Identical Stranger

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by Alice Sharpe




  A woman identical to her is missing.

  Will she be next?

  Private investigator Jackson Travers swears he’s located his best friend’s missing wife, but Sophie Sparrow is not Sabrina Cromwell, even if she looks identical to the woman in Jack’s photo. When Sophie is nearly killed, Jack wonders if it’s a case of mistaken identity. Can he uncover the truth before Sophie—and her missing doppelgänger—end up dead?

  “The first time we met I thought you were someone else,” Jack said in a soft, sexy voice that reverberated inside of Sophie.

  “What was really confusing was that to me, at that time, you were my best friend’s wife, who I’d always thought pretty but distant. And then suddenly you’d grown warm and desirable. It really shook me. I can’t tell you what a relief it was when you turned out to be...well, you.”

  “You felt something that soon?”

  “We were meant to meet each other. There’s a bigger plan for us. Does that sound wacky?”

  “Yeah, it does,” she said. “But I kind of get it.”

  “And I can’t take my eyes off you,” he said, smiling. He leaned forward and kissed her lips, then gently grasped her chin and looked into her eyes. “When the time is right, I want you. All of you. Tell me when the moment arrives that you feel the same way about me and I don’t care where we are or what we’re doing, I’m going to take your body to places it’s never been.”

  IDENTICAL STRANGER

  Alice Sharpe

  Alice Sharpe met her husband-to-be on a cold, foggy beach in Northern California. Their union has survived the rearing of two children, a handful of earthquakes, numerous cats and a few special dogs, the latest of which is a yellow Lab named Annie Rose. Alice and her husband now live in a small rural town in Oregon, where she devotes the majority of her time to pursuing her second love: writing. You can write to her c/o Harlequin Books, 195 Broadway, 24th Floor, New York, NY 10007. An SASE for reply is appreciated.

  Books by Alice Sharpe

  Harlequin Intrigue

  Hidden Identity

  Identical Strangers

  The Brothers of Hastings Ridge Ranch

  Cowboy Incognito

  Cowboy Undercover

  Cowboy Secrets

  Cowboy Cavalry

  The Rescuers

  Shattered

  Stranded

  The Legacy

  Undercover Memories

  Montana Refuge

  Soldier’s Redemption

  Open Sky Ranch

  Westin’s Wyoming

  Westin’s Legacy

  Westin Family Ties

  Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com.

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  CAST OF CHARACTERS

  Sophie Sparrow—She never dreamed her desire for self-improvement would lead to murder attempts, startling revelations about her past and meeting the love of her life.

  Jackson Travers—As an ex-policeman turned private detective, he’s repeatedly been touched by violence. This time is different. This time it’s Sophie in peril—and he can’t fail her.

  Sabrina Cromwell—She’s disappeared. Did she leave of her own volition or did someone abduct her?

  Danny Privet—An attorney with his sights set on Sophie. How far will he go to get her?

  Adam Cook—Jack knows he’s hiding something. Is it Sabrina?

  Louis Nash—A surly photographer with a “no trespassing” attitude. Can they afford to ignore him?

  Buzz Cromwell—Everyone knows the husband is always first on the list of suspects when the wife disappears.

  Paul Rey—Does this ex-con suffer delusions of grandeur or deeper, darker desires?

  This book is dedicated to Joey, Sam, Koa, Kiwi, Mele, Annie and Bonnie, even though most are no longer with us and none of them could read a word. They each filled our lives and hearts with joy. I mean, really, who doesn’t love a dog?

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Excerpt from Incriminating Evidence by Amanda Stevens

  Chapter One

  Sophie Sparrow sat very still, the sound of rain hitting the window the only noise in the room. As a young girl, she’d imagined what this moment would feel like. Boy, had she been wrong.

  “What do you say?” Danny Privet asked as he knelt on bended knee by her side. A glittering diamond ring sparkled in his hand.

  She gulped. When he’d asked to come by this Saturday morning, she’d assumed they would go out to brunch. She had not even imagined this. “Danny, I—”

  “Go on, say yes,” Sophie’s mother prompted from her self-imposed semipermanent residence in a recliner located four feet to Sophie’s left.

  Danny’s head swiveled to her mother and then back to Sophie. “If you’re worried about having to move to Seattle, don’t. I’ve secured a position here in Portland. My new job starts in two weeks.”

  “You quit your job! But what’s the rush?” Sophie whispered as she tried to make an intimate moment out of a public one. Her long straight hair fell forward if she leaned her head just so, creating an impromptu curtain between her mother and herself where she could study Danny in privacy. Why had he chosen to propose now? What was going on?

  For a second, his soft gray eyes held an unfamiliar edge. She’d always wondered how anyone as agreeable as he was could make it as an attorney, how he could defend a client in a court of law, but this new glimpse into his character suggested he possessed the passion a courtroom would require. “Why should we wait?” he responded. “I’ve known you were the right woman for me since the minute I saw you in that grocery store. Why not get married now?”

