by Ty Patterson
The day dragged on as some days did.
Beth yawned and glanced at her watch.
‘Mark’s coming?’ her sister asked. They weren’t just sisters, they were twins, Meghan the elder one.
Brown-haired, green-eyed, vivacious, sassy, beautiful—a newspaper had once devoted a page length of adjectives to describe them. This was after a mission had made them into celebrities.
‘Yeah, what about you? You still dating that Wall Street guy?’
‘Nah.’ Meghan stretched. ‘I’m out of the dating scene.’
Mark was Beth’s significant other. A cop in the NYPD. The two were close, very close. Everyone approved.
Beth rose to make them coffee when the phone rang.
She quirked an eyebrow as she listened silently.
‘Send them up,’ she replied and hung up.
‘Who was it?’
‘You’ll see.’
Four men entered their office through the elevator.
In the front were two large men, as large as Bwana, but these two had none of his grace.
They had muscles, but developed in gyms and aided by the generous use of steroids.
They had short dark hair and wore well-cut suits, bulges under their jackets.
Behind them were two men, one wearing a pin-striped suit, carrying a briefcase, while the other was more casually dressed.
He was blond, tieless, blue jacket over white shirt, blue jeans, and brown shoes.
‘Beth and Meghan Petersen?’ Pinstripe halted and looked in their direction.
‘That’s us,’ Meghan answered and gestured at a few seats.
The heavies, for that was who they were, stood silently as Pinstripe and Blue Jacket seated themselves.
‘I’m Ken Farrell,’ Pinstripe introduced himself. ‘And this is—’
‘We know who he is,’ Meghan said drily.
Cole Patten, Blue Jacket, was a billionaire. He was in his late thirties and had inherited a steel empire when he was young, very young.
He had built on his inheritance and multiplied it several times. He was frequently in the news, and not always for the right reasons.
There were frequent rumors that his business dealings were shady and that he had links to criminal gangs.
He dated Hollywood actresses and models, and his social life was avidly covered by the gossip magazines.
Farrell looked around him before settling his eyes on the twins. ‘I expected a bigger office. More people.’
Neither of the sisters responded. They knew each other well and often could read the other’s mind.
Farrell cleared his throat in the silence and smiled a warm smile. One that said, I am your best friend. The sisters immediately distrusted him.
‘We want to hire you.’
‘And you are?’ Beth asked him bluntly.
‘I’m sorry, I should have explained. I’m Cole’s lawyer.’
‘We are not for hire, Mr. Farrell,’ she cut him off. Mark would arrive soon. Beth wanted the visitors out as quickly as possible.
‘Why don’t you hear us out, ma’am?’
‘Sorry, not interested. I let you in just to see what a billionaire looked like and who he moved around with. A lawyer and two heavies. We’ve seen our fill. Besides, there’s all those rumors about the legality of Patten’s businesses. Not to our liking. There’s the elevator. Thank you.’
Farrell made to speak but kept quiet when Patten laid a hand on his shoulder.
‘I came to you because I have a particular problem.’ His voice was pleasant, his eyes warm. ‘One that I think you can help with, given that you are twins.’
‘What’s that?’
‘I am missing. I want you to find me.’
Chapter Two
‘You’re missing?’ Beth twirled a pencil in her fingers, her face giving nothing away.
Ken Farrell nodded. ‘It’s like this—’
‘Not you,’ she cut him off. ‘Let him explain.’
Farrell’s expression didn’t change. Either he was a highly experienced lawyer, or he had a thick skin.
Both. A billionaire doesn’t hire cheapos.
‘What do you know of me?’ Cole Patten gave them a searching look.
‘Assume we know nothing.’
The steel magnate nodded and began.
Cole and Josh, twins, had been born to Rachel and Billy Patten, thirty-eight years back, in Chisholm, Minnesota.
Their father was a Vietnam vet, and on his return from the war, he had bought a iron ore mine near their hometown.
