by Pamela Toth
Emma paled. “So the killer really might be a woman. Is that where the blood sample came from?”
“From that and the victim’s fingernails.”
“I don’t remember reading anything about a locket,” Brandon mused. He’d looked up some articles about the murder after Emma had first been questioned.
Elizabeth raised her brows. “Right again. The police didn’t release that information.” She took back the photo. “The other curious thing about the locket is there was a partial fingerprint on it. The police weren’t able to match it to Christina. You’ve convinced me it won’t match your prints, either.”
Emma frowned. “If I do have a twin, wouldn’t our fingerprints be identical as well as our DNA?”
A smile spread slowly across Elizabeth’s face. “No, they wouldn’t. While we run down Emma’s birth certificate, I think we’ll have the lab run another test.”
“What’s the point?” Brandon asked impatiently. “We’ve been through this before.”
Elizabeth tapped her pen on the desk, her smile growing even wider. “In one of my recent cases, I had reason to study this. Even with identical twins, there can be markers in the DNA that don’t match. That’s what we’ll have them look for. While we’re at it, we’ll have some other tests run.” Her glance strayed to Emma’s hair. “They found trace evidence in the victim’s car, including some fiber samples and a few strands of hair. Did you happen to go blond last year?”
“No,” Emma replied, tucking a stray lock behind her ear. “I’ve never colored my hair.”
“Good.” Elizabeth read down the page in front of her. “What size shoe do you wear?”
“A seven,” Emma replied. “Did they find footprints?”
“Mmm-hmm. Some from Christina’s shoes along with prints from a hiking boot small enough to belong either to a woman or a teenage boy. Too bad your feet aren’t bigger, but this does go along with the possible twin theory. The reason they eliminated Homer Gilmore as a suspect after they found him with Christina’s license plate is because he has huge feet.”
“I wondered why they let him go,” Brandon muttered.
Elizabeth closed the file and glanced at her slim gold watch. “I’ll arrange for your blood test in the morning.”
“How long will the results take this time?” Brandon asked. How big a toll would waiting take on Emma?
“Don’t worry. I’m not a small-town police department. We’ll hear back in a day or two. Meanwhile, unless either of you has any questions, let’s call it a day.” She gave Emma a sympathetic glance. “Get some rest.” She jotted a number on the back of her business card and handed it to Emma. “Call me if you need anything. Stella always knows where I am and I’m never without my cell phone.” She extended her hand, first to Emma and then to Brandon.
“Thank you for helping me,” Emma murmured.
Brandon added his thanks to hers. He was still curious about what the two of them had discussed without him. Would Emma tell him?
“I haven’t helped you yet,” Elizabeth said, “but we’ll get to the bottom of this. Meanwhile, you might see that she takes care of herself,” she told Brandon.
Although he understood she was giving him something to do to keep him busy, he welcomed the task. “I’ll watch her like a hawk,” he vowed.
Moments later, as he and Emma were walking back to his car, he blew out a long breath. “How are you holding up?” he asked. “Are you hungry?”
She shook her head. “I’d just like to go back to the ranch, if that’s okay with you.”
The idea of having her in his bed again tonight sent desire surging through him. He tried to ignore it, but the need to reassert his claim was strong.
Damn, the last thing she should have to cope with was him crawling all over her. “I’ll bring you back to the lab in the morning,” he offered as he unlocked the passenger door of the Lexus.
Emma hesitated. “Uh, would you drop me off at my apartment instead. I can take my own car.”
“I don’t mind going with you.” Did she think he was letting her face any of this ordeal alone?
She ran a hand through her hair as her gaze slid away from his. “That’s okay, really. I know you must have other things you need to do.”
Was he being dismissed? Just because he was sleeping with Emma didn’t mean she had to tell him everything, he reminded himself. It was obvious that when it came to their relationship, they weren’t on the same page.
He opened her car door wider. “No problem.” He thought he saw a flash of anguish on her face before she got into the car, but he couldn’t be sure. Well, hell, she had plenty to be upset about without him adding to her stress.
