Double Identity (16 page)

“Sophie, tell me what happened.”

“It doesn’t matter. Really.” She stepped around her. “I don’t feel much like celebrating right now, that’s all. Sorry.”

“Where are you going?” Martha called after her.

“Home.”

“But Holly is tied up at the diner until this evening and Cain doesn’t want you out there by yourself.”

“That’s okay, Mrs. Garrison. I’m a big girl. Please tell Holly not to come by this evening. I’m probably going to lock up and go to bed early anyway.”

“Wait!” Mrs. Garrison’s sharp tone made Sophie stop in her tracks and look back. “Come back to the house with me.” She hurried to catch up with Sophie and then touched her arm. “Or let me come with you.”

“I’ll be fine, Mrs. Garrison. Don’t worry.”

She turned to go and Martha stopped her again, her voice softer this time. “I don’t know what those women said to you. But I know from your reaction that it wasn’t kind, and I’m sure it wasn’t true.”

Sophie dipped her head.

Martha Garrison gently patted her shoulder. “Belief in the Lord doesn’t take away our sinful natures, honey. It’s something we have to struggle with every day. Sometimes we aren’t very successful. I’m so sorry that those women showed you their human side and not their Christian one.”

Sophie knew the truth of those words in her heart but it didn’t stop the hurt. Fresh tears burned her eyes. She nodded her head and hurried out of the hall before Mrs. Garrison could see her cry.

THIRTEEN

C
ain flipped on the light switch. He eased out of his suit jacket and then settled into the leather chair behind his office desk. He halfheartedly leafed through the mail he’d carried inside. Nothing pressing. Except, of course, for the considerable-size check he’d received for payment on an insurance fraud case. It would be enough to meet this month’s bills and allow him the extra time he needed to focus on Sophie’s case.

He tossed the check in his top drawer. Getting up and crossing the room, he lifted a slat on the blinds and stared into the street. Not that there was much to see. Streetlamps. Occasional store lights. But it didn’t matter if a full-size giraffe walked right past his window. He’d never notice. All he could see when he looked out his window anymore was Sophie—chasing oranges for Mrs. Gleason—stepping into the street—a black sedan barreling out of the alley.

He groaned. The last five days had been torture. Even though he knew Holly had stepped in and provided protection, even though his mother had made a point of visiting Sophie daily and even though he’d called her himself a half dozen times a day, it had been torture being away from her.

He missed seeing her impish, teasing smile. He missed the fiery spark of determination in her eyes. Who was he kidding? He missed everything about her more than he was willing to admit.

He’d thought it best for both of them if he distanced himself. Return things to a totally professional level and leave personal feelings out of it. He’d thought it would be easy not seeing her. He’d thought wrong.

He plopped back down in his chair. Fatigue settled into every bone of his body. He’d purposely pushed himself to squeeze two weeks’ worth of work into five days, crisscrossing the state, taking on and finishing jobs he could have easily assigned to others. Pushing himself to endure a schedule he’d never have asked or expected from anyone else.

Punishing himself.

Because he’d told Sophie the truth about the end of his career, about the thread of life he’d held on to for the longest time…about Lucy. He’d finally revealed to another human being the toll it had taken on him, not just physically but emotionally. It had been a huge weight lifted from his shoulders. Acknowledging the mistakes and the consequences of his actions helped him begin to deal with the feelings he’d buried for years. But the relief dissipated when he realized he’d done it again. He’d allowed himself to become emotionally involved with someone on a case, and it scared him to death.

So he ran.

He buried himself in work. He’d tried to convince himself he could turn back the clock and return to a strictly professional relationship. He could forget the sound of her laughter, the scent of her skin, the touch of her lips.

He’d been as successful at that as he had been at forgetting how to breathe.

He closed his eyes and leaned his head against the back of his chair.

So, what now, Lord? Where did I go from here? Have I
wandered off the path You intended for my life? Or did You plant Sophie on that path? Is it Your intention that I give her my heart or is it my own human weakness drawing me to her?

He wiped a hand over his face and slumped forward, his elbows on his desk.