  “Now?”

  “Well, I know how important a wedding is to you ladies. Plan whatever you want, I’ll pay for it, just make sure we tie the knot by Wednesday because Thursday morning, we leave for Hawaii! I remember you mentioned wanting to go there. I’ve already bought the tickets and made all the arrangements. It’ll be a honeymoon you’ll never forget!”

  Sophie would have gulped again if her throat wasn’t so dry. She felt like a contestant on a game show, different curtains lifting to reveal unexpected—and in this case, unwanted—surprises. “Oh, Danny, you shouldn’t have—”

  “For once in your life,” her mother interrupted, “use your head. This boy wants to marry you.”

  “I certainly do,” Danny said. “And, frankly, Sophie, I thought you’d jump at the chance.”

  Sophie, just about speechless, finally mumbled, “We’ve only known each other a few weeks. I need more time.”

  “To wait for a better offer?” her mother scoffed. “Show some spunk! This boy is a wonderful catch, especially for someone of your—well, think about how kind he’s been to me. What else do you need?”

  I need to love him, Sophie whispered internally, and I don’t. I’ve been waiting twenty-six years to find someone to complete me, a second half that I’ve always known existed out there somewhere. Silly? Romantic? Probably, but there you go.

  As usual, when faced with her mother’s iron will, Sop
hie voiced these arguments solely to herself, where they went to work burning a hole in her gut.

  “Thank you for your compliments, Margaret,” Danny said softly, “but I can’t agree with your assessment of Sophie. To me she’s a star, the brightest in the heavens, an angel surrounded by a halo of gossamer fawn silk.”

  Gossamer fawn silk... Did he mean her hair? The flattery sounded like lines lifted from a greeting card, but on the other hand, it was kind of nice to hear positive—if overly flowery—things about herself instead of negative. She smiled appreciation.

  Danny apparently mistook her smile for acquiescence. Taking her hand, he slipped the ring on her finger. He got up off his knees and sat down on the sofa beside her, placing himself between Sophie and her mother. He squeezed her hand. The ring was too big and had slipped to the side; the pressure of his grip pinched the stone between her fingers.

  “I knew you’d say yes,” he said with a smile bordering on a smirk. “I was so confident you’d see how perfect this is that I already bought you a wedding present. You know that house a block over that’s for sale? I bought it yesterday. You’ll be close enough to keep an eye on your mom.”

  He’d purchased a ring, a honeymoon and a house before even popping the question and without asking for any input from her. She’d known him about a month. How had he been so sure she’d say yes?

  “I’ve also taken the liberty of looking into hiring full-time live-in help,” he added, addressing Margaret. “I hope you don’t think it presumptuous of me but I see how you struggle. Would you mind having someone else living here with you?”

  Sophie’s mother fanned her face with her hand. “I’m just a disabled old widow, Danny. I know you have your own mother to consider. You shouldn’t worry about me. But yes, it would be so nice to have someone to talk to who doesn’t prattle on about teaching babies how to read. I’ll tell you, a little of that goes a long way.”

  “I think her enthusiasm is cute.” Danny chuckled as he squeezed Sophie’s hand again.

  His condescending words struck her like poison darts. She pulled her hand free as retorts ransacked her stomach looking for real estate in which to sink new geysers.

  And how could her mother not understand that the money Sophie made teaching her adorable first-graders was all that stood between this admittedly small house and a tent on the sidewalk?

  “What would you like to talk about instead, Mom? Your sciatica? What a big disappointment I am?”

  Was that her voice she just heard? Had her thoughts actually forced their way up her throat and out of her mouth? Her gaze darted from Danny’s face to her mother’s. Their stunned expressions made it crystal clear she had indeed given voice. Dumbfounded, she stared down at the gaudy ring on her finger.

  Margaret didn’t miss a beat. “Danny, dear, if you haven’t changed your mind about marrying bridezilla over there, perhaps you and I should discuss the details.”

  He leaned forward. “Don’t take her words personally, Margaret. She’s just excited. A wedding is the most important day of a woman’s life, right?”

  Their voices faded to white noise. Sophie couldn’t feel her feet. In fact, numbness seemed to be spreading up her legs toward her heart.

  She stood abruptly, catching both of their attention. Looking from one pair of startled eyes to the next, she mumbled, “I have to go.”

  “Where?” her mother demanded.

  “The school,” she said. Where else would she go?

  “Since when is the school open on a Saturday? What’s gotten into you?”

  “It’s a...PTA bake sale,” she muttered.

  “I’ll drive you,” Danny said, starting to stand.

  “No, thanks,” she called over her shoulder as she forced her legs to carry her into the kitchen, where she grabbed her coat and purse from the hook by the door and moved quickly outside. Oscar the cat scooted past her into the warmth of the house before she closed the door and ran through the pouring rain to the curb where she’d parked. For once the aging compact started without trouble and she drove down the street with no plan except escape.

