Dead Ringers

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Dead Ringers Page 8

by Fossen, Delores


  They followed her, and Grace deposited the photos on the coffee table before taking the seat across from Dana. “Is it Patricia Snyder and James Murphy?” Grace asked.

  “Must be,” Vince said. He moved closer, standing between Dana and Grace, but he didn’t sit. Neither did Jack, but since they seemed to be in the marking territory mode, he also went closer to Dana.

  “So they were lovers,” Grace concluded. “And the first to die.” She tore her gaze from the photo and looked at them. “What’s going on? Who wants us dead? And why are these crazy things happening?”

  “I don’t know,” Jack answered honestly. “My people are looking into several theories.”

  “That we were triplets.” Grace shook her head. “That, I can buy. Maybe not easily, but it does make sense. Nothing else does.”

  “You’re getting the choked feeling?” Dana asked. “The sensation of being smothered?”

  “Oh, yeah,” Grace verified. She looked at Vince who nodded.

  Jack didn’t nod, but he had experienced the same thing. “Identical siblings have unexplainable connections,” he offered. “They sense things about each other. So, maybe we’re experiencing that with James and Patricia. Mine started about the same time James was murdered.”

  “But if we’re identical siblings, why didn’t we sense something sooner?” Vince asked.

  “I think I might have,” Grace volunteered. “They felt like little flashes from dreams.”

  “Yes,” Dana agreed. “But I thought they were dreams about me.”

  Vince and Jack just shrugged. Maybe they weren’t as tuned into that as Dana and Grace had been. But even though Jack had never met James Murphy, he felt the loss.

  Yeah, it was stupid.

  But he’d heard about that psychic connection between twins too many times to dismiss it. So, maybe he was reliving his sibling’s brutal murder, and maybe Dana and Grace were doing the same with Patricia’s.

  “Where’s your soul?” Vince said.

  His words hung there in the air, but it was clear from their stark expressions, that they’d all heard the question. In Jack’s case, he’d heard it multiple times.

  “Maybe that was James and Patricia’s last thoughts,” Dana suggested. She tucked her feet beneath her, tightened the robe, as if the chill had gotten worse. “It’s not the first thing I could think of to say to someone who was choking the life out of me, but maybe it was their thoughts. Maybe they were wondering how anyone with a soul could commit murder.”

  That hung in the air, too, and Jack had to wonder if all four of them had already faced down a would-be killer. Dana and he sure had. Judging from the scar on Vince’s cheekbone, he had as well. Maybe Grace had escaped that particular nightmarish experience, but her eyes said differently.

  “I need a drink,” Grace said. She stood, looked around the room and spotted the bar. She headed there, poured herself a double shot of something from a decanter and downed it.

  Jack considered one for himself, but he didn’t want anything to muck up his head. It was already mucked up enough without adding alcohol.

  “Okay,” Vince mumbled. “So, now we can assume why we’re getting the soul question and the other. And we can guess that someone wants us dead because of the money.”

  Jack shook his head. “Only we can inherit the money. If we’re all dead, then it goes to charities. Lots of them. Big charities at that. The amount to each individual one probably wouldn’t be enough motive for murder.”

  Judging from the profanity that Vince mumbled, he hadn’t known that. “So who’s doing this…other than one of us?”

  “It’s not me.” Grace put down her shot glass and walked back toward them. “And maybe I’m tapping into Patricia’s last thoughts because I don’t think she looked into the eyes of her killer and saw herself. Or you,” she added, giving both Vince and Jack a glance. “I think she saw a soulless killer who first shot her with a tranquilizer dart and then choked the life out of her.”

  “Can you see him when the smothering feelings come?” Dana asked.

  “No.” Grace pushed the wet hair from her face, sighed and repeated it. She moved closer to Dana, stood over her. “Can you?”

  “No.” Dana gave the same weary sigh, and she snagged Jack’s gaze. “But then my head's pretty messed up with other images.”

  “Trey D’Angelo,” Vince provided. He pulled back his shoulders when Jack gave him a glare. “Hey, you’re not the only one of us who can read.”

