Shattered Identity

by Sandra Robbins

  Lisa closed her car door and waited for the two men to join her. She nodded toward the deputy. “Wayne, this is Deputy Clark. He’s helping us out on the island for a few days.” She turned back to the officer. “And this is my insurance agent, Wayne Simms.”

  Wayne extended his hand. “Always glad to meet one of our county law enforcement officers.”

  “Just here to help Brock and Scott out for a few days.” Deputy Clark glanced at his watch. “The last ferry of the day for the mainland leaves in about thirty minutes. I need to be on board if I’m going to make it home tonight. Since Lisa’s had some break-ins, I need to make sure everything’s all right before I shove off.”

  Lisa motioned for the two men to follow her. “Let’s go in through the back door.”

  As they rounded the corner of the house, a sudden gust of wind rustled the leaves on a fig tree in the yard and rattled the wind chimes hanging on the back porch. Lisa smiled at the soothing chords emitted by the metal pipes, stepped onto the porch and inserted her key in the lock.

  Another blast of air shook the house and sent two aluminum webbed beach chairs from the patio blowing across the backyard in opposite directions. “Oh, no,” she gasped. “I’d better get those before they blow away.”

  She jumped from the back porch with Deputy Clark right behind. “I’ll get the one on the right. You get the other one,” he called out.

  Lisa sprinted to the back of her property and grabbed the chair. “Got it,” she yelled.

  Deputy Clark with his chair in tow approached from the side of the yard. “Here’s the other one.”

  She headed toward the house, where Wayne still stood on the back porch. The wicker swing hanging at one end swayed in the wind. She’d spent many peaceful moments there reading and listening to the wind chimes. Her gaze moved to the small patio, and she recalled cookouts with Kate and her sisters. Why did those happy memories come back now when she was about to put the house up for sale? She sighed and shook her head. She’d made up her mind a long time ago to sell, and her burglar hadn’t forced her to change her decision. Now she needed to get to work so that she could move on.

  “Lisa, your telephone’s ringing.” Wayne’s voice cut through her thoughts.

  “That’s okay. I have an answering machine.”

  Wayne pushed the door open. “I don’t mind getting it.” He stopped and glanced over his shoulder. “Hey, I smell gas in here.”

  Before she could protest, Wayne rushed into the house. She took a step toward the house, but a blaze of light followed by a deafening boom jolted her backward. A heavy weight slammed against her, knocking her to the ground and sucking the breath from her body. Something pinned her to the ground, and she gasped for air. Her eyes widened in shock at the realization that Deputy Clark’s limp body covered hers. He didn’t move.

  Her ears rang, and she blinked her eyes. She lay on her back staring upward over the officer’s shoulder. Above, the sun lit the blue clouds that floated by as on most afternoons on Ocracoke, but something was very wrong today. She pushed at the law officer, and he groaned. Blood trickled from a jagged wound on his head. Again she pushed, and he tumbled onto his back, his eyes closed.

  Scrambling to her knees, she leaned over the unconscious man and checked the pulse in his neck. He was alive, but she had no idea what kinds of injuries he had sustained. With her heart banging like a bass drum, she pushed to her feet and stared in incomprehension at the pile of rubble scattered across the area where her house had once stood. Only a few concrete blocks marked the foundation of the home that had been built by her great-grandparents.

  Nausea rose in her throat, and she wrapped her arms around her waist. In panic she scanned the yard for Wayne. Where was he? The memory of a ringing telephone and his last words ripped through her body and left a trail of unbelief in its wake. She sank to the ground next to Deputy Clark’s prone figure. With trembling fingers she reached into her pants pocket for her cell phone.

  Her eyes wouldn’t focus on the phone’s keypad. She blinked and rubbed her hands across her eyelids to clear her vision. Squinting, she held the phone at eye level and punched in the number for the island emergency services. Deputy Clark was badly injured, and she had to get help for him. For Wayne, though, there was nothing anyone could do. Sorrow flooded through her as she grappled with the enormity of the loss. He, along with her house and all her possessions, had evaporated in an instant. She didn’t know what had caused the explosion, but nothing that had happened to her up to this point could compare with the fear that now consumed her.

