Double Identity. Diane Burke
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to go home and look through anything and everything you own for a name, an address, a picture. Anything you think might give me a place to start looking. You find something and we’ll talk again.”
“Thanks.” She scribbled her address on a scrap of paper she pulled from her tote bag and handed it to him.
“Wait a minute,” he called as she crossed the room.
Sophie turned and paused in the doorway.
“At least let me take you to Holly’s for a welcome-to-Promise lunch.”
Yeah, that’s professional. That’s keeping your distance. Invite the client to lunch because she looks at you with lost puppy dog eyes. Are you crazy?
“Taking a client to lunch counts as a business deduction on my taxes. So, believe it or not, you’ll actually be helping me out.” The words tumbled from his mouth even though his brain kept screaming, Idiot! Let somebody else feel sorry for her.
“Just let me know what day is good for you,” he continued. “My sister makes the best apple pie you’ve ever tasted.”
Sophie smiled and when she did it lit up the room. “Sure. I’ll see you around.”
Cain crossed to the window and watched as Sophie exited the building. She stopped to help elderly Mrs. Gleason, whose grocery bag had split open. Sophie was chasing oranges along the sidewalk when a movement out of the corner of Cain’s eye caught his attention. A man stood in the shadows of the alley a block up the street. From this distance, Cain could only see the man’s silhouette and the tip of a lit cigarette but something about his stealth caught and held his attention. As soon as the man spotted Sophie, he threw his cigarette to the ground and hopped into a car parked beside him.
Cain glanced back to Sophie. Her hair blew across her mouth and she laughingly wiped it away as she handed the last of the runaway oranges to Mrs. Gleason. With a smile and a wave, Sophie turned to step into the street.
The car barreled out of the alley.
“Sophie!” Cain banged on the glass to get her attention but she was already stepping into the street.
The car accelerated.
Lord, help me, please.
Cain raced for the door.
TWO
A freight train slammed into Sophie’s back. At least it felt like it, as an unexpected force knocked her off her feet and propelled her forward into midair. As she stretched out her hands to break her fall, she felt two arms wrap around her middle, spin her around, and then someone slid beneath her, cushioning her slide across the asphalt.
When the momentum stopped, Sophie found herself staring up at the clouds and wondering what had just happened. Before she could move a muscle, the ground beneath her shifted, someone clasped her waist, lifted her and then gently lowered her so that she was lying on the street.
“Sophie, don’t move. Are you hurt? Is anything broken?”
She shielded her eyes against the sun with her hand and tried to identify the hulking form leaning over her.
“Cain?” She shifted her weight and a groan escaped her lips when she tried to sit up.
A crowd began gathering around them.
“Cain, are you okay?” A man, older but strikingly similar in appearance to Cain, placed a hand on Cain’s shoulder. “I called it in. Help should be here in a minute.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
Mrs. Gleason, the woman Sophie had helped with her groceries, stood beside them wringing her hands and saying, “I can’t believe it. I saw the whole thing. That car missed you by inches. You could have been killed.”
“Car?” Sophie tried again to sit up.
“No. Don’t move until the ambulance gets here,” Cain said.
“Ambulance?” She glanced at the faces looming over her and then pushed Cain’s hand away and sat up. “No. Please. I don’t need an ambulance.”
When he saw she was determined to stand, he helped her to her feet.
“What happened?” she asked.
“A black car tried to run you down, that’s what happened.” The elderly woman raised her voice so the bystanders could hear. “This young man ran out of that building and pushed you out of the way. I saw the whole thing.”
A smile tugged at the corner of Sophie’s mouth as the older woman recounted the incident—and Sophie was sure Mrs. Gleason would tell it again and again before the day was through.
Sophie’s legs trembled, rebelling at the idea of supporting her weight, and she leaned heavily against Cain as they made their way through the crowd to the curb.
“A car tried to run me down?” she asked, looking up at Cain. “What car?”
“It was a big, black car.” Mrs. Gleason patted Sophie’s arm as she accompanied them to the sidewalk. “The driver came shooting out of the alley by the pharmacy. He must have lost control or something because he headed right for you.” She picked up her grocery bags from the sidewalk. “The whole thing scared five years off this old ticker of mine.”
Sophie’s head pounded and her right forearm burned from road rash. Otherwise, she hadn’t sustained any injuries. With effort, she smiled at the older woman. “I’m so sorry I scared you. But I’m fine. Really.”
The air hummed with spectator whispers. An ambulance and a police car, approaching from opposite directions, slid up to the curb.
Cain’s breath fanned the back of Sophie’s neck and his arm cradled her shoulders, lending his support as they stood together on the sidewalk. The sheriff reached them first.
Sheriff Dalton nodded at Cain and doffed his hat at Sophie. “Ma’am, can you tell me what happened here?”
“I can tell you, Sheriff. I saw the whole thing.” Mrs. Gleason waved her hand excitedly.
“I appreciate that, Mrs. Gleason,” the sheriff replied, gently steering the woman and her bag of groceries down the street. “Why don’t you go over to the office and be the first one to tell Sally all about it. I’ll be over shortly and take your formal statement.”
Mrs. Gleason didn’t have to be asked twice. Shoulders tossed back and strutting with an air of self-importance, she hurried down the street.
The paramedics approached and made a cursory exam of both Cain and Sophie.
“We’re fine,” Cain said. “A few bumps and skin tears but nothing some peroxide and a bandage or two won’t cure.”
“Okay,” said Mr. Garrison. “Let’s get you both inside and I’ll have the two of you fixed up in no time.”
Thanking the paramedics before dismissing them, Cain and Sophie followed Mr. Garrison inside Cain’s office. Sheriff Dalton trailed close behind. Sophie allowed herself to wallow in the warmth of Cain’s body as he ushered her inside the building. She couldn’t be sure if it was the adrenaline rush from the near hit-and-run or the unexpected nearness of Cain Garrison that caused her stomach to flip-flop and her pulse to race.
Within seconds she was seated in the same leather chair she had left only minutes before.
Cain handed her a bottle of water.
She took a long gulp and welcomed the cold liquid as it slid down her dry throat.
Cain pulled a chair over to face her and leaned his forearms on his thighs. His worried expression creased deep lines near his mouth and at the corners of his eyes.
Mr. Garrison opened a first aid kit and took out a bottle of hydrogen peroxide, tape, gauze and a few smaller bandages.
Sheriff Dalton flipped his notepad open. “So