What's in a Name? (21 page)

His eyes were narrow slits of dark
chocolate.

“
Fine.” She sprang off
the bed and started opening drawers, stuffing her things into her
suitcase and gym bag, then went into the bathroom to pack her
personal things. Without caring how childish it was, she slammed
the door behind her. So, he’d held his own with the cop. What the
hell did he know about making sure nobody found them?

Twenty minutes later, two floors up and
in another wing of the hotel, they unpacked essentials into their
new suite. She itched to get at the computer, but she made a point
of arranging her toiletries just so and folding her clothes neatly
before putting them in the drawers. She finished and went to the
living area and found Blake standing at the bar. Hands on her hips,
she blinked at him in feigned contrition. “Is it all right with you
if I work on the computer a while? I’d like to establish Bill’s
cover a little more firmly.”

Blake poured a whisky. “Suit
yourself.”

She logged onto EnviroCon’s database
and worked through the files. “I think Kelli’s going to be on an
assignment in—” She swiveled to face Blake. “Where? Got any
ideas?”

“
Antarctica. Nobody’d
look for her there.” His voice oozed sarcasm. “I think I’ve reached
my limit. When I think I’ve finally done something right, you find
something I’ve screwed up—like those fingerprints. I want to know
what’s going on. I’m tired of pretending to be someone else,
running, hiding, playing games with cops, worried one minute,
scared shitless the next. I used to think it was a rush when I got
some schnook to sign a contract for Hollingsworth. I’ve pumped more
adrenaline this week than I have in the last ten years of my life.
Hell, maybe twenty.”

He gulped down what was left in his
glass. “I’ll be in the Executive Lounge.”

Confused, she watched him storm from
the room. Blake had assured her Gunther accepted their story.
Scumbag was in custody. Things were starting to turn around. Why
had he stomped off like that? An hour ago, he’d been compassionate
and concerned for her welfare. Tucked her into bed and faced
Gunther alone, strong enough to keep an unfamiliar cover story
intact. A few computer tweaks on her part and they should be in the
clear and she could get back to trying to find out how her cover
had been blown.

She shrugged. Maybe getting plastered
was his way of coping with the letdown of the adrenaline leaving
his system.

She’d worry about that later. First,
she needed to send Kelli somewhere. Antarctica was a little bit
over the top, but she gave Kelli Carpenter an assignment in the
remote wetlands of Louisiana. She was pleased to see Stockbridge
had Bill well established as a potential consultant for the Oregon
jobs. Thankfully, there was no conflicting sign of his real
Caribbean vacation—she was sure Stockbridge would fix it with
payroll later.

Stockbridge. Although she hadn’t heard
what Gunther said, Blake’s response had carried well into the
bedroom. Scumbag had used a knife on him, too. She needed to put
that all out of her mind. She couldn’t undo it and Scumbag was in
jail.

Unable to relax, she eyed the door and
contemplated joining Blake. No. They’d been in close quarters too
long. Maybe he was turning into the Blake Windsor she’d never
really met. First he’d played a handyman role at Camp Getaway, then
he’d been injured and dependent. Maybe now she was seeing the man’s
real personality. A corporate negotiator used to getting his own
way. Demanding his own way. Once she figured out who was after her,
they could resume their own lives.

She called the hospital. Jack was
stable, but they wouldn’t ring his room after visiting hours. For
distraction, she turned to her laptop and started shooting Snoods.
Two hours later, when Blake hadn’t returned, she climbed into bed.
Tomorrow, her head would be clear and she’d see if she could find
more to connect Scumbag to Robert, Thornton, or Hollingsworth.

Awakened by the door opening, Kelli
glanced at the clock. One-thirty. She waited, but Blake didn’t join
her. After sounds of shuffling and water running, the crack of
light under the door disappeared.

Memories of the kiss in the park welled
up and she tamped them down. Blake had walked away then, too. She
pounded her pillow into a more comfortable shape and closed her
eyes. The image of his face when he’d found her on the stairwell
refused to leave, as if imprinted on the inside of her eyelids.