  Jack held back from saying something that would land him in the jackass category again, but he had to wonder why he felt the connection with Dana and Grace but not the very man who looked exactly like him and might even share his DNA.

  “I did a Google search,” Grace admitted. “Your attack came up. Your bar, too.” Grace sat down on the sofa with Vince but kept her attention on Dana. “So, when did Jack and you become lovers?”

  Dana sputtered out a cough, and it took her a moment to clear her throat. “What makes you think we’re lovers?”

  “The way you move together,” Grace said at the exact moment Vince said, “The way Jack looks at you. The way you look at him.”

  Neither Dana nor he could deny that, especially after the scar kissing session just minutes earlier. “The attraction was immediate,” Jack settled for saying. He sank down on the arm of Dana’s chair.

  “But you’re not lovers?” Vince questioned.

  Hell. How could someone rile him with just one question? “Not yet.” But he made sure the look he gave Vince told him that it was just a matter of time before that happened.

  “Strange,” Grace mumbled. She sounded relieved. “Maybe it’s because Patricia and James were lovers. Maybe that’s what we’re all picking up on.”

  As explanations went, it was a good one, especially since they were going with the sibling connection. It might also explain why Jack felt a lesser version of the attraction for Grace, though he did have to wonder. If he’d met Grace first, would she have become his obsession?

  One glance at Dana and he was pretty sure she was thinking the same thing.

  Great.

  Just what they needed. Four people filled with lust, insane thoughts and jealousy.

  “So, for now let’s dismiss the thoughts and the soul question,” Vince threw out there. “Who do we have in common that wants us dead?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “Do any of you know your birth parents? Our birth parents,” he corrected.

  All of them shook their heads.

  “I asked my adoptive mom,” Dana explained, “but she said she didn’t know, either. The adoption was done privately through a lawyer. A few years ago, I tried to contact him, but he’d passed away.”

  “Same here,” Jack volunteered. “The lawyer’s name was Martin Carlyle. Ring any bells?”

  “No,” Grace said. “The lawyer for my adoption was Isabelle McClendon. There was a fire in her office shortly after the adoption, and all her paperwork was destroyed.”

  Jack didn’t like the sound of this, and he looked at Vince to see if he had a similar story.

  Vince just shrugged. “My folks said my birth mother was a teenage prostitute and that my father was one of her johns. They said they didn’t even have any paperwork to make it a legal adoption.”

  “And with all your resources you never bothered to check that out?” Jack asked.

  “Tried and failed.” Vince’s eyes narrowed. “What about you? With all your resources, what'd you find out?”

  Jack had to shake his head. “Nothing.” And that in itself was suspicious. Between Vince and him, they should have answers, but the paperwork for his adoption didn’t exist. Or else had been destroyed a long time before he started looking.

  “Any of you have adoptive parents still alive?” Grace asked. “Because mine died when I was sixteen.”

  “Mine are both dead,” Vince mumbled. There was an edge in his voice. Dana and Jack echoed the same. Ditto on the edge.

  Eight out of eight
dead. Jack didn’t like the odds, but then there wasn’t a lot about this situation that he did like.

  “And that takes us back to Dr. Hartwell,” Dana concluded. “She knew us. Our names anyway, and she knew where we lived because our addresses are in the letter she left us. Maybe she’s the birth mother to one set of us.”

  Jack thought back to the photo he had of her, and they didn’t resemble Dr. Hartwell, but that didn’t mean anything. “One of my PIs took hair samples from Dr. Hartwell’s brush. We’ll know soon if she’s biologically connected to us, but from everything I’ve read about her, she only gave birth to one child. A son, Eric, who died nearly thirty years ago. She was in the public eye enough that it would have been damn hard to cover a pregnancy where she was carrying triplets.”

  Jack paused. “But that doesn’t mean she didn’t know our birth parents. Maybe she knew them well enough to take on the role as our guardian of sorts.”

  “Two sets of triplets.” There was enough suspicion in Vince’s voice to drown an army. “And I’m not buying for one second that I’m biologically related to Dana or Grace.”

