No One Lives Twice (A Lexi Carmichael Mystery)

by Julie Moffett

  “What’s predictable about that?” Xavier asked.

  “They all want to find Judyta. The difficult part is including the unknowns, like someone deciding to shoot or stop me along the way, or planes, trains or natural disasters putting the timing off. So, I’ll weight that with a twenty percent margin of error.” I took a moment to calculate that in my head and marked it down. “Then, taking into account all the known and unknown variables, I have a forty-three point eight percent chance of success in getting all parties to meet in Sweden at the same time. Not great, but doesn’t suck either.”

  The twins studied it thoughtfully. “Quantum bogodynamics,” Xavier said.

  “Optimum,” Elvis added.

  I let out a deep breath. I always felt better when my world was defined by the rigid logic of mathematics, even if some of the variables were rather questionable.

  “So, I’m thinking that we send an ‘invitation’ to some of the players, sort of like how you brought Slash into this in the first place,” I continued. “The others I’ll bring to the party myself. They’re watching and following me, so presumably they’ll go everywhere I go. Then, boom, we’ve got everyone together who has an interest in this thing. That’s when I’ll start the auction.”

  Elvis raised an eyebrow. “Auction?”

  “An information auction. Those willing to put information on the table regarding their reasons for wanting to find Judyta might get some information in return. I can’t begin to figure out how to best help Judyta until I know what all her options are. That includes knowing what each group plans to do with the baby if she births it successfully.”

  “Do you intend to bring Basia to the table, too?” Xavier asked.

  “Absolutely. She’s critical as she’ll be representing Judyta in all this.”

  “How are you going to bring her here if she’s in hiding somewhere in Sweden?”

  I considered for minute. “I don’t bring her anywhere,” I finally said. “I’m going to take everyone else to her.”

  I saw the twins’ eyes widen, but I could tell each of them was weighing the odds, and calculating the risk.

  “So you bring all these groups together,” Xavier said slowly. “What will stop them from shooting you or each other the moment they show up at this unexpected information auction?”

  “Because they all want the same thing—Judyta Taszynski. I’m not saying it will be pretty, but I think at the very least I’ll be safe as long as the NSA is present.”

  “But you can’t entirely trust the U.S. government,” Elvis pointed out. “You have no idea what they want with Judyta. Will they permit her to birth the clone? And if so, will they want to study it, dissect it or eliminate it? Or possibly all of the above.”

  I shivered. “I know. It’s risky as hell. Do you guys have any other ideas?”

  The twins shook their heads and I nodded. “We go ahead. I’ve got a feeling we don’t have much time. Judyta and Basia are not going to be able to avoid such a determined search for much longer. We have to put things into play while we still have the advantage.”

  “All right, I’m with you so far,” Elvis said. “Details?”

  I had already chewed my thumbnail to the quick, so I started on my pointer finger. My mind raced with possibilities as I determined, adjusted and discarded ideas.

  “Okay, the key here is surprise,” I finally said. “I don’t want it to be too obvious that I know what I’m doing. So let’s say I pretend to give those U.S. government agencies watching me the slip and head for Basia in Sweden. They already know she and Judyta are hiding there, so as soon as I disappear, that’s the first place they’ll look. Since I have no official training as an agent, my pathetic attempts at avoiding detection will naturally seem amateur.”

  “They will be amateur,” Elvis pointed out.

  “True,” I said. “And all the better for me, I guess. The point is I want the U.S. government to follow me, but I don’t want them to know I’m leading them.”

  “All right, keep going,” Elvis said. “Presuming that you are able to bring the U.S. side to this illusory table of yours, how do you intend to bring along someone like Rashid Bouker?”

  “Clearly I’ll need to tip off Bouker somehow,” I said. “He’s critical to the plan because we have to figure out how Yemeni intelligence plays into this. We’ll have to fashion his invitation carefully. I’ll have to drop a clue, provide a tantalizing intelligence tidbit. You know, something subtle like that.”

