Twin Targets

by Marta Perry

  “Are you expecting someone?” The question was low and sharp.

  “No.” She got up, shaking off the atmosphere of fear he’d brought into her house with him. “It’s probably a neighbor.” She took a step toward the door. “I’ll get—”

  He caught her, pulling her against him, his hand going over her lips. Her first instinct was to struggle, but his grasp was protective, not menacing.

  “Stay here.” He whispered the words against her ear, his breath moving her hair. “I’ll check.”

  Ridiculous, one part of her mind said. But some instinct kept her glued to the spot, watching as he moved silently to the window. Keeping to one side, he peered out cautiously.

  Then his body stiffened, and his hand moved toward his gun.

  Micah forced himself to remain motionless, assessing the odds. Two of them, both armed, with their weapons out in the open, obviously not fearing any interference in this isolated location. Even as he watched, one man signaled the other to go around the back of the small house, cutting off any retreat.

  His hand was on his weapon. If he were alone…

  But he wasn’t. The woman had to be their target. His first priority was to protect her, and he only had seconds to make a decision.

  He reached her in three quick strides, yanking out his cell as he did.

  “A place to hide,” he murmured the words as he punched in numbers. “Think.”

  To his surprise, she didn’t argue. She touched his hand, guiding him to the stairs. They went up swiftly even as he identified himself and gave terse instructions to the local police dispatcher.

  She led the way into a bedroom, across it, to a closet. That was the first place they’d look. He shook his head, but even as he did so, she pushed clothes back to reveal a small door. Hidden at the end of the closet, it probably led into a storage space. Not great, but the best they could do. The sound of the door being kicked open downstairs decided it. He shoved Jade through the small door, pulled clothes back into place to hide the opening, and slid in after her, closing the door.

  Their hiding place was a narrow, confined space under the eaves, redolent of mothballs, the ceiling so low he had to stoop. He hoped she wasn’t claustrophobic. They were close enough that he could feel her breath on his skin.

  She had to be afraid, but she was handling it well, at least so far.

  Another thud, another door kicked open. The second thug was in the back now. Kitchen, probably. If he’d seen the rest of the house, he’d have a better idea. He heard their noisy progress through the downstairs. A mutter of voices came, and then one rang out loudly.

  “I tell you they have to be here. His car’s still there, isn’t it? Check the cellar!”

  Heavy feet on wooden floorboards, followed by the crash and tinkle of breaking glass.

  Jade moved on a swift intake of breath. He put his palm over her lips again, holding her immobile against him, shaking his head in warning, not that she could see it in the darkness.

  “They must be upstairs.” The one who seemed to be in charge spoke. “Let’s go.”

  Footsteps on the stairs muffled whatever response the other man made. Then his voice rang out, probably as they reached the top of the stairs.

  “…maybe this isn’t the right one, either. What do we do then?”

  Jade stiffened, straining against him as the import of the words seeped in for her, as well as for him. The right one? What on earth did that mean?

  Thought was cut off as the door to the bedroom crashed open. Micah shoved the woman behind him as best he could in the tiny space. He pointed his gun at the opening. He might not be able to take on both of them, but he could do some damage to the one who opened that door.

  “I’m telling you, they musta got out the back before I got there. There’s no place to hide in here.”

  “Check the closet anyway. I’ll cover you.”

  Micah held his breath, steadying his gun hand, a silent, wordless prayer forming. This was it—another second, maybe two—

  The faint cry of a siren, growing louder, mounted to a wail. He managed a breath. That had to be the sweetest sound he’d ever heard.

  The gunmen reacted even faster than he did. Thuds marked their progress down the stairs, across the lower level, out the door. The car roared down the lane. Jade moved, squirming around him as if to open the door. He caught her, holding her still until he heard the cop cars pull up below. Then he got out of the closet first, holstering his weapon, holding both hands in the air, his badge opened in one.

  “Up here,” he shouted when he heard them enter the house, having no desire to start downstairs until he was sure he wouldn’t be met by a trigger-happy inexperienced kid. “Deputy U.S. Marshal Micah McGraw.”

