Dead Ringers

by Fossen, Delores

  “Patricia Snyder and James Murphy,” Vince volunteered.

  “No,” Rusty disagreed. “Their names are Layton and Alyssa Hughes.”

  Dana wasn’t sure which of them groaned first. Maybe all of them. “Not another set of look-alikes?” Jack questioned.

  “No.” And this time Rusty paused. “That picture was taken nearly thirty years ago. And no, they weren’t your birth parents,” he added before they could ask. This time, it was more than a pause. It was a hesitation. “They died before any of you were born.”

  Dana was very glad that Rusty had insisted they sit down for this.

  Rusty took out some papers. “News clippings,” he explained. “I read them on the way over, and they're mostly society page stuff. Layton and Alyssa were both born wealthy, and after they started dating, their friends said they were inseparable.”

  Jack picked up one of the articles, his attention zooming over the lines. Dana wasn’t sure her eyes, or any other part of her, were steady enough to concentrate on reading anything.

  “Why do they look like us?” Grace asked Rusty. “Are we related to them?”

  “Possibly. I have people digging, but on record neither Layton nor Alyssa has any next of kin. When they died, their estates were left to various charities. So, I figure if there were any relatives, they would have stepped up then to claim all those millions.”

  True. So, was it a coincidence that they were dead ringers for this couple?

  “How did they die?” Jack asked.

  Dana didn’t realize she was holding her breath until her lungs started to ache.

  Rusty glanced away before he took out the next photo and dropped it on top of the other.

  “Sweet Jesus,” Grace mumbled, and all four of them moved closer.

  This was not a photo from the society page. It was a crime scene. Layton and Alyssa were naked in each other arms lying on the hood of a red sports car. A car identical to the one in the other photos.

  Except in this picture, they were very much dead.

  “They were both shot with tranquilizer darts,” Rusty said, his voice practically a whisper now. He pointed to the dart still in Layton’s shoulder. The other dart had gone into Alyssa’s right breast. “They were both strangled manually after they were incapacitated.”

  Just like Patricia and James.

  And just the way the killer had tried to murder Jack and her.

  “The cops believe their bodies were staged to match the other photos, but the murders took place in a church,” Rusty continued.

  “A church?” Grace questioned.

  Dana took the question one step further. “What kind of sick SOB murders two people in a church? And please tell me that Layton and Alyssa weren’t naked and having sex there.”

  “No church sex,” Rusty verified. “The cops believe they were killed, then undressed. Then posed to match the other pictures. That would suggest the person who took the first photos might have also been the killer.”

  “Who killed them?” Vince asked. “Because maybe it’s the same guy after us.”

  Rusty nodded as if he’d anticipated the question. “Dr. Hartwell’s son, Eric, was the number one suspect. He was supposedly mentally imbalanced and obsessed with Alyssa. He also hated Layton and was jealous of him. The police believe that Eric murdered the couple and then committed suicide.”

  Well, that dashed Dana’s hopes of being able to put a name on the monster who wanted them dead.

  “Two eyewitnesses saw Eric jump off the Guadalupe Bridge,” Rusty added, “but his body was never recovered.”

  “So the jealous sonofabitch could be alive,” Vince concluded.

  Rusty made a hmmm of agreement. “Could be. But if he is, he never tapped into any of his trust fund money.”

  Now, it was Jack’s turn to shake his head. “His mother could have been supporting him under the cops' radar. She could have had him fake his death to save him from being arrested for murder.”

  “Yeah,” Vince agreed. “And now with mommy dead, Eric comes back.”

  Vince’s explanation stopped cold. That’s because it still didn’t explain why they looked alike.

  “The police questioned two other people in connection with Layton and Alyssa’s murders,” Rusty went on. “Dr. August Janski, who was Cornelia Hartwell’s assistant. He was apparently pissed at Layton for pulling some research money for a joint project that Janski and Hartwell were working on. The other was Kirby Arrington, Layton’s business partner. Both men are alive.”

