Trading Places

by Fern Michaels

Nathan reached for her hand. “This is what you have to do. We run really fast so we kind of plop into the puddle and the water shoots up in every direction. You got it?”

  Lizzie wondered how she looked with her head soaked and her clothes plastered to her body. Nathan looked good. Messy but good. “Hey, I was a master jumper in my kid days. Okay, I’m ready!”

  Off they went, skimming down the street to a huge puddle at the curb. Lizzie hit it first, the dirty water rocketing upward to soak Nathan’s pale blue shirt. Nathan made a bigger splash because he was wearing loafers. Lizzie laughed with glee. So did Nathan. They spun around, stomped the water until the puddle was just a trickle of water.

  Alice barked. They ignored her until the barking became more frenzied. Over and above the sound of the pouring rain Lizzie could hear the sound of a car accelerating. It didn’t sound right to her ears, and unless she was wrong, it was bearing down on them at an ungodly rate of speed for a quiet neighborhood street. When she looked over her shoulder, horror spread across her face.

  “Hit the deck!” she screamed. She knew that Nathan was alongside her as she made a flying dive for a patch of grass at the end of the sidewalk. Nathan was half on top of her, the other half of him on the grass. He was so close she could smell his minty breath. She raised her head to see if the car would make a second run at them. All she could see were two dots of red from the taillights as it careened down the street in the pouring rain.

  Alice trembled as she pressed her snout into Lizzie’s neck to make sure she was all right.

  “That bastard jumped the curb, and don’t try telling me he skidded either,” Nathan bellowed, the words literally exploding from his mouth.

  “Why would I tell you something stupid like that?” Lizzie gasped.

  “Did you get a license number?”

  “No. It happened too quick, a dark car, older model. That’s all I saw.”

  “They’re trying to kill you, aren’t they?”

  “Yeah. Yeah, they are. Come on, let’s go home. Thank God for…Gus. If he hadn’t barked, that bastard would have run us over.”

  Lying on the ground, Nathan had a clear view of Alice’s underbelly. “I thought Gus was a boy dog.”

  Oh shit! “Nope. Gus is short for Augusta. It’s that macho guy thing. None of the handlers wanted a female. Not manly, that kind of thing. We told everyone her name was Gustav. Hey, it worked. You’re the only outsider who knows, so don’t go blabbing, okay?” Liar, liar, pants on fire.

  “Yeah, sure. I’ve always heard females are more protective.”

  “You heard right. Are you okay, Nathan?”

  “A little bruised, but I’ll be fine. How about you? That looked like a pretty hard dive you took. Aren’t your bones still kind of fragile?” He looked worried.

  She was limping as she walked along. “I landed mostly on the grass. Skinned knees and elbows, that’s about it. Gus is okay, too. I think it’s safe to say we both owe this dog our lives.”

  Nathan nodded. “I’ll buy him a big T-bone. It looked like a Honda to me. Do you have a mental image of it? You’re more trained for that than I.”

  Lizzie looked up at him, an expression of weariness on her face. She shook her head. “It was raining too hard. Just a dark-colored car that looked a little old. It could have been a Honda. There are probably a million Hondas in Atlanta, half of them dark in color. Perfect family car, good mileage, low to nonexistent maintenance, dependable. Half the force has one. Home never looked so good,” she muttered as she limped her way up the steps to the front porch.

  On the porch, she turned around to look at the reporter. “Nathan, you’re pretty muddy. If you want, you can take my car to go home for clean clothes. You can pick up dinner on your way back. I’ll drive you to the station later to pick up your car.”

  “Good idea.”

  Lizzie tossed him the keys.

  Inside Aggie’s cozy house, Lizzie slumped against the front door and started to shake. She would have dropped to the floor and cried her misery if Alice hadn’t started to shake with cold. She quickly righted herself and ran to the laundry room, where she found a towel and tossed it in the microwave oven to warm it up. She wrapped the big dog in the towel the moment the buzzer sounded. She swore later that Alice sighed with relief. “Down, baby,” she said softly. When the shepherd obeyed her and dropped to the throw rug in front of the dryer, she covered her with more towels. Satisfied that her companion was now all right, she stripped off her own clothes. She would have to toss out Aggie’s gray suit and buy her another one. “Stay, Alice. I’m going to shower. I’ll be right back.”