  After a couple of miles and ever-increasing traffic, she pulled to the curb, turned off the car but kept an iron-fisted grip on the wheel to still her shaking hands.

  Her cell rang and Danny’s name flashed onto the screen. Damn if she wasn’t tempted to answer the call. As soon as it stopped ringing, she picked up the phone and turned off the power.

  The panic that had fueled her this far now began escaping into the atmosphere like steam rising from hot bread. She attempted to review the pieces of what had just happened, who said what, all of that, but the words were muted now, details washed out, a blur. What remained was the one moment when she’d glimpsed her life through a different lens and hated what she saw.

  Had she run from her mother’s negativity, Danny’s condescension or her own sudden fear?

  A woman exiting a shop caught her attention. Tall and svelte, what really made Sophie look twice was her crown of platinum curls that seemed to announce to the world that this woman took no prisoners. The shop she had left was a hair salon.

  “I want to trade places with her,” Sophie said aloud. She got out of the car and walked into the salon.

  The hairdresser turned as Sophie entered.

  “I need help,” Sophie said.

  “Honey, all I can do is fix your hair,” the woman said with a half smile.

  “That’s a start,” Sophie said. And in her heart she knew she could never go back to the way things had been.

  * * *

  JACKSON TRAVERS SAT across the table from the very pretty wife of his best friend, though right now she looked exhausted. It had taken him hours to drive here from his house in Northern California, and as of yet, he still had no idea why Sabrina had summoned him. What he did know was that there wasn’t much he wouldn’t do for Buzz and, by extension, Buzz’s wife.

  “It was really nice of you to come,” she said after the waitress delivered coffee. “I’m sorry the hotel is so crazy. As far as I know, this is the first February they’ve hosted a conference here. I had a reservation but I’m worried you’re going to have trouble—”

  “Don’t worry about it. The front desk connected me with a little place a couple of miles down the road, so it’s okay. I have to admit I’m curious why you called,” he added. “You sounded spooked on the phone.”

  As she pushed aside her dark hair, a series of fresh red scratches on her forehead caught his attention. Since he’d already noticed the abrasions on her palms when they shook hands and the stiff way she moved as she preceded him into the coffee shop next to the hotel, his curiosity ran rampant. “I’ve never called a private investigator before,” she said.

  He flashed what he hoped was an encouraging smile. “Think of it more as calling a friend. I know we’ve only met a few times, but you’re Buzz’s wife and that makes you family.”

  She smiled. “Thanks.”

  “So...”

  “First of all, I don’t want Buzz alarmed,” she said quickly. “He has enough going on right now.”

  “You’re referring to him being in Antarctica.”

  “Yes. The whole scientific team is currently aboard a Russian ship visiting outer islands. I can reach him by radio but holding an in-depth conversation is really hard. He doesn’t need to worry about me.”

  Jack studied her for a second. He’d had a feeling of destiny when she called, something not common to him, something he didn’t even believe in. He’d just had the sensation that her call was the catalyst of a crucial moment in his life and he’d rearranged his plans to travel here without a second’s hesitation. “I can’t promise you I won’t notify Buzz until I know what we’re talking about,” he told her at last. “Why don’t you just tell me what’s going on.”

  She swallowed a sigh and fidgeted a bit before finally
speaking. “It started a couple months ago when I was in the kitchen cooking lasagna. The neighbors across the backyard were having their porch painted. I was at the window draining pasta when I saw the painter taking photos of me with a big camera. By the time I set aside the strainer, his back was to me and then he left... I just had the strangest feeling he’d been doing more than taking pictures, the feeling of, well, invasion.”

  “You were cooking?”

  “Yes.”

  A painful lump appeared in his throat as her words awakened painful memories. They had no place in the present and he did his best to ignore them. “Why do you use the word invasion?”

  She shrugged one shoulder. “It felt...personal. Stupid, huh?”

  “I don’t know,” he told her, the lump refusing to budge. “Did he paint the porch?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Did he finish the job?”

  She thought for a second. “I don’t know.”

  For a second he just stared at her, forcing himself to let go of out-of-context parallels between Sabrina’s issues and his own past. She was sitting here, alive, proof that his imagination was getting the worst of him. “What happened next?” he finally said.

  “A day or so later I came home from work to the feeling that someone had just left our house. No one was there, of course, but I swear, there was just some lingering essence, something that sent chills up my spine. It happened the next day, too. I searched the house but nothing was missing, nothing was even out of place. There was just...nothing.”

  “Did you call the cops?”

  “Of course not. What could they do?”

  “Well, something made you uneasy,” Jack said, not only to reassure her but because he was a firm believer that reasonable people picked up on offbeat vibes they sometimes couldn’t even identify.

  “I run into burning buildings for a living,” she said softly. “I’m not anxious to be tagged as the woman who gets rattled over nothing.”

  “Buzz calls you unflappable,” he said.

 

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