* * * * *

Blake knocked on the bedroom door the
next morning. Despite what Kelli must have thought, he’d done a lot
of thinking and very little drinking. He’d left her because what he
wanted didn’t seem to match what she wanted, and there was no way
he could have spent the night in her company. He hated the need she
created in him. When she didn’t answer, he knocked louder. No way
she’d left the room without his knowing. He’d dozed more than
slept.

“
Kelli?” He put his
ear to the door. Silence.

Then, finally, a mumbled, “Goway.”

“
We need to talk.” He
waited out another long silence.

“
I need to shower.”
Hoarse with sleep, her voice lacked any emotion. “There better be
coffee out there when I’m done.”

He took the stairs to the Executive
Lounge, poured two cups of coffee to go and filled a plate with
fresh fruit from the buffet table.

“
I can get you a
tray,” the attendant said. “You can leave it outside your
door.”

Blake thanked him and added a bagel and
a couple of muffins. When he got back, Kelli was still in the
bedroom. He set the food on the conference table, took his coffee
and a muffin to the couch and turned on the television, trying to
find a local news broadcast. Surely the arrest of a wanted felon
would warrant some coverage.

When Kelli wandered out, wearing the
hotel robe and towel drying her hair, she made a beeline for the
coffee. She looked as if she’d slept less than he had, yet she
still sent a catch to his chest. He busied himself with his muffin,
the coffee, and the remote. After she worked at the coffee, some of
the tension seemed to leave her shoulders. She nibbled on a
strawberry and paced the room.

When he judged she’d drunk at least
half her coffee, he took a deep breath and spoke. “I have to get
back to Chicago.”

She froze mid-step. Did a slow pivot.
He could feel her gaze, like two green lasers shooting through him.
“Like hell you do.”

“
I have a job. My time
at Camp Getaway was up yesterday and Hollingsworth is expecting me
back.” At least he hoped so.

“
So, tell him you’re
delayed.” Her chin was lifted, her jaw clenched. She set the coffee
down and jammed her hands into the pockets of the robe and resumed
pacing.

He stepped in front of her. “Will you
listen? Let me finish and then we can decide?” He hoped the we
would calm her.

“
Talk.”

“
I thought this
through most of the night. Hollingsworth sent me on a simple
expedition—find out if Kelli Carpenter and Casey Wallace are the
same person. But he did it very hush-hush. You said the information
he gave me was rank amateur, so he probably did it himself. I don’t
think he wanted anyone to know he was looking. Hollingsworth
doesn’t do much himself anymore—he makes decisions, but lets his
underlings carry out the work.”

“
One of those
underlings being you,” she muttered.

He ignored the implication and nodded.
“First, I thought I’d call him and say you weren’t Casey and that
would be that. But Scumbag kind of complicated things. If
Hollingsworth, for whatever reason, is behind Scumbag there’s a
good chance Hollingsworth thinks he succeeded in getting rid of
you.” He stopped and said what they’d both been wondering. “And me.
After all, I haven’t checked in.”

Kelli stopped pacing and sat in a chair
across from him. “I’m still not clear here.” She took another
strawberry, drank some more coffee. “Let’s go over it again.
Hollingsworth sends you, says you’re just supposed to look. Then
why would he send someone to do me bodily harm?”

“
I thought about that.
What if, after I left, he got whatever evidence he needed from
somewhere else and decided to finish the job?”

“
While you were still
there? Why not wait for you to get back with your report, then send
someone? If he knew about the project, he’d know I’d be there for a
while longer. Doesn’t it make more sense that someone else sent
Scumbag?”

“
I’d like to think
that.”

“
But you
don’t?”

“
How can I? The creep
attacked me, too. Hard as it is to believe, much as I don’t want to
believe it, there’s the possibility Hollingsworth decided I
shouldn’t come back.”

“
That makes no sense.”
She looked pensive for a moment. “Besides, didn’t you say
Hollingsworth didn’t do stuff like hire hit men?”

