Shattered Identity Page 18

  She tried to lift her hand to scratch at his face, but her arms hung limply next to her now-relaxed body. A dizziness overwhelmed her, and she fought the sleep that was overtaking her. The more she fought, the faster she drifted toward unconsciousness.

  Her head rested against Travis’s chest, and she could feel the beating of his heart. Her last conscious thought was of Scott and how she would never see him again.

  SIXTEEN

  Lisa’s eyes blinked open, and she frowned. Her head pounded, and she lifted rubbery arms to press her temples. Nausea roiled in her stomach, and she tried to focus her vision.

  “Are you awake?”

  The question startled her and she glanced at Travis, who sat next to her. She tried to straighten but couldn’t. A tight seat belt held her in place. She turned her head to stare out the window of the car as it jerked to a halt. Fear turned her blood cold. Travis had pulled to a stop down the street from the island lighthouse.

  She reached for the door handle, but he caught her arm. “We’re going to have to sneak past the lighthouse keeper’s house, and you have to be quiet. This ought to do it.”

  Unable to fight him, she closed her eyes and waited as he tied a gag around her mouth. He climbed from the car and pulled her out after him. She tried to raise a fist to strike at him, but couldn’t. Her body swayed back and forth in front of him. She had to get away, find help.

  She turned to run, but only took two steps before her legs gave way, and she stumbled to her knees. Travis knelt beside her. “It’s no use.”

  The muzzle of a gun rubbed up the side of her face. “Try that again, and I’ll finish you right here. Do you understand?”

  She nodded.

  He pulled her to her feet, forced her back toward the car, and pulled her purse from inside. He hung the bag from her shoulder, stuck the gun in her back and whispered in her ear. “Now, don’t make a sound when we pass the keeper’s house.”

  He pushed her onto the walkway that led to the entrance to the lighthouse. She glanced up at the structure that had withstood the hurricanes on Ocracoke since 1823. Its light beamed against the darkness from seventy-five feet up. High above, the widow’s walk circled the area around the lens room. She thought of her mother and wondered what she had felt facing Travis that night twenty-five years ago at that height. A tear ran down her face.

  Travis nudged her along the path through the darkness, past the keeper’s house and the small building where maintenance supplies were housed, and to the entrance of the lighthouse. He positioned her between his body and the door and pulled a set of keys from his pocket. He held them up and laughed. “Compliments of Jeff. I think they’ll find these as well as this gun next to your body. One more tragedy to add to your mental state. You must have taken his keys after you killed him.”

  The door swung open, and Lisa’s legs collapsed once more. Her purse slipped from her shoulder and hit the ground. He grabbed her around the waist and forced her inside. Lisa glanced over her shoulder at her purse outside the door as he closed them inside the entrance.

  She blinked in the darkened entry. Her eyes slowly focused, and she spied a metal staircase winding up toward the top of the lighthouse. Travis jerked the gag from her mouth and stuffed the cloth in his pocket. “You can scream all you want now. These walls are five feet thick, and no one’s going to hear you.” He glanced up at the staircase. “We have quite a climb. I know you aren’t up to it, but I’ll help you.” He grabbed her arm and stuck the gun in her back. “Now, let’s go.”

  “Travis, you don’t have to do this. I don’t want any of your money.”

  “That’s what you say now, but you’d change your mind,” he sneered.

  “No, I won’t. Please think about what you’re doing. I’m your sister.”

  He leaned forward until they were face-to-face. “That’s why I have to do this. Now, move.”

  Lisa swallowed back her fear and turned around. Before she could take a step, she thought of the time she’d spent in the church earlier. She had left there knowing whatever happened she wasn’t alone. Now that knowledge filled her with peace. Whatever happened, she wasn’t climbing toward the widow’s walk alone.

  She looked up at the stairs that wound upward, and dizziness overcame her. There was no way she could do this on her own. She needed strength from somewhere else.

  I need You, God. Help me.

