“You know the airlines. Which brings me to another problem. I can’t get in the apartment. My keys were in my luggage.”
“We haven’t used keys in years, but I know what you mean. Don’t worry about it. It will only take a minute to get you another card. I’ll be right back.”
As the man left, Patti rubbed her temples. Her nerves were as taut as if she were living the nightmare of showing up at school for her job, but hadn’t done that year’s scheduling. Terrifying.
The lobby had two elegant Victorian chairs. A dark, shiny mahogany end table between the chairs sat on a small Persian rug. Off to the side was a reception counter and a door.
Looking around, she found three elevators. She knew some elevators were programmed to only go to certain floors. Hopefully, she would pick the right one.
The doorman rushed towards her with his hands full of mail. As he handed her the mail and the key card, panic set in.
She didn’t know Jamie’s apartment number. She looked down at the mail, but the address didn’t show a number. Obviously, residents shared a main street address and picked up their mail at the front desk.
With a flash of brilliance, Patti let the card slip from her grip. With another exaggerated sigh, she smiled at the doorman.
He bent to pick up the key card.
“Be a dear and ride up with me. My hands are full.”
“Certainly, Ms. Jakowski.”
The doorman walked to the elevator on the far right side. He put the keycard into a slot.
The elevator door slid open.
They stepped inside.
He looked at her and she smiled back though her heart was racing.
How was she going to know which button to hit? Her pulse quickened. She waited to see what floor he would choose, but was surprised to see no numbers announcing the floors.
He slipped the key card into another slot Patti hadn’t noticed. The elevator quietly started its upward climb.
Of course, everything Jamie did was first class. The penthouse apparently had its own private elevator.
“Did anyone else come looking for me besides the FBI?” Patti asked, with what she hoped was nonchalance.
“Just Mr. Hamed. I told him you weren’t here, but he does have his own key card so…” The man held up his hands in mock surrender. “He went into your apartment but didn’t stay long.” The look on his face told her he didn’t exactly approve of Mr. Hamed.
“Did Mr. Hamed come before, or after the FBI?”
“Mmmm.” The man tapped his head as if to jog the memory loose. “It seems to me he came after the FBI, but I’m not sure.”
“Did you tell him the FBI had been here?”
“Certainly not. It wasn’t my place.”
The elevator stopped.
He slid the key card in yet another slot.
The elevator doors slid open revealing a spacious apartment, not a hallway.
Patti managed to hide her surprise.
She smiled at the doorman. “It sure is nice to be back home.”
“Traveling is OK, but the best part is always coming home, don’t you think?” He chuckled.
“Isn’t that the truth?”She thanked the doorman as he handed her the key card.
“I’ll let Tomas know you’re back.”
“Hold on a minute.” She reached for her purse.
A look of surprise crossed his face and he waved her away. “That’s OK, Ms. Jakowski. You take good care of me. I don’t need anything extra.”
Another faux pas.
The doorman walked to the elevator, but then stopped and turned back to Patti. “Are you sure everything’s OK? You seem different.”
“I’m just exhausted.” No lies or deception there. It was the truth. She felt as if she might collapse at any moment.
He nodded with understanding. “Well, don’t worry about a thing. Perhaps, you want me to wait until the morning to place those calls.”
“No, no, go ahead.” She had no idea what he meant, but acted as if she did. “That would be fantastic.”
He stepped on the elevator.
As the elevator doors closed, she crumpled to the floor.
22
Patti sat on the floor, hugging her knees to her chest. That hadn’t gone well at all. Even Jamie’s doorman hadn’t been fooled. If she couldn’t deceive him, how could she expect anyone to believe she was Jamie?
Her breathing quickened and her pulse raced. Oh, no. Not now. She knew the symptoms of an anxiety attack well enough to recognize them. No time to fall apart. Breathe. With each slow deliberate breath, her body relaxed a bit more.
After a few moments, she was able to stand up. Staring around the room, she shook her head.
Jamie had a knack for the dramatic when it came to decorating. It was as amazing as Jamie’s house in Florida.
She stood in the center of one huge room. A combination of living room, dining room and kitchen, though a counter did separate the kitchen from the other areas.
The furnishings were expensive and elegant like at Jamie’s house, but instead of traditional, they were sleek and modern. A wall of windows formed one side of the apartment.
In front of the bank of windows, Jamie had arranged a loveseat, a chair, and a small table.
Patti walked over and stared out at the city. It gave her the unnerving feeling of open space, but it was spectacular.
The summer sun was dropping down over the horizon, casting orange, yellow and red hues across the evening sky. The twinkling city lights mixed with the sunset.
Down below, she could see the shimmering water.
Awesome.
How many times had Jamie stood in that same spot, lonely and vulnerable, wishing she could talk with Patti?
Patti’s eyes filled with tears. Her sister had needed her, and she hadn’t been there for her. She’d been too self-absorbed, and brooding about the past.
She turned her back on the sunset.
On the right side of the room was a stone fireplace.
Her gaze moved up to the mantel.
The Picasso, again.
She touched it.
