Double Identity. Diane Burke

Double Identity - Diane  Burke


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I think God gifts the sculptor with just a tiny bit of insight into what it must have been like for Him when He created us out of dust,” Sophie said.

      “I thought you didn’t believe in God.” Cain grinned at her.

      “I believe in God. I’m just not on speaking terms with Him right now.”

      “Really? Do you think that’s wise? Who shut the door? You or Him?”

      Sophie chewed on her lower lip and lowered her head.

      Not wanting her to slip back into a morose mood, Cain gripped her elbow and steered her toward the kitchen. “C’mon, let me help you clean up this mess. Find me a broom and I’ll sweep up. But don’t you dare tell Holly I had anything to do with housework. She’s been after me for years to clean up after myself at the house, and I’ll never hear the end of it if she learns I actually know how to use a broom.”

      Cain followed Sophie from room to room as she surveyed the damage to her home and belongings. Her shoulders sagged and each step seemed difficult for her. But she didn’t cry anymore.

      Thank you, Lord, for small favors. You know how a woman’s tears make me feel so helpless. And that leads to bad decisions. Fatal decisions.

      They had just come down the short hall when the sheriff stepped into their path.

      “Ms. Clarkston, I’m fixin’ to head out. We’ve done all we can do for now.”

      Sophie wrapped her arms around herself and nodded. She looked pitiful. Fragile. Defeated. Alone. A man’s heart would have to be made of ice-cold steel not to be moved. Apparently, the sheriff agreed with Cain’s line of thought. He placed a comforting hand on Sophie’s arms and his voice softened. “This is a lousy way to welcome you to Promise, Ms. Clarkston. And I’m really sorry that you have to suffer through it.”

      He stepped back and straightened his hat. “I’m planning on getting to the bottom of this, ma’am. You can count on it. And as soon as I get the chance to talk to your daddy, I’m sure we’ll be able to clear up some of the misunderstandings.”

      Sophie’s shoulders stiffened. She offered a weak smile, nodded but remained silent.

      “Meanwhile, I’m leaving you in good hands.” The sheriff gestured to Cain. “I’m sure he plans to stay here and help you clean up this mess. Isn’t that right, son?” Cain smiled. Son. He hadn’t been called that since his grammar school days. “Don’t worry, Sheriff. I’m on it.”

      The sheriff nodded, signaled to his men and they left.

      Sophie didn’t release a breath until she saw their cars disappear down the dirt road, spewing a cloud of dust.

      “What’s going to happen when the sheriff discovers my dad’s information is fake?” she asked in a soft, unsteady voice.

      “I imagine he’ll come back with a lot more questions.” Cain lifted her chin with his finger and gazed into her turbulent green eyes. “But since you don’t know any more than he does, you have nothing to be afraid of.”

      “Right.” Sophie offered a tentative smile. “I didn’t do anything wrong and I don’t have anything to worry about, do I?”

      “I wouldn’t go that far. You don’t have anything to worry about from the sheriff.” Cain gestured around the living room. “But someone is going to a lot of trouble to make sure you worry about them.”

      FIVE

      Two hours later, Cain tied up the last of the trash bags and hauled them out to the shed. He could see Sophie leaning in the doorway, her arms folded across her chest, waiting for him to return. When he approached he noted a purplish hue shadowing the tender skin beneath her eyes and a deep sadness radiating from within her. The tears she’d fought hard to hold at bay all day slowly flowed down her cheeks. She straightened and her arms fell to her sides.

      “Why is this happening, Cain? I can’t make any sense of it. Dad and I lived a quiet life. Minded our own business. I don’t understand why anyone would want to harm us.” She clamped her teeth together and swiped the tears from her cheeks. “I need to know what happened to him. And I plan to find out.”

      Cain gazed at the petite five-foot-two bundle of resolve standing in front of him and he didn’t know how to keep his heart encased in steel—only that he would, he had to, no matter what. He couldn’t afford to make a second mistake. He’d paid too high a price for the last one. A wave of pain squeezed his heart at the memories and, rather than try to push them back into the closed little closets he’d created in his mind, he embraced the pain. The pain was good. The pain would help him erect a wall—and keep it there.

      His gaze traveled up and down the length of her. Way out of her element, looking bewildered, afraid, still Sophie stood there, shoulders back, head held high, and threw down the gauntlet for him to step up and help or get out of her way. He smiled and shook his head. Of course he was going to help. As soon as he figured out how to find a ghost.

      “Relax, Sophie. I told you I’d help and I will.”

      He rested his head back against the porch column and took a few minutes to enjoy the impending sunset. The sun hung low in the sky. Brilliant colors of pink, lavender, blue and purple swirled across the sky. He wasn’t sure which was God’s most artistic masterpiece, the breathtaking sunset or the silhouette of Sophie standing on the top step of the porch.

      “I wish you’d come into town with me.” He tried to keep his apprehension out of his voice. The last thing she needed was more stress today. But it didn’t feel right leaving her out here surrounded by woods and all alone.

      “Don’t be silly,” Sophie said. “This is my home.”

      “I know but…”

      “No buts. The people who tossed my house are probably as dog tired as I am. They’re not planning on coming back tonight.” She smiled up at him. “Now, go. Seriously. Before it gets much later.”

      He straightened but didn’t move off the porch.

      “Cain, really, I appreciate you worrying about me. I truly do. But I’ll be fine. I’ll go inside and lock the doors and the windows the second you leave. Besides, your hourly rate and my budget aren’t that compatible.” She grinned the second he started to protest and then he realized she was teasing him about owing him money. She knew he wouldn’t think of charging her for this and had gotten the rise out of him she’d expected.

      He grinned in return. “A man knows when he’s been defeated.” He bowed his head and then lumbered down the steps. He opened the driver’s door and paused before slipping inside. “Lock up. Immediately.”

      Sophie stood and saluted. “Yes, sir.”

      Cain shook his head, slid behind the wheel and started the engine.

      She watched the tail end of his compact car disappear down the dirt road. A grin twisted her lips. From the size of the dust cloud behind him, it was obvious his foot leaned heavily on the accelerator. For a man who hadn’t wanted to leave he sure was in a hurry now.

      Sophie started to go inside but decided to steal a moment—just one, quiet, uneventful moment—and enjoy the twilight. She wrapped an arm around the porch post and stared into the distance. This was exactly the kind of night her father and she would have spent together. They’d have worked on their separate projects most of the day, come together for dinner, and then carried a final cup of coffee out on the porch to sit, talk, just be together.

      Her throat closed up. Oh, Daddy, how could you do this? Instantly her mind jumped to thoughts she didn’t want to have and taunted her with them. Are you sure he’s your father? How do you know? You don’t even know his real name. How can you be sure of anything anymore? The emotional pain that swept from head to toe couldn’t have hurt more if she was being physically tortured.

      She had lived her entire life believing she was


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