  Scott tried to concentrate on the movie Emma had picked out for them to watch, but it was no use. He couldn’t shake the restless feeling he’d had ever since arriving home. Beside him Emma laughed out loud. Betsy stuck a kernel of popcorn in her mouth and smiled at their little sister, who had seen this film at least five times.

  Betsy pushed to her feet and headed toward the kitchen. “The coffee should be ready. Want a cup, Scott?”

  “Yes, please.”

  He watched his sister leave and glanced back at Emma, who appeared oblivious to his presence. “Tell Betsy I’m on the porch, will you?”

  Emma frowned at him. “You’re leaving? This is the best part.”

  He sighed. “I know. I thought so the first three times I saw it. I’ll be outside.”

  Without waiting for an answer, he strode through the front door and onto the porch. He walked to the railing and leaned against it. What was the matter with him? He raked his hand through his hair and took a deep breath. Something wasn’t right, but he didn’t know what it was.

  The front door opened and Betsy, holding two cups of coffee, stepped onto the porch. “Emma said you were out here. What’s the matter? You couldn’t listen to those chipmunks sing another minute?”

  He laughed and reached for the cup she held out to him. “I’m restless. I don’t know what’s caused it, but I can’t sit still. It’s the same kind of feeling I used to get when I knew there was a dangerous mission coming up.”

  Betsy frowned. “That’s strange. Did anything happen at work today that might have triggered this?”

  He shook his head. “Nothing I can think of. Maybe I’m just tired.”

  She sat down in one of the wicker chairs and took a sip from her cup. “You haven’t told me how things worked out with you and Lisa. Did she accept your apology?”

  “I guess so.”

  Betsy sat up straight, the movement jarring her cup. “What do you mean by that?”

  He shook his head. “It’s complicated. She’s not interested in me after all. It seems Travis Fleming has become her good friend. In fact, they’re out together tonight.”

  Betsy’s eyebrows arched, and she rose to her feet. “Oh, so that’s why you’re restless. You’re jealous.”

  His face warmed, and he took another sip of coffee to give him time to think of a reply. “No. I want her to be happy. It’s just…I don’t see her with Travis Fleming. He’s so much older than she is.”

  Betsy laughed. “I think that sounds like you’re jealous. Where did they go?”

  “I don’t know. I started to check my GPS, but I don’t want her to think I’m checking up on her when she’s out on a date.”

  “GPS? I don’t understand.”

  “It was Brock’s idea.” She listened as he told her about the app they had downloaded on their cell phones earlier today. “It’s to make sure she’s safe.”

  Betsy inched closer, a mischievous grin on her face. “Don’t you need to know if she’s safe now?”

  He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and stared at it for a moment before he shook his head. “No, I can’t do that.”

  Betsy’s eyes softened. “You’re a very special person, Scott. Most men would be so eaten up with jealousy they’d track her every step.”

  “Yeah, well, most men don’t have a lot of unanswered questions about whether or not they even deserve to have a relatio
nship with a woman.”

  Betsy shook her head. “You’ve got to stop thinking like that.”

  Before he could respond, his cell phone chimed, and he glanced down at the caller ID before he connected the call. “Hi, Brock, what’s up?”

  “I’m tied up with a head-on collision between the village and the Hatteras ferry. I’ll probably be here for some time. But I was wondering if you had talked with Lisa.”

  “No. Why?”

  “I checked the GPS on my cell phone just now, and it seemed strange. I thought she might be with you.”

  “No. Where was she?”

  “It showed her position at the island lighthouse. Kate has told me how Lisa never goes there, but that’s where it shows she is.”

  “The island lighthouse? Are you sure?” Scott gripped the railing of the porch.

  “That’s what it says.”

  A tremor went through Scott’s body, and he whirled to face Betsy. “Something’s wrong, Brock. Lisa would never go there. Never. She told me she drives out of her way to keep from going by there.”

  “I think we’d better check this out,” Brock said. “I can’t leave here. Can you go see what’s going on?”