“
I did. But even
though I hate to admit it, I could be wrong. I work for him, but I
don’t deal with him on a personal level very much anymore. I didn’t
even see him face-to-face for this job—I was in Seattle and he
emailed me the information.”

“
You didn’t ask why he
wanted me?”

“
Not my place.” She
glared at him. “Don’t look at me like that. He gave me a simple
job. To be honest, I figured you were probably a long-lost love
child and he either wanted to pay you off to keep things quiet, or
do a big reunion thing. That one would make a great publicity move
with his gubernatorial bid.”

Kelli squeezed the bridge of her nose.
“Tell me why you can’t call him and say he’s got the wrong
person.”

“
If he thinks I’m
dead, if he had anything to do with Scumbag, I want to march into
his office and read it on his face.” He got up and crouched in
front of Kelli. Relieved when she didn’t back off, he grasped her
hand. “I read people for a living.” Everyone but her. “I can read
him—but not over the phone. Plus, if there’s anything hinky going
on, I don’t want him sending anyone else.”

“
There are holes in
there somewhere.”

“
Sweetheart,
everything we’ve done has been Swiss cheese. Why don’t you get
dressed and think about it? If you can come up with another plan, I
promise to listen.”

“
Give me a little
computer time. If Hollingsworth hooked me to Robert, I need to know
how he connects.” She flashed a wry grin. “Maybe Robert was his
love child and he wants vengeance.”

“
Speaking of Robert,
what have you found out? Anything new?”

She shook her head and broke her gaze.
Her expression changed. Shame? Embarrassment? There was more.

He pressed. “What happened after he …
died? You must have followed the reports.”

“
No.” Barely
whispered.

He laughed. “Oh, don’t tell me the
computer queen couldn’t find out what the police—even the Mexican
police—made of a dead body in the middle of nowhere.”

“
I never
looked.”

“
What?” He thought he
was used to surprises by now, but this one floored him. “Why not?”
And then he saw the tears glistening on her lashes and he felt like
he’d been stabbed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to joke about it. I
thought—the way you’ve been digging at everything else—you’d have
been on top of that one.”

She pushed up from the chair, nearly
knocking him over. “Well, I wasn’t. I’d just killed a man with my
own hands. I didn’t exactly want to think about it. Ever.”

She crossed the room and leaned her
hands on the desk, talking to its polished wooden surface. “I’d
killed a man and no matter how many times I told myself I had no
choice, the pain wouldn’t go away. I told you, I ran. Stopped being
Karen Abbott. Took over Kelli Carpenter’s identity.”

When he touched her shoulder, she
tensed, but let his fingers stay. He felt her take a long, deep
breath. Then another. Four. Five. He waited.

She went on. “Until that night in the
motel with you, I don’t think I spoke his name. Not when I was
awake, anyway. I can’t even type his name into the computer without
a major panic attack.”

He turned her around to face him. Ran
his finger down her nose. “Do you think you could do it now? Since
I already know, maybe it won’t be so hard. I’ll be right with you.
Or you could tell me what to do and I’ll do the typing.”

“
Maybe.” When she
looked at him, he saw trust, not anger or fear.

Her eyes closed and she tilted her head
up a fraction. The phone on the desk rang and Blake’s heart jumped
another notch.

“
Go ahead. Answer it.
Bill.”

Once again, she’d cloaked her
vulnerability with her strength, disappearing into Emily. Bill.
Right. Back in character. “Hello?” he said.

“
Mr. Cranford, there’s
a package at the front desk. Would you like me to send someone
up?”

And who might be carrying that package?
“What kind of package?”

“
FedEx. I can have a
bellman deliver it.”

“
Umm … no, no that’s
not necessary. I’ll be down shortly.”

“
FedEx,” he said to
Kelli. “I’ll go. Are we expecting anything?”

“
Our temporary Florida
driver’s licenses. Maybe that’s a sign we should go to Chicago.
I’ll see about scoring some plane reservations.”

“
You’re ahead of me
again. Driver’s license? You just said we were flying.”

When she gave him The Shake, he didn’t
mention it. Instead, he tried not to hug her.