  Jack got to his feet. “I want to talk to them.”

  “I figured you would, and I’m making arrangements. But, boss, the cops questioned them after Layton and Alyssa's murders and then let them go. They think Eric was the killer.”

  “I still want to talk to them.”

  Rusty just nodded, and he collected the DNA bags from them. “I’ll get these to the lab for immediate processing.”

  “Keep looking,” Jack insisted. “I want this killer found.”

  Another nod, and Rusty started for the door with Jack right behind him. “If Eric’s alive, we’ll find him,” Rusty assured them, and he turned his attention to Jack. “But in the meantime, I don’t have to tell you that you’re all in danger.”

  Dana had too vivid memories of the dart attack to forget that.

  Rusty stopped at the door and looked back at Vince and Grace. “They’ll be staying here with Dana and you?”

  Jack didn’t jump to answer that, but he did curse under his breath. “Yeah, but I’ll make some modifications in security.”

  “Who said I want to stay under the same roof with you?” Vince asked. He made his way to the foyer.

  “I’m not doing this for you,” Jack fired back. “But for Grace. I don’t want her dead, and right now, this is the safest place for her to be. If you don’t want to be here, then go. The door’s right there.”

  Grace and Dana exchanged glances, huffed and joined the feuding males.

  “It’s not safe out there for you, either,” Grace pointed out to Vince. “And if you leave, then you risk the killer seeing you. That could lead him right back to us.”

  “Slim chance of that happening,” Vince grumbled.

  “But it’s a chance.” She flung her index finger toward the photos on the coffee table. “I don’t want to end up like Alyssa.” Grace paused. “And I don’t want you to end up like Layton.”

  The corner of his mouth lifted. “Worried about me?”

  “I don’t want the killer picking us off one by one. The bigger the number, the harder it’ll be for him to get to us.” And with that wise assessment, Grace turned and went back into the living room.

  To Dana’s surprise, Vince followed her.

  “Watch him,” Rusty whispered to Jack. “He’s has special ops training.”

  “You think he’s dangerous?” Dana blurted out.

  Rusty made a sound of frustration. “I just want you all to be careful. I’ll try to set you up an appointment to see Dr. August Janski in the morning.” He paused again and moved in closer to Jack. “He’s a professor now. Respected. Tenured. But I found some snippets about him that are a little disturbing.”

  “How so?” Jack asked, lowering his voice to Rusty’s whispering level.

  Rusty glanced at both of them before he answered. “Thirty years ago Dr. August Janski was doing research into cloning.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Jack scrolled through the reports and images that Rusty had emailed him. It was a lot of information, and it just kept coming. He was thankful that Rusty and the other employees were all on top of this, but it was like wading through lead. Somewhere in all that lead, there were clues that would help them name a killer, but the trick was weeding out the clues from all the rest.

  And then figuring out if this cloning theory was more than a theory.

  He heard the water turn off in the adjoining bathroom, which meant that Dana had finished her bath. Jack hid some of the photos he had on t
he screen. Police photos of the Hughes' murders. There was no need for her to see more of that.

  She was toweling her hair when she came back into the bedroom. She was also wearing a large black pajama top that practically swallowed her. It went all the way to her knees, and with multiple rolls on the sleeves, they still flopped over her hands.

  “My jeans are still wet, but I found the PJs in the bathroom closet.” She dropped the bottoms on the desk where he was working. “I thought they might be more comfortable than your rain-wet pants.”

  Probably. But his pants were practically dry now since it’d been several hours since they’d gotten soaked getting away from the killer. “Are you trying to get me undressed?”

  There was a flash of surprise, maybe even fear, in her eyes, but Dana shook her head. “Not yet. I figured I should know you at least a day before I try to get you naked.”

  “Does that mean I’m not getting lucky tonight?” And sadly, it was a serious question.

  “You’ve already gotten lucky. After all, I didn’t put up much of a fuss about staying here in the room with you.”