  SEVEN

  Scott Michaels, ready for a short break, glanced at his watch and frowned as he pulled into the parking lot at the police station. What was Brock’s cruiser doing in its usual space? He wasn’t scheduled to come on duty for another hour and a half. Then Scott remembered Brock had said something yesterday about paperwork he needed to get to Sheriff Baxter. Maybe that’s what had brought him in early.

  As he climbed from his car, he thought of Lisa and wondered how her meeting with her insurance agent was going. They should be at her house right now. He smiled at the thought of spending the evening with Lisa again. Even though the hours he’d spent with her came under the heading of official business, he’d enjoyed their time together. Lisa put him at ease, and he’d never felt that before.

  Lost in thought, he stepped onto the porch of the police station. At the moment he reached for the doorknob, a sound like a sonic boom split the air. He whirled, ran back to the parking lot and scanned the sky for black smoke. He’d heard enough explosions in the military to recognize that sound. Something big had blown up.

  Then he saw the smoke. A black cloud rose high into the afternoon sky. He shaded his eyes and tried to determine the location, but it was no use. Suddenly his lapel mike crackled. “Ten eighty at 100 Oyster Road. All EMS respond.”

  For an instant Scott froze. An explosion at Lisa’s house? He tried to make his legs move, but it was no use. It was as if his body had turned to stone.

  The mike squawked again. “Possible 10-54.”

  Now his legs went limp, and he braced his hand against the side of his car. A dead body? With the other hand he grabbed at his chest. His lungs burned as if all the air had been sucked from his body. He didn’t think he could move, but his survival instinct born of battle experiences kicked in. He lunged for the car door and jumped inside.

  Lisa. Lisa. Her name blazed through his head as if it rotated on a blinking sign. He had promised he would protect her. Had he failed her as he had the men in his command?

  The door to the police station burst open, and Brock ran to his cruiser. “Scott,” he yelled over his shoulder. “Get rolling to Lisa’s house.” He pulled the door to his car open and frowned at Scott, who still hadn’t pulled out. “Now!”

  Scott shook his head to rid it of the horrible memories of death and destruction raging in his mind. He’d seen enough carnage to last a lifetime. Now he had to face what might possibly be the worst ever—another person who’d died because of his failure.

  He took a deep breath, gunned the engine and roared out of the parking lot with the siren blaring. Tourists stood on every village street pointing at the cloud of smoke that now drifted toward the shoreline.

  As he’d done so many times before, he pulled up the memory and focused his thoughts on it. Remember the lamb. Remember the lamb. The words echoed through his mind.

  He skidded onto Oyster Road and raced behind Brock’s car toward Lisa’s house. At the end of the road he saw an ambulance and fire trucks. The car slid to a stop, and Scott was out before the engine died.

  “Please, God,” he prayed. “Let Lisa be all right. I don’t want to see her dead or injured like so many in my past. Please…”

  The spot where Lisa’s house had stood looked like a battlefield. Re
mnants of the cottage and its furnishings lay scattered across the front yard and to the rear of the property. Deputy Clark’s and Lisa’s smoke-stained cars sat in the driveway. Flying debris had shattered their windshields and dented the cars’ bodies. Scott’s stomach roiled at the sight of the destruction.

  Several volunteer firemen from the island station huddled around the yard, and two of the EMTs he had come to know stood at the back of the open ambulance. He raced after Brock toward the men.

  When they reached the vehicle, Scott hesitated before approaching the men. He didn’t want to ask about casualties. He couldn’t. What if Lisa lay on a gurney inside the vehicle either dead or dying? How could he ever cope with that?

  “What happened?” he heard Brock ask.

  Arnold Tucker, one of the EMTs, turned toward them. “All I know is that the house exploded. One victim was inside at the time.”

  “Who was killed in the explosion?” Scott tensed for the answer to Brock’s question.

