The Identity Man by Andrew Klavan

Author:Andrew Klavan
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Mystery & Detective, Fiction, Urban Life, Suspense fiction, Fugitives from justice, Thrillers, Mystery fiction, General, Identity (Psychology)
ISBN: 9780547243283
Publisher: Houghton Mifflin Harcourt
Published: 2010-09-15T00:36:03+00:00

At last, the sculpture was nearly done.

He was putting the finishing touches on it. He had the new head sitting on the dowel, fixed to the body. He was standing over it, brushing at it with sandpaper before gluing it all together and working the angel's robes to hide the join.

"Oh! It's beautiful, Henry!" He hadn't heard Teresa come out of the house, but there she was, standing behind him. "It's better than the original. Even my father says so. It's incredible."

He glanced over his shoulder at her, then turned and faced her. She was wearing jeans and one of those scoop-necked T-shirts, a lavender one that looked good against her skin. She was standing with her hands folded in front of her. Her eyes were bright. He couldn't answer her because of the way she was looking at the angel and the way it made him feel: too filled up to speak. He wanted to take hold of her and feel her soft shoulders in his hands. He thought if he couldn't take hold of her, he would go up in smoke.

Her bright eyes shifted to him. She began to say something and then stopped and then said, "You have a real gift, Henry."

He looked back at the angel. He touched its cheek with a knuckle. It looked at him. Henry, he thought, ashamed. She didn't even know who he was.

"It's just something I can do," he said. "I always could."

They were silent and awkward, facing each other in front of the altarpiece.

"Will we ever see you again when it's done?" she asked him suddenly.

"What? Sure. What do you mean?"

"I mean, you won't just go away, will you? When you're finished with the work. You won't just stop coming here."

He was standing there like a kid now, his heart fluttering inside him as if he were a kid. "I guess not. I don't know. I'll be around."

"It's just ... it's Michael, you know—it meant so much to him having you here."

"Sure," said Shannon. "He likes to have a guy around. He misses his dad. I know."

"It's not just that. It's you. He thinks you're great. We all ... my father, too. We all think you're great."

"Yeah, but I'm not," said Shannon with an uncomfortable laugh. He had to say this. With the angel looking at him, he felt compelled. "I'm not great. I'm not even really any good." He laughed again. He wished he could stop telling her these things, but he couldn't.

Teresa shrugged, smiling. "Well ... who is, right? Any good."

"Yeah. Right. Well, not me, that's for sure. I mean, it makes me feel ... bad, Teresa, you know? That you might think—that Michael might think—that I was something I wasn't. I mean, I haven't told you some of the bad things I've done. And there's a lot of them, too, believe me."

"Everybody's done bad things, Henry. You don't have to tell me."

My name's not even Henry, he wanted to say, but he didn't, he couldn't. "Yeah, but I mean his dad, Michael's dad, your husband, Carter .

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