Borrowed Identity (23 page)

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“I’m going to step into the hallway and call Michael on my cell phone, now, okay? Two more doors and we’re done. I want to check how he’s doing.”

She nodded in agreement, but after Paddy left her side she was hit by a sudden wave of panic. She was alone in the study. They hadn’t blocked the secret panel here. Except for the heavy desk there wasn’t anything to block it with. She was going to suggest they nail the corner bookcase shut.

A loud grunt followed by a thud reached her ears.

“Paddy?”

There was no answering call. She headed for the foyer, the hairs on the back of her neck standing at attention. Something was horribly wrong. She shouldn’t have let Paddy leave her side. They were supposed to stick together as per Michael’s orders.

Paddy was on the floor, slumped against the wall, head hanging forward. He was unconscious. There was a telltale patch of blood on the back of his gray head.

She shouted Michael’s name. There was no reply.

“I’m going to get Michael.” She reassured Paddy. “He’ll know what to do. I’ll be right back…I promise.”

She raced upstairs and called Michael’s name again. He could be in any of the rooms. She checked them one at a time, peering inside as she came to them. They were all empty. There was a possibility he’d already made it to the third floor and was checking out the ballroom.

But he would need a key to get in there. She didn’t use the ballroom. The huge room with its ten-foot dome ceiling, crystal chandeliers and smooth hardwood floor was probably still locked. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been there. Of course the key was just above the door on a small hook. He might have found it.

Fear chilled her to the bone. What if the killer had gotten to him before attacking Paddy? She couldn’t stand the thought of something happening to Michael. In a short time he had become the most important person in her life. She couldn’t lose him.

“Kelly?” The voice was weak and female, and sounded like Margo. “Kelly? Help me.”

The words floated down to her from the attic. The door was open an inch or two. That was odd. Kelly was sure she’d locked it and put the key back in the library.

She took a reluctant step toward the stairs leading to the attic. The whispered voice pleaded with her for help. It seeped through the crack, beckoning to her. Like a moth to the flame, she followed.
It
sounded like Margo. Could she be alive, after all?

Kelly froze at the top of the stairs and glanced down them. She should run for help, get Michael. But what if Margo couldn’t wait?

“Kelly, please. Help me.”

Kelly moved closer to the opening. She had no idea what to do next. Someone had knocked Paddy out cold and could be somewhere behind her, following her, maybe in the hallway just beyond the stairs. Margo was inside the tiny attic, quite possibly injured. The woman might have escaped from her captor long enough to call for help. If that were the case, why didn’t she come out into the light? Kelly was beginning to wonder if it was Margo’s voice she’d heard.

She wrung her hands, undecided on her next course of action. She knew what Michael would tell her to do, but he
wasn’t anywhere in sight. If she ran to him, the bad guy could catch up with Margo and hurt her. Perhaps even kill her this time.

“Margo, I’m coming.”

Kelly took a deep breath and plunged ahead, entering the dimly lit space.

M
ICHAEL FROZE
in midstep, straining his ears. Had he imagined someone calling his name? He started back in the direction he’d come from, heading for the staircase. He’d been gone long enough. He needed to check on Paddy and Kelly.

Moore House was designed like a maze. He had stumbled across the back stairs leading to the third floor by accident. So far he’d counted three sets of stairs leading to the top level. Although Kelly had insisted the doors were locked, he pushed them open with no trouble. There was a grand ballroom with a broken chandelier and a scratched up, wood plank floor. He thanked God he wasn’t allergic to dust. There must have been at least an inch of the stuff on everything he touched.

Michael neared the stairs.

A door opened as he passed by it, to a room he had checked earlier. He turned to greet the person, figuring it had to be Kelly. She was a stubborn woman. He had expected her to follow him, and he didn’t mind one bit. It was time for him to tell her about his decision regarding the future.

Elvin Grant stood in the doorway holding a gun. It was aimed at Michael’s chest.

“Don’t try anything,” Grant said. “My partner has your little girlfriend.”

Michael’s mouth went dry and his heartbeat tripled in tempo. He should have kept her close to him. Paddy was getting older. His reflexes weren’t what they used to be. If
anything happened to Kelly, Michael wouldn’t be able to forgive himself.