A print this time. Definitely not the original.
Staring at the image, Patti wondered what it had meant to Jamie. Two sides of the same person? Or a deeper meaning, a dark twin and a light twin? And if that was the case, which was she? A week ago, the self-righteous Patti would have known the answer, but now—not so much.
Turning around, she gazed at the rest of the apartment. The dining area had chairs and a table with elegant tiles forming a motif on the top. Stainless steel appliances made up the third wall. A U-shaped bar separated the kitchen from the living and dining areas, but it still gave the feeling of being one room.
She didn’t know what to do, now that she was actually standing inside Jamie’s apartment.
Her stomach growled. She walked over to the refrigerator and opened it. Empty. Which made sense.
Jamie hadn’t been here in at least two weeks from what Patti could figure out.
She could call for a pizza to be delivered, but wasn’t sure of the procedure for ordering food.
The doorman was already suspicious.
This didn’t quite look like the place where a lot of pizzas were delivered, more likely sushi or some other exotic food.
She decided against ordering takeout. It was far too risky.
If she’d been thinking, she’d have eaten before she came to the apartment building. Then again, if she’d been thinking, she wouldn’t have come to San Francisco at all.
Carter would be furious when he found out.
If he found out, she corrected herself.
She had no obligation to–a buzzer interrupted her thoughts.
Feeling like a student who’d been summoned to the principal’s office, the panic set in once again. What was she supposed to do? Spying a phone beside the elevator, she walked over and lifted up the receiver. “Hello?”
“Ms. Jakowski.” It was the
voice of the doorman. “Your grocery order is here.”
Her mouth opened to say she hadn’t ordered anything, but she closed it just as quickly. She wasn’t sure how or why food was being magically delivered, but decided it was a good thing. She was starving. “Great. Send it up.”
Moments later another buzzer sounded, but this one had a different tone than the intercom. She pressed the single button under the phone, hoping it was the right thing to do.
The elevator door opened. A teenage girl with long brown hair walked out carrying several plastic bags in both hands. She wore a T-shirt and faded jeans. A Bluetooth was stuck in one ear and an I-Pod earpiece in the other.
“Hey, Jamie,” the girl said with a bright smile, walking towards the kitchen.
“Hi.” Patti tagged along.
The girl seemed to know what she was doing so Patti stood back and let her do her job. The young woman pulled out the earpiece and looked at Patti.
“Wow! You were sure gone a long time.”
“Yeah, work ended up taking longer than planned. I’m glad to be back, though.”
The girl gave Patti a quizzical look, but said nothing. She stopped at the kitchen island and set the bags on it.
Patti walked over trying to look more interested.
The girl seemed to expect it.
“So, guess who asked me out for next weekend?” The delivery girl asked in a gossipy tone as she handed Patti a sales slip.
Patti had no idea what to say, or what to do with the sales slip.
It seemed obvious Jamie and this girl had more of a relationship than just delivery girl to her customer.
She shrugged, not knowing what to say. She forced herself to sound interested and gossipy. “I don’t know.”
The girl’s sparkle dissipated, her shoulders dropped, and she looked crestfallen.
Patti tried to repair the situation as best she could. “Well, tell me.”
“Never mind. Can you sign the slip or do you want to check it first?” she snapped at Patti. This girl wasn’t happy with Patti’s imitation of Jamie.
“No, don’t be silly. I trust you.” Patti looked around for a pen and spied one sitting on the counter by the phone. She picked up the pen and signed the slip.
“So, come on, tell me your big news.” Patti tried to sound chummy as she handed the delivery girl back the signed receipt.
The girl took the receipt without looking at it. She didn’t answer Patti’s question. Instead, she asked her own question. “Are you all right, Jamie?”
“Sure. Why do you ask?” Patti felt sweat forming on her hands. She rubbed them against her jeans. The feel of the denim against her hands made her question whether Jamie would choose to wear jeans while being undercover, or would she have chosen something more elegant. Too late, now.
“I don’t know. You seem different.”
Of course, she was different. She didn’t have the first idea how to act like Jamie. When they’d been young, they’d been able to fool their friends, but that was when they both knew all the same people.
She forced a smile. “No, I’m not OK,” Patti told the girl. “I’m exhausted from the trip and I’ve had some bad news. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. Why don’t you sit down and tell me what’s going on in your life?” Patti went to her purse and got a five, and then changed her mind and chose two twenties instead.
The girl considered Patti’s offer for a moment. “Nah, that’s OK. Like you said, you’re tired. I’ll tell you later.” She reached out her hand for the tip. “Thanks for the money. It goes right into the college fund.”
“Good idea.”
Confusion crossed the girl’s face once again.
Patti ignored the look and decided to get some information. “You know the doorman, right?”
“Sure.”
“Did he call you?”
“Sure, Robert or Tomas always calls us when you get in and then I bring over your standing order. That’s what you wanted me to do, right?”
“Absolutely,” Patti answered lamely, searching her mind for a reason to ask such an odd question. “I just wondered if Robert was still working, that’s all. I needed to ask him something.”
