Shattered Identity Page 4

  When he was a child, his questions about his father and other family members had been brushed aside. His aunt’s refusal to answer and her stern, unloving manner had made him feel alone, as if no one had ever wanted him. Maybe that was what had driven him to volunteer for every dangerous mission in the army that came along. In the end, he’d paid dearly. It had taken a toll on him and left him so emotionally damaged he didn’t think he would ever have a relationship with a woman. Especially not a woman like Lisa Wade.

  An hour later, Scott reentered the kitchen and set an empty trash can on the floor. “I dumped that load in your big garbage can and hauled it to the end of the driveway. I’ll give the sanitation crew a call in the morning and ask them to make a special trip out here to empty it.”

  “You don’t have to do that,” she said. “You’ve done enough just helping me clean up. I don’t want to impose.”

  “You’re not imposing, Lisa. I want to help.”

  Her lips quivered, and her eyes filled with tears. “I—I just…”

  He took a step closer. “Look, Lisa, you don’t have to be brave for me. You’ve had your home invaded twice by someone who seems bent on revenge. That would frighten anyone. So don’t think you have to put up a strong front for me.”

  She wiped at her eyes and took a deep breath. “Thanks, Scott. It’s just that all my life it seems I’ve had to stand on my own two feet.”

  He nodded. “I know the feeling. I suppose we have a lot in common. But you have friends. Brock, Kate and I will do everything we can to keep you safe.”

  She smiled, and her tears glistened. “Thanks, Scott. I suppose I’m more fortunate than a lot of people.”

  A desire to put his arms around her swept over him, but he jammed his hands in his pockets and cleared his throat. “Now let’s see what we need to do next. We’ve worked on the living room and the kitchen. Where to now?”

  She pushed her long hair behind her ear and sighed. “Okay, if you insist. There’s a room at the back of the house we haven’t used in years. It was my parents’ bedroom before their deaths. I looked in there, and my visitor tore everything out of the closet we used for storage. I’d like to straighten the room up. Maybe pick out the things I need to throw away.”

  “Sure. I’ll help you.”

  She hesitated for a moment as if she was debating whether or not to say something. “I do have a job in there that requires someone taller than I am.”

  “What?”

  “It’s the closet. One end is filled with shelves that cover the entire width. The other end has a rod for clothes, but it only goes from front to back. I thought I could make room for hanging more clothes if I tore out the shelves and ran a rod the length of the closet.” She furrowed her brow. “But I’m not tall enough to reach the top shelves, and I don’t like to stand on ladders.”

  A grin pulled at his mouth. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of heights.”

  He expected her to grin at his words. Instead something akin to sorrow shadowed her face. “I have been ever since I was a child.”

  Something in her manner told him not to press the subject. “I guess we all have our fears. Let’s go take a look at that closet.”

  Lisa led the way down a hall to a bedroom at the back of the house. When they stepped into the room, Scott shook his head in disgust at the scattered clothes, books and papers that littered the floor. “Your burglar really made a mess in here. Did you say this was your parents’ bedroom?”

  Lisa nodded as she surveyed the damage. “My parents moved in with my father’s mother when they married. My grandmother told me my mother wanted to move out when I was born, but my father refused. He was a fisherman and was gone for days at a time. He felt we were safer living with his mother.” She paused for a moment. “After both my parents died, I grew up here with my grandmother. She closed this room off, though, and we never used it except for storage.”

  “It wouldn’t take much to fix this room up. Paint the walls, get rid of the old carpet, and it could add to the value of your house.”

  “I thought so, too. Let me show you the closet.” They stepped over a pile of books, and she opened the closet door and pointed to the shelves at one end of the closet. “They’re right there. I hope they won’t be too hard to get out.”

  He stepped into the closet, took hold of the bottom shelf, and pulled. “Piece of cake. A little paint and a new rod in here, and you’ll have a bigger and better closet.”

  “Are you sure you don’t mind taking the shelves out?”

  “Not a bit. By the way, you know last night was my last rotation on second shift. I go back on days tomorrow. I’d be glad to come back tomorrow night and help you some more.”

  She hesitated for a moment. “Th-that’s nice of you, Scott, but I wouldn’t feel right asking you to do it again.”

  A warning flashed in his mind. He had already gotten closer to Lisa than he’d intended. Continuing to be around her could put him at serious risk of becoming too involved, and that would be bad for both of them.

  He gave a slight shake of his head. What was he thinking? After all, he was a deputy, and Lisa was the victim of a crime. She needed protection until they caught her intruder. He inhaled deeply. “You’re not asking—I’m volunteering. It’s not safe for you to be here alone until we know who broke into your house. I’ll pick you up at Treasury’s after supper.”

  He expected her to protest again. Instead her mouth curled into a smile. “Thank you, Scott. I’m going back to work tomorrow. Since you’ll be on the day shift, how about if I buy you dinner at the Brass Lantern after we get off work? It’s the least I can do to repay you for all you’ve done for me.”