She’s lost her faith, Lord. She doesn’t believe You answer our prayers. How do I make her understand? You answer every prayer. Sometimes Your answer is ‘yes’. Sometimes it’s ‘not yet, wait’. And sometimes Your answer is ‘no’. But You answer. Speak to my heart, Lord. What am I supposed to do?

The office door opened and two men, dressed in dark suits on this warm summer night, stepped into the room.

Cain sat up straight. He knew instantly who they were. Trouble with a capital
T.

“Good evening, gentlemen. What can I do for you?”

They approached the desk. The taller, leaner man held out his hand, flashing a badge.

“Federal marshals, Mr. Garrison. It’s time we have a talk.”

Sophie carried a cup of freshly brewed iced tea and a book from her massive to-be-read pile and settled comfortably into her favorite chair. Silence surrounded her in the empty cottage and she smiled. She’d loved that Cain and his family had gone out of their way to fill her every waking moment with their presence. It had been reassuring. She’d felt protected.

But, at times, Sophie had also felt overwhelmed, out of her element. She’d grown up a homeschooled only child with a father who worked long into the evenings on his craft. She’d learned to enjoy her solitude, even thrived in it. Of course, if the solitude lasted too long, if her father locked himself away for hours, sometimes days, working on a new project, she admitted to being lonely. But after two weeks of someone nearby at all times she craved her personal space, this delicious time to herself to do anything, or nothing, as she saw fit.

She knew she’d be safe. She’d barely taken her eyes off the rearview mirror the entire drive from town and confirmed she hadn’t been followed. Every window in the house was locked. Both the front and back doors had multiple dead bolt locks. Professional strength pepper spray rested in the right pocket of her jeans and her cell phone with 911 on speed dial sat on the table beside her chair.

Yep, she was safe. She could take care of herself. Wouldn’t her dad be proud of her?

Tucking her legs beneath her she turned to the first page of her book and entered a world of suspense, intrigue and romance—a safe world where she didn’t have to be the heroine in her own melodrama.

Afternoon shadows melted into darkness. Sophie turned on several lamps, made herself a sandwich, took a glance outside to reassure herself that the black sedan hadn’t made a stealth reappearance, and returned with delight to her novel.

An hour later she finished the last page and closed the book with satisfaction. Pins and needles in her left leg from sitting on it too long caused her to limp in circles as she tried to work the circulation back into her leg. As she circled the chair for a third time, a sound caught and held her attention.

A car was moving up the graveled drive.

Sophie’s eyes flew to the clock. It was after nine.

Holly.

The diner closed at eight. She wished she had respected Sophie’s request not to come. She should be home tonight sleeping in her own bed instead of aiming for Sophie’s sofa. She didn’t need protection tonight. She was doing fine on her own.

She got up from the chair and hurried to the door. Maybe she shouldn’t let her in. Maybe she should just assure Holly that she was fine and insist on her going home tonight. But did friends treat friends that way? She’d never had a best friend before and she didn’t want to hurt her feelings.

She peered out the side window. Even though she couldn’t get a good look at the car in the dark, she knew from its shape that it wasn’t Holly’s fire-red convertible. This car was in the shadows too much to identify the make and model. Slowly, it rolled up in front of the cottage and stopped. Once the headlights were turned off, the moon was the only outside illumination.

All Sophie could see was the dark figure of a man exiting the driver’s side door. Her fingers clasped the pepper spray. When she realized she’d left her cell phone behind, she raced back, retrieved it and held it tightly in her left hand, her thumb ready to press speed dial. She approached the door and drew the curtain back. Her breath caught in her throat.

Cain.

Her heart leapt but this time in anticipation, not fear. Her eyes drank him in as if he were the perfect ice-cold drink on a hot summer day. She noticed the slump of his shoulders, his limp more pronounced. He was exhausted. And yet he had still taken the time to come and see her.

Sophie’s fingers flew over the locks and flung open the door. She’d wanted to say something profound, something witty, something that would make him happy that he’d come to see her no matter how exhausted he was.

Instead, she said, “Hi.”