“Oh, do you want me to send him up?”
“No, no. I’ll check with him later.”
After the girl left, Patti couldn’t shake the feeling she failed her second test as Jamie. But at least she now knew the doorman’s name. If she couldn’t do any better, she’d better give up the charade and go home.
The moment the thought popped in her head, she knew it was the right thing to do. She had no business being in San Francisco. How could she find Jamie when the professionals couldn’t?
She sat down on the nearest bar stool, exhausted and overwhelmed. Her heart beat faster and the air in the apartment pushed in on her. Sweat pooled in the palms of her hands. Her self-controlled slipped away. Her breathing quickened and she knew it was a matter of moments before she had an all-out panic attack.
No.
Taking a deep breath, she wouldn’t allow it. She’d come to Jamie’s apartment for a reason and she’d see it through. It wasn’t the time to fall apart like some wimpy girl. Taking slow deep breaths, calmness returned.
It had been hours since she’d eaten the tomato soup and toasted cheese sandwich at Carter’s house. At the thought of Carter and his soup, she teared up. Her blood sugar must be low.
Patti opened the refrigerator and grabbed a container the grocery girl delivered. It was some sort of expensive shrimp dip. She found some gourmet crackers in the cupboard and downed several in quick succession. The dip was delicious, but she didn’t take the time to enjoy it. She got a bottle of sparkling water out of the fridge and took several long drinks from it.
She spied a door in the kitchen. It led to a hallway.
The first door opened up to Jamie’s bedroom.
Another gorgeous view.
Everything was spotless in the room, just like the rest of the apartment. Either Jamie had a good cleaner or she’d changed beyond recognition
Patti checked drawers and closets. She left the room and went to another.
Jamie’s office.
Certainly, she’d find phone numbers or addresses of the people Jamie knew.
Patti went to the computer. She turned it on. The cursor flickered, waiting for the password. She typed in Sabrina and it finished booting up.
Her triumph turned to defeat as she realized if there had been anything important on the computer, the FBI would have taken it with them.
She made a face at the computer, but looked at the files, anyway. When her eyes couldn’t focus any longer, she came to the conclusion there was nothing to be learned.
So exhausted she could barely move, she stumbled from the chair to the sofa. Her mind wouldn’t slow down enough to let her relax.
They’d been so close once. They’d known everything about the other, their thoughts, their feelings, their hopes and dreams. How had she and Jamie come to this point?
Unbidden, a memory came to Patti.
Jamie had sneaked out and gone to the gravel pit to swim with friends.
The boys claimed it was a skinny-dipping party.
Rumors abounded at school.
Jamie swore to Patti and her parents she hadn’t gotten naked, no matter what the boys said. Jamie went because her girlfriend insisted on going, and Jamie didn’t want her friend to be the only girl. Boys, beer, and one girl were a bad combination.
Patti hadn’t stood up for Jamie at school, or with her parents. Instead, she’d distanced herself because she hadn’t wanted to ruin her reputation.
Jamie didn’t worry about her reputation. She’d always been willing to break the rules if it meant helping someone.
Patti saw it happen more than once when Jamie took the blame and the punishment.
After that incident, Jamie changed.
Patti now understood it had been a turning point.
They began to go their
separate ways. Different friends and different activities.
Jamie started saying if she had the reputation, she might as well have the fun to go along with it.
And through it all, Patti hadn’t defended her.
Being the wild child and the rebel was what brought Jamie here to this apartment in San Francisco.
All of it was Patti’s fault. If she hadn’t been so afraid of what others thought, she would have defended Jamie.
And that could have made all the difference.
23
Palm Beach, Florida
Carter slammed the phone down. He’d waited all night before calling Patti at the hotel. It had been hard, but he wanted her to know he respected her and her needs.
The front desk had informed him Ms. Jakowski checked out the night before, soon after registering.
Not good.
He blew out the anger and took a deep breath, counting slowly. He stopped at two. Maybe, she’d gone back to the safe house.
Could Patti have found out where Jamie went on her business trips?
His stomach turned to acid.
They hadn’t gotten around to discussing the letter from Jamie.
It was clear Patti felt betrayed when he sided with Marcus.
He had a bad feeling.
Carter needed to call Marcus, but it was early in California. Marcus would be able to access the airline records to see if Patti had flown to California, as he suspected.
His mood darkened.
Before her death, his wife hadn’t listened to reason, either. She’d been fiercely independent, and he had begged her more than once to quit the force and find a safer job. Several years ago she’d made a routine traffic stop. Only it wasn’t routine. When she’d called in the tag numbers, she’d discovered the car was wanted as part of an Amber Alert.
The dispatcher told her to wait for backup, but she didn’t.
Nancy probably saw the little girl’s head pop up from the back seat and wouldn’t have taken the chance of the perp driving off.
Nancy and the perp died.
The little girl was in the back seat, hysterical, but healthy.
His wife was trumpeted as a hero, but that didn’t make Carter any less alone.
The familiar pain threatened. He’d been an agnostic, but Nancy had been a devout Christian.
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