  Scott rushed into the house and ran toward his bedroom. “I’m on my way.”

  “Call me when you know anything.”

  “Will do.”

  He disconnected the call, grabbed his holster and buckled it around his waist. He turned to see a shocked Betsy in the doorway. “What’s the matter, Scott?”

  “I don’t know. I’m afraid Lisa’s in trouble. If something happens to her, I’ll never forgive myself.”

  He ran from the house and within moments was speeding toward the island lighthouse. The clock on the dash clicked off the minutes as he urged the car to move faster. He should have listened to his gut feeling that something wasn’t right and checked on Lisa’s whereabouts.

  When he turned the corner to the lighthouse, he frowned at the sight of a car parked by the roadside. He’d seen Travis Fleming driving an SUV like it. For a second his belief that Lisa was in trouble wavered. He would feel foolish if he found Lisa and Travis out for a moonlight stroll around the base of the lighthouse.

  He shook his head. Lisa wouldn’t go for a walk at the place where her mother died. He skidded to a stop in the lighthouse parking lot and was out of the car almost before it came to a stop. As he ran toward the tower, he scanned the area but saw no one. The only sound he heard was a dog barking a few streets over.

  Something on the ground at the front door of the lighthouse caught his attention, and he came to a stop. He stooped down, picked up Lisa’s purse and looked inside. Her cell phone stuck out of a side pouch. His muscles tensed as they had every time he’d entered battle, and he knew he was right. Lisa was in trouble and needed help.

  He pulled his gun from the holster and pushed on the door. A creaking noise echoed through the interior as the door swung open. With both hands on the gun, he stepped into the entrance and scanned the small area that housed a metal staircase that wound upward.

  “Lisa, it’s Scott!” His voice bounced off the walls. “Where are you?” A noise from above like a footstep on metal caught his attention, and he eased onto the steps. “Lisa! Can you hear me?”

  “Scott, up here.” The muffled voice from above turned his blood cold.

  Ready to fire his weapon, Scott charged up the steps. As he ascended the second curve of the darkened steps, he spotted them. He could make out the form of Travis Fleming leering down at him from the steps above. He held Lisa in front of him with a gun pointed at her head.

  “That’s far enough, Deputy. Come any closer, and I’ll kill her.”

  Scott halted but didn’t lower his gun. “Let her go, Fleming.”

  A laugh rang out from where they stood. “If you want her, you’re going to have to come and get her.”

  “Scott,” Lisa cried out, “be careful. He’ll kill you. He’s already killed so many, one more won’t make a difference.”

  “That’s right, Deputy. You’d better listen to her. Throw down your gun and come on up.”

  Scott hesitated, unsure of what to do. He wouldn’t give up his gun to save his own life, but Lisa’s life was different. Should he drop the gun on the chance he could save her? He knew the answer. Without his gun they would both be dead.

  A cry rang out from above, and he saw movement. He squinted in the darkness and realized Lisa was striking at Travis’s face. Scott bolted upward and was only a few steps away when Travis cracked his gun across Lisa’s face, aimed the barrel at Scott and fired.

  “Scott!”

  He heard Lisa’s scream of agony at the same time the bullet pierced his body. He grabbed for the railing but couldn’t catch hold. With a groan he tumbled backward down the steps until he landed on the concrete floor at the bottom. He lay there panting for breath.

  Travis Fleming’s voice cut through the silence. “Your boyfriend can’t help you now. Get up those steps.”

  Muffled sobs drifted down the staircase.

  Pain radiated through Scott’s body. His hand brushed the front of his shirt, which was sticky with his own blood. He could feel it trickling down his side and knew with every heartbeat his life was pumping out onto the lighthouse floor.

  He had to get to Lisa. The memory of how he’d tried to get to the wounded in battle and failed replayed in his mind. This couldn’t end like that. He couldn’t fail her as he had so many others.