Rachel’s family owned a chain of motels and hotels in the state. They’d loaned Billy Patten the seed money, five million, to buy the failing mine. Funds that he had repaid several times over.
Billy Patten was smart, hardworking, and a charmer. He cajoled and coaxed, threatened and negotiated, and turned the mine around. Once it was profitable, he bought another. And then another. By the time the brothers were seven years old, he had grown the steel business into a large empire.
‘It was then that he took us to Vietnam,’ Cole Patten reminisced.
Beth remembered some of the headlines but kept quiet, letting their visitor tell his story.
‘We were young. Seven. All we knew was that our dad was a hero. He never spoke of the war. Mom? She died when we were two. Don’t remember much of her. Dad brought us up by himself. He had some help from Mom’s sister, Ginny Davis, but not much. Mom’s side of the family wasn’t that close.’
‘What happened in Vietnam?’ Meghan reminded him.
‘Vietnam? The war defined Dad. It shaped him. It gave him the drive. He would say if it hadn’t been for the war, he wouldn’t have been a businessman. He took both of us to Ho Chi Minh City. And from there, to Cu Chi.’
Cu Chi. Beth exchanged a glance with her sister. The place was synonymous with underground tunnels that the Viet Cong had built. It was in those dark, deep passages that they had waged a savage war against the American, Australian, and New Zealand forces.
‘Your father was a Tunnel Rat?’
‘Yes. He wanted us to see that country. Show where he had been. He took us to one of the tunnels. You might have read of this…’ He trailed off.
Beth made a carry on gesture with her hand and Patten nodded.
‘He took us to one of the restricted areas. The tunnel was weak in that area. Walls were crumbling. It collapsed on us. I fainted. Next thing I remember, I was in the hospital, and Dad and Josh were dead.’
Bwana shifted on his couch but didn’t speak. No one uttered a word until Patten resumed.
‘Farrell’s law firm was representing us. Has been the family and business law firm for years. They made all the arrangements. I returned. Inherited the steel business. There was a hotel chain too. That would have gone to Josh.’
‘I don’t recall a hotel business being mentioned’—Beth narrowed her eyes—‘whenever your name comes up.’
Patten smiled. ‘That’s because it’s still in a trust. I have nothing to do with it. I run the Chisholm Corporation, which is in steel. It, too, was in a trust until I turned eighteen.’
‘You took it public a while back. Expanded. Bought mines and operations across the world. Chisholm is what, the second- or third-largest steel business in the world?’
‘It’s in the top five,’ Patten replied self-deprecatingly.
‘You’re a billionaire.’ Beth ticked off on her fingers. ‘You’re single. You own one of the largest businesses in the world. You’re well-protected.’ She nodded at the goons standing silently. ‘And you seem to have good advice.’ Her lips curled in the lawyer’s direction.
‘What’s gone wrong in your heaven?’
‘A year back, a Russian business reached out to us and made an offer for the business. I refused. Selling wasn’t in our plans, and the price was low.’
‘So?’
‘So, this year, a few months back, they launched a hostile takeover. They’ve started buying stock. Not just that, they’ve s
tarted playing dirty.’
‘How?’
‘Billy Patten’s will was specific,’ Farrell stepped in, his voice dry and precise. ‘In the event of his death, Cole was to inherit the steel business, while the hotel chain would go to Josh.
‘But Josh is dead,’ Beth exclaimed, ‘What has happened to the hotels business?’
‘It is managed by the trust.’
Farrell waited for a moment and when there were no further questions, resumed.
‘The Russian firm is claiming that Cole Patten isn’t who he is. They say Cole died in Vietnam. The man in front of you is Josh Patten, according to them.’
The sisters gaped at the lawyer for a few seconds. ‘What? That should be easy to prove, shouldn’t it?’
‘I wish it was.’ Farrell allowed a grimace to appear on his face. ‘There are no DNA records. No fingerprints. No hair samples. No distinguishing marks that tell one twin from the other. Nothing remains of Josh Patten. Even if it did, there’s nothing to conclusively say this is Cole and the sibling who died was Josh.’
