Doranna Durgin - Survival Instinct

But Kimmer was waiting, and Karin said, “I know what I’m doing.”

Only the faintest of hesitations, and Kimmer said, “Yes, I see that you do.” Before Karin could make sense of that, Kimmer added, “Okay, I’ve got something to scribble with.”

“You’re representing Ranchwood Acres,” Karin told her. “You’ve got three hundred acres of prime land southeast of Okeechobee, and you want a million dollars for it. That’s well under the going rate for one-acre parcels. You’re willing to do private financing with a thirty percent down payment-and if you can sneak in a snide remark about keeping it out of the hands of the Florida Conservation Coalition, that would be perfect. The land has limited access due to the whole swamp thing, but play that up as a plus-it’s exclusive, private property. You acquired it with the idea of selling it off into ranch-size estates, but one of your other projects in development has run into a cash-flow problem and when I said I’d hunt up an investment buyer for a piece of the pie, you went for it. A note of desperation-but like you’re trying to hide it-would be good there.”

“I can do that,” Kimmer said, so matter-of-factly that Karin immediately believed her. Unlike Dave, here was someone who could spin a convincing story.

Good. Karin found herself relaxing. “If he pushes beyond that, I think you should contrive for an interruption of your choice. I’m going to try to nudge him into calling during our lunch meeting today, so I should be there to pick up wherever you leave off.”

“I can do that, too,” Kimmer agreed. “You have timing on this lunch?”

“One o’clock.” Karin checked her watch, alas, not a Tiffany’s. “Will that work for you?”

“My flight’s not till later in the day,” Kimmer said. “We should be good.”

Flight?

“But what if-”

“Once I’m back on the ground, I’m fair game. Multitasking is no biggie.” Kimmer’s shrug all but came through on the line. “Listen, don’t worry about it. It’ll work. And I owe this one to Dave. He really came through for me last year.”

Great. Mr. Rescue, coming through for everyone but himself. Because in the end, he was the one who’d made this harder. But Karin cleared her throat, expressed her thanks, left her cell number with Kimmer and hung up to head back to the hotel to put on her Maia Brenner suit.

Once she’d gotten back to the hotel room she decided to check in with Amy Lynn, but no one picked up. Not unusual. But given their last conversation…

She dialed her own number and punched in the answering-machine code, then hit the option for new messages only.

Gregg Rumsey’s voice blasted out at her loud and clear; she had to fight to keep from pulling the phone away from her face in pure revulsion. “Dammit to hell, Ellen, you’d better fucking call me before this day is out! I know those busy-bodies came here by way of Barret Longsford, and they’re in the way of my work. You find a way to call them off, or I’m heading east my own damn self to take care of things. This isn’t the way things work in this family!”

Sure they do, stepdaddy dearest. He just wasn’t used to being on the receiving end of the inconvenience.

“Call me!” he barked, and slammed the phone down.

Karin did the same, flinging the cell phone into the bed pillows hard enough that it bounced high and came to a spinning halt in the middle of the bed. “Stay out of it!” she snarled at him.

For she had no answers that would satisfy him, and he was the only person in her life who had a chance of fingering her for Karin even over the phone. He’d wait not even a moment before calling the police to let them know she was still alive and ripe for their attention to the warrant. He wasn’t a man to forgive a grudge; he hadn’t even made contact with “Ellen” at Karin’s apparent death.

And still…it had to be done.

In spite of what she’d recently told Amy Lynn, Karin knew well enough that Rumsey wouldn’t hesitate to show up on Ellen’s doorstep. Then he would scam Amy Lynn-honest, gullible Amy Lynn-into offering up all the information he needed, things she’d think insignificant. Enough to let him know that something wasn’t quite right with Ellen. That his phone call verifying his dead daughter’s identity after the crash hadn’t quite been enough.

She couldn’t have that. Not now, not ever.

And that meant pulling off the biggest scam of her life. For her life. Calling Gregg Rumsey and convincing him she was Ellen.

Too damned bad she had such a distinctive voice. Nothing like Ellen’s.

Saint Gelasinus, let this be the best acting I’ve ever done…

She didn’t have to look up his cell number. She’d had it memorized since he got it, burned into her brain and not likely ever to go away. She took a deep breath, putting herself into an Ellen frame of mind. Those final days in the car…it was all she had to go on. In truth, it was enough. Rumsey didn’t know just who Ellen was; they hadn’t spoken in years. He just had to believe she wasn’t Karin.

She punched in the number and scowled at her shaking finger. Get over it!

“Rumsey!” He answered short and sharp, and she knew she’d interrupted the middle of some early-morning wheeling-dealing. Probably something to do with stolen goods; he never showed that sharp side of himself to his marks.

She made herself hesitate. And then she offered, “It’s Ellen.”

“Ellen! What the hell are you doing, sending trouble my way? You weren’t worth shit in the family business, but you damn sure ought to know better than that.”

Hello to you, too, Rumsey. “I’m sorry,” she said, and kept her voice soft. If he could hear her tension, maybe he’d interpret it as anxiety. “It’s a misunderstanding. I just called because…I wanted you to know. I’m taking care of it, really.” She couldn’t remember using more restraint, keeping the crack of assertiveness from her normally husky tones. Back off, Rumsey. I’m dealing with it.

“You damned well better be dealing with it. If I have to come straighten things out…”

More restraint, letting him trail off unchallenged instead of interrupting his last word. “Please,” she said, and made her voice worried like Ellen’s had so often been. Work it all the way through…he’ll hear a scowl in an instant. “You know I don’t want that. Please don’t go to that trouble.”

“What’s this asshole got on you, anyway?”

“On me?” She pretended confusion, even as she realized…he’s buying it. He’s actually buying it. Somehow it made her pulse pound even faster. “Nothing. He’s just a guy who doesn’t want to admit we’re not dating any longer. That’s all there is to it.”

Rumsey’s voice turned solicitous. “You want some help? I can deal with this for you. In fact, I like the sound of that. It’d damn sure get him off my turf sooner than if you handle it.”

The sly bastard. He wanted nothing more than to get Ellen under his thumb again and maybe scam Longsford while he was at it, dumping the mess on Ellen’s head on his way out. But she made herself pause once more, as if she was considering it. Then she said, “He’s loud, Gregg. He doesn’t like to be pushed. He’s just as likely to switch his attention from me to you.”

Magic words, that threat to Rumsey’s little world. And words that would ring true. She had no doubt he’d checked into Longsford’s background and already knew just the kind of man Longsford was. If he was smart, he’d hear the unspoken possibility-that she would be unable to keep Rumsey’s secrets once her stepfather came to Longsford’s focused attention.

Solicitousness gone, Rumsey turned brusque again. “Deal with it, then,” he said. “Deal with it now. Or I’ll have to buy myself a plane ticket and deal with it in person, and I don’t think things will turn out well for you if that happens.”