Phillip relocated his glasses to the top of his head and stared at Link. “How’d you put that together?” He grabbed the papers out of Jacqueline’s hands, flipped through three, then jabbed his index finger at the timeline, where items started appearing in both columns. “That’s exactly when it all started.” He thrust the papers back into her hands, and spoke to Link as if Jacqueline wasn’t in the room, much less between them. “The other one has only worked sporadically for the past five years. Short term jobs all over the place. That’s why I initially figured Jacqueline was earning extra cash on the side.” He switched his attention to Jacqueline, “But if some woman took on your name, faked an ID...” Phillip’s voice trailed off, then he snapped his fingers. “It makes sense.”
“You couldn’t have enrolled in the same college without the registrar’s office flagging the files,” Link said, as he held her close, giving her support. “The obvious explanation is that you didn’t.”
“And I should think I would have met her, if she was in the same program.” Her spine straightened.
“Someone is using your name and degree.”
“Basically this other person stole my identity.” She quivered, with pent up anger.
Link said, “That’s it in a nut shell.” Jacqueline whirled out of his grasp, and began pacing. She shook the papers. “Why me?” she fumed. “If this person wanted a new identity, why be satisfied with a two year degree? Why not go for something better?”
“Perhaps because you got the degree but never went into nursing,” Link said.
Jacqueline stopped, her expression showing surprise at the thought. “Which would mean that she’d heard about my course change, like she worked in the office or something.”
“There’s always a need for nurses, and there are so many that there’s little likelihood of discovery,” Phillip said. Link nodded. “Plus, I think she adopted your identity as soon as you earned that degree.”
“Like you said, it had to be someone who knew about you or maybe even knew you personally,” Link said. “Maybe someone who couldn’t hack school, but wanted to be a nurse. Know anyone that dropped out of your class, but knew you didn’t plan to use your degree?”
“No.”
“Maybe she just liked the name,” Phillip said.
“Oh, please! Do you have any idea how much teasing I got over Card Ew, Car Dew and at least ten other variations when I was a kid?”
“Maybe she figured she could pull off nursing,” Link said.
“She obviously adopted my social security number, but I’ve only been having problems with the IRS the past couple years. Jacqueline frowned. “I wonder what she originally went after - the degree or my identity.”
“What confounds me is how she found out what your social was.” Phillip pushed his hair out of his eyes and knocked his glasses off the back of his head. Using a gesture that looked well-rehearsed, Phillip caught them before they hit the floor.
“You must have given your number to someone,” Link said. Jacqueline shook her head. “Sure you did. People in the registrar’s office had it. When tax forms get mailed, it can be on them. Anyone who had access to your mail or college files could have gotten it.”
“I bet it was someone with access to the college archive,” Phillip said. “After all, that seems to be where this began.”
Jacqueline closed her eyes and concentrated. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but didn’t Ray say that he’d met his Jacqueline about five years ago? That would have been about the same time I got my first degree.”
“I thought it was three years,” Link said.
“No. He’s been following me for three. He said they lived together for two. That makes five.”
“You’re right.” Link caressed her shoulders. “One heck of a coincidence, wouldn’t you say?”
She nodded.
“That substantiates my theory that someone working at the college adopted your identity,” Phillip said. “Then later took the degree. Perhaps as a continuation of their cover, perhaps for some other reason.”
Jacqueline rubbed her arms as if she was chilled. Link moved behind her and covered her icy hands with his own, willing his warmth back into her. Gradually, her flesh responded and he was forced to still his hands so his mind could concentrate on the problem.
Suddenly, she jerked her hands free and began pacing, again. “But why did this person need a new name?” Jacqueline shook her fist at the papers. “That’s still the question. Those papers don’t explain how she’s managed to keep her job. After all, nursing isn’t as simple as slapping a Band-Aid on a cut. It’s not something you can decide would be fun, then apply for a job and get it. Nursing takes knowledge. You do the wrong thing and whammo, at the very least you’re fired. This person has worked several places and moved around a lot. I don’t like the implications at all. What if she’s taken my good name and...” Jacqueline couldn’t go on.
Again, Link wrapped his arms around her and settled her against him. He understood how she felt and what she’d thought, but could not say, ‘What if the woman who’d taken her name had killed someone with the wrong medicine?’ Her body quivered against him. Link vowed that his Jacqueline would never be held accountable for the other’s actions. He even felt a chill at the possibility that the authorities might charge her with a crime some imposter had done in her name.
Worse, Link feared Jacqueline would decide to follow the pattern, which had worked with Capolucho: confront the situation and get it straightened out. But the woman had probably tried murder at least once, that they knew of, she might be willing to try a second time. A cold knot formed in his stomach and he cuddled her closer. “We’ll give this data to Windy and have her contact the correct authorities.”
“But— ”
“This isn’t something you can work out,” Link said. She glared at him. “Think about it, why was she in Hawaii? Why couldn’t Capolucho learn anything about her past, even after two years of living with her? Don’t you think this situation of yours seems contrived?”