  Two uniformed officers burst into the room, weapons focused on him. He stood perfectly still.

  “Who’d you say you were?” The older man barked the question, gesturing to the younger, a tow-headed kid who didn’t look old enough to be a cop. The kid edged up on him carefully and took the ID from his hand.

  “Deputy U.S. Marshal Micah McGraw,” he repeated patiently. “Two armed men broke in. Their car—”

  “We saw it.” The older man checked his identity card thoroughly, then nodded to him to put his hands down.

  “Already put out an APB.” He tossed the ID back.

  “Sorry, Marshal.”

  “No sweat—I’d do the same in your place.”

  “What about Ms. Summers? She here when this went down?”

  “She’s here.” He held the door open, and Jade crawled out of the closet.

  “You okay, Ms. Summers?” The officer holstered his weapon.

  “I’m fine.” She stood, straightening her shoulders.

  “All right, then.” He shot a glance at Micah, as if waiting for an explanation. There wasn’t one he could give, not now. He’d have to call in, get his people here…

  First, he had to make sure Jade Summers really was all right.

  As if aware of his gaze on her, she raked her fingers through her shoulder-length red curls in an attempt to restore order. She dusted off her pant legs and looked up at him. Eyes green as glass in a pale, heart-shaped face seemed to measure him.

  “Is it over?”

  Was there an honest answer to that? He wasn’t sure. Her likeness to Ruby shook him, and he tried to ignore the image of Ruby’s lifeless body.

  “For the moment,” he said.

  TWO

  “Why don’t you just come home with me?” Ellen Trask asked the question for the fourth or fifth time since she’d sat down in the kitchen with Jade. “I’ll convince them it’s okay.”

  Jade didn’t doubt that. Ellen might look like a elderly kewpie doll with her gray curls and cheeks as round and shiny as apples, but she didn’t take anything from anyone. She’d already gone one round with a patrolman who’d tried to get her to leave. She had come out victorious. That seemed to have her geared up to take on anyone to protect the tenant she tended to mother.

  “Thanks, but I’d better stay.” She tried to manage a smile, but was sure it failed. “I’d rather be here, in case they want to talk to me again.”

  Ellen didn’t argue. She just got up, her boot crunching on a bit of broken plate on the floor, and poured hot water from the steaming kettle into their tea mugs.

  “I still don’t see why they wouldn’t let me sweep this floor.” Ellen hadn’t liked it when the patrolman had taken the broom from her hand with a warning not to disturb a crime scene. “What’s a bit of shattered china going to tell them, I’d like to know?”

  She didn’t know, either, so she just shook her head, wrapping her fingers around the mug. But even its warmth couldn’t penetrate the cold place inside her. Ruby, the twin sister who’d once felt like the other half of her, was dead. She didn’t think she’d really absorbed it yet. It didn’t help that her cozy home no longer felt like her own. The living room, the upstairs, even the front yard thronged with various people in unifo
rm, doing goodness knew what. Strangers had taken over her house, beginning the moment Micah McGraw came to her door, bringing with him that aura of menace and danger. If he’d never come near her…

  Well, that was a stupid thought. They’d had to tell her that Ruby was dead. They’d had to admit they’d failed to protect her.

  And now they’d brought Ruby’s killers to her door. Another shiver went through her.

  Ellen, probably seeing the involuntary movement, patted her hand. “It’s an awful thing, those men breaking in, just awful. I never heard of the like in the whole time I’ve lived in this county. Things like that don’t happen here.”

  That was what she’d thought, too. Apparently they’d both been wrong.

  “What do you suppose they wanted?” Ellen fixed an inquiring gaze on Jade’s face.

  She didn’t know what to say. Anything but the truth, she supposed. “I don’t know.”

  She had to struggle to get the words out. Probably someone like Micah lied easily in his job, constantly dealing with people who weren’t who they said they were. Falsehood didn’t come so readily to her.