Determined to not pressure her, he climbed in behind the wheel. As soon as he did, she leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “I’m sorry,” she murmured.
Immediately he turned his head so his mouth meshed with hers. He buried his fingers in her hair and held her head still. “There’s nothing for you to be sorry for,” he replied after he’d forced himself to let her go.
As he turned the key in the ignition, he could have sworn he heard her whisper, “I wish that was true.”
Ten
It had been a long three days since Emma’s arrest and her subsequent release on bail. Despite Melissa’s reservations, Janie had insisted that Emma come back to work at the café. Staying busy helped move the hours along as she waited to hear from her attorney.
Last night Emma had insisted on coming back to her apartment. As much as she enjoyed staying at the ranch, it was time to reclaim her own life. The reporters, in search of other stories, were gone from her driveway when she arrived. Today as the slightly larger than usual lunch crowd finally tapered off, she took a moment to reminisce about the way she and Brandon had spent the early hours of the morning together in her bed. When she was with him, she almost forgot the sword hanging over her head.
Now she noticed a stranger at the counter watching her. His gaze shifted quickly and she wondered whether he was a reporter or just someone who wanted a good look at a criminal. She was tempted to offer him her autograph. Maybe she could sell them and put the money into her defense fund. She was going to owe Brandon a lot of money when this was over, but she was determined to pay him back every dime.
Although she was getting used to being gawked at and whispered about, it was exhausting to have to guard her every word and expression for fear it might be judged—or quoted in the morning newspaper. If she laughed, was she heartless? If she smiled, had she no remorse?
Yesterday she’d been taking an order when the customer, a woman Emma had never seen in town before, suddenly whipped out a tape recorder and asked if Emma was allowed to handle knives from the kitchen.
“Christina wasn’t stabbed,” she’d retorted before she could stop herself. “She was hit over the head. Aren’t you going to ask if I’m allowed to lift anything heavy?”
This morning a customer brought in a scandal rag bearing the headline, Suspect Admits Bashing Victim with Soup Pot. A little later, Elizabeth’s assistant had phoned Emma at the café and reminded her to keep her mouth shut.
“Elizabeth said to tell you we haven’t been able to run down a copy of your birth certificate yet, but that we expect to hear back on the DNA test either today or tomorrow, so we’ll be in touch.”
The hours since then had dragged, and Brandon had come by the Hip Hop twice this morning to ask if she’d heard anything. It was a miracle Emma could keep her orders straight.
It was a miracle he was still standing by her. Two days ago, after he’d brought her back to her car, Emma had insisted on driving herself out to the prison to see Lexine. Not that she had admitted to Brandon where she was headed.
Her stomach had twisted itself into a knot of apprehension as she waited, hoping Lexine might shed some light on the circumstances surrounding Emma’s birth. But the ordeal had been for nothing. Lexine had angrily denied having twins. She’d become so infuriated by Emma�
�s question that it had taken two guards to remove her from the visitors’ room.
Although Emma had been humiliated by Lexine’s outburst and deeply disappointed by the mission’s failure, Elizabeth remained optimistic. She had advised Emma to forget about that and focus instead on the fingerprint expert’s inability to link her to the partial print on the locket.
“How are you doing?” Janie asked now as Emma stared unseeingly at the blackboard where the daily specials were posted. Although being married to a deputy put Janie in a potentially awkward position, she’d made it clear to anyone willing to listen that she believed in Emma’s innocence. That was more than Rafe had done; except for a brief message on her machine asking how she was and piquing Brandon’s curiosity, he was keeping his distance.
Emma was just about to ask Janie if she could take a break when the bell over the front door jangled. Both women glanced around to see how many new arrivals had come in.
Emma’s heart climbed right into her throat when she saw Elizabeth standing in the entry surveying the room. Today her neatly tailored suit was forest green and her tasteful jewelry was gold.
