Blown Away. Sharon Sala

sure,” Loretta said. “She’s injured, as if she’s been in some kind of accident, although the paramedics who brought her in said there was nothing wrong with her car. It’s possible she has been the victim of a crime, but at this point, we just don’t know. We’re calling you because she has you listed as her emergency contact.”

      “Yes, yes, I’ll be right there,” Mike said, then realized he didn’t know which location. “Wait! Are you calling from Mid-City hospital, or the Bluebonnet location?”

      “Bluebonnet, on Picardy Street,” she said.

      “Okay, thanks,” Mike said, and disconnected. He was already running toward the hall to get his car keys when Songee met him at the door.

      “Your keys,” she said, as he handed her the phone.

      “Thank you, Songee. As always, you’re a step ahead of me.”

      “Is Susan all right?”

      “I don’t know,” he said. “I’ll call when I know something. In the meantime, it wouldn’t hurt to send up one of your prayers.”

      “Yes, sir,” Songee said. “I’ll make it a powerful one…just in case.”

      She stood and watched until the taillights of his car disappeared down the driveway, then went back inside with praying on her mind.

      Physical pain brought a rude awakening. Every heartbeat throbbed throughout her body. Her hands were stiff and bandaged, and for a moment she couldn’t remember why. Then the memories flooded back…ugly, mind-numbing memories. Struck again with overwhelming sorrow, tears were already brimming as she opened her eyes.

      Then she gasped.

      A stranger—a man with dark hair and angry green eyes—was leaning over her bed. His voice was soft, his words accusing.

      “I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, but you’re not Susan Blackwell. Talk now, or I’m calling the police.”

      Cari’s stomach knotted as panic shot through her. She couldn’t be outed—not like this. Not—yet.

      “You don’t understand,” she mumbled, and grabbed at his wrist. “Susan and I are cousins. I needed to—”

      She heard a swiftly indrawn breath, then the man quickly stepped back. The anger on his face slowly shifted to understanding. He put a hand on her arm, as if to steady her.

      “Carolina? Is your name Carolina?”

      Cari shuddered on a sob as the tension eased.

      “Yes, but how did you—”

      “I’m Michael Boudreaux, Susan’s boss…and friend. The hospital called me when you were brought in. Susan always said you two looked alike, although it’s hard to tell beneath the bruises and bandages.”

      “Oh, thank God,” Cari said. She’d heard Susan talk about him for so long that her panic shifted to hope. Maybe he could help.

      Mike frowned.

      “What happened, Carolina?”

      “Cari…please.”

      “Cari it is. Why the deceit? Why did you enter the hospital under Susan’s name?”

      Cari’s eyes welled again, but this time, tears rolled. She hadn’t planned on telling on herself quite this soon, but Mike Boudreaux’s unexpected appearance gave her no choice.

      The moment Mike saw the tears, he knew the answer wasn’t going to be good.

      “Susan’s dead. My mother and father are dead. The storm…there was a tornado at our farm.”

      “Sweet Jesus,” Mike muttered, then turned away, overcome by shock.

      For a few moments all Cari saw was the stiff set of his shoulders. Panic swept through her. What was he going to do? Would he out her to the world before she had time to protect herself?

      Then, all of a sudden, he turned back. His eyes were wet with tears, but his voice was steady as he lightly touched her shoulder and asked, “Is that what happened to you?”

      She nodded, then wished she hadn’t, because the motion made her sick.

      Mike frowned. This wasn’t making sense. “How did you get here? Why didn’t you go to Bordelaise for medical treatment? That’s where you live, right?”

      Cari couldn’t stop crying. Every time she tried to answer, the words seemed to swell and choke at the back of her throat.

      Mike sighed. Obviously this wasn’t a good time to push. But something was off. Unless…

      “I think I understand,” Mike said. “I was told you were found unconscious at a stoplight in Baton Rouge. You were driving Susan’s car. Her stuff was in it. They assumed you were her, right? Don’t worry. I’ll straighten all this out for you.”

      When he moved, Cari grabbed his wrist, then winced at the pain in her bandaged palms. “No! Don’t!” she cried. “You don’t understand.” She swiped at her tears with the edge of her sheet, then took a breath, trying to calm her thoughts. “Just before the storm hit, I walked up on a neighbor in our woods. He was…he was…oh God…just saying it aloud makes no sense.”

      “What was he doing?” Mike persisted.

      “Digging a grave to bury the dead man wrapped up in the rug beside him.”

      “What the hell? You witnessed a murder?”

      “Not the actual murder. Just the disposal of the body. He started running after me. I lost my phone while I was trying to get away. I just needed to get home. The tornado hit just as I reached the house. I lived through it. My family didn’t. It wasn’t until I found Susan’s body…her injuries were mainly to her…” Cari shuddered, then covered her face with her hands. “Oh God, oh God…to her face.” She shivered, then made herself continue. “I knew I had to hide until I figured out what to do, so I put my coat on Susan’s body, knowing she would be identified as me, and ran.”

      Mike swallowed past the knot in his throat. Susan Blackwell had worked for him for seven years. He adored her and depended on her—as a friend and as his personal assistant. To know her life had ended like this was devastating. But his sorrow was obviously not on the same level as Carolina North’s losses.

      “I’m so sorry,” he said, and then turned away and walked toward the windows overlooking the parking lot to gather his own emotions.

      Cari’s head was pounding. All of a sudden, she knew she was going to be sick—again.

      “Mr. Boudreaux… Mike! I think I’m going to throw up,” Cari said.

      Mike spun and rushed to her side, grabbing the wastebasket and holding it up at the side of the bed as Cari leaned over. She didn’t feel his hand on her back or see the empathy on his face. All she knew was that by the time she’d finished, her nurse was in the room, waiting with a fresh washcloth to wash her face.

      Cari fell back onto the pillow with a groan. “Oh my God, I am so sorry.”

      “There’s nothing to be sorry for. You’re fortunate to still be alive,” Mike said.

      The nurse checked Cari’s IV flow, eyed Mike curiously, then left to get something for Cari’s nausea.

      Once again, Cari and Mike were alone. He spooned a couple of ice chips into her mouth, then waited for her to chew them. When he thought she could handle the questions, he started talking again.

      “Why didn’t you go straight to the Bordelaise authorities?”

      “And say what? That I saw my neighbor burying a body in the woods?”

      “You knew the man?” Mike asked.

      “Unfortunately, yes. Lance Morgan. I grew up with him…. His family’s land