The Third Twin

He shrugged. “The cops have been combing the place since Lucky found your mother’s grave. I would have thought it unlikely, but I suppose it’s possible one of them stumbled on the entrance.”

His dog had found a grave? Alexis floundered helplessly, but some sort of response seemed indicated.

“Is that likely?”

“I didn’t think so. I patched the hole on the work side of the wall, and you know how well-concealed the closet entrance is. They would have had to run their hands all over the wood paneling inside the closet to find the depression that opened the door. But maybe they noticed the hole I patched on the other side. I didn’t think anyone would notice since we’re working in that room, but—”

He broke off abruptly, staring past her. Alexis didn’t have to turn around to know Wyatt had come up behind her.

“R.J., could you give Leigh a lift back to Stony Ridge?”

She turned to face Wyatt, oddly disappointed by his change of heart.

“I have to go to Heartskeep,” he explained.

“I thought you had nothing to do all day.”

“Occasionally it pays to be related to the chief. I’ve been reinstated to active status.” He looked at the man called R.J. “Pete’s wife just went into labor. The chief had assigned him to take my place as liaison, but now I have to get out there and take over again.”

“Guess we’ll need another catcher for tomorrow’s game then,” R.J. said. “Actually, Wy, I was on my way out to Heartskeep myself. I need my portable generator. Think they’ll let me remove it?”

“I don’t see why that would be a problem. I’ll get you inside. You’ll be able to give Leigh a lift back to town?”

He looked pointedly at the briefcase in her hands.

“Uh, sure. No problem.”

“Thanks.”

Wyatt didn’t look at her again. He turned and started back to his car. Her sense of loss was totally irrational. Alexis had wanted to get away from him. Even more so now that she knew he was a cop. She should be relieved.

A dark, furry head suddenly nudged her side, knocking her off balance. Lucky stared up at her with friendly, deep chocolate eyes. At least the dog liked her.

“I’d pet you, but I have my hands full.”

“Sorry, Leigh,” R.J. said. “Let me take that and throw it in back.”

Alexis hesitated. She eyed the large dog as he sat on his haunches to lick traces of ice cream from his muzzle. “Will he eat it?”

R.J. paused as if considering that seriously. “I don’t think so, but we’ll let him ride in the back of the cab with us.”

Before she could protest, he lifted the briefcase from her hands and tossed it into the bed of the truck. It landed with a heavy thud.

“What do you have in that thing? Bricks?”

“Paper.” Hundreds of pieces of expensive paper.

“Hop in. Wyatt’s waiting.”

Lucky immediately jumped into the back. He wasn’t interested in getting inside the hot cab of the truck and Alexis couldn’t blame him. Not wanting to call any more attention to the briefcase, she assured R.J. it would be okay and crossed her fingers.

Climbing up into the high cab in her skirt wasn’t easy. She was aware of Wyatt watching from his car as R.J. had to give her a boost up.

As he started the engine, R.J. immediately clicked off the radio, but not before she realized he had it set to a classical station.

“You can leave that on. I like classical music.” R.J. raised his eyebrows.

Because the real Leigh didn’t like classical music?

“That’s okay. I like an occasional change of pace from the country-western music most of my crew listens to all day,” he said as if feeling a need to explain his choice of music.

Based on his dusty jeans, dark T-shirt, work boots and the fact that she’d noticed a hard hat on the back seat, Alexis deduced R.J. had something to do with construction. Those sinewy muscles didn’t come from pumping iron in some gym.

“How’s Gavin’s hand? Think he’ll be able to play ball tomorrow?” R.J. asked conversationally.

She wished he’d turned the radio back on instead of trying to make polite conversation.

“Do all of the men in town play ball with Wyatt?” she asked to avoid answering his impossible question. Then she realized Leigh probably knew the answer to that. Fortunately, R.J. didn’t seem to think it an odd thing to ask.

