The Right Twin

by Gina Wilkins

  He had several hours to kill before Shelby joined him for dinner. He could call home, but he wasn’t in any hurry to listen to more of his mom’s fretting or his dad’s lectures. Maybe because of his own painful and unsettled past, Ryan Walker was convinced that his sons should be settled down and career-focused.

  Aaron knew he needed to start job hunting. He’d even thought about going back to school, training for a new career, getting a more specific focus than the general business degree he’d already earned. He had cousins who were doctors, lawyers, teachers, cops, even a professional poker player. There were plenty of choices open to him. As long as it wasn’t doing endless computer searches or boring stakeouts for Dee-Dub. Andrew might love that life, but it wasn’t for him.

  He should drive into town for a few extra supplies for the fish dinner he would serve to Shelby later, but he had plenty of time for that. He decided to walk around the resort for a while, instead. It wasn’t yet too hot for a long walk, and he wanted to get a good look at the place.

  If his neighbor had returned from his fishing outing, Aaron saw no sign of the guy when he dutifully glanced that way upon heading out. Directly opposite his cabin, a road led through two parallel rows of RV pads before joining the main road that circled around to the exit on the far side. He turned right instead, taking the main road in the opposite direction of the marina. RV pads lined the riverbank on his right, between him and the glittering water, and most were occupied even on this Wednesday morning. The occupants ranged from pickup-mounted camper shells to hydraulics-expanded motor homes that probably had more living space than his apartment in Dallas. Small vehicles that had been pulled behind the RVs sat in the parking spaces, and he spotted quite a few bicycles and scooters. Vacationers visited in folding chairs or puttered around their campsites laying out lunches while children played noisily and sullen teens hunched with their cell phones and headphones.

  He paused to study the tent-camping area. Okay, this was more his style, he thought. Shelters ranging from one-man pup tents to multiroom family tents were arranged beneath large, shady trees. Strings of multicolored plastic lights in whimsical shapes hung from tree branches, and folding chairs were grouped for conversation around fire pits. Additional RV pads lay beyond the tent area, and because they were farther from the water, more of them were vacant. He imagined that would change as the weekend grew closer.

  Having walked halfway around the circumference of the resort, he came to a road marked with a private-drive sign. This, he would bet, would lead to the homes of the Bell family. Through a heavy stand of trees, he could see glimpses of houses. During their fishing outing that morning, Shelby had mentioned that she and her brother and cousins lived in manufactured homes in a private lot near their parents. He was tempted to explore, just for curiosity, but decided the family’s hospitality did not extend to trespassing.

  A green utility ATV buzzed up behind him, the driver a sandy-haired man in his twenties. Tall and fit-looking, muscles work-hardened rather than gym-toned, he wore a resort-logo cap and polo shirt with khaki shorts, and looked enough like C.J. and Shelby that Aaron had little trouble identifying him.

  “Wow.” Stopping the vehicle, Steven Bell pushed his cap back on his head with his thumb to give him a better look at Aaron. “They warned me, but I’ve got to admit it’s still a shock how much you look like Andrew.”

  “You must be Steven. I’m Aaron.”

  “Yeah, I figured.” Steven leaned out to shake Aaron’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”

  “You, too.”

  “Checking out the resort?”

  “Yes. Great place.”

  “I was just headed to the utility shed to get a saw and a stepladder. I noticed a dead limb dangling over one of the sites earlier and thought I would take it down before it falls. If you want to ride along, I’ll show you around the family compound.”

  “Hey, I’d like that. Thanks.” Aaron rounded the cart to climb into the passenger seat.

  The family compound, as Steven had referred to it, was tidy and inviting. The three main houses were similar, redbrick ranch-style homes with white trim and shutters and covered front porches. The grounds were immaculate, flower beds blooming, lawns shaded by tall trees. The road ended in a turnaround with two mobile homes positioned on either side.

  “We call this the trailer park,” Steven said with a chuckle, waving toward those manufactured homes. “That’s where my generation lives for now, though there’s room for two or three more traditional houses in line with the folks’ places.”

