The Imposter

by Gary Blackwood

  Ollie frowned. "If it sits there overnight, they'll tow it."

  "Allen could drive it home," said Kelley eagerly. "Couldn't you, Allen?" He guessed that she was planning to ride with him.

  "Do you have a license, Allen?" asked Ollie. She was probably hoping to get her hands on it, to prove he was a fake.

  "Sorry, I haven't gotten around to it yet. I mean, you don't really need a car in Montreal, do you?" There was no way Ollie would have entrusted her husband's automobile to him, anyway, let alone her daughter.

  "Well, I suppose I'll have to drive it and let Sandy take you two home." She glared through the window at the chauffeur/gardener. "You be very careful."

  "Sure, I will," said Sandy. He sounded uncharacteristically cheerful—probably because Ollie wouldn't be riding with them. Ryan shared his sentiments.

  Though Kelley was obviously still anxious about her father, she didn't say much about him. They mostly talked about what they wanted to do with their lives and about the parts of the world they wanted to see. Sandy talked a little about Newfoundland, and Ryan listened intently, trying to capture his accent. You never knew when it might come in handy.

  It was after dark when they pulled into the winding drive of the estate. "Let us out by the stable, will you?" said Kelley. "I have to feed Tigger and Winnie." When they had given the horses their grain, she pulled two curry combs from the wall and handed one to Ryan.

  "What's this for?"

  "To groom your horse."

  "She's not my horse."

  "She may as well be. No one else rides her except me. When I'm at school, nobody rides them at all." She ran her comb in circles around her mare's flank. Ryan cautiously imitated her. "I wonder …" said Kelley.

  "What?"

  "Whether they'll let you go to public school. If they do, maybe they'll let me, too. What do you think?"

  "I don't know."

  "The other day, you said there's some good in everything. Well, there's one good thing about Daddy being in the hospital: Mother won't make me go back until we're sure he's okay." She stopped brushing and turned to Ryan. "He will be okay, won't he?"

  Why was she asking him? What did he know about it? Probably she wasn't looking for an opinion, just a little reassurance. Reassuring people was not one of Ryan's strong points. He called upon the spirit of Allen for help. "Sure. He'll be fine." Not exactly profound, but it seemed be what she wanted to hear.

  They went on working in silence, except for the snuffling and chomping of the horses and the scraping of the curry combs. Okay, this was it. Now was the time to tell her. He might as well get it over with. But where to start? What approach would hurt her the least? He racked his brain for some line, out of all the plays he'd done, that would suit the occasion, and he drew a total blank. He was going to have to find the words on his own. "Kelley?"

  Her comb was poised in midair and she turned toward him. "Uh-huh?"

  "I … um … I think I hear your mother pulling in."

  It was true. Like all great actresses, Ollie had impeccable timing.

  The cook had gone home, leaving a couple of covered dishes for them to microwave. They sat at the kitchen counter to eat. Ollie took the chair next to the phone and drew the answering machine to her, to play back the afternoon's messages. But there were no messages. Each time the beep sounded, it was followed not by a voice but by a silence, then the sound of someone hanging up. The sequence repeated itself half a dozen times—beep, silence, click. Finally, Ollie punched the Stop button peevishly. "There must be something wrong with this machine."

  "I bet Allen could fix it," Kelley volunteered. "Couldn't you, Allen?" What did she think he was, some kind of genius?

  Ollie gave Ryan a sarcastic look. "Oh, yes, I dare say Allen is capable of almost anything."

  Ryan laughed uncomfortably. "Well, I could try, I guess. But not tonight, if you don't mind. I'm beat. I'd really like to turn in."

  "That's fine with me," said Ollie. As Ryan headed for his room, she called after him, "Oh, Allen? Do be sure the waterbed is plugged in, won't you?" Her tone of voice said that she wasn't done with him yet. She'd probably wired the thing so it would electrocute him. Just to be safe, he slept on the floor, but only after he'd locked his door and wedged a chair under the doorknob.

  He woke to the sound of someone rattling the knob. Startled, he sat up and looked around for something to defend himself with.

  "Allen?" said a soft voice.

  "Kelley?" he replied groggily.

  "Yeah. You've got a phone call."