  “I’m sure I’ll be able to do that,” Elvis said quickly. “It shouldn’t be too difficult to hack into the embassy network and fabricate a piece of information to pass along to Yemeni intelligence.”

  “Jeez, hack into an embassy computer?” I said, shaking my head. “No freaking way. I’ve already led you guys far enough down the path to perdition. I’m a small fish, but both you guys have important reputations and brilliant minds to protect. Besides, this isn’t your fight.”

  “The hell it’s not,” Xavier interjected angrily. “We helped Slash break into CGM, so that means we’re already up to our necks in this situation.”

  “Still, it’s not too late to back out. I appreciate you all serving as my sounding boards, but I really can’t ask you to do any more.”

  “He’s right, Lexi,” Elvis said quietly. “We’re in to stay. Save your breath on the arguments. Deal the cards and let us play our hands, too.”

  A lump formed in my throat. “Are you guys sure about this? It’s not going to be pretty whichever way it turns out.”

  “We’re good to go,” Elvis said. “So let’s get on with it.”

  Touched by his steadfastness, I threw my arms around him and gave him a big hug. When I pulled away, his face had turned bright red.

  “Did I squeeze too hard?” I asked. “Lars said I was a natural at karate. Perhaps I don’t know my own strength.”

  He shook his head quickly and Xavier laughed.

  “Well, you guys are the best friends I’ve ever had besides Basia,” I said, sniffling.

  “Um, we’re your only friends besides Basia,” Xavier pointed out.

  “That’s true. Still, I don’t know how to thank you for everything.”

  “I’m sure Elvis could think of a way,” Xavier said under his breath, and Elvis turned even redder. Before Xavier could speak again, Elvis smacked his brother on the side of the head.

  “No more fooling around,” Elvis said sternly. “We’re far from done here. We’ve yet to discuss Finn Shaughnessy’s role in all this.”

  Indeed. And this was a much harder call to make, primarily because I was unusually attracted to him. We’d made some sort of weird connection, and I didn’t understand it, let alone need my judgment clouded by such a nebulous variable.

  “Finn,” I sighed. “Truthfully, I think he’d be safer out of the loop at this point. I don’t see him on CGM’s side, but something about him doesn’t add up for me, either. Perhaps the best course of action is to simply disappear without informing him of anything. Leave him in an operational blackout. That way, on the slim chance he is actually helping CGM, he’s kept in the dark. If he’s just a victim, then he can continue to remain blissfully ignorant.”

  “I agree,” Elvis said just a little too quickly, and for a moment, I thought I heard a note of relief in his voice. Jeez, for some reason, he really had it in for Finn.

  “Okay, it works for me, too,” Xavier said. “But if something doesn’t add up with Finn Shaughnessy, then it’s time to find out what it is. If he’s got a secret, I’ll find it.”

  I didn’t doubt that for a second. “Well, there’s one more thing, guys,” I said. “I’ll need at least three or four minutes alone with Basia before the gathering starts so I can clue her in to what’s going on. Without my warning she might inadvertently play our hand too early.”

  “That’s going to be a tough one,” Elvis said. “Once you disappear, the U.S. will most likely be in full cooperation with Swedish authorities and might detain
you the second you land in Sweden.”

  “Unlikely. Remember, I’m just a dumb kid. They want to watch me, not stop me. They’re more likely to put a surveillance team on me, never suspecting I might notice such a team in the first place. And even if I did, they certainly wouldn’t think I’d be able to ditch them.”

  “As long as you keep the element of surprise on your side.”

  I nodded. “Yes. It’s painfully obvious that the critical piece in all this is timing. I figure we’ll need at least a week to detail all the operation’s plans. That way we’ll have everyone in place, exactly where we want them, when I pull out my trump card.”

  “And that trump card will be?” Xavier asked.

  I leaned forward, my determination growing. “The ultimate prize, of course. The whereabouts of Judyta Taszynski.”

