Double Identity

by Diane Burke

  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 h
adn’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.

  He leaned his head back on the sofa, closed his eyes and ran his other hand through his hair. “This isn’t the conversation I’d planned to have when I drove out here tonight, Sophie.” He felt her body stiffen at his words.

  “Why did you come?”

  He opened his eyes. One look at the questions…the subtle fear in her eyes…broke his heart.

  “Has there been a break in the case? Something I should know?”

  He released her hand and slid his arm around her shoulders. “Federal marshals came to see me tonight. What I have to say isn’t going to be easy for you to hear.”

  FOURTEEN

  “Federal marshals?” Sophie’s hand flew to her chest. She jumped to her feet and faced him. “Did they find my father? Has he been arrested? Is he…is he dead?”

  “Sorry. I don’t know anything more about your father’s disappearance.”

  “The feds don’t know where my father is?”

  Cain shook his head.

  “Then why did they come?”

  “They showed up in my office to question me. Apparently, Big Brother has any computer searches of your father’s real name flagged and it brought them running.”

  “Wait a minute.” Sophie started pacing back and forth. “They came to you because they are looking for my dad? And they thought you might know where he is?”

  “They wanted to know why I was investigating your dad. They wanted to know who I was working for.”

  She froze in place and had to force out her words. “Me? They wanted to know about me?”

  “Yes.”

  “And what did you tell them.”

  “I told them my client list was confidential and I refused to comment unless they brought a court order.”

  Sophie blinked hard. Her legs trembled and she sat down on the wooden coffee table in front of the sofa before she fell. Her knees brushed against Cain’s. He leaned forward and clasped her hands in his. The warmth of his skin, the strength of his grasp calmed her, made her feel safe.

  “Why, Cain? Are the stories about him true? Is my father on the run from the law?”

  “Not exactly.”

  Sophie thought her head would explode. What was going on? Why was Cain being so cryptic?

  “Here.” Cain handed her his iced tea.

  “I don’t need your iced tea, Cain. I need answers. What’s going on?”

  Cain sighed heavily. He sat back on the sofa, pulling her off the coffee table so she could sit beside him. “I’m torn, Sophie. I have information you need to know but…”

  “But what? You think it will hurt me? You think I’m some fragile little flower that can’t handle bad news?” She glared at him. “For your information, Mr. Garrison, I’ve been hit with both barrels over and over again for the past month and I’m still standing, so no more dancing around. I’ve paid you to find out information about my father. So deliver that information…. Now.”

  Cain couldn’t help himself and laughed out loud. It took him a second to compose himself and then, still grinning, he said, “Wow, I wasn’t expecting that reaction. And you’re right. You’ve been a pillar of strength through all of this. I firmly believe, Miss Sophia Joy Clarkston Gimmelli, that you can handle just about anything. You have a backbone made of steel. It’s one of the things I admire about you the most.”

  He pulled her to her feet. “Let’s go out on the porch. It’s a nice night. We can sit on the swing. I promise no more stalling. I’ll tell you everything.” He crossed his heart and smiled encouragingly.

  He slid his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. Sophie liked the way she fit comfortably against his side, almost like jigsaw puzzle pieces meshed perfectly together. She just hoped before this night was over she’d find a way to make him see how well they fit together, too.

  “Fine. Let me grab a pitcher of iced tea and some glasses. I’ll be right out.”

  Once outside, she poured their drinks and handed one to Cain. She lit some citronella candles she used both for light and bug repellent before settling down beside him on the porch swing.

  He threw his arm over her shoulder and cradled her against his side. The faint scent of his aftershave teased her nostrils and tempted her to burrow closer. The light summer breeze, a welcome relief from the prior heat of the day, tossed an errant strand of hair across her face. She reached up and tucked the hair behind her ear.

  Cain rocked the swing in a slow rhythmic movement with his foot. The sound of crickets, frogs and small nocturnal animals rustling through the brush serenaded them.

  Sophie thought this moment was perfect. Perfect weather. Perfect location. Perfect guy. A dream come true. And she didn’t want it to come to a crashing end. So she remained silent, resting her head in the crook of his arm, relishing his nearness and simply enjoying the moment.

  But like all moments, perfect or not, time passes and Cain broke the silence.

  “The marshals tried to play hardball at first. Shooting a million questions at me and answering none. But we continued to talk. Eventually, they thought it would be in their best interest if they shared what they knew and then see where it would get them, since nothing they were about to tell me would jeopardize their current investigation.”

  Sophie nodded and took another sip of her tea.

  “Sophie, you already know that your father was the son of Vincent Gimmelli. The feds helped fill in the gaps to the past.”

  “This is the part I’m not going to like, isn’t it?”

  “Probably. But it’s a part you need to know.”

  She nodded. “Go ahead, I’m all ears.”

  “Your father was not just the son of one of the capos of organized crime. As you already know, he was the only son and heir to everything.” He let that sink in and took a sip of tea before continuing. “He should have been groomed to be his father’s replacement as head of the ‘family.’ But Vincent didn’t want his son to follow in his footsteps.”

  Sophie tried to stop her teeth from chattering as she listened to this story of her family history. �
��You’re telling me that even though my grandfather ran the whole thing, was king of the hill, so to speak, that he didn’t want my dad as his heir to the throne? Why?”

  This time it was Cain’s turn to lift a questioning eyebrow.

  Sophie stood up and began to pace back and forth on the porch. She wondered why Cain was grinning at her until she realized she was kneading a block of clay in her hand as she paced.

  “Your grandfather had a love for the arts. Rumor has it that as a very young child he displayed quite a creative side of his own. Won a few art awards in grammar school.”

  Cain rested a foot on his knee and leaned back in the swing. “He’d been denied the opportunity to follow that dream…to build that talent. When Vincent recognized your father’s talent at an early age, he decided to live vicariously through him and shielded him from his business.

  “Of course, as your father matured into an intelligent young man, Vinnie wasn’t able to hide his business dealings from him as easily. The feds told me when their surveillance team discovered how upset and angry Dominic was with his father, they thought he’d be an easy mark for them to turn him into a state’s witness.

  “Before they could make a move, Vinnie shipped your dad off to school in Europe. He went to college, got a master’s degree in art, lived in Paris, England, Italy. When your father finally moved back to the States, your dad refused to return to Maryland. That’s why he accepted a teaching job in Virginia. And that’s where he met your mother. She’d signed up for a summer art class. He was the instructor.”

  Sophie stopped her pacing and leaned against the porch railing and stared out into the darkness.

  She felt Cain’s presence behind her, felt his breath fan the back of her neck.

  “You okay, Soph?”

  She nodded but didn’t turn to face him. “It’s all sort of sad in a way. My dad was a good guy. It must have been so difficult for him when he learned the truth about his father, to have to sever ties with a man I’m sure my dad loved. And then to have to live his life being unjustly accused of things because of who his family was.”