“Well, he is. His poems were weird. That’s why Jacqueline wanted to meet him. Guess she likes lousy poetry.”
“The notes were actually lists,” Jacqueline said.
“Apologize this minute,” Ariel said.
Tempest stared at Ariel, then looked down at the dirt and traced a line with the toe of her sneaker. “Sorry. It’s just that I don’t like poems of any sort.”
Stone placed his hand on Tempest’s narrow shoulder. His grip tightened as he looked at Capolucho. “Sorry for her behavior. We should have given her a rabies shot.”
“It’s okay.” Capolucho’s florid face belied his soft words.
“Ray Capolucho may not be a poet, but he’s a good artist.” Jacqueline patted his arm. “Before he hurt his hands, a gallery offered him a one man show.”
“That’s wonderful!” Ariel said. “What are you? A sculptor? Painter?”
Capolucho straightened his spine and squared his shoulders. “Oils.”
“They’re my favorite, too, except for the drying time.”
Stone smiled. “Come inside.” He let go of Tempest and steered Capolucho toward his townhouse. “I’ll show you some caribou she painted for me. They look so alive, I keep expecting them to jump into the room.”
“Yes, do.” Ariel hooked her arm in Capolucho’s empty one. “Come inside, I’d like to show you my work. Normally I do impressions, but I knew Stone would like realism, better. Of course, I just paint for a hobby, so I’m nowhere in your league. Except for the florals I did a few years ago, I try to paint souls in motion. What do— ” The door closed behind the trio and ended the chatter.
Tempest looked ready to detonate.
Link shook his head. “Trust Stone to find a way to avoid hauling this junk inside.”
Free from Stone’s grip, Tempest squeezed herself between Link and Jacqueline, then demanded, “How soon do you go back to your grandma?”
“Tomorrow.”
Link gave her a sharp look. “I’ll be flying to Valdez on Friday. Stay until then.”
Tempest’s face took on a fierce look as she whirled to Link. “If she wants to go tomorrow, let her.”
“I don’t think she does,” Link said as his gaze locked with Jacqueline’s and he gave her a penetrating look. “Do you?”
Jacqueline’s stomach made a tiny bounce. Part of her wanted to get far enough away from Link so she could think rationally, and didn’t feel tendrils of desire growing. The other part never wanted to leave.
Tempest looked ready to kick her. “She wants to leave? Let her.”
“I think tomorrow will be best.” Jacqueline picked up her duffel bag and headed toward the O’Banyon’s townhouse. Link grabbed her arm and stopped her. “Stay,” he said. “We need to figure things out.”
Tempest fled into her home and slammed the door.
“Link -”
“She’ll be fine,” he cut in. “Right now, she’s mixed up.” Tempest wasn’t the only confused one. “Say you’ll stay.”
“I can’t.”
“Tempest thinks she loves me.” He sighed and kneaded the muscles at the back of his neck with his free hand. “She probably does. Eventually, she’ll figure out that there are many types of love, and what she feels for me isn’t the ‘until death do us part kind’.” He gave her an intense look.
Jacqueline wondered if he was trying to tell her he felt confused, too.
Link dropped his arm, and then after a moment of indecision ran his palms up and down her arms. Delightful currents of energy coursed through her. How could she think when he was so close?
Phillip came out of Link’s back door. “Welcome back.” Phillip waved. “How’d things turn out?”
Jacqueline said. “Just a case of mistaken identity.”
“That makes sense.” Phillip grabbed her duffel bag and headed toward Link’s door. ”Desert’s a long way from ‘Frisco.”
She frowned, wondering what the odd remark meant, but before she could question the comment, Link asked, “How’s Carmen?”
“Fine.” Phillip didn’t pause as he walked toward Link’s townhouse. “I’ve had a fascinating time on your computer. By the way, I hope you don’t mind if I added RAM or updated your programs.” Link shook his head, the gesture half acceptance, half perplexity. “I came up with some really interesting stuff.” Phillip stopped in front of the door. “But telling can wait. I’ll get back to work.” He rubbed his hands together. “I’m close to getting an identity on the stalker.”