  Chapter 13

  Before I could say another word, the doorbell rang. “You expecting company?” I asked the twins with a raised eyebrow.

  Elvis stood, shaking his head and heading for the door. Xavier and I followed, looking over Elvis’s shoulder.

  I guess I should have been surprised to see Lars Anderson standing there, but I wasn’t. Maybe I had just used up all the shock my nerves were capable of in one day.

  He seemed even taller outside the confines of the karate studio and wore a blinding white T-shirt, a pair of white shorts and tennis shoes. His bulging muscular arms were crossed against his chest. The man looked like a country club tennis pro instead of a Swedish karate instructor.

  “Hey, Lexi,” he said, ignoring the twins and looking straight at me. “I saw your car parked in the driveway. I need to speak to you right away.”

  I wondered if he always drove around town looking in driveways for other people’s cars, but figured now wasn’t the time to ask.

  “Hey, karate man,” I said, stepping past Elvis and onto the porch. “Thanks for passing on my number to Basia. She called.”

  “I know. That’s why I have to speak with you.”

  “So, speak.”

  Lars narrowed his eyes. “Alone.”

  To my surprise, Elvis stepped in front of me. “Say what you have to say right here. She’s not going anywhere with you.”

  Lars bristled. “Back off, geek. This is for her ears only.”

  Elvis stiffened and Xavier stepped forward to stand beside his brother.

  Sensing an unwelcome rise in testosterone, I held up a hand. “Whoa, back up just a minute, everyone.” When no one moved, I frowned. “I mean it. All of you stand down.” Jeez, the last thing I needed right now was a pissing match.

  “Look, it’s okay,” I reassured the twins. “Let me talk to him alone. I’ll be right over there in the driveway.”

  The guys all glared at each other for another moment and then Lars stalked off toward his car. I followed him across the lawn to the driveway where his sky-blue Ford Mustang was parked next to my Miata.

  “What’s up?” I asked.

  Lars reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He handed it to me without a word.

  “What? No small talk?” I quipped.

  “Just read it,” he answered. Evidently he wasn’t in the mood for humor. I opened the note and scanned the brief, scrawled message.

  Meet me on the Island of Djurgarden near Stockholm this Monday at 11:30 p.m. Come alone. Wait by the front entrance of the Nordiska Museet (Nordic Museum). I’ll find you. Basia

  “Is this some kind of joke?” I said, looking up incredulously at Lars. “This isn’t her handwriting.”

  “No, it’s mine. Memorize it.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me. Memorize it. I’ll give you fifteen seconds.” And with that, he pulled a lighter out of his pocket and flicked it on.

  “Jesus H. Christ,” I cried. “You’re nuts!”

  “Ten seconds.”

  Panicked, I glanced back at the paper and committed the information to memory just as Lars snatched it out of my hand and held the lighter to it. He waited until the flames licked his fingers before letting what was left of the paper flutter to the ground where he stomped it into ashes.

  “What’s with all the drama?” I demanded. “Been watching too many reruns of Mission Impossible or something?”

  “Just be there,” he said, turning away.

  “Wait,” I said, grabbing his arm. “I’m actually formulating a plan right now to help her. Can you get her another message?”

  “She’s not scheduled to contact me until next Thursday,” he said. “Sorry.”

  “That’s not good,” I said, starting to panic. “Monday is too soon. I need more time. Please, Lars, it’s urgent.”

  He looked at me for a long moment. “I’d do it if I could, Lexi,” he finally said, and for some reason, I believed him. “She’s really going to be out of contact until Thursday.”

  I started to breathe faster. “Oh, man. This isn’t good. You’ve got to tell me how you’re connected to Basia.”

  “That’s up to her,” he said, climbing into the Mustang and turning the key in the ignition. “Good luck.”

  He sped away, leaving me standing there in his dust. I watched him until the car faded out of sight. Then, utilizing all the cuss words I knew, which sadly weren’t that many, I returned to the twins’ house.

