Mirror Image by Sandra Brown Read Free Book Online Page B

knew. Thus far, she hadn't arrived at a solution. As the days passed and her body healed, her anxiety increased. Everyone thought it was caused by the delay of her reconstructive operation.
    Finally, Tate announced one evening that her surgery had been scheduled for the next day. "All the doctors involved consulted this afternoon. They agreed that you're out of the danger zone. Sawyer issued the go-ahead. I came as soon as I was notified."
    She had until tomorrow to let him know that a dreadful mistake had been made. It was strange but, even though he was partially responsible for this tragic chain of events, she didn't blame him. Indeed, she had come to anticipate his visits. She felt safer somehow when he was with her.
    "I guess it's all right to tell you now that I didn't like Sawyer at first," he said, sitting gingerly on the edge of her bed. "Hell, I still don't like him, but I trust him. You know that he wouldn't be doing the operation if I didn't think he would do the best job."
    She believed that, so she blinked. "Are you afraid?" She blinked again.
    "Can't say that I blame you," he said grimly. "The next few weeks are going to be tough, Carole, but you'll get through them." His smile stiffened slightly. "You always land on your feet."
    "Mr. Rutledge?"
    When he turned his head toward the feminine voice who had spoken to him from the doorway, he provided Avery a rare view of his profile. Carole Rutledge had been a lucky woman.
    "You asked me to remind you about Mrs. Rutledge's jewelry," the nurse said. "It's still in the safe."
    Avery's mind quickened. She had envisioned him entering her room and dumping her jewelry onto the bed. "These aren't Carole's things," he would say. "Who are you?" But that scenario hadn't occurred. Maybe there was hope yet.
    "I keep forgetting to stop by the office and pick it up," he told the nurse with chagrin. "Could you possibly send somebody down to get it for me?"
    "I'll call down and check."
    "I'd appreciate that. Thank you."
    Avery's heart began to pound. She offered up a silent prayer of thanksgiving. Here, at the eleventh hour, she would be saved from disaster. Reconstructive surgery would have to be done to her face, but she would come out of it looking like Avery Daniels, and not someone else.
    "The jewelry won't do you much good in the operating room," Tate was saying, "but I know you'll feel better once your things are in my possession."
    In her mind, she was smiling hugely. It was going to be all right. The mistake would be discovered in plenty of time, and she could leave the emotional roller-coaster she had been riding behind.
    "Mr. Rutledge, I'm afraid it's against hospital regulations for anyone except the patient himself or next of kin to retrieve possessions from the safe. I can't send anyone down for it. I'm sorry."
    "No problem. I'll try to get down there sometime tomorrow."
    Avery's spirits plummeted. Tomorrow would be too late. She asked herself why God was doing this to her. Hadn't she been punished enough for her mistake? Would the rest of her life be an endless and futile endeavor to make up for one failure? She had already lost her credibility as a journalist, the esteem of her colleagues, her career status. Must she give up her identity, too?
    "There's something else, Mr. Rutledge," the nurse said hesitantly. "There are two reporters down the hall who want to speak with you."
    "Reporters?"
    "From one of the TV stations."
    "Here? Now? Did Eddy Paschal send them?"
    "No. That's the first thing I asked them. They're after a scoop. Apparently word has leaked out about Mrs. Rutledge's surgery tomorrow. They want to talk to you about the effect of the crash on your family and senatorial race. What should I tell them?"
    "Tell them to go to hell."
    "Mr. Rutledge, I can't."
    "No, you can't. If you did, Eddy would kill me," he muttered to himself. "Tell them that I'm not making any statements until my wife and daughter are drastically improved. Then, if they don't leave, call