“Don’t bother,” Link said. “He’s next door talking art with Ariel. Goes by the name of Ray Capolucho.” Judging by his tone, Link didn’t give much credence to Capolucho’s story.
“What did you mean when you said a case of mistaken identity made sense, then mentioned the desert and Frisco?” Jacqueline asked.
“Simple. There are two of you.” Phillip scratched his head. “The only thing I don’t understand is how he managed to get on your trail instead of the other one’s. It’s not like you lived next door.” Phillip shook his head. “It was really strange, until I figured out there were two.”
A tremor that had nothing to do with Link’s proximity ran up and down Jacqueline’s spine. “Capolucho told the truth.”
Link grunted.
Phillip frowned. “It could have been caused by a major bureaucratic snafu. Frankly, I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“What do you mean?” Link asked.
“Same birthdate, same name, different addresses.”
“You’re joking.” An ominous feeling began to expand in Jacqueline’s core.
Phillip shrugged. “Your counterpart lives in Frisco – San Fran, that is. She’s been there for the last couple years, but seems to have moved around a lot prior to that.”
“I have a double.”
Phillip nodded. “At first I thought the computer had a glitch. It took me a couple hours to figure it out.”
“Unbelievable,” Link said.
“It’s the truth.”
“I believe you.”
“I don’t understand why the government didn’t catch it when they issued the social security number.” Phillip shrugged.
“But what can you say?” Link said, “Bureaucracies mess up details all the time.”
Jacqueline gasped. “Did you just say that she uses my social security number?” Phillip nodded. “I’ve been battling with the IRS for over two years about a refund. Do you think— ”
“I’d bet money on it,” Link said before her question was fully formed.
“You really should straighten out the mess,” Phillip told her.
Jacqueline blinked as she tried to assimilate the notion that somewhere in San Francisco there was another Jacqueline Cardew. Should they tell Capolucho they’d found his Jackie? Heartless as the woman had sounded, it probably wouldn’t be in his best interests.
But someone needed to deal with her. The confusion caused by having the same name gave her the second viable reason to confront the woman. She didn’t have the problem of an emotional involvement and a shared past or the problem of a restraining order. And it certainly would be nice to get that $1,674.27 that the IRS owed her.
While it was tempting to simply alert the IRS that they’d made a mistake, getting a look at her double was even more enticing. Jacqueline closed her eyes and imagined the encounter. She wouldn’t introduce herself, but pretend to bump into the woman. They’d chat a moment, as was so common in casual encounters, then, at some point, she’d introduced herself and watch the woman’s reaction. What would it be? Shock? Laughter, as if it was a joke? Amazement?
How many other women had doubles that they didn’t know about? Same birth date, same name, different addresses. According to the photo in Capolucho’s wallet, the other Jacqueline was short, too. Jacqueline shook her head at the similarities.
28
Phillip said, “Cardew is not a common name. What are the odds of there being two Jacqueline Cardews? Two Jacqueline Cardews wi
th the same birthdays and social security number?” As Link listened to Phillip, he became convinced that someone had orchestrated events.
“But someone should have figured it out.” Jacqueline hunched in the easy chair and stared past Phillip to the picture window.
“Less than if your name was John Smith,” Phillip said.
“I wonder how many John Smiths have the same birthday and social security number,” Jacqueline muttered.
“The government is big,” Phillip said. “Some lazy bureaucrat could have mistakenly given the same social security number to two people if they had the same name and birthday.”
“Not likely,” Link said. The more he thought about it, the less probable it seemed, and the more suspicious he became of a diabolical plot.
“There’s something really fishy about this.” Phillip adjusted his spectacles, then gestured to four untidy piles of printouts on the coffee table. “What confounds me is how Capolucho came to follow the wrong one.”
Link sat up straight, impressed that Phillip had noticed the disturbing coincidences, also.
