by Joanne Fluke
Marcie sighed. Mercedes had helped so many people. The local community theater was thriving, thanks to her sister’s contributions. And so was old Mr. Hansen’s drugstore, where they’d sat in polished wooden booths and ordered Black Cows, her sister’s favorite soda with root beer and chocolate ice cream. The drugstore was back on its feet because Mercedes had arranged a small business loan out of her own bank account.
Mr. Cox was winding up his speech now, and Marcie took a deep breath. Maybe it was about time she stopped being so shy. So what if she stumbled for words, or broke down in tears? She owed it to her sister’s memory to try.
Her hands were shaking as she tapped Brad on the shoulder. She knew that he was the next scheduled speaker, but her tribute to Mercedes wouldn’t take long.
Brad leaned over so she could whisper in his ear, and Marcie’s courage almost failed her. Then she remembered what Rosa had said this morning, about how happy Mercedes would be when she looked down from heaven and heard the wonderful things everyone would say about her. Marcie wasn’t sure there was a heaven, but she liked the idea of Mercedes knowing that she’d conquered her shyness, for the moment at least. If Mercedes weren’t already dead, she surely would have died of shock if she saw Marcie getting up to speak in front of all these important people!
“What is it, Marcie?” Brad frowned slightly. There were tears in Marcie’s eyes, but she looked almost amused.
“Could I have two minutes, right before your tribute? I . . . I want to say something, after all.”
“Of course.” Brad tried not to look surprised. Mercedes had once told him Marcie had no self-confidence, but perhaps she’d been wrong. Marcie certainly looked determined, and it took a lot of courage to get up in front of all these people and give a speech.
Marcie felt her hands grow damp as Mr. Cox finished. It was too late to back out now. She had to do it. And then she was behind the podium, standing on legs that shook so hard, she had to grip the wooden stand with both hands. Why had she done this? It was insane! She’d never been so scared in her life!
But Brad and Sam and Rosa were smiling. And the twins were staring at her with rapt faces. They knew how shy she was, and what an effort it had taken to simply walk up here. Marcie drew a deep breath and pretended she was back in St. Cloud, Minnesota, talking to her class of art students.
“Most of you don’t know me. I’m Marcie Calder, Mercedes’s twin sister. My sister wrote me a letter eight years ago, telling me exactly what she wanted. She knew the studio would want to hold a memorial service. And she also knew how shy I am, so she told me I didn’t have to get up here and speak.”
There wasn’t a rustle in the big theater, and Marcie took another deep breath. “Mercedes was right. I am shy. But I’m the only one who knows just how generous my sister was, and I want to tell you.”
Once she’d started, it wasn’t as hard as she’d thought. Marcie told them about the money for college. And the braces for her cousin’s children. She mentioned the art scholarship, and the school film library, and the condo in Arizona for their third-grade teacher. The list of contributions Mercedes had made was lengthy, but Marcie didn’t leave anything out. And when she was finished, she gave a big sigh of relief.
“That’s all. I don’t need to tell you how much I loved her, because everyone loved Mercedes. And I don’t need to tell you about how beautiful and talented she was. She was a loving mother, and a good wife, and a wonderful sister. I’m going to miss her terribly, and I know all of you will, too.”
Somehow, without even being aware of how she’d gotten there, Marcie was back in her seat. As Brad got up to take his place at the podium, Trish reached out to hug her. There were tears in her eyes.
“Thanks, Aunt Marcie.” Trish spoke very softly. “Mom would have loved it.”
Rick leaned over his sister to whisper in Marcie’s ear. There were tears in his eyes, too, although he quickly blinked them back. “Mom would have been surprised, too. I don’t think she figured you had the guts to do it.”
Brad started speaking, and the twins leaned back in their seats to listen. He told everyone how grateful he was for the two years he’d had with Mercedes, how much he’d loved her, and how very much he would miss her. It was a touching speech, and Marcie could feel the tears running down her cheeks. It was clear that Brad was suffering. His voice cracked several times as he told a particularly poignant story, and Marcie looked over at the twins through a haze of tears. But neither Trish nor Rick was crying. They were just staring at Brad with carefully composed faces.