Mingled hope, fear and denial all warred within Emma as her attorney’s gaze finally met hers. Emma’s knees wobbled uncontrollably and her feet were glued to the floor. Was it a good sign that Elizabeth had come in person, or a bad one? As Emma stared, afraid even to breathe or blink, Elizabeth stuck out her fist.
Her thumb was upraised in an unmistakable gesture of approval and triumph.
Janie let out a shriek that nearly stopped Emma’s heart and then the other waitress grabbed her around the waist. Earlier Emma had confided in them that she was waiting for the new test results.
As Charlene and the cook burst out of the kitchen to see what the commotion was, Elizabeth came over to where Emma stood trembling with relief.
“Corwin’s dropping the charges,” she said without bothering to lower her voice. “The person whose blood was on the locket never had a rubella vaccination and your sample shows unmistakably that you did.”
Emma was frozen in place, hardly daring to believe the nightmare could really be over. “Was that enough to convince him?”
“Without a shred of evidence to place you at the scene, he realized he had no case.” Elizabeth looked smug. “Even Corwin realizes that going to trial with nothing more than an eyewitness who sees UFOs and a telephone tip from an anonymous source would be a bit of a mistake.” She picked an invisible speck off her sleeve. “His office is drawing up the paperwork as we speak.”
“I’m free?” Emma whispered.
Elizabeth’s smile deepened the lines around her mouth and eyes. “Yes, Emma, now you’re officially free.”
Without thinking, Emma flung her arms around her attorney’s neck. “Thank you!”
Chuckling, Elizabeth patted her back. “You’re very welcome.”
Embarrassed by her impulsiveness, Emma let the other woman go. As she did, realization hit and she pulled Elizabeth aside.
“This means that you were right,” Emma whispered, her voice laced with horror. “I do have a twin sister, and she might be a murderer.”
“Don’t think about that,” Elizabeth replied quietly. “If that proves to be true, then she is no more connected to you than Lexine is.”
“She’s my twin,” Emma muttered. “Identical in every way.”
“No!” Elizabeth insisted. “Not identical. Her DNA is different, her fingerprints are different, and her character is vastly different from yours. She’s a stranger, one willing to let you take the heat for something she very probably did.”
Slowly the attorney’s words penetrated the haze of disappointment surrounding Emma like a cloud. She hadn’t thought of it that way. “Maybe she would have come forward eventually.”
Elizabeth gripped Emma’s upper arms and looked straight into her eyes. “Don’t count on it. She’s not you.”
Emma swallowed. “I suppose you’re right.”
“Of course I am,” Elizabeth drawled. “Now I’d imagine there are a couple of phone calls you’d like to make,” she reminded Emma. “And I’m meeting Garrett Kincaid for a late lunch.”
“Brandon!” Emma exclaimed. “I have to call Brandon.”
“Don’t forget your parents.” Elizabeth’s voice was dry. “I’m sure they’d appreciate hearing they won’t have to visit you in jail.”
Emma smiled sheepishly. She’d called them very reluctantly the evening of the day she’d made bail. They’d wanted to come right out, but she had managed to persuade them to hold off. “I’ll call them first,” she promised.
Elizabeth looked at her watch. “I’d better run—I’m due in court—but I do enjoy delivering good news in person.” After Emma thanked her again, she hurried away.
“Use the phone in Melissa’s office,” Janie suggested generously. “Under the circumstances, I don’t think she’d mind.”
Janie didn’t have to make the suggestion twice. As Emma hurried across the café, she was astonished at the number of people who’d overheard the news and wanted to offer their congratulations. Finally, as her face started aching from the wide smile she couldn’t suppress, she reached the office. Shutting the door behind her, she sat at Melissa’s desk and burst into tears.
Garrett hadn’t been this attracted to a woman since his beloved Laura had died after fifty wonderful years together.