“I don’t like what I’m thinking.” Phillip sounded as worried as he looked. “What if this other woman was a nurse and had her degree, but something happened and she couldn’t get a job under her own name. Somehow she assumed your identity.” Phillip frowned.
“But according to Ray, she didn’t work as a nurse while she lived with him, so I really don’t think she took my name to be a healer, at least not at first.” Jacqueline chewed her lower lip.
Phillip nodded. “And it still doesn’t explain why she chose you or how she managed to get the information she needed.”
Again, Jacqueline pushed Link’s arms away and began to pace. “If she was standing in front of me this minute, I’d make her eat that darned diploma.” Link fought the urge to chuckle. Jacqueline plopped down on the desk chair, which was the only uncluttered thing in the entire room. “Go ahead and laugh,” she said. “I know it sounds like a stupid solution.” Jacqueline exhaled. “I still want to do it, though. I can even picture rolling that tasteless piece of parchment, smothering it in gravy, and ramming it down her throat until she choked on it.”
Link took a steadying breath. “Why gravy?”
“Gravy, grease, slug-slime - whatever’d make sheepskin go down easier.” Jacqueline swiveled the chair toward the computer and took several deep breaths, before calmly asking, “Phillip, is my entire life stored in computer files?”
“Just about.”
“And you learned all this from the few things I told you.” Jacqueline glared at the blank monitor.
Phillip’s nod was reflected on the dark screen. “It was child’s play. Once someone gives you his or her social security number, you can find out just about anything.”
“I don’t like this at all.” Jacqueline massaged her temple. “My privacy has been violated.”
“You gave me the— ”
“Not you,” Jacqueline interrupted, “her.”
“It’s worse than a privacy violation,�
�� Link said. “Someone took your life, your name, your past.”
“Exactly.” Jacqueline nodded.
Link watched her mentally wrestle with the facts and his apprehension grew. Gut instinct told him that whomever had taken Jacqueline’s identity would want to hang onto it at any price. It was time to ask for help. “We need to phone Windy and tell her what we’ve found.”
“Stone’s sister? The FBI agent?” Phillip asked.
Link nodded. “Identity theft isn’t her department, but she’ll know who we need to contact.”
“No.” Jacqueline shook her head.
“What do you mean, no?” Link demanded.
Jacqueline shook the sheaf of papers at him. “Some woman stole my life. My life. She’s been me for at least five years. We don’t have to deal with this today, or even tomorrow. I imagine that by now, she’s feeling pretty confident.” Jacqueline paused to catch her breath, and Link saw fury in her expression. “Ray’s Jackie may be comfortable with my name, but I need time – time to think and decide exactly how I want to handle this. When I decide how I want to proceed, I’ll do it and I won’t go running to Stone’s sister.”
“Please,” Link said, “don’t even think of personally confronting the woman.” She glared at him. Acid seeped into his stomach and he felt his core begin to writhe in misery. Instinct told him that if Jacqueline decided on a personal confrontation, things wouldn’t turn out well.
His apprehension went past his desire to keep Jacqueline with him. Yes, he wanted her to spend the rest of her life with him, but he was afraid to hold too tight, and simultaneously not to hold tight enough.
The intensity of his thoughts brought him up short. Link had never felt that way about anyone before. Not even Stone. While he couldn’t imagine not having Stone as a best friend or business partner, it had been a relief when he’d married Ariel and moved next door. He’d never feel that way about Jacqueline. He didn’t know why he was so certain about that, he simply was.
He was certain of two other things: one, he knew Jacqueline would want to confront her imposter, as she had Capolucho. Two, if she followed her inclinations, it would turn out badly. The thought of losing Jacqueline terrified him. Somehow, he had to convince Jacqueline to let the authorities deal with her imposter. The question was how to do it without locking her in a closet or handcuffing her to the bed. He blinked at that tantalizing solution, then shook his head.
Perhaps Mavis would help him talk sense to her. He’d phone her right after he laid this entire mess out for Windy to analyze.
29
Her parents had espoused education above all else by continually telling her that higher grades equaled a better job, more money, a lovely home … success … things they wanted for her, but she had never been sure she wanted for herself. Jacqueline’s teeth ground together as she thought of how often she’d forsaken fun with her friends in order to study for tests or rewrite her notes. Her father praised every big fat A she brought home; her mother equated whatever she did to either Aesop’s grasshopper or his ant.
Ants got privileges.
Grasshoppers didn’t.
Straight A’s were given money.
Every B meant fifteen extra minutes rewriting homework for a week. She had never dared to discover how a C or worse might affect her privileges.
Until today, she’d been proud to be the industrious ant. Now, the more she thought about it, the more indignant Jacqueline became. How dare some stranger, possibly a grasshopper, steal the degree she’d worked so hard for! It didn’t matter that she’d given up the carreer-goal of nursing. She, Jacqueline Cardew, the real Jacqueline Cardew, was the one who’d made the Dean’s list every semester and been offered the coveted job at Envirohab.
What had her counterpart done with her life?