After Brad had finished speaking, Sam got up and gave his tribute. This time the twins cried right along with Marcie, and she reached over to hold their hands. Then Sam told several funny stories about the client who’d also been his friend, and the twins ended up smiling through their tears.
The remainder of the service went fast. The studio showed several clips from the movies Mercedes had made, including the one that had earned her an Academy Award nomination. And then Ashley Thorpe, Mercedes’s costar, got up to introduce a scene from Summer Heat. A final word from the head of the studio, and the service was over.
When they walked out of the theater, the sun was beginning to lower in the sky. They stood in a tight family circle at the top of the steps, as several dozen people came over to offer their condolences. The twins stood on either side of Marcie, taking turns telling her who the people were. Sandra Shepard, a supporting actress in Summer Heat. Jolene Edwards, their mother’s personal assistant. Elena Garvey, the costume designer. Beau LeTeure, her makeup artist. Reuben Lowe, the head cameraman. Tom Porter, the lighting supervisor. David Edward Allen, her director. There were so many names that Marcie knew she’d never be able to keep them all straight.
“Lovely speech, Miss Calder.” A short, stocky man with a reddish beard rushed over to shake Marcie’s hand. Then he turned to the twins. “Hi, guys. Are you making out okay?”
Trish and Rick nodded. Then Rick spoke up. “We’re fine, Mr. Buchannan, now that Aunt Marcie’s here.”
“Aunt Marcie?” Trish tapped her on the arm. “This is Mr. Ralph Buchannan, Mom’s producer in Summer Heat.”
Marcie nodded. “I’m glad to meet you, Mr. Buchannan.”
“Not as glad as I am to meet you.” Ralph Buchannan smiled. “I couldn’t believe it when I heard that Mercedes had an identical twin.”
Marcie smiled and sneaked a glance at Sam. “That’s not surprising. Most people have trouble believing it, since we look so different now.”
“But you don’t! That’s just the point. Dave and I were just talking about that. Same bone structure, same coloring, same smile. And I bet him that you and Mercedes used to switch places to try to fool people. Am I right?”
“Yes, you are.” Marcie nodded.
“Did it work?”
“It worked almost too well. I remember one time when we were staying with my aunt. Mercedes got grounded, but I was allowed to go out, so I borrowed her new blue sweater. When I got home, Aunt Becky thought I was Mercedes, and it took me an hour to convince her that she was mistaken.”
“Just as I thought!” Ralph Buchannan smiled in satisfaction. “With the right hairstyle and the right makeup, no one could tell you weren’t your sister!”
Ralph Buchannan was beaming at her like she’d won first prize in a pie-baking contest, and Marcie was puzzled. “Well . . . it’s kind of you to say so, but I’m not so sure about that.”
“Why don’t we find out? I promised the twins they could see the last batch of dailies. Bring them to the studio tomorrow, and we’ll shoot a test film.”
“But isn’t that rather silly? I mean . . . just to settle a bet with your director?”
“Oh, that’s not it.” He lowered his voice and leaned a little closer. “You see, we’ve got a real problem with Summer Heat. There are a dozen critical scenes left to shoot, and now that Mercedes is . . . uh . . . gone, we’ll have to can the whole thing. There’s no way we can write our way out
of it with script changes. Believe me, we’ve tried.”
Trish’s mouth dropped open, and she let out a little gasp. “Wow! You want Aunt Marcie to double for Mom?”
“Precisely.” Ralph Buchannan beamed at her. “I can tell you inherited your mother’s intelligence. And she loved Summer Heat, didn’t she, guys?”
Rick nodded. “She told us it was the best movie she’d ever done. And the dailies really looked super! I think she would have won an Oscar.”
“Maybe it’s not too late for that . . . if your aunt Marcie will agree to a screen test.”
“Please, Mr. Buchannan.” Marcie was embarrassed. “I’m very flattered but I’m certainly no actress. I’ve only been in one play in my life, and that was in second grade, when I played a stalk of corn in the Thanksgiving pageant.”
