one so sweet that it easily melted a woman’s heart. It certainly had melted Shay’s heart. Even now, when Shay pictured that practiced smile in her mind, her knees grew weak. The other images more than made up for that sudden lapse into weakness, however: the drunken rogue, the weeping penitent, the angry harridan.

Shay sighed and finished her sandwich. Fish. Fishing. She thought of the tall tomboy then and pictured her in her mind. What she could remember. Mostly she remembered perfect white teeth in a tanned face and strange eyes the color of pale coffee. She’d never seen eyes quite that color before. The color helped make the eyes more expressive, the
café au lait
mirroring the rapidly changing emotions Shay’s behavior had engendered in her. Embarrassment and remorse nagged at Shay, and she vowed to apologize if their paths ever crossed again.

CHAPTER THREE

The house Liza shared with her father and her younger brother, Richard, was modest in appearance but rich in location. Situated at the edge of the Bon Secour National Wildlife Refuge, the aged, rambling home occupied a prime piece of real estate. Developers wanting to buy him out for the oil rights had already approached her father many times. Liza knew how much he loved it, though, and was sure he would never sell. This was part of the reason why, when he had been diagnosed with skin cancer and was preparing to undergo treatment, he’d called Liza home from the outskirts of Montgomery, to care for him and also, she was sure, to help jump-start her love of the old home place.

The second born of Tom and Sienna Hughes’ four children, Liza knew she was the most dependable. The oldest, Steve, successfully sold insurance for a living but drank more than a little and wore a belligerent attitude as though it were a three-piece suit. His wife, Mary, an old school chum of Liza’s, complained constantly, and Liza had listened to way more grief about her brother than she cared to admit. Two good things had come from their stormy marriage and Liza adored them. Her nephew, Mason, was a very mature ten, and her niece, Stevie, six, was a bundle of charm and manipulation.

Liza’s younger sister, Chloe, was a Type A dynamo. If the theory of birth order flip-flopping was true, then Chloe was the poster child. Bypassing both Steve and Liza in ambition, she worked as a legal assistant, controlling the offices of Warren and Warren better than if she were a senior partner. Nothing happened in that office without her stamp of approval and both elder and younger Warren repeatedly sang her praises. Clearly, they relished her hypercontrol, which allowed them to go freely about the business of representing clients and bringing in the money.