  Xavier and Elvis stood stoically on the porch. “What was that all about?” Elvis asked, frowning.

  “I’ve just had the timeline moved up. Lars said Basia contacted him and she wants me to meet her in Sweden on Monday night.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “This Monday? It’s already Saturday.”

  “I know. I told him I needed more time. But he says he won’t be in contact with her until Thursday. I don’t dare miss the meeting in case we don’t have another opportunity.”

  “Do you trust Lars?” Elvis asked.

  “Basia said I should. And he did pass on my number to her. I guess that means he’s on the up and up.”

  “Why is he helping her?” Xavier said, leaning against the porch railing.

  “I wish I knew. He’s not talking and I don’t think Basia wanted to give it away over the phone. It’s not like I enjoy trusting him blindly, but at this point I don’t see how I have another choice.”

  “Then you’ve got to get to Sweden by Monday night,” Elvis said resolutely. “That means you leave ASAP.”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, you can’t simply fly to Sweden from here. It would be too obvious,” Xavier said.

  “I know. That’s why I’m not going to fly from the States.”

  “You’re not?”

  “Nope. I’m going to go out of Canada. It’s possible the NSA will be electronically monitoring the airports there, but it’s also possible they won’t. Either way, it seems like a sensible, if not amateur, attempt to get to Sweden, all the while pretending to throw everyone off track.”

  “Not bad,” Elvis admitted. “But it means you’ll have to start out tonight and essentially drive all night. And that means we have a lot to do before you leave.”

  For the next several hours the twins and I hammered out all the operational details of our plan. I would never have been able to pull it off alone but with the twins on my side, at least I had a fighting chance. There was no question it was risky and had a better than good chance of failure, but it was the best we could do on short notice. And if everything went exactly as planned, it might actually work.

  I left their house just before five o’clock and noticed a dark blue sedan I’d never seen parked on the street about three houses over. The driver didn’t seem to be trying to hide. I would have gladly bet my thong underwear he was FBI surveillance. Guess they had advanced from discreet to overt surveillance. I drove home with the dark sedan tailing me. The phone in my kitchen was ringing when I walked in, but instead of answering it, I immediately unplugged it. The cell phone was still turned off. I couldn’t risk talking to Finn or Slash at this point. Anyone else would just have to wait.


  I tossed my keys on the counter and was heading for the bedroom when there was a knock at the door. I froze and then crept to the peephole. Slash stood there, his thick arms crossed against his chest. He wore an olive-green T-shirt, black shorts and sandals. His dark hair had been slicked back behind his ears, and his shades were still on.

  Crap. He was the last person I wanted to see right now. I silently moved away from the peephole and leaned back against the wall.

  “Lexi, open the door,” he demanded. “I just saw you go inside.”

  “Go away. No one is home.”

  “I need to talk to you.”

  “I’m not in the talking mood.”

  “It’s important, cara.”

  I thought about walking back to my bedroom and refusing him entrance. He’d bypass my alarm and come in anyway. Sighing, I opened the door a crack but didn’t invite him in.

  “What do you want?” I asked.

  “Forgive me, cara, but I am worried about you. Why aren’t you answering your phones?”

  “Maybe I didn’t feel like talking to anyone.”

  He frowned. “I need to know you’re safe.”

  “So now you know. Goodbye.”

  I tried to close the door, but he wedged his foot in, blocking me. “Basia called you,” he said.

  I stopped trying to close the door and leaned against it. “Yes. And since I’m apparently bugged to high heaven, I knew you’d find out.”

  “You are angry with me. What happened? Do you no longer trust me?”

  “Did I ever?”

  “I’d like to think so. Please, may I come in?”

  I sighed and then, against my better judgment, I opened the door and let him in. He followed me to the kitchen, where I leaned against the wall, my arms crossed against my chest. He stood too, leaning back against the sink. We stared at each other like two gunslingers ready to square off in the middle of Main Street, but neither of us made the first move.