  No, she hadn’t, and Jack was thankful for it. He didn’t have any extra mental energy to waste on an argument that he couldn’t let Dana win. He didn’t intend to let her out of this sight.

  “I’ll change in a minute,” Jack said and followed her gaze to the door. “It’s locked.”

  “Good.” She paused. “After the day we’ve had, I’m all for locked doors, barb wire. Even an armed guard or two.”

  No barb wire, but Jack had one of his PIs in the wooded area directly across from the house and another by the high stone wall back fence.

  Her attention then went the security monitors, and he watched as she went through them until she spotted Vince. Not in the bedroom where Jack had told him to stay. He was in the kitchen eating one of the sandwiches that Rusty had brought. Vince was also drinking a tall water glass of whiskey that he’d poured from the bar.

  Dana’s gaze stayed on Vince for several long moments. Too long. Before she searched through the rest of the monitors and located Grace. She was in the doorway of the second floor guest suite she’d chosen. She, too, had a sandwich, but unlike Vince, she wasn’t eating it. She was staring at it and mumbling something.

  “No audio,” Jack clarified. Though he wished he was a lip reader because he would have liked knowing what was going on in Grace’s head.

  “You should eat, too,” Jack reminded Dana. He tipped his head to the two sandwiches he’d brought up with him.

  “Maybe later.” Which meant she wouldn’t eat. Jack couldn’t exactly blame her. Having a killer out for them didn’t spark a healthy appetite.

  Well, food appetite anyway.

  Every inch of him was still starved for Dana.

  She pointed to the screen with Vince. “You really think the two of you are clones?”

  It was a question he’d already asked himself a dozen times. “It makes sense. Well, it does if you discount the fact that there’s no verified record of any human ever being cloned.”

  “Because it’s illegal, right?” Dana sighed and leaned against the edge of the desk. “Dr. August Janski might not have wanted to announce to anyone that he’d managed to bring three sets of humans into the world.”

  “But why do it at all?” That was the second question that’d been plaguing Jack tonight.

  “God complex?” she suggested. “Or maybe he was just an unethical egotistical ass.”

  Jack couldn’t disagree with either of those. “I mean why clone Layton and Alyssa Hughes? Specifically, why them? Because if we go with the cloning theory, then it’s a good assumption that we came from them.”

  “How do we find out for sure?”

  “The DNA tests are a start, but I need to speak to Janski.” Yeah, it was a risk because Janski might be the killer, but speaking to him was a necessity.

  “When?” she pressed.

  “First thing in the morning. Rusty’s arranging the meeting now.” And these arrangements were not easy to make.

  “I want to go with you,” she insisted.

  Jack had anticipated that. Dismissed it. And then reconsidered it. He really didn’t want Dana out of his sight unless there was some way he could guarantee her safety.

  “You and I will go,” he said, and hoped like hell it wasn’t a mistake. “Janski wanted to have the meeting in his home in Austin. I vetoed that. It’ll happen at a small vacant office building on St. Mary’s here in San Antonio.”

  She blinked. “A vacant office?”

  “Rusty picked the location. Said it would be easy to control security there. And Janski agreed to the time and location.”

  Dana paused a moment. He thought she might be doing some reconsidering of her own, but she finally nodded. “Did Janski agree to answer all our questions as well?”

  “Rusty didn’t mention the cloning, only that we wanted to discuss Dr. Hartwell and her will.”

  “But Janski's likely heard of the other murders.”

  “Likely,” Jack agreed. “But he might not have connected them to Dr. Hartwell or us. I don’t know how many people the doctor told about her beneficiaries. From the reports Rusty sent, I don’t believe she’d been in contact with Janski for a while.”

  And that could mean anything. Social visits wouldn’t always show up in reports. It was also possible that their relationship had ended when they were no longer research partners. Then, there was also the pesky question: what exactly had they been researching? The reports weren’t clear on that at all with the exception of a single paper that Janski had done on the ethical considerations of cloning.

  She tipped her head to the laptop. “You didn’t tell Grace or Vince about Dr. Janski doing clone research or the meeting we’re going to have with him.”