  Aaron noted that the mobile homes were quality structures with brick underpinning and redwood decking. All were in variations of tan and cream, which gave them a consistent appearance. Shrubs and flowers in beds around each home softened the angular lines and added to the welcoming atmosphere. The trees here were smaller, having been planted after the units were hauled in, but would provide nice shade in a couple more years.

  A big, lazy-looking yellow lab ambled up to the vehicle. Steven stopped to rub the dog’s ears. “This is Pax. I’ve had him for almost seven years.”

  “Hey, Pax, how’s it going?”

  The lab wagged his tail.

  “I bought the first trailer,” Steven said, pointing to the first house on the left. “Took me a while to convince Pop that bringing in a mobile home wouldn’t ruin the family compound. Then Maggie decided she’d like her own quarters, and she put in the one opposite mine on your right. Hannah moved in next to Maggie after her divorce, and Shelby bought the one next to me when she finished college.”

  “Sounds like you started a trend.”

  “Much to Pop’s annoyance. He’d still rather we’d build houses. But I just turned twenty-seven last month, you know? I’m not ready to pore over blueprints and choose countertops and paint colors. Hannah might think about building in a year or two, but the rest of us are okay with what we’ve got for now.”

  Aaron wasn’t at all sure Steven was satisfied, in any way. Maybe he was projecting, but he thought he recognized a fellow restless soul. Shelby had hinted that her brother felt somewhat stifled here. Which wouldn’t be at all surprising. Experimenter that he’d been, Aaron couldn’t imagine spending his entire life living within sight of his parents, grandparents, siblings and cousins, his whole future mapped out for him. “Shelby said you assist Bryan in groundskeeping.”

  “Yeah.” The lack of enthusiasm in the other man’s voice only confirmed Aaron’s suspicion.

  Maybe Steven sensed his answer had lacked something. Sending Pax back to his napping place, he turned the ATV around in the cul-de-sac, then drove past the houses again. “I was the envy of a lot of my friends, growing up in a fishing and camping resort. Some of them still think I fish and ski all day. They have no idea how much work goes into a place like this. We’ve been fortunate that the bad economy hasn’t taken too hard a hit on us, though it helps that there’s enough family to keep it running with a minimum of outside help.”

  And there, Aaron thought, was the key to why Steven didn’t feel free to leave. Just as Shelby had implied, Steven took his obligation to the family business seriously enough to feel shackled by it, whether or not he actually enjoyed the work. Aaron would have felt the same way had his dad roped him into working for the agency his entire life. Fortunately, D’Alessandro-Walker was not dependent solely on family to keep the company running. The long-established security and investigation business was profitable and stable, and had more than enough job applicants from a pool of computer whizzes and law-enforcement types.

  Steven stopped the cart at a wood-sided utility building behind his parents’ house. The building blended so well into the landscaping that it didn’t detract from the view, even though it was large and designed for function. When Steven opened one of the heavily padlocked doors, Aaron could see mowing and other maintenance equipment along with an assortment of pow
er tools and supplies. Steven threw a four-foot stepladder and a gas-powered pole saw into the open bed of the utility vehicle, then climbed back behind the wheel. “Want a ride back to your cabin? You’re in Cabin Eight, aren’t you?”

  “I am, but if you don’t mind, I’d like to ride along and watch you take down the limb. I can help, if you need me. I find the behind-the-scenes operations of a resort interesting.”

  Steven chuckled. “Most of our guests prefer enjoying the lake or other amenities we offer, but sure, you’re welcome to watch me cut a limb.”

  Aaron grinned. “I guess there’s no accounting for what some people find fun.”

  Steven could have figured out a way to accomplish the task alone, but Aaron believed his help made the job easier. The sizable limb dangled more than twelve feet up in a tree near a currently unoccupied tent pad. While it was unlikely that it would have fallen on a hapless camper protected by no more than a canvas roof, Aaron agreed that it was best to make sure. Maybe Steven was fighting restlessness, but he was still conscientious about his work.