Phillip plucked a printout from the jumble on the coffee table and flipped through it. “I can’t stop wondering how two people with the same name could live so close to each other at some periods of their lives and never meet.” Phillip shifted irritably as he impatiently looked for something in the text. “You don’t have a cousin with the same name, do you?”
Jacqueline shook her head, her expression worried and confused. “What do you mean about us being in the same place?”
“I’d like to read those,” Link said, leaning forward, but unwilling to pick up anything for fear there was some sort of unidentifiable organization to the mess.
“Me, too,” Jacqueline said.
“There are plenty more upstairs.” Phillip tossed the printout at the coffee table and got up. Link followed Phillip up the stairs and into his normally immaculate office. It looked like a bomb had exploded and spewed paper everywhere. Link looked from the mess to the needlepoint his mother had given him as a housewarming gift. ‘Have a place for everything and keep everything in its place’. Obviously Phillip’s mother had never given him such valuable advice.
Link picked up the papers, which were scattered on the floor and began collating them. Having a cyber-geek for a husband wouldn’t be Carmen’s only problem. That was assuming she would agree to marry someone who seemed to view chaos as comfortable.
Phillip dodged a foot-high stack of newspapers, which were piled in the center of the room, and swept a jumbled heap of printouts off the seat of the desk’s chair. Turning back to them, Phillip’s elbow caught the pencil holder. It tipped, and then slowly rolled off the corner of his desk. Pencils and pens scattered in every direction, but Phillip ignored them.
It took all Link’s willpower not to say anything about the disaster Phillip had made in such a short time.
Phillip triumphantly held up a fistful of papers and waved them like a victory flag. “Here they are. Fascinating stuff.”
Jacqueline held out her hands and Phillip proudly handed them to her. Link managed to ignore the mess by reading over her shoulder.
At first glance, the information in the two columns seemed muddled, but as he continued reading, he realized the right side was a timeline of employment and movement for his Jacqueline and the left side chronicled the same activity for Capolucho’s girl. “I don’t get it. How come it lists your employment as being both at Envirohab and that nursing home, then later, this hospital?”
She shrugged.
“That’s what I wondered,” Phillip said. “When I started this timeline, I thought you were the hardest working woman I’d ever known. But that was before I figured out that there were two of you. Arizona and California share a border, so initially I figured you had a job on each side of the state line.”
“Envirohab was miles from the border. Hours from San Francisco,” Jacqueline said.
Phillip waved his hand. “I figured that out when I found out where the lab was and thought about it geographically. Southern Arizona and Frisco are too far apart to commute.”
“This is wild,” Jacqueline said. “I wonder if my namesake knows about me.”
“I’d bet money on it,” Link said.
Phillip looked startled. “You gamble?”
“It was an expression of certainty.”
“Maybe I should write to her and see if she’ll help me get the IRS straightened out.” Jacqueline shuffled through several more sheets. With each one, her frown deepened. “This stuff goes back for years.”
“I don’t think contacting her would be a good idea,” Link said.
“Aren’t computers wonderful?” Phillip asked. “With the right programming, you can find out almost anything you want to know without leaving home.”
“This seems too orchestrated,” Link said. “I think she knows about you, perhaps even stole your identity. It’s the only scenario that makes sense for the way Capolucho got on your trail.”
“That’s a scary thought,” Jacqueline said.
Link pointed to several entries. “You and duplicate were practically neighbors here. Then you moved. A few months later, she filed the restraining order against Capolucho and told him she was moving; despite the fact that you’d been gone for months, he ended up following you. Doesn’t that seem suspicious?” She bit her lip and shrugged. Link jabbed the printout with his index finger. “Regardless of what she told Capolucho, this timeline of Phillip’s indicates that she stayed in the L.A. area for at least a year.” Either Capolucho was lying or his Jacqueline deliberately orchestrated the switch. Either way, he didn’t like this.
Phillip pushed his glasses to the top of his head and stared at Link. “Is that when the mix up occurred?”