  Ruby had lied all the time when they were younger. The unpleasant memory seemed disloyal, but it was true. Ruby had always said you might as well tell people what they wanted to hear. She hadn’t seemed to realize that people had eventually come to distrust her. Maybe because of that, Jade had tried always to tell the exact truth, no matter how much it hurt. But she couldn’t tell Ellen, or anyone else, about Ruby. Fortunately Ellen was off on a string of speculations of her own, coming up with one reason after another for the peculiar happenings. Jade could stop paying attention as long as she nodded once in a while. She could let her thoughts worry at the events of the past hour, trying to make sense of it all.

  “Lucky for you that marshal happened to come along when he did.”

  “Yes, it was.” Jerked back to attention, she tried to sound noncommittal. McGraw had saved her life. She couldn’t deny that. On the other hand, he might have been the one to lead those men right to her. The back door rattled. She jumped, tea sloshing onto the tabletop. Herb came in, with Micah McGraw looming behind him.

  “We better get along home, Ellen.” Herb always looked somewhat like an elderly bloodhound, and at the moment, the lines of his face had deepened. “The marshal here needs to talk to Jade.”

  Ellen’s feathers ruffled instantly. “Not if Jade wants me to stay, marshal or no marshal.”

  Ellen’s friendship warmed her. But she couldn’t tell Ellen the truth, and obviously neither she nor McGraw wanted to talk in front of her.

  “That’s kind of you, but I’m fine. I can’t thank you enough for coming.” Her voice wobbled a little on the last word.

  Ellen rose and swept her into a hug. “You call us anytime, day or night. Better yet, come stay with us tonight. Or at least come over for supper.”

  “I’ll…I’ll let you know.”

  She must be more shattered than she’d thought when such simple kindness brought her close to tears. She tried to stiffen her spine. Right now she needed time to collect herself, to mourn her sister, to restore order to her life. And to get rid of the authorities, in the form of the man who stood like a rock in her kitchen.

  When the door closed behind Ellen and Herb, she slumped back into the chair. McGraw still stood, hands braced on the back of the chair opposite her, his gaze focused on her face.

  “Are you okay?” He said the words as if he actually cared.

  “I think so.” She took a breath, weighing what to say.

  “I guess I owe you thanks for saving my life.”

  That didn’t sound very gracious, but it was the best she could do right now. She didn’t trust the man. How could she? He’d let her sister down. He’d brought danger to her home.

  The chair scraped against the floor. He sat down across from her, planting his elbow on the table, making the pine surface instantly smaller. Obviously he wasn’t just going to go away. That would be too simple.

  “I’m sorry.”

  She looked up, startled, to meet his gaze. “Sorry?”

  “For your sister’s death. For your trouble.” He made a small, seemingly involuntary gesture with his hands, and his brown eyes darkened with what looked like genuine sorrow. Her throat tightened. She wouldn’t cry in front of him. She wouldn’t. But it took all her strength to hold the tears back. “Thank you.” Her voice was husky. He let the silence stretch between them for a moment. Then… “You knew Ruby was in Montana.”

  For a moment his persistence angered her. But what was the point in keeping it secret? She couldn’t protect Ruby now.

  “I knew. She wasn’t supposed to tell me, but she did.”

  “How? Did she call you? Write to you?” He leaned toward her, face intent. She shook her head. “She let me know near the end of the trial. The FBI agents brought her to the library where I was working to say goodbye.”

  “They’d have stayed with her the whole time.” His tone showed he doubted her.

  “Ruby was an old hand at fooling people.” She almost smiled at the thought. “She fiddled with one of the reference books on my desk while we talked. I didn’t think anything of it. I’m sure the agents didn’t, either. But afterward I found the slip of paper she’d stuck in it. Montana, it said. That’s all.”

  “She was in touch again.”

  She looked at him, startled. “No. I told you. I never heard anything more from her.”

  Level brows lifted above stony brown eyes. “You expect me to believe that you quit your job and moved across the country on the basis of that one word.” Flat with doubt, his voice challenged her.