  Standing on top of the ladder with the pole saw extended to its full reach, Steven cut through the narrow part of the limb still attached to the trunk while Aaron steadied him and kept an eye on the limb’s trajectory when it came down. It caught on several other limbs on the way, but Steven was able to guide it with the tip of the saw until Aaron could grab hold of the branch and tug it down to the ground, jumping out of the way when it landed with a cloud of dirt and dried leaves.

  “Thanks, Aaron,” Steven said, climbing down from the ladder and wiping his forehead with the back of one hand. “I appreciate the help.”

  “No problem. Nice-sized limb for firewood.”

  Steven nodded and started the saw again to cut the limb into manageable lengths. Aaron stacked the fire-pit-sized results in the bed of the utility vehicle. They chatted about fishing and hiking while they cleared away the debris. It turned out they shared a fondness for mountain hiking when they were able to get away from work. Steven had friends in Colorado whom he joined a couple times a year, while Aaron was more likely to head for the Smoky Mountains in east Tennessee, where his cousins Casey and Molly had settled with their spouses.

  “I’ve never been to the Gatlinburg area,” Steven admitted.

  “Some of the prettiest countryside I’ve seen, and I’ve been all over the States. There’s something like eight hundred miles of hiking trails in the national park alone. My cousin Molly married a guy who co-owns and manages vacation rental cabins around Gatlinburg. Sort of like your line of work, except his rentals are scattered through the area rather than located on a resort like this.”

  “You’ve traveled a lot, huh?” A note of what might have been envy underscored Steven’s question.

  Aaron shrugged. “Some. Mostly in the lower forty-eight.”

  “I’m lucky to have a week off every few months to visit my friends in Colorado. This place is pretty much twenty-four-seven, year-round.”

  Brushing bits of bark from his hands, Aaron asked casually, “So if you didn’t work here, what do you think you’d be doing?”

  Steven tossed the saw into the ATV and laid the ladder on top of the wood. He shrugged, then said rather sheepishly, “Oh, you know. I had the typical boyhood aspirations. Always thought I wanted to be a fireman. Well, specifically a forest firefighter. I think I’d have done that if I hadn’t been needed here. My folks always encouraged us to do what we wanted—but Mom turned pale every time I even mentioned an interest in smoke jumping. Then I got busy helping around here, and before I knew it, the years were passing. Don’t get me wrong, this is a good life. I’m crazy about my family. But you asked what I’d do if I wasn’t working here.”

  Aaron had to admit he was surprised by Steven’s response to his question. Despite the qualifications, the answer hadn’t been impulsive. Steven had given a lot of thought to that abandoned dream. “You’re definitely still young enough to train for firefighting,” he said as he climbed back into the passenger seat. “You’re obviously in good physical condition, and you know your way around saws and shovels. I’d imagine you’d be hired immediately.”

  “Yeah, well, that’s not going to happen.” Steven started the motor and drove onto the roadway, giving a friendly wave to some guests who’d been watching them work from a nearby campsite. “Like I said, boyhood dream. You probably had a few yourself.”

  “A few.” And he’d experimented with several of them. Turned out they’d been better as dreams than reality. But at least he’d had the freedom to try them.

  Steven parked in front of Cabin Eight. Aaron glanced instinctively toward the cabin next door. An expensive red sports car sat in the drive, next to the dark SUV that had been parked there since he’d arrived, which he assumed belonged to Terrence Landon. Steven followed his glance. “Haven’t seen that car before,” he commented. “The guy sure has a lot of company. Associates, he says.”

  “So Shelby told me.”

  Shelby’s brother chuckled dryly. “Yeah, we figured she’s got you checking him out. She’s been suspicious of him since he checked in.”

  “I heard. I haven’t seen anything particularly bothersome, though I’ve been here less than a day.”

  Steven hesitated a moment, then grimaced. “As much as I hate to give credence to one of Shelby’s unlikely theories, I have to concede the guy is strange. He won’t let the housekeeping staff in, just meets them at the door for clean linens. He says he’s OCD about having people touching his things, despite his parade of guests. Last week when we were working on the cabin you’re staying in, he kept spying on us through his blinds, like he suspected we were up to something besides our jobs. If he really is up to no good in there, he’s not exactly being smart about it.”

