Borrowed Identity. Kasi Blake

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left her on her bed after asking if she wanted anything from the kitchen. She felt bereft, abandoned without those strong arms around her. Part of her wanted to ask him to stay, but she wasn’t going to be a clingy female. If he wanted to stay, he would.

      She told him she just needed a bit of rest. The drug would clear out of her system and she would be able to focus once more. She longed to feel normal again. The woolly, disassociated sensation that dragged at her body soon would be a thing of the past. A little sleep and she would be fine.

      When he’d left the room she groaned, realizing she needed to use the bathroom. Kelly struggled out of bed. She’d managed to take two steps when her bare foot landed on a hard, tiny, pebble-like object. It hurt.

      She moved her foot and stared down, trying to find the offending item. She had bent over when a small white bead caught her eye. She picked it up and studied it. It appeared to be a small pearl. But where had it come from?

      The answer floated up from the depths of her subconscious, an unwanted epiphany. She tried to deny it access, but her mind opened, spilling a recent memory. Her wedding gown had been covered with tiny pearls.

      But the wedding dress had been part of a dream.

      She knelt down on the floor. Sweeping her hands over it with long, desperate movements. She managed to find three more tiny pearls.

      Kelly scowled at the white beads in her hand. If her wedding was a dream, then where had the pearls come from? If it hadn’t been a dream, why was Michael lying to her?

      Chapter Three

      The next morning, after pulling on faded jeans and a pink angora sweater, Kelly reluctantly went downstairs. Before leaving the sanctuary of her bedroom she placed the tiny pearls in a trinket box on top of her dresser. Asking Michael about them wouldn’t do her any good if he was lying to her. She had to find a way to trick him into admitting the truth.

      Kelly stood in the foyer and wondered about Michael. Where was he? A small part of her hoped he had left the house and her behind. But she knew if he was gone, she would miss him horribly. Her feelings for him were muddled, melding together in terrible confusion. Did she love him or didn’t she?

      It would be nice if she made up her mind before the wedding, she thought derisively.

      She was tired, having spent the night tossing and turning, afraid to sleep for fear of nightmares. Several times she had heard strange noises in the walls. Most nights the sounds didn’t bother her. They were to be expected in a place as old as Moore House. But last night, layered on top of her fears, every strange sound vibrated through her entire being, chilling her to the marrow.

      Several times during the night she had almost gone running to Michael’s bedroom, like a little child hoping to crawl into bed with her parents after a particularly bad nightmare.

      Somehow she’d held her ground. She was an adult, not a child. She could handle a few bumps in the night on her own.

      Michael stepped into the foyer, startling her. He stopped next to her, so close his proximity made her nervous. But he appeared to be going somewhere. He was wearing his denim jacket and his feet were encased in work boots. A set of keys was dangling from his hand. Good fortune was smiling on Kelly now. Maybe he would stay away. She was supposed to marry the man in a month. How could she? Being in the same room with him made her feel like a nervous cat in a dog pound.

      “Leaving?” she asked, a thread of hope in her voice.

      “I’m going into town for supplies. Is there anything you need?”

      Privacy, she wanted to reply. Her uneasiness grew. She wanted him to leave, but at the same time she knew she would race after him if he did. She had too much invested in him to call off the wedding now.

      “I don’t need anything,” she said with a sigh.

      “Are you sure?” His piercing brown eyes stared straight at her, through her, as if he was trying to read her mind. “The forecast is for snow. I heard it on the radio early this morning. I don’t know how reliable the weathermen are in these parts, but I think we should be cautious. If we get as many inches as they’re predicting, we’ll be trapped inside for a while.”

      She shivered. His last words echoed in her mind. She didn’t want to be trapped in Moore House with him. There were more than forty rooms, yet the place felt far too small for the two of them.

      “I…” She turned away, unable to look into those bottomless eyes and think at the same time. “I guess we need staples. Get food that won’t need refrigeration in case the electricity goes out. Canned goods. Dried milk. The usual.”

      His hand settled on her shoulder as if he sensed her need to put distance between them. She froze beneath the gentle pressure. Her breathing quickened. Why couldn’t he leave her alone?

      “I’ll get a flashlight and some batteries, too, just in case.”

      “Why?” Her eyes narrowed, and she spun around to face him. “We have three flashlights and you just bought batteries last week.”

      “Well,” he said with a shrug, “you can never have enough batteries.”

      She watched him walk across the foyer to the front door, and she thought about the changes in him. He was hiding something from her. She could feel deceit in his every word. She opened her mouth to mention the pearls she’d found. The accusation soured her tongue, filling her with bitterness.

      He stopped at the door and smiled wryly at her. “Will you be okay here by yourself while I’m away?”

      “Fine,” she said. “Don’t hurry back on my account.”

      Then he was gone. The door shut softly behind him. She regretted not having the courage to confront him with her suspicions. Either she was losing her mind or he was lying to her, setting her up for a fall.

      Kelly grabbed the phone and brought it to her ear. She wanted to call her only close neighbor, Margo Lane, and warn her about the coming storm. The elderly woman had a hard time getting around. She didn’t have her own car, but relied on family and friends for transportation. She would need supplies, too.

      Kelly remembered selling the guest house to Margo as one of the smartest things she’d done. At first she’d wanted an elderly couple to buy the place. She hadn’t needed the money of course; she’d made that clear to the Realtor. She was willing to take a financial loss as long as she liked the people, feeling lonely after the loss of her father. Margo had fallen in love with the little house on sight and begged Kelly to sell it to her. Margo had family, but they didn’t spend much time with her. Kelly remembered Margo’s last remark to her that day, the reason she’d told the Realtor to let Margo have the house. “You and I, we’ll look after each other.”

      And they did.

      The phone line was dead.

      Kelly slowly set the receiver down. Her eyes went to the front door. Margo lived in a small bungalow down the road from Moore House. Kelly considered walking there. The place had been part of the Moore estate at one time, a guest house for visiting relatives and friends.

      John Moore had bought five hundred acres and then instructed the builders to erect the mansion. It was followed by the guest house, barracks

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