  Anger flared. “I don’t know what to expect of you, Deputy Marshal McGraw, but that happens to be the truth.”

  He leaned back in the chair, putting a few more inches between them. Stared at her, his eyes dark and intense. Waited.

  She waited, too. If he thought he was going to trick her into explaining an act she didn’t quite understand herself, he’d wait a long time.

  Finally he lifted an eyebrow again. “So. That’s it? You just moved out here on a whim. You figured fate would bring you back in touch with your sister if you were in the same state?”

  Pain twisted inside her. That was exactly what she’d thought. But it hadn’t.

  “If I thought that, then I was wrong, wasn’t I? I didn’t get to see her, and now she’s dead.”

  You were supposed to protect her. She didn’t say the words, but he was probably smart enough to know she was thinking them.

  “Let’s go over it again,” he said. “Tell me exactly what happened when…”

  The back door opened before he could finish. One of the uniformed men met McGraw’s eyes, jerked his head toward the backyard.

  McGraw rose. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  She made no move, watching as he left the room. Then reaction set in, and her hands trembled. She clasped them, pressing her palms together.

  She couldn’t let the man get to her like this. She was not at fault in what had happened, and she wouldn’t let him make her feel like a criminal.

  Shoving her chair back, she got to her feet, grasping the table for a moment as if she were an old woman. Then she moved toward the living room door. Surely they were finished by now. Maybe she could straighten up in there. She pushed the door open, stepped through and stopped. Stared. And caught her breath on a sob.

  “Get anything more from her?” Arthur Phillips, Micah’s immediate superior, blew out a breath on the frosty air, sending up a misty cloud.

  “Not much.” Micah shoved his hands in his pockets.

  “According to her, Ruby tipped her that she was being sent to Montana right under the noses of the agents who were guarding her. Says she moved out here but never heard from Ruby again.”

  “You believe she actually came here just on the chance she’d run into her sister?”

  Micah considered. He’d been skeptical, too, but… “We
might want to push some more on that, but it sounded genuine.”

  “Could be, I guess. They were identical twins, so I suppose the bond runs pretty deep.” Phillips’s cold blue eyes surveyed him. “Or she could be involved herself in the mess Ruby was in. That would account for the shooters coming after her.”

  Micah nodded slowly. “It still doesn’t make much sense. Why did they need to kill both twins? And I told you what I heard the shooter say.”

  “‘What if this isn’t the right one, either?’” Phillips repeated the words that had been echoing in Micah’s head for the past hour or so. “What did he mean? Why was Ruby not the right one? And if she wasn’t…”

  “Like I said, it doesn’t make sense.”

  Phillips’s scowl said he didn’t like things that didn’t make sense. “Whatever it means, the Summers woman needs both investigation and protection. You think you can talk her into moving somewhere safe?”

  “I can try. She doesn’t seem to trust us too much.”

  “Try hard. Convince her we’re the good guys. I want to be sure she’s safe and someplace where we can get our hands on her until we figure out what’s going on.”

  Phillips’s tone dismissed him. Nodding, Micah turned back to the house.

  He’d said Jade didn’t trust them, but as far as he could see, that mistrust was aimed straight at him personally. And he suspected Jade had a fierce stubborn streak behind her prim, soft exterior. He pushed into the kitchen. She wasn’t there, but a sound came from the living room beyond. He went through the room in a few quick strides. Jade knelt over the remains of a curio shelf the shooters had knocked off the wall. Her shoulders shook and tears rained down her face.

  “Are you all right?” As he neared, he saw that the shelf had contained a collection of crystal bells, shattered now beyond any hope of repair. “Careful. Don’t cut yourself.”

  “I won’t.” She stood, keeping her face averted, probably not wanting him to see her cry.

  “I’m sorry. I’m afraid they’re a total loss. Were they a special memento?” The bells must mean something, to bring her to tears.

  “No.” Her voice turned cool as she swung to face him. “It’s nothing. I’d just like to clean up in here, if you people are finished.”