  “Yeah, well, most criminals aren’t known for their intelligence. But could be he’s just weird.”

  “I forgot to ask what you do when you aren’t on vacation. If you call helping with groundskeeping vacation,” Steven added with a grin. “Are you a P.I. like your brother, or do you focus on the security side of the firm? Andrew told us corporate security is the major emphasis of your business, with private investigation being secondary.”

  “Actually, I’m between jobs, trying to decide what I want to do next,” Aaron confessed. “I haven’t mentioned that to Shelby. She seems to think just being Andrew’s brother qualifies me to figure out what’s going on in Cabin Seven.”

  “Kind of hard to tell her no, isn’t it?”

  Aaron laughed. “Yeah. It is. But I like her.”

  “Don’t tell her I said so, but so do I.”

  Aaron slid out of the ATV. “See you around, Steven.”

  “Sure. Maybe we can take a couple of Jet Skis out tomorrow. I’ll have some free time tomorrow afternoon.”

  The family certainly had been hospitable, Aaron thought, wondering again if they were like this with everyone or if their seemingly oversized gratitude toward Andrew influenced them toward him. “I’ll look forward to it.”

  “So, uh—”

  Having turned toward the cabin, Aaron paused to look over his shoulder. “Something else?”

  “I was just thinking about what you said. About trying to decide what job to do next. No parental pressure, huh?”

  Aaron had to laugh. “Trust me, there’s plenty of that—from my parents and my brother. Not to join the family firm, necessarily, but to do something productive and worthwhile. And to stick with it.”

  Draping an arm over the steering wheel, Steven asked, “No boyhood dreams you still want to pursue?”

  “That’s what I’m here to think about.”

  Steven nodded and pulled his cap lower over his forehead. “We’ll make sure you have a good time while you’re thinking.”

  “I have no doubt of that.”

  Aaron wat
ched Steven drive off. Like Shelby, he seemed to be open and gregarious. Whatever career frustrations he suffered, he was more pragmatic than bitter. He’d admitted it was his choice to stay here, though it was obvious he felt the burden of obligation. Maybe it weighed more heavily on him as the only male in his generation. He’d seemed to enjoy having another guy close to his age to talk with for a little while.

  He turned to his cabin, digging in his pocket for the key. Just as he reached the porch, Terrence Landon and another man, this one middle-aged and a little doughy, stepped out next door. Both of them looked hard at Aaron, then the older man hurried to the sports car, a couple of cardboard boxes in his arms. He threw the boxes in the passenger seat of his car and drove off without looking back. Landon slammed his door and Aaron could hear the click of the lock from where he stood.

  The guy really was weird, he thought with a shake of his head. Didn’t mean he was concocting evil plots over there, of course, but he could see why Shelby’s suspicions had been raised. Speaking of Shelby...

  He glanced at his watch. He had time to wash up and head to town for dinner supplies, after which he’d start cooking for his guest. Maybe she was just coming over to spy on his neighbor, but Aaron found himself looking forward to the evening a bit too eagerly. Especially since he’d been telling himself that nothing significant was going to happen between them. Somehow, that didn’t seem to dim his enthusiasm.

  An hour later, he stashed his grocery purchases in the backseat of his car, pleased by the selection he’d found at the modest-sized supermarket he’d happened upon not far from the resort. A small coffee shop with a recognizable logo shared the parking lot with the grocery store. It was too warm for a hot beverage, but an iced mocha to go sounded good for the short drive back to the cabin.

  Deciding the groceries would be fine for the couple minutes it took him to run in and place his order, he locked the car and went inside. The lighting was dim, the air conditioner blasting to provide a chilly contrast to the summer heat. Folksy guitar music played from hidden speakers, and the aroma of brewing coffee wafted temptingly from behind the counter, upon which a tempting display of pastries was arranged in a glass case. He hadn’t thought of dessert for tonight, he realized. He wasn’t much of a baker, so he ordered a couple of sugar-dusted lemon bars along with his iced coffee.