‘What about you? Surely you knew the brothers.’
‘No, ma’am. My father used to handle Billy Patten and Chisholm’s affairs in those days. I met Cole for the first time when my father arranged for him to be brought back from Vietnam. My father died soon after that, and I stepped in.’
‘Your dad? Surely he confirmed Cole Patten’s identity?’
‘Not explicitly. His health was failing. He was in the hospital. His people did all the work. He met the boy just a few times, and then Cole went into counseling and therapy. My father never recovered and didn’t meet Cole subsequently.’
‘What about Billy Patten and Rachel’s families?’
‘Billy was an only child. Rachel’s sister, Ginny, is still alive. However, she wasn’t close the Pattens and she couldn’t identify the twins. We checked. Billy and Rachel’s parents are dead. There’s no one left on Billy’s side. There are a few other relatives on Rachel’s side, but they are distant. None of them could tell the boys apart.’
‘What about birth records?’
‘They don’t prove anything. They have just names, dates and not much else. There is no way to prove that Cole’s certificate is his. Cole is elder by a few minutes, that’s all we know.’
‘What about friends?’
‘No friends to identify them. Cole Patten lived in New York after his return from Vietnam. This is his home now. He lost contact with the friends he grew up with. We reached out to a few, and they couldn’t prove anything.’
‘It’s his word against the Russian company’s.’ He sighed heavily.
‘I don’t believe this.’ Beth smacked her palm on her table. ‘These guys just waltz in and say Mr. Patten isn’t who he is? And there’s nothing to prove otherwise?’
‘We’ve run the brothers’ photographs through sophisticated aging programs. Shown them to the Russian firm’s lawyers. They aren’t convinced. They put up photographs of their own. It’s our word against theirs. Doesn’t cut much ice.’
‘In the meantime,’ the billionaire took over from his lawyer, ‘Chisholm Corporation’s share price has tanked. It’s reduced the company’s value. My board is unhappy. They want me to clear this matter up. Fast.’
‘How much of the company do you own?’ Meghan asked curiously.
‘Thirty percent.’
‘What happens if you turn out to be Josh Patten?’
‘The company will take over my ownership. There are specific conditions under which they can do so. This is one of them. But that’s not the end of it. I’ll be liable for criminal charges. For impersonating my brother. A whole world of trouble will open up.’
‘Are you Josh Patten?’ She looked him in the eye.
‘No, ma’am.’
‘Why us? You’re a billionaire. You can hire the best investigators. I’m sure the NYPD would help you.’
‘You have something none of them do.’ Cole Patten smiled thinly. ‘You’re twins.’
‘Why did you say you were missing?’
‘My father and Josh—their bodies were never found.
‘They’re still missing. Presumed dead.’
Chapter Three
Meghan rose and paced the room, a disbelieving look on her face. ‘Some Russian dude has accused you of not being you. Your father and brother are missing. There’s no way to prove your identity. You have any other surprises for us?’
‘So, you’re going to take my case?’ Patten countered with a trace of satisfaction in his voice.
‘We’re undecided,’ she replied firmly. ‘You have an interesting problem, but we have a rule of not working with criminals.’
‘My client is not a criminal,’ Farrell shot back, his back stiffening.
‘May not be in your eyes. But we can read between the headlines. Those labor disputes that suddenly disappeared at his plants? Those few workers who brought a suit against him and abruptly faded away? All those rumors that Patten uses strong-arm tactics? They didn’t come out of nowhere, did they?’
‘They didn’t,’ Farrell said stiffly. ‘They were planted. Mr. Patten hasn’t broken the law, not once. He doesn’t even have a speeding ticket. You’re making baseless allegations.’
Meghan snorted inelegantly. ‘Why would he, when he has a chauffeur? And in this great city of ours that worships wealth, which cop would dare to issue him a ticket?’