“What’s next on your calendar?” he asked Elizabeth, who was seated across from him at Whitehorn’s only authentic English tearoom. Their lunch had gotten off to a festive beginning with her announcement about Emma. Garrett was pleased to hear that Brandon’s faith in her hadn’t been misplaced. In the game of love, the boy could do a darn sight worse than a sweet woman who clearly adored him.
Always priding himself on his ability to think on his feet, Garrett had taken the opportunity to give Elizabeth a congratulatory hug. To his surprise, she’d seemed no more eager to end the impromptu embrace than he’d been. In fact, her reluctance, as well as the way her attention seemed riveted on him throughout their meal, had prompted his last question.
“Actually, I do have a gap in my schedule,” she admitted now, the corners of her mouth turning up in the most delightful way. “Another case has been postponed for the prosecutor’s hernia surgery and a television show I was consulting on has been canceled by the network.” She stunned Garrett by fluttering her lashes provocatively. “Why do you ask?”
Her hand, adorned only by a thin gold ring set with diamonds, lay on the table. Garrett summoned his courage and covered it with his. The contrast between her soft translucent skin and his, as tough and tanned as old leather, wasn’t lost on him. Neither was the spark he felt at her touch when she turned her hand over and linked her fingers with his.
“I wondered if you’d be interested in visiting the ranch,” he said after he’d swallowed the wad of nerves in his throat. “It’s real pretty this time of year and you could stay as long as you like.”
Her eyes widened in surprise and he cursed himself silently for being such a fool. She was brilliant, educated and famous, everything he wasn’t. What would she—
“I’d love that,” she said, shocking the bejesus out of him.
As he gaped, unable to hide his astonished pleasure, she picked up her cup, as delicate as an eggshell, and took a sip of her tea. Above the rim, her eyes danced with warm laughter.
“Well, that’s fine,” he managed to say, feeling as gauche as an inexperienced schoolboy. “How soon can you come?”
She set her cup back in the saucer and leaned forward. “How soon do you want me?”
At the prison, Audra stared anxiously through the partition at Lexine, whose face had gone purple with rage. Audra had come out the minute she’d heard on the radio that all charges against Emma Stover in the murder of Christina Montgomery had been dropped. So much for her mother’s brilliant plan to divert any possibility of guilt from Audra, her own flesh and blood.
“Now what are
we going to do?” Audra hated the whine in her voice, but was powerless to prevent it. “I’m scared. What if they identify me in some way from that call I made? They’ll wonder why I was so eager for them to arrest that waitress. The next thing I know—”
“Will you shut up!” Lexine shouted into the receiver. “I can’t think with you wailing in my ear like a damn baby.”
Several other people in the visitors’ room turned to stare as Audra slid lower in her chair. She shouldn’t have come out here. Instead of appreciating all her attention, Lexine acted as though this latest fiasco was all Audra’s fault.
As she stared sullenly, resentment eating at her insides like acid, Lexine’s frown deepened. “You might as well leave,” she said bluntly, waving her hand in dismissal. “Don’t come back unless I contact you. I don’t want anyone connecting us and starting to wonder if I had some hand in that certain incident you told me about. We’d better both keep a low profile for a while.”
Audra opened and closed her mouth a couple of times, but nothing came out. Tears filled her eyes. Lexine needed her; she looked forward to these visits from her little girl. They brightened her lonely existence in this awful place. No one cheered her up like Audra did, or so she’d said before asking for cigarettes or nail polish or a magazine.
But now Lexine was cutting Audra off as though her visits meant nothing. Lexine was tossing her away again, just as she had when Audra was a baby.
The old hag was already serving consecutive life sentences for her crimes. What more did she have to lose?
“Why the hell are you crying?” Lexine demanded, her voice like a whip. “I’ve never seen such a spineless wimp.” She looked around carefully and then she lowered her voice. “You get your skinny butt back out there and find that mine,” she said through gritted teeth. “If I’m ever going to find a way to buy my way out of here and make the Kincaids pay for putting me here, I need those stones. So if you don’t want to find yourself in the next cell, you’d better damn well quit your sniveling and get busy!”