  Fifteen minutes later, Lizzie was back downstairs, dressed in a yellow sweat suit and fuzzy, purple slippers. Where does Aggie get these clothes? She blinked in surprise when she felt a rush of warm air on her feet. The heat had kicked on. That had to mean the temperature outside was dropping. “Crazy springtime,” she muttered to the dog, who was wiggling to get near the vent. Aggie had predicted that she would fall in love with the dog. She shuddered. God, what if she turned into a clone of Aggie and got all domestic. She crossed her fingers that she wouldn’t get a desire to plant organic carrots.

  Aggie looked at the laptop on the kitchen table. Should she e-mail Aggie and tell her about Dutch, Nathan Hawk, and the attempt on her life? Of course she should. Would Aggie then forget about her organic carrots and return home? Better not to tell her just yet. She moved the laptop to the kitchen counter so that it was out of her line of sight.

  Lizzie could feel her stomach muscles start to cramp up. “I’m not scared. I really am not scared,” she muttered as she prepared a pot of coffee. Bull SHIT! Her hands were shaking so badly, she spilled coffee grounds all over the counter. Spilling coffee grounds was like cleaning up a broken egg from the floor. It took forever. She decided to ignore the mess, opting to sit down on her hands.

  She thought about her colorful life and what she hoped to do in the future. It could all come to an end if she wasn’t careful. Think Plan B. She almost jumped out of her skin when the phone rang. Should she answer it? She was supposed to be a cop, so she had to answer it. She barked a greeting.

  “You ain’t gonna be so lucky next time, dee-techtive!” Lizzie slammed the phone back into place. Her gaze went to the dripping coffeepot, to the spilled coffee grounds on the counter and the floor, to the three dead bolts, and then to the cookie jar in the shape of a big green frog with red-painted lips that sat on the counter. Aggie loved frogs. At one time, before the ransacking, there had been at least fifty frogs scattered about. The cookie jar was the only one that remained. Don’t think about the phone call, she told herself. Go about your business. They’re trying to scare you. They’re succeeding. She moaned.

  The phone rang again just as Lizzie finished sweeping up the coffee grounds and wiping down the counter. She ran into the living room for the whistle on the coffee table. She stuck it in her mouth, prepared to blow as hard as she could when she heard her friend Noreen’s voice. She deflated like a bellows. “Hi,” she said, mustering all the cheeriness she could into her voice.

  “The airline just called, Lizzie, and canceled our flight tomorrow afternoon. They’re putting us on a flight that leaves at the crack of dawn. I hired a car service, so there’s no need for you to pick us up. We should be on your doorstep around three or threethirty tomorrow. We’re counting the hours. Girl time!”

  “I can’t wait either, Noreen. Okay, I’ll see you all tomorrow. Hey, guess what. I got a dog!”

  “No kidding. Now I’m really excited. I love dogs! Do you want us to bring you anything like Cisco candies or something else? You said you don’t get to shop much and I know how you love candy, especially Cisco.”

  “Nope. Just yourselves. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Wonder of wonders, her hands weren’t shaking anymore.

  She felt more like Lizzie Jade when she returned to the kitchen, the whistle secure around her neck. She peeked in at Alice, who was sleeping soundly by the vent, the war
m air ruffling the fur on her neck. The smile stayed with her when she returned to the kitchen to pour her coffee. Now she could sit and appreciate Aggie’s cozy kitchen. Her mind wandered to Nathan Hawk. What would it be like to sit across from him eating dinner? He said he had a thing for Aggie. Aggie and her background was one thing. How would he react to her own background if he ever found out she wasn’t Aggie? She was two for three as it was—a gambler in her own right, and she was impersonating a police officer. Plan B. All she had to do was remember that she had Plan B in place.