  “An insurance agent named Wayne Simms,” Arnold answered.

  Brock glanced somberly at Scott. “He’s got a wife and two kids.” He turned back to Arnold. “Anybody else hurt?”

  Arnold pointed to the inside of the ambulance. “One of your deputies was hit by something during the blast. We’re about to transport him to the health center.”

  “Can I talk to him?”

  The EMT nodded, and Brock climbed into the back of the ambulance.

  Scott inched forward. No one had mentioned Lisa yet. “Wh-what about Lisa Wade, the owner of the house? Was she hurt?”

  Arnold shook his head. “No, she was at the back of the yard when the house exploded.” He pointed to a pickup truck on the other side of the ambulance. “That’s the fire chief’s truck. She’s sitting inside. I think she’s finished with her statement to him.”

  Scott closed his eyes and exhaled. Thank You, God, for sparing her life.

  He stepped to the back of the ambulance and peered inside. Brock bent over the still form of Deputy Clark. “Brock, Lisa’s in the truck on the other side of the ambulance. Do you want to question her, or would you rather I do it?”

  Brock’s ashen face mirrored the anguish Scott felt. “You go on. I’ll be there in a minute.”

  Arnold stepped up beside Scott and placed his hand on the door. “Deputy Gentry, we have to go now. You can talk to Deputy Clark as soon as Doc says it’s okay.”

  Brock squeezed the deputy’s arm and jumped to the ground. He inclined his head toward the truck. “Go on and talk to Lisa, Scott. I see the fire chief across the yard. I’ll check with him first.”

  Scott nodded and walked around to the passenger side of the fire chief’s truck. Before he could open the door, it swung open and Lisa tumbled out. Scott barely had time to reach for her before she wrapped her arms around him and began to sob. He closed his eyes and tightened his arms around her trembling body. There had been other times when he’d offered comfort to battle-scarred victims, but he’d never experienced the protectiveness he now felt for Lisa. All he wanted was to hold her in his arms until her fears vanished.

  “Scott,” she wailed, “I’ve never been so scared in my life.”

  She buried her face in his shoulder, and he raised his hand to stroke the back of her head. “Shhh, Lisa. You’re all right now. Brock and I are here. We’ll take care of you.”

  She drew her head back and stared into his eyes. “Did you hear about Wayne? He was in the house when it exploded.”

  She began to cry again, and Scott eased her head back to his chest. “Don’t think about that now. I’m thankful you’re alive. I prayed all the way here that you were all right.”

  A hiccup shook her body. “You prayed for me?”

  “Yes.”

  She pulled back, and her gaze searched his face. “No one has ever told me they prayed for me. I’m glad you were the first.”

  Unable to pull his eyes away, he stared down at her. “I am, too.”

  In that moment, Scott knew his relationship with Lisa had passed the point of being classified as a friendship. Something deeper had developed. It was still too raw and new to put a name on it, but whether he wanted it or not, it had happened.

  After what seemed an eternity, she released her hold on him and took a step backward. His arms drifted to his sides. His skin that had burned with heat a few seconds before now felt cold. All he wanted was to hold her in his arms, but the highly charged moment had been broken.

  She pushed her hair out of her eyes and glanced past him. “Where’s Brock?”

  Scott cleared his throat and pulled a notepad from his pocket. “He’s talking with the fire chief.”

  The piercing wail of the ambulance siren split the air. They watched the vehicle with Deputy Clark inside speed down the road. Lisa’s eyes filled with tears again. “H-how is Deputy Clark?”

  “I don’t know. The EMTs didn’t give us any details. There are a lot of unanswered questions right now we need to know. Can you tell me what happened?”

  For the next few minutes, he wrote as she related the events that led up to the moment the house exploded and sent deadly missiles of debris flying across the yard. He paused when she started to cry again. “Deputy Clark was unconscious, and I pushed him off me. Then when I stood up, I realized Wayne had been inside the house. He’s married to one of my friends from school. What will she do?”