  A thrill shot through him at her words, but he tried to ignore it. The smart thing would be for him to tell Lisa he couldn’t go to dinner. He opened his mouth to refuse her kind offer, but the sparkle in her blue eyes weakened his defenses.

  So instead he heard himself speaking words that left him wondering what hold this woman was beginning to have on him. “I’d like to go to dinner with you,” he said.

  Lisa’s heart felt lighter than it had since she’d come home to the sound of a burglar in her house. She didn’t know what had lifted her mood, but she suspected it might have something to do with the handsome police officer who hummed a tune as he pulled another shelf from the closet wall.

  “What’s that song?”

  Scott handed her the shelf and grinned. “Something we sang at church last Sunday.”

  “Oh, so you go to church with your sisters?”

  He wiped the perspiration from his forehead and nodded. “Yeah. Kate said she’s tried to get you to go, but she hasn’t convinced you yet.”

  “No.”

  “We’d all like for you to come.”

  Her skin warmed, and suddenly the room felt stuffy. She turned away and laid the shelf on top of the other two he’d already dismantled. “I don’t think the air conditioner is working. I wonder if I need to get a repairman out here to check the ductwork.”

  She glanced back at Scott, but he seemed focused on the next shelf. He shrugged. “Maybe so.”

  At the thought she groaned. The changes she was making had already exceeded the budget she’d set. Now with all the additional damage, she doubted her insurance would cover the costs. If it didn’t, where would she get the extra money? The house wouldn’t sell unless it was in good condition. And if the house didn’t sell, she couldn’t leave the island. She had no idea what she would do then.

  A tremor went through her body. Did someone really hate her enough to do all this damage? And what if her attacker had decided to bludgeon her to death while she was unconscious? The questions made chills run up and down her spine. She struggled to direct her thoughts to something more positive.

  With an effo
rt she turned her attention to Scott and peered into the closet. “How are you making out in there?”

  “It’s a little warm, but I’m on the last shelf. I’ll…uh-oh, I didn’t see that coming.” He ducked and covered his head as the closet’s top shelf toppled downward and clattered to the floor at his feet.

  Lisa crowded into the closet to get a better look. “What happened?”

  Scott straightened and pointed to a spot high up on the closet wall. “There are two wood brackets attached to the wall, and the shelf was resting on top of them. It fell when I pulled on it.”

  Lisa stared upward at the brackets sticking out from the wall. “I’ve never noticed those being there, but I hardly ever came in here. When I did, I would put something in the closet floor or on one of the bottom shelves. I couldn’t reach the top one.”

  Scott shook his head. “Neither could anyone else unless they stood on a chair.” He flashed a smile in her direction. “Which explains why you never noticed them.”

  Lisa’s eyebrows arched, and she narrowed her eyes. “I should never have told you about my fear of heights.” Placing her hands on her hips, she studied the top of the closet. “I wonder why they made it that way.”

  “I don’t know. Do you have anything I can stand on to get those brackets off the wall?”

  “Yes. I have a two-step folding kitchen ladder, unless it got broken today. Let me find it.” Minutes later, she returned from the kitchen with the ladder in hand. “Here it is. He must not have seen it in the utility room.”

  Scott unfolded it and climbed onto the higher step. Lisa stuck her head around the corner of the door and watched as Scott reached up and grasped one of the brackets.

  “Whoa, now. What is this?” he asked.

  Lisa stood on her tiptoes and tried to get a better look. “What’s the matter?”

  Without answering, he wrapped his fingers around both brackets and pulled. The board they were nailed to slipped free of the wall. “I don’t believe this.”

  Lisa’s stomach fluttered. “What did you find?”

  “What I thought was the closet wall isn’t at all. The real wall is behind it.”

  “Are you saying somebody built a false wall at the end of the closet? Why would anybody do that?”

  “I don’t know.” He handed the board that had covered the opening down to Lisa. “It could have been done when the house was built. Maybe the owner wanted a place to hide valuables.” He stuck his hand in the hole and reached downward.

  Lisa dropped the board at her feet and directed her attention back to him. “Be careful, Scott. There may be spiders in there.”

  A laugh rumbled in his throat. “Spiders? That’s just like a woman. Find a secret hiding place, and she’s worried about spiders inside.” Surprise flashed across his face. “Well, what do we have here?”

  “What is it?”

  “There’s a metal box wedged down in here. I’m going to pry it free. It looks like it’s been here a long time.”

  “Can you get it?”

  “I just about have…” He grunted and gave a tug. “I have it.” He hopped to the floor of the closet and held out the metal box to her. “Here it is.”

  Lisa grabbed a cloth that stuck out of one of the storage boxes and wiped the dust from the container. There was no lock. “This is like something you’d see on TV. I feel like I’ve stepped back in time and am about to find something that belonged to one of my ancestors.”

  He grinned. “Or it could be an empty box that fell down in there years ago.”