  Lizzie leaned back in the oak chair and propped her feet on the opposite one. She stared at the fuzzy, purple slippers, wondering if there was any special significance to them other than warmth. She herself liked bright colors. She loved anything that sparkled and shimmered. Aggie, on the other hand, was conservative in her dress, leaning toward gray, beige, and black. It must be a cop thing. The yellow sweats and purple slippers were personal at-home attire. She’d seen her sister’s party-slash-date ensembles, which consisted mainly of the little basic black dress that could be jazzed up with a sparkling pin or a string of pearls, even a brilliant-colored sash. Aggie was hardly a trendsetter. Aggie would never wear slingbacks, preferring pumps. Lizzie shook her head at such a conservative mode of dress.

  How attached was Aggie to this little house? She wished suddenly that she knew more about her sister’s life in Atlanta. In the last few years their relationship had been reduced to a few phone calls on the run every few months. They did try to get together over the holidays, but it didn’t always work. She regretted that now.

  That didn’t mean she had to live with those regrets. Everything was fixable if you worked at it hard enough. Maybe it was a twin thing that other people didn’t understand. Whatever it was, a thought, a sentence, a feeling, one or the other could finish it off. How many times had she called Aggie only to have her sister say, I was just about to call you. On more than one occasion when she hadn’t been able to sleep, she’d call Aggie to find her sister wide-awake, too. They would talk about whatever was troubling them, sometimes for hours. And, she always felt better when she hung up. Aggie said she felt the same way.

  When they were younger they would always creep into one another’s beds after their mother kissed them good night and closed the door. The best part, though, was the sharing. They shared their joys, their sorrows, their highs, and their lows. Always there for one another.

  Lizzie struggled to take a full, deep breath. How could she not have known about Aggie’s accident? How? Was she so wrapped up in her own crazy life that she’d excluded her sister? No. Yes. Well, that wasn’t going to happen ever again. When this was all over, she was going to make sure she got even closer, physically and emotionally, to her twin. When this was over. She felt herself wince at the words.

  Lizzie looked around. In her heart of hearts, Aggie was a homebody. It was a shame that she didn’t have a nine-to-five job so she could cook, clean, and bake the way she liked to do. Aggie should have a husband and a houseful of kids. Obviously, she had given a lot of thought to the kitchen. To Lizzie’s mind, it shrieked Aggie’s name. The cabinets were a light-colored knotty pine and matched the wood floor almost perfectly. There were no scratches or black heel marks, so that meant Aggie, on her time off, took care of the floor. She probably spent a lot of time out here at her little built-in desk next to the refrigerator.

  She clearly remembered the day Aggie had called and was so elated that she had been able to find tartan-colored curtains, seat cushions, and place mats that matched, saying she had an umbrella and gym bag that were of the same pattern. She’d said, “This is just what my little kitchen needs.” She was right. Lizzie wondered how long it had taken her to find them. Probably a long time because Aggie wasn’t the type to settle for second best.

  Lizzie was pouring her second cup of coffee when the phone rang again. She positioned the whistle and said, hello.

  “How you doing, sweet cheeks?”

  Lizzie winced. She could identify Anthony Popadopolus’s voice in a crowded room of a thousand people. To her, his voice sounded like it was a mixture of gravel and molasses. “I’m the same as I was the last time we talked. I still can’t leave here, Anthony. My sister needs me. You have a date for me? Well, yes, I did say at least two weeks, maybe longer. You don’t have to remind me about our contract. I would be remiss if I didn’t tell you there might be a bug on this phone. My sister’s a cop. I think we talked about that. I’ll call you later on a cell phone. No, Anthony, I’m not trying to put you off. I’m erring on the side of caution. Well, it’s raining here right now. The temperature dropped, too. We might make a fire tonight and either toast some marshmallows or make popcorn. Corny? Sometimes, Anthony, you need to do things like that to get your perspective back. Yes, of course I’ll call you.”