  Before Scott could answer, Brock walked up. “Hi, Lisa. How are you doing?”

  She wiped at her nose with a tissue she pulled from a pocket. “As well as anybody can in a circumstance like this, I guess.”

  A sad smile pulled at Brock’s lips. “We’re thankful you weren’t hurt. I’ve called Kate. She’s coming to take you to Treasury’s house.”

  “Thanks, Brock.”

  “Have you given Scott your account of what happened?”

  “I have, but what did Chief Wilson say? Why does he think my house blew up?”

  He glanced at Scott and back at her. “We may never know for sure, but he has a theory.”

  Scott leaned closer. “What is it?”

  “He said you told him Wayne heard the phone ring and opened the back door you had already unlocked. Is that right?”

  Lisa nodded. “I yelled to him and told him I had an answering machine, but he said he smelled gas. The next thing I knew the house exploded.”

  Brock took a deep breath. “Chief Wilson said if there was a gas leak in the house, any number of things could have set it off, including a spark from a ringing telephone.”

  Scott shook his head. “But Lisa and I were here last night, and there wasn’t a gas leak then. Do you think this could be related to everything else that’s happened to Lisa in the last few days?”

  Brock shrugged. “I don’t know at this point. I guess we’ll have to find out.”

  Lisa faced the pickup truck, propped her elbows on the fender and buried her face in her hands. “This is a terrible nightmare. First I have my home invaded and vandalized, and now there’s a man dead. Nothing can be worse than that.”

  Her cell phone chimed, and she pulled it from her pocket. Her hand shook as she stared down at the screen. “What is it? Scott asked.

  “It’s a text.” She raised her head, and her gaze locked with his. “It just got worse.”

  Scott had seen fear on grown men’s faces many times in his life, but nothing had ever equaled the terror that darted across Lisa’s face. He reached for the phone. “Let me see that.”

  She stared at him a moment before she released the phone. His fingers curled around it, and he read the cruel message that almost pulsed on the screen. Watch your back. I’m closer than you think.

  Pursing his lips, Scott handed the phone to Brock. He wished he could wrap Li
sa in his arms as he had done minutes before, but he didn’t move. In the last few minutes, the stakes had risen to a new level. He was no longer looking for a burglar.

  Now he was on the hunt for a killer.

  Hours later, Lisa sat on the back porch and sipped the glass of lemonade Treasury had fixed for her before she retired for the night. The elderly woman never ceased to amaze her. She cooked and cleaned all day and never seemed to tire of all the upkeep required to keep the big Victorian dwelling that housed her bed-and-breakfast in shipshape condition. She would be up early in the morning to begin another day by preparing a big breakfast for her guests to eat at the wicker tables arranged on the big wraparound porch.

  Now with no home, no car and only the few belongings she’d brought with her to Treasury’s a few days ago, Lisa had little in the way of worldly possessions. Somehow tonight it didn’t matter. Over the last few days she had come to see how blessed she really was. Treasury had opened her home to her, Kate had calmed her after the house explosion and Scott had been by her side most of the time.

  She snuggled back in the big wicker chair and drew her feet up under her. A warm feeling flowed through her body at the thought of Scott. A few days ago she’d felt he was aloof and unfriendly. Now she’d seen another side of him. There was a lot more to the real Scott than he let other people see. She had caught a glimpse of a caring human being, and she liked what she saw.

  A car’s headlights blazed in the driveway as someone drove to the back of the bed-and-breakfast. Lisa sat up straight and half rose from her chair, ready to run if necessary. She breathed a sigh of relief when Scott’s car came into sight.

  He pulled to a stop and headed toward the back door. The oil lamp on the table cast a glow across his chiseled features as he stepped onto the porch. Lisa suppressed a gasp at how handsome he looked, still in his uniform, even after a rough day.

  “Hello, Scott.”

  He whirled in surprise. “Lisa, I didn’t see you. What are you doing out here?” His eyebrows arched, but that didn’t disguise the fatigue that lined his face.