  He rubbed his eyes and glanced at the curtained window. "What time is it?"

  "Eight o'clock."

  "am?"

  She laughed. "Of course. Shall I tell them to call back?"

  "No, no, I'll get it. Can I just pick up in here?"

  "Sure."

  "Okay. Thanks." Under his breath, he added, "I think." He shuffled to the Starship Enterprise, wondering foggily who on earth was calling, and why. Stifling a yawn, he said into the engine pod, "Hello?"

  A gruff voice said, "Allen?"

  "Umm … yeah?"

  "This is Burton."

  Chapter 24

  Ryan was struck dumb, but only for a moment. "Burton? Where are you?"

  "Never mind that. Can you talk?"

  "You mean safely? I think so. Sometimes Ollie listens in, but—"

  "All right, I'll make it fast. I've been trying to get hold of you since yesterday afternoon. I checked in with my secretary and she says Allen's mother called her—"

  "Allen's mother?"

  "Hey! Just listen. I've been trying to track her and the kid down for over a year, with no luck. So, a couple of months ago, I start running this ad in the personals of the Montreal Gazette: Get in touch with me, urgent, concerning your ex-husband, blah, blah, blah. I never expected to get a response."

  "But you did."

  "Yeah. I did."

  "Then all that stuff about her being dead—"

  "So I stretched the truth a little."

  "A little? You lied to me!"

  "I had to. I mean, think about it. If I'd told you Allen and his mom might be alive, but I just couldn't find them, you never would have signed on, right?"

  "I guess not. So, does this mean Allen is alive, too?"

  "I don't know yet. What I do know is that you better get your butt out of there asap. If Allen's mother can't reach me, she's liable to call there, and if she does—"

  "Yeah, I get the picture. I'm out of here. But, hey, what about my money?"

  "I'm sorry about that."

  "You're sorry? How the heck am I supposed to get home? Walk?"

  There was a click on the line. It might have been Burton hanging up. It might have been Ollie picking up. Ryan didn't wait to find out. He set down the Enterprise with a jolt that, on the real Starship, would have caused a state of Red Alert.

  Ryan scrambled into his clothes, his mind no longer sleepy but working at full speed, trying to work out an escape plan. He couldn't very well just walk out to the highway and start hitchhiking; Ollie was sure to notice. She and Kelley were going back to the city to visit Mr. Kurz sometime this morning; maybe he could ride with them. Halifax had a couple of playhouses, and the theater world was a small, inbred one. He was almost sure to come across somebody he'd worked with, somebody who'd help him get home.

  If he stuck around a little longer, it would also give him a chance to talk to Kelley. It was a risky business, though. If he delayed too long, Allen's mother might call, and then the cat would be out of the bag. The fat would be in the fire. The jig would be up. If there was just some way he could make sure no phone calls came in …

  Well, there was one way. It was probably highly illegal, but so what? He'd done so many illegal things already, he might as well be hanged for a sheep as for a lamb.

  He slid the chair from under the doorknob and cautiously opened the door. The house was quiet. Ryan crept down the hall, inched the patio door open, and stepped outsid
e. For once, luck was on his side. There was nobody in sight. Even better, Sandy had left his bag of gardening tools sitting on the wall that surrounded the flower bed. Ryan pocketed a pair of pruning shears.

  He had no trouble finding the phone junction box. The hard part was getting up the nerve to do the deed. Taking a deep breath, he snipped the wires, then replaced the pruning shears and returned to the kitchen, where Kelley was making waffles. "Hi," she said, brightly. "Want one?"

  His stomach said no, but his brain said he should eat while he had the chance. He had a long trip ahead of him and no money. "Sure."

  "Did you get your phone call okay?"

  "Yeah." He could have made up some plausible story about who was calling, but he had no stomach for that, either.

  "There's no problem or anything, is there?"

  "No. Why do you ask?"

  "You just look kind of down. You know, if you want to talk about anything, I'll listen. That's what sisters are for, right?"

  He wished she'd stop saying that. He wished she'd quit being so nice, too. That just made it harder for him to tell her. Too bad she wasn't really his sister; then she'd have to forgive him, eventually. But, of course, if she were really his sister, there'd be nothing to tell.