  None of them argued with that, either.

  “What I feel for them…” Vince tipped his head first to Dana, then Grace. “…is pure sex. I’m talking an instant hard-on. If they were my sisters, I’d know.”

  Jack bristled at the hard-on remark, but he sure as hell couldn’t deny it.

  Grace made a sound of agreement and met Jack’s gaze. He glanced away but not before he felt as if he’d just cheated on Dana.

  “So, we want to have sex with each other,” Grace concluded. “Well, not with you,” she said to Dana. “I’m not wired that way, and it does feel as if you’re my sister. Or something.” She pulled in a long breath. “But I am attracted to the guys. What about you?”

  Dana didn’t respond right away, something that sent Jack’s blood boiling. Hell, why was he so jealous of her? So possessive?

  “I’m attracted to the guys.” Dana looked at Vince. “I don’t want to be, but I’m especially attracted to Jack.”

  “Only because you saw him first,” Vince grumbled.

  And Jack was afraid that was the truth.

  Dana shook her head. “It still doesn’t make sense. I haven’t wanted a man in two and a half years, and then Jack walks into my life, and my body and mind do back flips as if….”

  “Finish that,” Jack insisted when she didn’t continue.

  Her eyes met his. “As if I’d been waiting for you my whole life and didn’t even know it.”

  It sounded a little too warm and fuzzy for Jack’s liking. And too painful to admit. They were into woo-woo territory again. But Dana had managed to put into words exactly how he felt about her.

  He wished they were alone so he could do something about this ache clawing away at him. The same ache he saw in her eyes. Nothing woo-woo about that. Dana was his, and he wanted her. The problem was Vince obviously wanted her, too.

  And this killer.

  But Jack didn’t intend to let either have her. He tried to make that clear to Vince with a scowl.

  The silence closed in around them. For a few seconds, and the sound of Jack’s phone broke it. When Jack saw that the call was from Rusty, he answered it right away.

  “I’m on my way over there now with the DNA kits. I’ll be there in a few minutes,” Rusty told him. “But I found something else.”

  “What?” Jack immediately wanted to know.

  “Not the killer. Just some answers,” Rusty said. “But, boss, I can tell you now. These aren’t answers you’re gonna like.”

  Chapter Ten

  Because Dana was sitting so close to Jack, she heard what his PI said, and her stomach knotted. The last thing they needed was more bad news. Especially if it was news that the killer had discovered their location.

  “What’s wrong now?” Vince demanded.

  But Jack didn’t answer. He stood and went to the door, stopping to pick up Vince’s gun that he tucked into the back waist of his pants, along with his own weapon. Vince leapt off the sofa and was right behind him. Grace stayed put and nailed her gaze to Dana.

  “It’s bad?” she asked.

  Dana could only shrug. “It didn’t sound good.” Her attention went back to Vince and Jack who were now in foyer.

  “They think they want to kill each other,” Grace remarked. “The ultimate sibling rivalry, and the cause is you.”

  That made her stomach worse. “You and I are the same. Identical siblings. They’re both attracted to you, too.”

  A half-smile touched her mouth. “You and I put off different vibes. It’s a nature versus nurture thing. Your arms are welcoming and warm. Might aren’t.”

  Dana pulled open her robe. She’d been doing that a lot lately. But she let Grace see the scars. “Yeah, I’m very welcoming, aren’t I?”

  Grace’s eyes moved over each of the scars, slowly, and her breath hitched in her throat. “Sometimes, men can be dicks. Women, too. I wish I’d been there to stop him from carving you up like that.”

  “I wish you had, too.” The words came from deep inside her. And even though this was one crazy situation, Dana didn’t think this brief conversation had been lip service.

  “Like talking to a sister, huh?” Grace said. She blinked back tears.

  “Almost.” Dana kept an eye on the guys, but she maneuvered her body so that she was fully facing Grace. “For a sister, you’re not sharing much.”