“Most of them,” he agreed. “If they don’t play on our team, they play on Granger’s team.”

“Oh.” She settled back, biting on her lower lip. She couldn’t keep up this deception much longer. Sooner or later she was bound to say the wrong thing. She stared out the window as R.J. followed Wyatt’s car onto the two-lane country road.

It wasn’t long before stretches of field lined both sides of the road, tucked behind impossibly neat fences and massive old trees. Soon she began to catch glimpses of well-tended driveways that disappeared from sight, marked only by fancy-lettered signs and mailboxes. They were apparently entering the realm of country estates where breeding horses was a business as well as a hobby.

Alexis shifted nervously. Leigh and Hayley must have money if they lived near here. She was too tired to think through all the implications. Her thoughts weren’t even making sense to her anymore. They just kept spinning in circles.

A yawn caught her by surprise.

“Why don’t you lean back and close your eyes?” R.J. suggested. “You look tired.”

“That’s what Wyatt said.” Instantly she regretted mentioning his name.

“You know, Wyatt’s a good guy, Leigh. He and Gavin are close friends.”

She attempted to focus on R.J. “Are you trying to make some sort of a point here?”

His shoulders rose and fell. “Guess not.”

Maybe his cryptic words would make more sense if she could keep her eyes open and listen to what he was saying.

“I grew up with Gavin, if you’ll recall,” R.J. said casually. “When George and Emily first brought him to live with us, no one could get close to him. You and Hayley were pretty young back then and I know your mom and grandpa kept you protected, but I’m sure you heard some of the stories.” He grinned impishly. “They were mostly true. The Walkens had their hands full with our wild group in the early days. Gavin was every bit as tough as they claim.”

Alexis didn’t know how to respond. Fortunately, R.J. didn’t seem to expect a response.

“Wyatt’s uncle had just been promoted to police chief. I think he always resented George and Emily for bringing juvenile delinquents to live in his community. I know Chief Crossley was always looking for an excuse to lock one of us up, especially Gavin. Gavin never backed down and he never gave an inch. Heck, if it hadn’t been for you that last time, Crossley would have tried to pin old man Wickert’s murder on him.”

There was no way Alexis could mask her shock.

“Yeah, I know neither of you wanted anyone to know how you alibied Gavin that night, but you know how gossip flies in Stony Ridge. The story was all over town five minutes after they released Gavin. He never said a word to anyone about what happened, Leigh, but I know he was real upset when your dad shipped you and your sister off to Boston right afterward.”

R.J. was painting a fascinating, if confusing, picture of the dynamics of Stony Ridge.

“Look, the point I was trying to make is that Gavin and Wyatt are both good guys. I don’t want to see anyone getting hurt. Everyone knows how you and Hayley feel about cops, but don’t play games with either of them, okay? If you and Gavin are having a personal problem, don’t put Wyatt between the crosshairs.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m not blind, Leigh. Even I could see the sparks flying between you and Wyatt a few minutes ago.”

Alexis inhaled sharply.

“I’m not trying to get in your business. Just be sure you’re straight with Gavin first. You don’t want to pit two strong men like that against each other. The results would be ugly.”

“I wouldn’t do that.” At least, not intentionally.

“Glad to hear it. You might want to scrunch down on the floor,” he said. “We’re coming up on the entrance and it looks like the press is still camped outside the front gate. If they catch a glimpse of you, we’ll never get inside.”

Alexis saw several vehicles parked along the side of the road up ahead. Still thinking about R.J.’s advice, Alexis slipped off her seat belt and tried to make herself invisible against the floor. The last thing she needed was to have a microphone thrust in her face.

As hard as it was to believe R.J. had picked up on her attraction to Wyatt, she appreciated the warning. She didn’t need to complicate someone else’s love life, either.

She was attracted to Wyatt, but she certainly wasn’t going to act on that attraction. She already had one man too many in her life. She was still trying to convince her roommate’s cousin, Seth, that she wasn’t interested in the young vet as more than a friend.