  Kelley pried the waffles out of the waffle maker and passed them to him. "There you go." As she sat down, her elbow bumped the answering machine. "Ow!" She knocked it aside, then pulled it to her instead and looked it over critically. "I wish I knew how to fix things." She tried pushing the Play button. There was another one of those silences, and the sound of someone hanging up. "Strange."

  Ryan stared at the waffle. He couldn't bring himself to take a single bite, not until he got this weight off his chest. "Stranger than you think," he said.

  She looked up at him with a quizzical smile. "What do you mean?"

  Before he could explain anything, the machine beeped again, and this time a male voice said, "Dad? This is Allen."

  Ryan sat paralyzed. He knew he should grab the machine and shut it off, but he just didn't seem to have the strength. Kelley appeared to be frozen, too, as if the words were some kind of magic spell.

  "I don't know why I'm calling," the voice continued. "Mom didn't want me to. But the ad said it was urgent." It wasn't the nasal, nerdy sort of voice Ryan had imagined and imitated. It was a lot like Kelley's voice—pleasant, soft, a bit shy.

  Kelley kept staring at the machine, her eyes wide. If she turned that look on him, Ryan felt he couldn't bear it.

  Allen went on talking. "She did call the number in the paper, but the guy was out of town or something, so I made her tell me where you were and I—" And there the machine cut him off.

  As hard as it was—having to listen to Allen's voice—the silence that followed was worse. Finally, Kelley lifted her gaze from the machine. But instead of looking at Ryan, she was gazing in the direction of the doorway.

  Ryan twisted around on his stool and saw Ollie standing there, clutching the door frame with white-knuckled hands, as if trying to steady herself. For the first time since Ryan arrived, she was making no attempt to keep up her facade of grace and good cheer. Her raw emotions were all there, clearly displayed on her face, and Ryan didn't like what he saw.

  Chapter 25

  Like an actor getting into character, Ollie took a moment to compose herself before she spoke. "Well. I suppose you have some explanation for this."

  Ryan opened his mouth but could think of nothing sensible to say; he simply turned away. Unfortunately this put him face to face with Kelley. Almost in a whisper she said, "Allen?" There was a hopeful sound in her voice, as if she really expected him to clear up this little misunderstanding.

  It was the most difficult line he'd ever had to speak, but somehow he got it out. "I'm … I'm not Allen."

  The silence that followed seemed endless, like one of those awful moments onstage when you forget a line or miss a cue. It was shattered by Kelley, who sprang off her stool and sent it crashing to the tile floor. She ran blindly from the kitchen, one hand shielding her face, either to hide tears or to avoid looking at Ryan, or both.

  There was a bitter taste, a lot like Ollie's espresso, in his throat. He rose to go after Kelley, but her mother blocked his way. "You know," Ollie said, "I've suspected you all along."

  The smugness in her voice infuriated Ryan. "Then why didn't you say something?" he nearly shouted. "Because you enjoyed seeing me squirm?"

  "Of course not. I wanted to avoid upsetting Ken. And Kelley. But you've taken care of that."

  "So what do you plan to do now? Tie me to the waterbed and feed me jalapeno sandwiches?"

  She gave him a tolerant, maddening smile. "It's no worse than you deserve. But I think it's best if I leave it up to the police."

  Through his anger, Ryan felt a surge of panic. He headed for the door, making a wide detour around Ollie. She didn't try to stop him; instead, she sat and picked up the phone. Ryan couldn't resist throwing an exit line over his shoulder. "If you plan on calling the cops, you'll want to shout really loud."

  The smart thing to do would be to make for the woods that lay on the far side of the horse pasture. He could hide there. Even if the rcmp did come, they weren't going to mount a full-scale manhunt. It wasn't like he was a serial killer or something.

  But instead of running toward the woods, he headed for the stable, which made no sense. There was no way Kelley would want to talk to him now, or even listen. He might as well not bother.

  He entered the stable anyway. Kelley was throwing a blanket and a saddle on Winnie. Without pausing, she swiped her shirt sleeve across her eyes to clear them of tears. "Kelley!" Ryan said breathlessly.

  She gave him a startled look of disbelief, then went back to her task, tightening the cinch so fiercely that the mare swung her head around in surprise. "Go away! Whoever you are, just go away!"