Another awful thought occurred to him. Grant hadn’t mentioned Paddy. His old friend could be seriously injured. Or worse.

“You have a partner?” Michael asked. “Your boss, you mean. Right?”

“Yeah. My boss.” The man gestured with the gun, indicating that Michael should walk down the hallway. “Go on. We’ll see your darling soon enough.”

“If anything happens to her,” Michael promised, “I’ll kill you. And it won’t be easy or quick for you.”

“Oh, I’m so scared. I’m positively shaking in my boots.” Grant hid behind false bravado, but Michael saw the fear and the uncertainty in his eyes. “On your way now.”

Michael obeyed the orders. He moved down the hallway, but kept his eyes open and his mind alert. He would figure out the best course of action. Then, without hesitation, he would deploy his plan.

“Who is your partner?”

Grant laughed. “As if I would tell you. Keep moving. We’re going to the master bedroom.”

The master bedroom? What was the fascination with that room?

Upon entering, Michael saw two chairs with rope draped loosely around them. There were only two. Either Paddy was dead or the bad guys weren’t planning on tying one of them up. Were they planning on taking a hostage? He would die before he allowed them to take Kelly away.

“Sit,” Grant snapped like a vicious bulldog.

Michael headed for the chair. A way out formulated in his head. If he could catch Grant off guard, he could grab the gun and surprise the man’s boss. The only problem was he didn’t have a diversion. He wished Paddy was with them. His old friend could read a look better than anybody.

“I assume your boss wants the diamonds,” Michael said.

“Yeah, that’s right. We want the jewels. Where are they?”

“You mean you don’t know?” Michael stalled for time.

“They were supposed to be in the bathroom, hidden behind the shower wall. At least that’s what Fuller wrote in a letter to his daughter. But we already looked there.” Grant shrugged. “Go ahead. Check it out. Somebody beat us to it.”

Michael went to the master bathroom and his mouth dropped open. The fire must have been set to get them out of the house for a while, long enough for the perpetrators to bust through the shower wall. Dust and debris covered the floor near the tub. He drew closer. There was a gaping hole where the faucet and showerhead used to be.

“You didn’t find them?”

“No, we didn’t find them,” Grant retorted mockingly. “If we’d found them, we wouldn’t be here anymore, would we?” he motioned for Michael to return to the bedroom. “Go on. It won’t be long now.”

“Is your partner going to join us?”

Grant stared at Michael in silence, refusing to answer. He lifted the ropes and motioned impatiently once again for Michael to take a seat in one of the chairs. The two men stood facing each other.

Michael’s fists were tight at his sides. He weighed his options. If he allowed Grant to tie him to a chair, he probably wouldn’t get a chance to jump the man. It was now or never.

T
HE ATTIC’S OVERHEAD
light flickered. The bulb was dying. It glowed brighter for a second before dimming once again. Kelly crossed the floor with cautious steps, not wanting to trip over a discarded box or miscellaneous junk. She made
a mental note to clean the attic later, after life got back to normal.

A sudden tingling sensation at the nape of her neck sent a warning through her nervous system. She wasn’t alone. There was somebody standing behind her. She prayed it was Michael.

Kelly turned slowly, trying to prepare herself for the worst.

Relief washed over her.

Margo had closed the door. Her neighbor stood in front of it, looking a bit worn around the edges. The woman was pale. Her clothes were dirty and torn. Other than that, she seemed fine. Physically at least.

“Margo, I’m so glad to see you.”

“I’m glad to see you too, dear. You have no idea what I’ve been through.”

“It’s okay now,” Kelly said. “Michael and I will help you.”

“Yes. I know.”

“We need to go find Michael,” Kelly said, striding forward to hug Margo.

“I don’t think so, dear.”

Kelly stopped halfway across the floor. “What? Why not?”

Margo pulled a gun from behind her back and held it steady with both hands. She aimed it at Kelly with a maniacal laugh.

Chapter Fourteen

“What are you doing?” Kelly barely got the question past her numb lips. “If you’re afraid that whoever kidnapped you is coming back, don’t be. Michael and I will protect you. Michael’s one of the good guys. He’s an agent with the CIA. He can protect you from the bad guy.”