  The picture of a lamb, dead from a roadside bomb, flashed in his mind. That lamb had given his life to save him. Jesus had given His life, too, not only for him but for Lisa. Now it was time for him to offer his life as a sacrifice for the woman he loved.

  Praying for strength, he pushed up on his knees and felt around in the darkness for his gun. His fingers touched the barrel, and he scooped up the weapon. Pain ripped his body, but he struggled to his feet and headed for the stairs. He groaned as he mounted the first step.

  He clenched his jaw against the excruciating pressure in his side with each step and began the long climb. He could see no one on the stairs as he ascended, and he pushed his body onward. The stairs ended at a metal ladder that led through an opening into the lens room. He shoved his gun in the holster and gripped the bottom rung with the arm opposite his wound.

  Biting down on his lip to keep from screaming out, he hauled himself up the ladder rung by rung until he emerged at the base of the lens. He shaded his eyes from the bright light and stumbled toward the door leading to the widow’s walk.

  “No, Travis, don’t do this.” Lisa’s voice sent a new surge of energy through him.

  He drew his gun and tottered onto the small walkway around the top of the lighthouse. To his left he spotted Lisa struggling with Travis. He had his arms around her waist and was trying to lift her, but she had her legs braced against the railing and her fingers clamped around the top bar. Travis’s gun wasn’t in his hand.

  “Fleming! Get away from her!”

  Travis let go and whirled to face Scott. Surprise mingled with hatred on his face. “I thought I’d killed you.”

  “Not quite.” Scott cocked the gun. “Now get away from her before I forget I’m a police officer.” Travis looked back at Lisa before he released her. Scott motioned toward the wall of the lighthouse with his gun. “Now raise your hands and get over there away from her.”

  Travis raised his hands and backed toward the wall. Keeping his gun leveled at Travis, Scott stumbled toward Lisa until he stood between her and Travis. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes,” she whispered. “Oh, Scott, he killed my mother and Jeff, and I thought you were dead.”

  “I’m okay. Are you sure he didn’t hurt you?”

  “He gave me a sedative,
but I think it’s wearing off. My cheek hurts where he hit me with his gun. I was so scared until you showed up.”

  Scott turned his attention back to Travis. “Where’s your gun?”

  Travis nodded with his head toward where Lisa stood. “I laid it over there.”

  Scott glanced over his shoulder to the spot Travis indicated. “Where?”

  “Scott! Look out!” Lisa screamed.

  He jerked his head around just in time to see Travis pulling a gun from the belt at his back. Instinct kicked in, and Scott fired. The impact knocked Travis backward through the door into the lens room. The gun clattered to the floor and Travis gripped at his stomach. He turned and took one step before he sprawled facedown on the floor.

  Scott stumbled forward and grabbed the gun that lay beside Travis before his legs gave way, and he sank to the floor next to him. Lisa ran in from the widow’s walk and dropped to her knees beside him.

  Tears streamed down her face. “Are you all right?”

  He groaned. “Get my cell phone out and call 911. Tell them we have an officer and murder suspect both down. We need medical help right away.”

  Lisa pulled the phone from his pocket, and he heard her making the call. He had to fight to stay conscious until help arrived. He couldn’t leave her unprotected until someone got here.

  “Scott, help is on the way. Stay with me until they get here.”

  He licked his lips and frowned. “I’ll try.”

  She grasped his hand and kissed it. He could feel the tears dripping on his fingers. “Don’t you dare die on me, Scott Michaels. I love you too much to let you leave me. Hang in there a few more minutes.”

  His heart skipped a beat, and he gazed up at her. He hoped he wasn’t dreaming. She’d just uttered words he’d longed to hear. Her hand still grasped his, and he squeezed it. “That’s good. Because I love you, too.”

  The wail of sirens drifted on the night air. They grew louder the closer they came to the lighthouse. Within minutes footsteps pounded on the stairs, and emergency responders burst into the room. Arnold Tucker, the EMT who’d been at Lisa’s house the day it exploded, dropped to his knees beside Scott.