  "I want to explain. Could you just listen for a minute?"

  She turned her tearful face toward him. "You don't have a minute! Mother will call the police! I know her!"

  "She can't. I cut the phone line."

  "You what?"

  "I didn't know what else to do! Look, if you'll just listen to me—"

  "Unless you can tell me you're really Allen, I don't want to hear it!" She backed the mare out of the stall so suddenly that Ryan had to jump aside.

  He reached out and grabbed the horse's bridle. "Kelley, will you just let me explain? My name is Ryan Waite. I'm an actor, and Burton hired me to—"

  "I said, I don't want to hear it!" Kelley shouted in his face. Abruptly she burst out crying. Letting go of the mare, she sank down in the straw with her face in her hands.

  Ryan stood over her helplessly, wanting to comfort her but not knowing how. The mare seemed to know better than he did; Winnie ducked her head and gently nudged Kelley's shoulder. Ryan knelt next to the girl and awkwardly put an arm around her shoulders. He expected her to push him away, but instead, she leaned into him, still sobbing, and buried her face in his sweater.

  Ryan said what he figured a brother might say. "I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. I didn't know it would turn out this way. Anyway, it's not so bad, right? I mean, it doesn't matter who I am, does it? Not anymore. Now you've got the real Allen, right?"

  "I don't know." Kelley's voice was muffled and shaky. "I don't know what's real anymore."

  "Well, I'm not, that's for sure. All I can do is pretend. You ought to be glad to get rid of me. I'd make a lousy brother, believe me."

  She wiped her face with her sleeve and looked up at him reproachfully. "I did believe you."

  "You believed me because you wanted to. That's how acting works."

  She pulled away from him. "So all the fun we had, all the stuff we talked about—it was all just part of the act?"

  "No. Not all of it. I really—" Ryan broke off, alarmed by a sound from outside the stable—the sound of a car coming up the driveway.

  Kelley sprang to her feet. "Oh, shoot! I told you she'd call the
police!"

  "How could she? I cut the wires!"

  "I don't—oh!" Kelley put a hand to her mouth. "The mobile phone!" she whispered. "In the car!"

  Ryan scrambled to the stable door and peered out. A vehicle with a light bar on top and the rcmp insignia on the door was pulling up in front of the house. "Oh, man! Now what do I do?"

  Kelley glanced around, then grabbed his arm. "Come on."

  "Where?" said Ryan. "There's no place I can hide. They'll just—" Kelley pushed him up against the mare's flank. "Oh, wait a second," he said. "You're not seriously—"

  She swung effortlessly into the saddle and held out a hand to him. "Come on! Climb up here!" When he hesitated, she said, "Do you want to get out of here, or not?"

  "Yeah, sure, but—"

  "Well, it's either ride or walk, and riding is a lot faster."

  She had a point. In any case, there was no time to argue. He took her hand, placed one foot in the stirrup, and swung aboard in a highly undignified manner. "Put your arms around my waist," Kelley ordered, "and hang on." She didn't have to tell him twice. "Not quite so tight!" she said breathlessly.

  "Sorry."

  "All right. Here we go." She wheeled the mare expertly and guided her out through the open door. The Mountie's car sat empty. "Guess he went inside," Kelley whispered. "Maybe we can sneak by." She urged Winnie to the gate and leaned down to unlatch it. Before she could do that, the patio door slid open and Ollie stepped out, accompanied by the Mountie.

  "There he is!" Ollie pointed an accusing finger at them.

  "Oh, shoot!" Kelley yanked at the reins. The mare shuffled backward and turned in a tight circle.

  "Hold it, there, you two!" the Mountie called.

  Kelley either didn't hear him or didn't care. Her heels bumped Ryan's shins as she dug them into Winnie's ribs. The mare sprang forward, almost unseating Ryan. They headed across the pasture, straight for the board fence—and Ryan saw no sign of another gate.

  "What are you doing?" he yelled into Kelley's ear.

  "Just hang on!" she called over her shoulder.

  "Surely you're not going to—" But it was obvious that she was, in fact, going to. Ryan wanted to say that he'd changed his mind, that he'd prefer to walk. But it was too late. All he could do was grit his teeth and lock his hands around Kelley's waist.