“You silly girl.” Margo laughed, but it sounded more like a witch’s cackle. “You don’t get it, do you? I am the bad guy.”

“But the photograph? We thought you were dead.”

“I faked it, you harebrained twit. I pretended to be dead so that you would stop looking for me. No one, not even a CIA agent, would suspect a corpse.”

Time spent with Margo at her home, drinking her tea and eating her homemade cookies, scrolled through Kelly’s mind. She remembered their heart-to-heart talks at the kitchen table. Margo had been so sweet, so concerned. Had it all been a lie? Was Margo just one more person who had lied to her?

“I can see the wheels turning in your pretty little head,” Margo said. “You’re trying to figure out my motive. Well, let me help you. You stole my home from me.”

“No, I didn’t. I sold you the guest house. It’s yours. I didn’t threaten to take it back.”

“Mine?” Margo yelled. “Screw the guest house!
This
house is mine. Moore House belongs to me.”

Kelly had no idea what the woman was babbling about. Moore House had been in Kelly’s family for three generations. No one could have stolen it from Margo, because she’d never owned it.

Kelly shook her head.

“It’s true!” Margo shrieked. “This house was taken from my father by the stupid court system after his death. They took me away and gave me to strangers to raise. Mean strangers. But I’ve come back, and I want my house.”

“
You’re
Fuller’s daughter?” Kelly remembered her mother talking about the jewel thief’s offspring.

“That’s right, dear.” Margo’s voice dropped. Her hands wavered a bit. Kelly could tell the gun was getting heavy. If she could keep Margo talking, the woman wouldn’t have the strength to continue and Kelly could wrestle the gun from her. “We need to get going now.”

“Going?” Kelly shook her head again, backing away from the other woman.

“We’re going to meet up with your nosy cop friend in the master bedroom. We have some questions to ask you.”

We? Kelly didn’t understand what was happening. Every word that fell from Margo’s lips sent her into a deeper state of confusion. The woman was insane. Kelly’s faith in her own instincts withered. She had trusted Margo, had taken her neighbor into her confidence.

An epiphany hit Kelly like a brick to the head. Margo couldn’t have done everything on her own. She had to have had help. A partner perhaps. Kelly’s mind began formulating a long list of people who could be working with Margo. The last name she came up with was Michael.

Kelly didn’t want to believe Michael was involved in trying to drive her crazy, but she had caught him in a lie al
ready. He had gone to a lot of trouble to cover up his brother’s murder. If that part of the story was true.

Did Jimmy even exist?

It was possible there was no Jimmy, and Michael had set the whole thing into motion. He could be after the mythical diamonds.

No, Michael was an honest man thrust into a position that left him with no choice but to lie. It wasn’t his fault. Since she’d uncovered his true identity he hadn’t lied to her. She was sure of it. The truth sparkled in his eyes whenever he spoke to her. His feelings for her were real. She would bet her life on it. She trusted Michael.

He was the only one who had lied to her in an effort to help her.

“What do you hope to gain by this, Margo? Do you want me to sign the house over to you?”

“Do you think I’m stupid or just crazy?” Margo chuckled. “I gave up on getting my house back. I just want the jewels now. They belonged to my father, and now they’re mine.”

“Take them,” Kelly said in desperation. “I don’t care. Take whatever you want. Just please leave me and Michael alone.”

“Your darling Michael is waiting for us. We’d better hurry before my partner gets an itchy trigger finger.”

Knowing Michael was in danger spurred Kelly to action. She hurried from the attic and down the hallway to the master bedroom. Margo was on her heels, keeping up a good pace for such an elderly woman. Kelly was still having trouble believing she was behind all the awful things that had transpired.

Angry curses filtered out of the bedroom’s open door. There were grunts of pain and sharp bumps. Glass shattered. Margo grasped Kelly’s hair and yanked her backward, hold
ing her close. The muzzle of the gun pressed against Kelly’s temple.

“Don’t get any ideas,” Margo warned. The woman took a deep breath and shouted, “Whatever you’re doing in there, you’d better stop! I have the girl. I’ll shoot her if you don’t stop fighting the inevitable, Mr. Taggert.”