Trish nodded sagely. “That’s method acting, Aunt Marcie. Mom told us about this class she took once, when she had to be a car. She was trying for a Ferrari, but everybody thought she was an old station wagon.”
“I think you should do it, Aunt Marcie.” Rick spoke up. “If you’re lousy, it doesn’t matter. They have to ditch the film anyway. But maybe you’ll be good. And . . . well . . . if Mom’s watching over us, like Rosa says, I know she’d be really happy if you helped to finish her movie.”
Marcie could feel herself beginning to waver. The whole thing was ridiculous, but the twins really wanted her to do it. And it seemed to have snapped them out of their depression, at least momentarily.
“But really, Mr. Buchannan . . . I wouldn’t know the first thing to do!”
“That’s why you have a director,” Trish explained. “He tells you exactly what to do. Why don’t you try it, Aunt Marcie? Rick and I will help you learn your lines and ever ything.”
Rick looked excited. “Come on, Aunt Marcie. It’ll be fun. And if you’re in the picture, we’ll come to the studio every day after school and help you.”
“You’re going to show her some of Mom’s dailies, aren’t you, Mr. Buchannan?” Trish looked concerned. “It’s not fair to make Aunt Marcie read cold.”
Ralph Buchannan patted her on the back. “Right you are, young lady. We’ll watch some scenes that are already in the can, and then your aunt Marcie can test for the part.”
“You’re going to do it, aren’t you, Aunt Marcie?” Rick looked up at her hopefully.
“Well . . . I’m willing, but you’ll have to get my lawyer’s permission.” Marcie motioned to Sam. “He told me I shouldn’t agree to anything, unless I consult him first.”
While Sam and Ralph Buchannan discussed it, the twins told Marcie all about their mother’s role in Summer Heat. Marcie was amazed at how much they knew, and how involved they’d been in the whole process. The school guidance counselor had advised her to get them involved in some outside interest, and this seemed to fit the bill. If she hadn’t been convinced to take Mr. Buchannan’s screen test before, she certainly was now. Trish’s eyes were shining with excitement, and Rick was just as enthusiastic as his twin sister.
“It’s just a screen test,” Marcie cautioned them. “I don’t want you to be too upset if it doesn’t work out.”
Trish nodded. “We won’t be, I promise. Right, Rick?”
“That’s right.” Rick nodded, too. “We’re just excited about going to the studio again, Aunt Marcie. And if you bomb, we’ll understand. Mom didn’t get every part she tested for, either.”
“What’s going on?” Brad came up to join them.
Rick nudged his sister and Trish explained, “Mr. Buchannan said there were too many scenes left in Summer Heat, and they’d have to drop it if they couldn’t find someone to double for Mom. He asked Aunt Marcie to test for the part, since they look so much alike.”
“That’s great!” Brad smiled at Marcie. “You’re going to do it, aren’t you?”
Marcie smiled back. “I guess so. The twins promised to help me if I get the part.”
“I’ll help you, too.” Brad nodded. “We can make this a family project. Isn’t that right, kids?”
Trish and Rick nodded, but Marcie noticed that they looked slightly subdued again. They seemed to be a bit uncomfortable around Brad. Perhaps they thought he was intruding on their project with her?
“Okay. It’s all set.” Sam came over to join them. “The studio will send a driver to pick you all up at eight tomorrow morning. Ralph’s going back to his office right now, and he’ll send a messenger over with the scene they want Marcie to do. That’ll give you time to study it tonight.”
Brad nodded. “You’re going to need an agent, Marcie. I’ll go find Jerry Palmer. He was Mercedes’s agent.”
“I don’t really need an agent, do I, Sam?” Marcie turned him for advice. “I mean . . . it’s not exactly the start of a career or anything like that. And even if I get the part, I’ll just be filling in for Mercedes.”
“I agree. I don’t think you need an agent . . . at least not yet. Let’s hold off on that until we see the results of the screen test. Okay, Brad?”
Brad nodded, but he looked disappointed. “Sure. Anything you say, Sam. You’re her lawyer.”
“You’ll be there tomorrow, won’t you, Sam?” Marcie turned to him anxiously.