  He shrugged. “I wanted more info from Janski first. Plus, I didn’t want them coming with us.”

  Dana made a sound of agreement. “Yes, it’d be a shock for him to see us and our look-alikes waltzing in there.”

  He gave his own sound of agreement. Seeing something like that could cause Janski to start digging in places he shouldn’t be digging and put the killer on his trail. “Besides, all of this might turn out to be nothing.”

  “Or everything,” she concluded. “You don’t trust Grace or Vince.”

  “Not yet.” He remembered what he’d read about them in the reports that Rusty had sent. “Let’s just say they have some baggage, and I want to make sure it’s not playing into this.”

  “What baggage?”

  Where should he start? He decided to go with Vince. “My former military look alike is a hired assassin for the CIA.”

  Dana pulled in her breath, held it a moment. “You’re sure?” But she waved that off. “Of course, you’re sure.” She glanced at the locked door again. “If you thought he was here to kill us, you wouldn’t have let him stay.”

  Jack nodded. Vince would have been out on his CIA trained ass if there’d been any hint whatsoever that he was connected to the killer. “With his training and experience, if Vince had come here to kill us, we’d already be dead. He damn sure wouldn’t have come to the front door.”

  “True.” Probably because her response didn’t have any sound, she cleared her throat, repeated it. “Plus, he’s in this clone-whatever mess with the rest of us.” She paused. “What about Grace? Please don’t tell me she’s a hired killer, too.”

  Jack hadn’t meant to hesitate, but he did. “Not hired. But she was questioned in the suspicious death of her mother.”

  “Oh, Jeez Louise.”

  Jack caught onto her hand, eased her closer. “There’s zero proof she was involved.” But Jack intended to get more details on that, too. In the mean time, the door would stay locked, and he would continue to monitor their houseguests. They might share the same face, but he wasn’t blindly going to trust them.

  Dana didn’t look exactly relieved. “Since you’ve read the backgrounds, do our adoptive paren
ts have anything in common?”

  “Some.” He hoped his investigators would find more. A lot more. Like a direct connection to Dr. Hartwell. “When the four of us were born, our parents were all reasonably well off.”

  Dana huffed. “Well, that didn’t last. When I was three, my dad ran out on us and took his family money with him.”

  “Something similar happened to Vince, except it was his mom who left them.”

  “And Grace?” she asked.

  “Her father died when she was young.”

  No huff this time. “We’ve all been touched by death, family tragedy.” Her gaze dropped to his chest. Since his shirt was still open, she could see the scar.

  “Yes, but the money also allowed for private adoptions. It could have been why they were chosen.”

  “Chosen to receive cloned babies,” Dana mumbled. She glanced at the laptop. “Bring up the pictures you were studying while I was in the bathtub.”

  “How do you know I was studying pictures?” he countered.

  She gave him one of her best flat looks. “I just know.” Dana motioned for him to load the pictures.

  Jack did, but he also hesitated. “Maybe the cloned cells that Janski took from Layton and Alyssa contained genetic memories.” Yeah, it was an out-there theory, but this whole situation was out-there.

  “Or maybe we’re their reincarnations.”

  He almost blurted out that he didn’t believe in such things, but his black and white philosophy had been crushed when he first laid eyes on Dana.

  Jack purposely pulled up a photo of Layton and Alyssa when they were alive. And naked. Rusty had found it locked away in Dr. Hartwell’s office along with a dozen others--all of the foreplay and sex. It was a cheap thrill to see Dana-Alyssa’s body. But it also felt a little like cheating.

  “Do you get the same punch of lust when you look at her?” Dana asked.

  Jack considered his answer before he spoke. “Not as strong. But yes.” He frowned. Because that meant Dana got hot from looking at Layton. And Vince.

  “It’s not the same,” Dana said. She groaned softly and scrubbed her hands over her face.

  “I think I’d like to hear an explanation. One that preferably doesn’t bruise my ego.”