“Hi, yourself.” He lowered the hand he’d raised to knock on the door and grinned at her. “Tell me you knew one hundred percent it was me before you opened that door.”

How could he not know that she’d recognize him anywhere? Her heart skipped each time he was near. Her pulse raced and her lips took on a mind of their own with a continuous grin. If she were blind, her heart would recognize him. There was a crackling in the air between them. A heightened awareness of his scent, the feel of his touch, right down to the gently calloused tips of his fingers.

The past five days had seemed like five years. She wanted to throw her arms around his neck and tell him how much she missed him and how happy she was to see him again.

Instead, she held up the pepper spray and cell phone. “I was prepared for battle on the remote chance it wasn’t you.”

He grinned and inclined his head toward the living room. “Mind if I come in?”

She opened the door wider.

“I hope you don’t mind if I make myself comfortable. It’s been a long day.” Removing his tie, he tucked it into a side pocket, slipped off his suit jacket and placed it on the arm of the sofa. He plopped down and stretched his long legs in front of him. Almost absently he massaged his thigh and Sophie knew he was more than exhausted. He was in pain.

“Can I get you anything?”

He eyed the partial remains of her sandwich. “If it’s not too much trouble, one of those would be great. I haven’t eaten since breakfast in the airport this morning.”

“No problem. While I’m at it, how about something for the pain in your leg?”

His eyes flew to her. He seemed surprised at her perceptiveness and nodded.

Sophie returned a few minutes later and handed him a platter, including two pills to ease his leg pain, and then sat in the chair opposite him.

He swallowed the pills, then attacked the sandwich as if it were a succulent filet mignon instead of a ham and Swiss cheese on rye with side helpings of pickles and potato chips.

She waited for him to finish before she smiled and asked, “So, stranger, where have you been?”

Those few words changed the atmosphere in the room instantly from comfortable and friendly to tense and awkward in the time it would take to flip a light switch.

“I’ve called you every day. I had to take care of business.”

The defensiveness in his tone didn’t surprise her. People running away usually put up a defensive shield. Sophie’s heart hammered in her chest. Should she ignore the elephant in the room or force the issue that stood between them?

The shy, scared Sophie she used to be would have backed off. Truthfully, that Sophie wouldn’t have had the guts to flirt or ask personal questions in the first place. The new, improved Sophie knew that in this world a person needs to know how to be self-reliant—and sometimes bold. Circumstances had forced her to grow up quite a bit in the past month. She’d found an inner strength she hadn’t realized she possessed. She understood now that she was able to stand on her own two feet and she could think for herself.

And right now all she could think about was shooting the elephant in the room, so they could clear the air between them, so she would know where they stood with each other.

“You were great about calling every day. And I really appreciate the extra attention from Holly and your mom.” She smiled, keeping her tone soft and soothing.

He nodded and took a sip of his iced tea.

“But I need to know, Cain.” She caught and held his gaze. “What made you run away? Talking about Lucy? Or kissing me?”

A thundercloud washed across his expression. “I didn’t run away.” He spat the words out in a clipped, don’t-mess-withme-I’m-too-tired tone.

“Sure you did.” Her right toe tapped her nervous energy against the carpet. “I’m getting to be an expert on the subject of running away. My dad…myself…you.”

He stared at her but didn’t answer.

Her tone softened to a whisper. “I missed you, Cain.”

The tension in the room was as palpable as if a third party were present.

Slowly, she crossed over and sat down beside him. “Please, Cain. I need to understand. Was it the kiss? Or our conversation about Lucy? Did I push too hard?”

Push too hard? She actually had no idea what a gift it had been for him to be able to share his buried pain with another human being, to be able to release some of that pent-up hurt.

He gently cupped the side of her face. “Sophie…you’re right. You did push.” He struggled with putting his emotions into words. He brushed an errant strand of hair behind her ear. “And I did run.”

He clasped her hand, keeping her close so she wouldn’t move away. It took him a moment to realize she wasn’t planning to go anywhere. Her sea-green eyes moved over him with tenderness, understanding. The soft smile pulling at her rosy lips encouraged him.