“Only if you believe Capolucho,” Link said.
“I believe him,” Jacqueline said softly. “But it doesn’t resolve how Capolucho got mixed up in the first place.” She sighed. “His sheer persistence and honoring of that restraining order— along with my belief that Adam was the writer— explain why things never got resolved before now.”
“Assuming that she knows about you, she might have gotten the restraining order so he couldn’t get close enough for a good look at you,” Link said. “What if she purposefully left hints and clues to get rid of him?”
“You think she didn’t have the nerve to confront the man and tell him to go his own way?” Phillip asked.
Or she’d tried to kill him once and didn’t dare try murder a second time. As if reading his thoughts, gooseflesh erupted on Jacqueline’s arms. Link stroked warmth back into her clammy flesh.
Phillip grabbed the printout from her trembling hands. Link wrapped his arms around her, willing heat back into her body. “There were other crosses.” Phillip ruffled through the pages. His finger jabbed another paper. “Here, a few years earlier, she got an Associates in nursing. Two years later, you earned a Bachelors of Science. Same college. Probably same class. It’s a wonder that UCLA didn’t boggle your records, like the IRS did.”
Jacqueline shivered. “Both degrees were mine.” Phillip gaped at her. She nodded. “It’s true. I earned that Associates in Nursing, but I’ve never used it.” Link stared at her until she explained. “During my sophomore year, I decided I didn’t want to become a LPN, which is what I started out to do, but since I only had a couple of months to go, I completed the degree anyway. Most of the credits went toward Animal psychology, plus I figured I’d have nursing to fall back on if worst came to worst.” She massaged her temple.
Link rubbed the knotted muscles in the back of her neck. “I don’t like this.”
She pursed her lips. “We’ve got her address and know where she works. Do you think we should let Ray know?”
“That’s not a good idea,” Link said.
“I didn’t really think it was, either.” Jacqueline sighed. “Over the past couple days, he’s gotten used to the idea that he’s lost her. Let it be. It’s better f
or him.”
Link wrapped his arms around Jacqueline and hugged her close. After this long his girlfriend might not hesitate over a second murder attempt. That assumed he was correct about the fire at his beach hut being arson. In light of the new information, he suspected the one at Envirohab was arson and murder. But what would her double have gained by setting the fire? “The woman doesn’t want Ray,” Link said, as he tried to think through the situation. “She made that perfectly clear when she had him arrested. She emphasized it when she filed a restraining order against him.”
Phillip perked up, fished a small notebook and stubby pencil out of his pocket and wrote something down.
“Ok, you’ve made your point,” Jacqueline said. “I won’t breath a word about what Phillip found.”
“Good,” Link said. “Ray will make it without her and the paintings. I think he’s probably a whole lot better off without reminders of what might have been.”
Jacqueline tilted her head to study the printout. “I still don’t like this.” Her forefinger tapped the paper. “I don’t know what bothers me, and I can’t put this elusive feeling into words, but something doesn’t feel right.”
Link knew exactly what she meant. In black and white, things looked mundane, but in real life, the situation didn’t feel ordinary; it felt bizarre, immoral and deviant. Coincidence could only go so far. Link tried to remember what Capolucho had said about his girlfriend’s character and couldn’t understand why the man had put up with the suicidal demon for so long, much less remained devoted for years. The more Link thought about it, the less he liked it, and the more the apparently meaningless pattern began to look like a contrived plan.
Jacqueline looked up from shuffling the papers. “I can’t believe all these parallels. I’m trying to find earlier entries to see if my namesake worked as a white water guide in the summers.” Phillip stared at her as if she’d sprouted a second head. “It was a great way to earn tuition. Fun, too,” she added as an afterthought.
No wonder it had felt so right to have her on their trip. No wonder she seemed so perfect in a camp. “If I’m right,” Link said, “you won’t find any work record for her prior to the year you earned your Associates Degree, because I’m betting that’s when she assumed your identity.”
Passion's Fire Page 21