  “Wanta to see my scars?” She added a smile to that, but it quickly faded. “My mother was careful not to leave physical ones. But that’s a story for a different day. For now, I’ll share a thumbnail of my life. I’m an artist. Landscapes and animals, mainly. No man in my life. And I’m convinced that stray cats know where I live and that I won’t turn them away.”

  Now, Dana smiled. “Yeah. Cats know that about me, too.”

  “What’s your thumbnail? The only thing that came up on Google was the name of your bar and Trey D’Angelo.”

  “Until today, that was my thumbnail.” Her gaze drifted to Jack. “Then, he showed up.”

  “Yes,” Grace softly agreed. “And now the quadrangle is complete with Vince.”

  Complete but with loads of questions.

  Dana wondered if some of those questions were about to be answered when Jack opened the door and let the lanky man in. Rusty, no doubt. Maybe it was his nickname because it was also the color of his hair.

  Even though he had a briefcase in one hand and a large canvas bag in the other, he shook off the rain. Then, he did a double take when he looked at Vince. Another double take when he glanced at Grace and her.

  “Sonofabitch,” Rusty muttered. “I saw the pictures so I knew you were look-alikes, but I didn’t know you’d be this identical.”

  “Yeah,” Jack muttered back.

  Rusty put the canvas bag on the floor. “I thought you’d need something to eat.” He took out four small plastic bags from his briefcase, handed one each to Vince and Jack and then headed toward the living room.

  “Before you eat though, I need you all to swab the inside of your mouths.” He gave Dana one. Then, Grace. “But I’m warning you, if you’re identical siblings, and you look like you are, then the test will only show that the DNA is identical.”

  “I heard about a new test that could better break down the DNA,” Jack said.

  “Not perfected yet. But hey, if your DNA is identical, that’s a start. I can also compare it to the others, Patricia Snyder and James Murphy.”

  Dana wasn’t sure what that would tell them that they didn’t already know. Unless it would lead them to their birth parents.

  “Any word on the killer?” Dana asked.

  “Not exactly, but I found out that Dr. Hartwell’s attorney was murdered probably within hours after he sent out the beneficiary letters to be delivered.”

  Another death. Dana tried to keep herself calm. Not easy to do, especially when she didn’t think that was the last of Rusty’s
bad news.

  “Someone hacked the lawyer’s computer,” Rusty continued a moment later, verifying Dana's concern. “The hacker is probably the killer or someone who works for the killer.”

  “How far have you followed that lead?” Jack asked.

  “As far as I could take it. The lawyer’s office had no surveillance cameras. Everyone that our guys have interviewed has said they didn’t see anyone going in or out of the office where the body was found. The cops have no suspects, no evidence.”

  “Someone saw something,” Vince snarled. “I’ll get my guys in there to push a little harder.”

  “Don’t push too hard,” Jack warned. “I’d rather keep the cops out of this.”

  “Finally,” Vince mumbled. “We agree on something.”

  “Why no cops?” Grace asked.

  Dana could answer this one. “Because they’ll arrest us. Or as a minimum, they’ll hold us until they have the answers that even we can’t find.”

  Rusty nodded in agreement, took out a laptop and gave it to Jack. “We need to talk.” He tipped his head to his briefcase.

  “Wait a minute,” Vince said when they started out of the room. “If this is about us, the killer or Dr. Hartwell’s will, then I want to hear what Rusty here has to say.”

  Rusty turned to Jack, and he eventually nodded. Rusty nodded, too. “All of you should probably sit down for this.”

  Oh, God. That was not what Dana wanted to hear. She wasn't sure how much more or Rusty's bad tidings she could take.

  They did sit. Jack put the laptop on the floor beside her and sank down in the large chair next to her. Vince and Grace, on the sofa.

  Rusty took something from his briefcase and deposited it on the table between them. It was photo of a couple, their look-alikes, at what appeared to be a glitzy party. The woman wore a snug sapphire blue cocktail dress that caught the dazzling light. Her smile was equally dazzling, and she was looking at Jack’s look-alike as if he held her heart--and her sexual body parts--in his hands.

 

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