Was Phillip right about the imposter administering the wrong medication? Had the phony Jacqueline Cardew killed a patient and lost her job? What other reason could there be to steal someone else’s good name? The more Jacqueline thought about it, the more plausible it sounded, and the more she wanted to punch the phantom imposter square in the nose. Punch her again and again – at least once for every blasted note Capolucho had written and every fear she’d felt because of his miserable attempt at righting the wrongs done to him.
The idea of an incompetent woman ruining her own reputation, then appropriating another name, was infuriating. The only thought that upset her more was the fear that the woman had made mortal mistakes as Jacqueline Cardew and she, the real Jacqueline Cardew, could be accused of the imposter’s crimes.
How could she go to the authorities and prove she was the real Jacqueline Cardew? Would her driver’s license and birth certificate be adequate to prove her identity? Since her counterpart had purloined her birthday and social security number, she was certain it would be extremely difficult to prove her identity. If the woman had stolen her diploma, she probably might even have access to her bachelor's degree, too. Would the situation come down to depositions from family to verify her claim?
If she needed to prove who she was, this was the worst possible time for her parents to have disappeared on their sailboat. Jacqueline wanted to hit something. Someone. A specific lying, cheating someone who lived in San Francisco.
She glared at the blank computer-screen, willing it to give her a solution instead of the reams of disturbing facts compiled on the lists Phillip had strewn around the room. But, she wasn’t some sort of computer wizard, like Phillip, and all she knew how to use computers for was write papers and check her e-mail.
‘I need to know why she chose me, and if she’s done harm using my name.’ She closed her eyes, and attempted to control the rage curling within her. Abruptly, she remembered the photo in Capolucho’s wallet. There had been a coed with curly red hair in her freshman chemistry lab. Jacqueline frowned. Though she couldn’t recall the girl’s name, she had always seemed overly friendly. That oozing, syrupy sweet friendliness had repelled her. Was it possible that she was the woman who’d stolen her identity? Access codes for the computers had been social security numbers. If the redhead had wanted to, she could have looked over her shoulder when she was entering it.
Could it have been that simple to steal her life?
Jacqueline seethed with self-recrimination, as she recalled how little value she’d placed on security when she was a co-ed.
Link moved behind her chair and began to massage the tense muscles at the back of her neck. It felt wonderful. “What are you thinking about?” Link asked softly.
Jacqueline gestured toward the offending pile of papers. “Her. I’m praying she hasn’t murdered anyone while she was pretending to be me.”
His hands paused for a moment, and then resumed their tender kneading. “I tried calling Windy, but her service said she’d be away from the phone for at least four more hours. So, after dinner I’ll try, again.”
“What good will that do? How could I even prove that I’m not some nut? Or that I’m the real Jacqueline?”
“Windy will believe you, especially when she hears Mavis was the one who introduced you.”
Grandma! Why hadn’t she thought of her or Rory? Relief, warm and sweet, flooded through Jacqueline. Reaching up, she touched Link’s hand. “Thanks.”
“For what?”
“For helping me look at the whole picture. With my parents sailing wherever the wind takes them, I was wondering how to prove to the authorities that I’m who I say I am.” His fingers twined with hers. She swiveled the chair and tilted up her head until she was looking at him. “Can you imagine how debilitating it is to wonder if you can prove your own identity? To wonder if the imposter is so good that if you take her to court, she’ll somehow be able to turn the situation back on you and convince the judge that you’re the imposter?”
He grimaced and shook his head. Jacqueline placed her palm over his hand and squeezed.
Phillip cleared his throat. “I hate to interrupt, but could I have that chair? There are a few
other leads I want to follow up on before we leave on Sunday.”
Jacqueline sprang out of the chair. “It’s all yours. I want every scrap of information you can find.”
“Figured you might.” Phillip settled into the seat and touched the mouse. As the dark screen cleared, Phillip deftly opened the Internet connection and began pointing and clicking. Though he had seemed awkward and somewhat incompetent while camping and canoeing, he suddenly had an air of confidence. It was a side of him she would never have suspected.
The man probably even knew how to put spangles on e-mails.
Link tugged on her hand. “Come on. Let’s let him concentrate.” The expression on his face stopped her from protesting. As the door closed behind them and they stood in the small hallway, Jacqueline could almost sense Link’s relief. Dropping his voice, he whispered, “I couldn’t stand that mess any longer.”
“I take it that your office is generally tidier?” He nodded. “How on earth does he ever find anything?”
“Some people find order in chaos.” Link looked to the ceiling.
“Since you don’t, it’s good we left.”
He gave her a lopsided grin. “In a couple more minutes, I’d have started cleaning.”
“Well then, it’s good that we closed the door so you can’t see the chaos.”
“You don’t need to confront that other woman, either.” Who was he to tell her what to do? “That is what you were thinking of, isn’t it?”
She shook her head, but now that he’d mentioned it... “You’re right, the law needs to do its part.” She simply intended to get a look at the woman then let the law have her.
He smiled and hugged her. Jacqueline clung to him, amazed at how quickly she had learned to depend on his presence. He hugged her closer. “I want you to stay here. With me.”
Jacqueline swallowed hard. Within the past two weeks, Link had become such a large part of her life that she couldn’t imagine him not being part of her future. “I don’t— ”
Passion's Fire Page 22