Patten, who had been leaning back and watching the byplay with an amused smile, chuckled. ‘I told Ken you were the right people to help me. He wanted to go through a large firm. I’d followed your careers. All those articles and series on you. Knew you wouldn’t be awed by my status. You’ve proven me right.’
‘That’s supposed to flatter us, Mr. Patten?’ The North Pole couldn’t have been colder than Meghan’s voice. ‘You’re right. Your wealth means nothing to us. We don’t even like you. If we help you, it’ll be because the case interests us, not you.’
‘Twins. Think alike.’ Beth snapped her fingers when Patten and Farrell turned to her as if seeking her opinion.
A couch creaked, Roger rising from it to pad silently into the kitchen. Bwana lay where he was, watching, listening, his body relaxed, his face expressionless.
‘Those two your heavies? I guess you need a couple, going by all that happened to you.’ Farrell jerked his head in the blond man’s direction.
The sisters had become well known, nationally and internationally, when they had been abducted in New York. They had ended up in Syria, in the hands of terrorists, before being rescued. On their return, they had found themselves the center of media attention.
Interviews with them had run on for months. A TV channel had created a fictional series loosely based on them.
A Hollywood production house had gotten them to support a woman-directed movie that had become a worldwide blockbuster.
The attention had diminished as the media machine latched onto other public figures, but there were still times when they got recognized and a crowd formed around them.
They had discussed their celebrity status with Zeb and the crew. The Agency was covert. No one knew they worked for it. There was a danger that the media attention would expose the outfit.
To their astonishment, Zeb had asked them to embrace it.
‘The more attention on you, the higher the risk for potential kidnappers,’ he had clarified.
He didn’t dissuade them from taking on investigative cases. Not when there weren’t Agency missions running.
The twins were good at thinking laterally. Making connections that few others would spot. They were tenacious, had great instincts, and had successfully closed every case they had taken on.
They were special advisors to the NYPD’s commissioner, and between client referrals and the work they did for the police, they got a steady stream of cases.
They turned most of them down, since Agency missions took precedence. The ones they took on were special, challenging, cases that appealed
to them.
Like Cole Patten’s.
Meghan could see the interest in Beth’s eyes as Roger returned with a tray on which were a pot of coffee, several cups, and a plate full of cookies.
He placed it on a table and served Patten and Farrell silently.
His lips twitched when one of Patten’s goons snorted contemptuously, but he didn’t respond. Didn’t even look up.
Bwana sat straighter on his couch, his face all hard angles and planes. His eyes didn’t flick to the bodyguards, but Meghan knew he was aware of every move they made. Every breath they took.
A phone rang. Roger answered it, murmuring softly. He looked at Beth.
Mark? she mouthed silently.
He nodded.
Tell him I’ll be late.
‘Your dad.’ Beth bit into a cookie and closed her eyes momentarily in delight.
The cookies were made by a grandma who lived close by. She delivered a fresh batch each week. The sisters had helped her out once. So long as she was alive and able, the cookies would keep coming to Columbus Avenue.
‘You said he borrowed money from his wife’s family. Why didn’t he go to a bank?’ she asked Patten.
‘He tried. They turned him down. He had no track record of business, no collateral. They saw him as high-risk. My mom’s family were relatively well off. They had the hotel chain that Ken mentioned. They didn’t approve of the marriage. They thought their daughter could do better than marry a soldier. However, she was still their daughter. They loaned him the money in the hope it would do her good. The mine didn’t cost much. The owners were desperate to sell. Cash flow wasn’t what it had once been.
‘When will you decide?’ He placed his cup back on the tray.
‘When we’re ready,’ Meghan replied blandly.
‘That’s another reason I want you on my case.’ Patten looked intently at the sisters.
‘What’s that?’
‘I lost my memory. I don’t remember anything that happened before that accident.’
Chapter Four
Now we know why he came to us. Beth felt her sister’s glance and nodded imperceptibly.