Sam hesitated. He had a ton of work to do tomorrow, but he couldn’t resist the appeal in Marcie’s eyes. And the twins were looking at him apprehensively. It was clear that they wanted him there, too.
“I’ll be there.” Sam smiled at them, and then he turned to Marcie. “You told me you used to switch places with Mercedes, and I had trouble believing it. This is your chance to prove it. I wouldn’t miss it for the world!”
A sound from the pool area made him jump, and he hurried to the window. His love was there. A lovely angel in a white flowing robe.
Carefully, quietly, he crept out the door. His feet were soundless on the well-watered earth, as he made his cautious way around the hedge. He parted the leaves and peered out, only inches from his lovely angel.
He watched for a breathless moment, drinking in her incredible beauty. And then his eyes widened, and an expression of terror replaced his startled demeanor. The red haze rose like a cloying mist, choking his mind and beginning to drive out all rational thought. But he fought it back with all his strength.
This could not be! It was impossible! He’d felt her wrist and found no pulse. He’d looked into her eyes, empty with death. He’d put his lips to her cold, dead lips, and he’d felt no answering breath. It was impossible to conceive the reality of what he saw. He’d watched her die. He knew he had! But now she was back, alive!
And then the red mist swirled up to claim him, invading every cell of his body, snaking its insidious way into the deepest recesses of his mind. And he slumped to the ground, his body curling into a tight fetal ball, whimpering until the image of her beautiful face faded into merciful blackness.
CHAPTER 7
“Look, Aunt Marcie. They sent George!” Trish raced for the door, and Marcie hastily pushed the series of buttons to cancel the automatic alarm. The twins weren’t used to the new security system, and they’d set it off twice since she’d been here. Luckily, the security people checked up with a telephone call before they sent anyone out. Marcie had been able to cancel the alarm by repeating their personal code.
Marcie caught Rick as he was about to dash out after his sister. “Ask George to come in for a quick cup of coffee. Rosa just brewed a fresh pot.”
The twins grabbed George’s arms and practically pulled him out of the car, but Marcie noticed that he was grinning. A moment later he was standing in the doorway, smiling at her.
“I’m pleased to meet you, Miss Calder.” George reached out to shake her hand. “I hope everything works out fine for you today.”
Marcie smiled at him. “So do I! And I’m very glad you’re driving us to the studio.”
While George went into the kitchen with the twins, Marcie gathered up the things the twins had told her she’d need. There was ajar of her siste
r’s special cream to remove her makeup. A soft towel for her hair, the cotton cape Mercedes had worn to protect her costume, the scene Mr. Buchannan had sent over by messenger, and her sister’s personal copy of the script, with scrawled notes in the margins that the twins had helped her decipher. Marcie sighed as she zipped up the small bag Mercedes had always carried to the studio. She hoped she knew her lines. There would be no time to study on the trip to the studio, since Brad and the twins were going along.
Just then Brad came down the stairs, and Marcie turned to smile at him. He’d been very helpful last night, reading her cues and checking to make sure she didn’t miss any lines.
“All ready?” Brad smiled back.
“I think so. The studio sent George to drive us. He’s in the kitchen with Rosa and the twins.”
Brad raised his eyebrows. “You invited him in?”
“Yes.” Marcie was puzzled. “That’s all right, isn’t it? The twins said their mother always gave George a cup of coffee if they weren’t running late.”
Brad shrugged. “Sure. That’s fine. I was just surprised that’s all. Most people aren’t quite that friendly to the people who work for them.”
“Well, we always do that in Minnesota. If somebody comes in to help you clean your house, or do home repairs, you always give them coffee.
“Minnesota hospitality, huh?” Brad grinned at her. “So that’s where Mercedes got it! But you do have to be a little more careful out here, Marcie.”
“Why is that?”
Brad slipped his arm around her shoulders and gave her a friendly squeeze. “You probably knew almost everyone who worked for you. Or if you didn’t know them personally, you’d heard of their families.”
“That’s true.” Marcie nodded. “Almost everybody is related back there. They say that’s why we have such a high percentage of birth defects in Stearns County. Cousins marrying cousins, and that sort of thing.”