  Lizzie hung up the phone. Damn, now her hands were shaking again. She was sitting on her hands, her coffee growing cold. She looked up when a shadow passed the kitchen window. She sucked in her breath and didn’t exhale until she heard Nathan Hawk call her name. Alice was at the door before she could get there. This time she didn’t growl, but her tail dropped between her legs, which meant, beware of me.

  His arms loaded with Chinese takeout, Nathan looked down at Alice, and said, “What a good dog you are.” Alice cocked her head to the side, sniffed, and went back to her cocoon in front of the heating vent. “Maybe she’s warming up to me. Listen, I forgot to ask you what you wanted, so I pretty much got some of everything. The worst-case scenario is you’ll be eating it for a week, in which case you can invite me over and I’ll help you eat it. I love leftover Chinese.”

  Lizzie laughed. He’s flirting with me. She realized it was a pleasant experience. He looked even better than he did before. He’d changed into creased jeans and a navy blue Nike tee shirt with a matching navy windbreaker.

  “Oh, you brought popcorn, marshmallows, and beer. Guess we’re going to do that fire after all. Did it get colder?”

  “It’s a lot colder. I had the radio on on the way over. They said it was going to go down to around forty-eight this evening. To me, that’s cold.”

  “That’s cold to me, too. Do you want to eat in the living room? I have some stack tables. I can set us up if you make the fire.”

  Nathan looked around. “You look like an Easter egg. Where’s the wood?”

  She looked down at the yellow and purple she was wearing and supposed it was a compliment. “Thank you. You look particularly dashing. There’re some birch logs in the woodbox on the back porch. You should bring in a stack. By the way, I had a threatening phone call while you were gone. Unfortunately, the whistle was in the other room, and I couldn’t get to it in time.”

  Nathan stopped in his tracks. “What did they say?”

  “They said I wouldn’t be so lucky next time. The voice called me, dee-tech-tive. Do you know anything about surveillance bugs?”

  “A little. Why? I thought you’d disabled the bugs?”

  Lizzie nodded. “I put cellophane around them. There’s one in my car, too.”

  “Shouldn’t you tell the cops? Your chief? Someone?”

  “I’m a cop, remember. I just told someone, you. You aren’t going dumb on me, are you, Hawk? Who do you think put those bugs here and in my car? Who do you think ransacked my house?”

  “Cops!”

  Lizzie clenched her teeth so hard she thought her jaw was going to crack in two. “Who else?”

  Nathan opened the back door and went out to the porch. The minute he stepped back inside, Lizzie hit the three dead bolts. She trailed behind him into the living room, Alice on her heels.

  “Who’s that tall guy you hang out with?”

  Lizzie didn’t pretend not to understand the question. “Do you mean Dr. Alex Rossiter? He’s a friend. We aren’t involved if that’s what you’re asking. Are you seeing anyone special?” She wanted the question to sound crafty, but it just came out as inquisitive. A tit-for-tat kind of thing.
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  “Surprise! Surprise! I’m not seeing anyone, and I’m not involved with anyone. That means you and I could…if we wanted…as in…”

  “Date? I don’t see why not. First you have to ask me for a date. I think that’s the way it’s done.” Lizzie started to giggle. God, when was the last time I giggled? Never, that’s when, she answered herself.

  Ten minutes later, Nathan dusted off his hands and took a step backward to better observe his handiwork. “Okay. Now, that’s what I call a blaze. I used to be an Eagle Scout,” he said proudly.

  “Fancy that. I used to be a Girl Scout,” Lizzie lied. She motioned to the corner. “You sit on the recliner. This big chair is for me and Gus. He’ll never let you sit next to me.”

  “That might develop into a problem later on if we hit it off.”

  “You sound like you have some doubts.” Lizzie sniffed.

  Nathan looked pointedly at the nine millimeter Glock sitting on the table next to Lizzie’s chair. “I never dated anyone who packed heat. I’m thinking it could get awkward. Like what if the damn thing went off and shot off my…well, what if it went off unexpectedly.” His face was red, and he was dithering. The thought pleased Lizzie.