  Lisa raised her eyebrows. “I like my version better. In fact, I predict it contains jewels hidden in the wall to keep thieves from finding them.”

  Scott laughed and shook his head. “Dream on. But what are you waiting for? Open it and find out what’s in it.”

  They dropped down on the floor side by side. Lisa placed the box in her lap and put her hand on its top. Before she could open it, Scott placed his hand on top of hers. “Seriously, though, you do realize this may be nothing, right?”

  “Of course. I just thought the moment called for a little drama.”

  He smiled. “I just don’t want you to be too disappointed if there’s nothing inside.”

  “I won’t.” Even as she said it, she knew it wasn’t true. Her grandmother had told her the house was built by Lisa’s great-grandfather. Whatever lay inside the walls had to belong to one of her family members.

  Biting down on her lip, Lisa pulled the top up and stared down at the contents of the box. “There’s a small black book inside.” She reached inside, pulled it out and held it up.

  “What kind of book is it?” Scott asked.

  “I don’t know.” She opened the cover, gasped and jumped to her feet. The book along with the box fell to the floor. Lisa jammed her fist in her mouth to stifle the moan that rose in her throat.

  Scott sprang up from the floor, his eyes wide. He grabbed her by the arms and turned her to face him. “Lisa, what’s the matter?”

  Her heart pounded so hard she could hardly speak. “I can’t believe it, Scott. This may answer all my questions.”

  He frowned and shook his head. “I don’t understand.”

  She wriggled free of his hold, scooped up the book and clutched it to her chest. She sank back onto the floor. “The first page of this book is inscribed with my mother’s name. It says it’s her journal.”

  “You’re kidding.” He eased down next to her. “I can understand why you would be happy about finding something that belonged to your mother. But you’re acting like this is something more than just a diary.”

  “It is. You see, I don’t remember my parents. My father and mother both died when I was three. He was lost at sea during a storm, and she died a few weeks later. I’ve never really known anything about either of them.” She caressed the book in her hand. “Maybe now I can come to know my mother.”

  Sympathy filled his eyes. “I know what it’s like to want to know more about a parent who’s died. I hope your mother’s journal will help you.”

  Her heart skipped a beat because she realized Scott had no idea why she would be so interested in the diary. “Has Kate ever told you about my mother?”

  He shook his head. “No. She just told me you were orphaned when you were three. Why would she tell me anything else?”

  “Because everybody on the island knows the story, and I thought you might have heard it by now.” She held up the book. “Maybe my mother’s journal will finally give me the answers I’ve always wanted.”

  “Story? Answers? What are you talking about?”

  Lisa took a deep breath. “I want to know why my mother left me alone with my grandmother one night when I was three years old, climbed to the top of the island lighthouse and jumped to her death from the widow’s walk.”

  Scott’s face looked as if she had thrown ice water on him. “Your mother committed suicide by jumping from the lighthouse?”

  “Yes, just a few weeks after my father’s death.”

  Understanding flashed across his face. “Is that what triggered your fear of heights?”

  She bit her lip and nodded. “Yes. When I was growing up, the park rangers would take kids up to the widow’s walk sometimes. I never could do it, though. My friends would tell me how you could see the whole island from up there, but I could never go. I get sick to my stomach just thinking about climbing up there.”

  “It must be rough seeing the oldest lighthouse in North Carolina every day.”

  “It is. Since it’s still in operation, I can’t even escape it at night. Whenever I go out, I see its light. So I’m reminded of my mother’s death day and night.”

  “And you never went up to the widow’s walk?”

  “No. In fact, I go
out of my way so that I don’t have to drive by the lighthouse. I don’t even want to see the entrance.”

  He straightened and glanced at the book she held. “Are you sure you want to read what she wrote? It may hurt too much to read about her grief over your father’s death.”

  She shook her head. “She wasn’t grieving, according to my grandmother. She told me often enough she was the only one who cared when he died. I could tell that she never liked my mother, but I wondered if she was right. Now I can find out.”

  “And what good will that do? You can’t change the past, just like I can’t change the fact my aunt withheld the truth from me for years.”

  “I know, but it’s different with you, Scott. You have your sisters now, and I’ll never have anyone. All my family is dead, and I have to know why.”

  He studied her for a moment before he nodded. “All right. But understand that you may not like what you find.”

  She took a deep breath and picked up the book again. Holding it, she flipped through page after page of neat handwriting. When she came to the last page, her gaze roved over the lines until she came to the last one. She read it, frowned and read it again.

  “I don’t understand this.”

  Scott leaned closer. “What?”

  “This last entry was written the day she died. That date has been burned in my mind all my life. But listen to the last thing she wrote. I don’t regret anything I have done. It’s all been for my sweet Lisa. Someday she will be a very rich woman.”

  “Rich? What do you think she meant? Could she have left some money for you somewhere?”

  Lisa closed the book, laid it in her lap and pressed her palms on the cover. “I don’t know, but I intend to find out. And this book is going to help me do it.”