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It couldn’t be important. He’d have locked it if it was. I might find some … some gloves I could wear while picking the peaches. Gloves would be handy. I jerked open the first cabinet before I could talk myself out of it. It had files in it. All neatly labeled. Names I didn’t know. Some businesses, it seemed.
Did he have businesses? Were these employees? Sometimes, it felt like I didn’t know the man I was in love with. I should know if he owned businesses. Right? When you live with someone and had a relationship with them, you talked about these things … I thought. I wasn’t positive. I’d never had a real relationship until now. Did Lula Mae know about his businesses? Annoyed with that train of thought, I shoved it away.
I closed the file cabinet and then opened the next one. More of the same. Except one was lying on top and shoved to the back. It could be one he had used last and not put back. Curious as to what business it was or person that he had looked at last, I picked it up and turned it so I could read the label.
Briar Landry.
I froze. My name was staring up at me. A chill ran down my spine, and I stopped breathing.
He had a file with my name. Why did he have a file with my name on it? I tried to think of a million reasons why, but none came to mind. I was trembling, I realized. Terrified to open it, but knowing I had to. What if I found something that … that … ruined this?
It was likely. This had all been too perfect. Fate had never much liked me. Why would it now allow me to be happy? My heart was racing in my chest. I could hear the pounding in my ears. I was sleeping with a man in the Mafia. Living under his roof. Had I really believed it was all normal?
“Find what you’re looking for?” Storm’s voice startled me, and a scream escaped me as I spun around, holding the file in my hands.
He was leaning against the doorframe with a cigarette hanging from his mouth. His worn brown cowboy hat was tilted back on his head. His arms were crossed, and the gray-and-blue plaid pearl-snap shirt he was wearing stretched tight over his chest.
What did I say? Yes, he had caught me snooping through his things, but I had also found a file with my name on it. I held it up and just stared at him.
“Go ahead. Open it up,” he said with the cigarette between his teeth, then took a long pull from it before taking it out. “Don’t let me interrupt.”
I looked from him down to the file. Was he angry? Was this a trap?
“What is it?” I asked. My voice cracked, and I cleared my throat.
He pointed at it with the cigarette between two fingers. “See for yourself. You are the one who found it.”
Why did I feel like I was the one who had done something wrong? He was the one with the hidden file with my name on it. I felt like his wrong trumped my snooping.
My hands shook slightly as I opened the file. He didn’t seem at all concerned with what I would find. I mean, it could be innocent. Maybe something King had had on me at one time. That made my nausea abate somewhat.
Frowning, I looked down at a birth certificate, then beneath it were school records, but they weren’t mine. They were for an Angelina Holloway. What was this? The file said my name. I was sure of it.
I lifted my gaze back to Storm. “Who is this?”
He took the cigarette from his lips. “The stuff you had ordered for Dovie to change her identity.”
My eyes dropped back to the paperwork. I scanned for a birthday and saw it was for a fifteen-year-old. Why did he have it? Why hadn’t he told me?! We could have used this. We could still use it. Dovie could go to school in the fall.
“Why is it in here? Why didn’t you give it to me? I ordered this. We need this.” I searched his face, torn between anger and frustration. He’d had it all along.
“She doesn’t need a new identity,” he said, then took another long pull before dropping the cigarette to the ground and covering it with the toe of his boot.
“YES, she does!” I shouted.
He would not control Dovie’s life. That was a hard line for me. No matter how I felt about him, I couldn’t let it affect Dovie.
“She deserves a new life,” I told him, gripping the file in my hand tightly.
He would have to pry this from my cold, dead hand. I wasn’t giving it back to him.