Of course, after the way she’d stood him up last night, that was probably no longer an issue. She would have preferred a kinder way to let him down, but she could hardly have answered the door with her father lying dead in her bedroom.

Still, she couldn’t afford to become embroiled in a farce here in Stony Ridge with her look-alike’s men. She was going to have to find a way out of this mess, fast.

As R.J. brought the truck to a halt outside the gates, she thought about the insanity of the entire situation. She shouldn’t have come here. Only how else could she learn the truth behind her father’s note and all that money?

Lucky barked. R.J. waved to someone and the truck began moving again. It bounced around as if they were driving off-road.

“Sorry,” R.J. said. “The crew is scheduled to start work on your driveway the day after tomorrow. I hope Wyatt will let me know whether I should cancel the gravel delivery. I hate to have to reschedule with those people, but I guess that’s going to depend on the cops. We’re out of sight of the gate. You can get up now.”

“Think so?” she asked wryly as the truck’s front wheel hit a rut deep enough to swallow a lesser vehicle.

“Sorry,” he repeated.

As she climbed back onto the seat, Alexis found herself riding beneath a canopy of old trees whose limbs stretched to obscure the sky. This was a driveway? It meandered more like a road. Alexis had to stifle a gasp of shock as Heartskeep appeared around a bend. This was Leigh’s idea of a house?

Only the very wealthy would call a massive structure like this a home. The building rose against the sky, silent, defiant, eerie. In the section of New Jersey where she’d grown up, a place this size would qualify as a hotel.

R.J. pulled into the circular driveway, already filled with state police cruisers and other vehicles. One wing of the building appeared to be undergoing major renovations. Judging by the heap of rubble piled inside an enormous Dumpster container, fire had struck Heartskeep as well as that building in town. A shiver of apprehension traveled down her spine.

“This should only take me a minute or so,” R.J. told her.

Wyatt had already stepped out of his car. Lucky gave a happy woof and leaped down to join him. Alexis opened her door. Wyatt came toward her with an inscrutable expression. His hands went to her waist and he lifted her clear of the truck without effort.

Her heart hammered recklessly at the intimate touch. He set her down and her hands slid along his shoulders in an unanticipated caress. Her skirt had ridden up her thighs once more. Feeling the heat scalding her cheeks, she smoothed it back into place, grateful to have a reason to look away from those knowing eyes.

R.J. came up behind them and Wyatt turned.

“Get what you need,” Wyatt told his friend. “If anyone says anything, tell them to see me.”

R.J. frowned. It was obvious he wanted to say something. He looked from Wyatt to her and then shrugged. With casual thanks, he mounted the porch steps and disappeared inside the house, Lucky at his heels.

Wyatt turned back to face her. Alexis found herself wishing she didn’t find him so fascinating. He wasn’t doing a thing to exert this sensual pull, yet it was there between them all the same.

“I owe you an apology,” he said without preamble. “I want to help you, Leigh. If you’ll let me.”

For one crazy, reckless instant, she was once more tempted to hand him the briefcase and to tell him everything. The relief would be exhilarating.

He pulled a pen and notebook from his pocket. Scrawling something on one of the pages, he tore it off and handed it to her.

“That’s my cell phone number. It’s always on. Call me when you’re ready to talk.”

Her chest was so tight with suppressed emotions, Alexis thought she might explode. Watching him stride up the sagging porch steps and into the house, she wondered if she’d just made a terrible mistake by not telling him the truth. Then she noticed the uniformed officer leaning against the railing near a corner of the house. He’d been watching the exchange with interest and now eyed her curiously. Alexis made a snap decision.

“Excuse me, could you help me get something out of the back of the truck?”

Seconds later, the heavy briefcase in hand, she strode through the front door as if she owned the place. And came to a dead halt. Her entire apartment would fit inside the massive marble foyer. She’d never seen anything like this.

A grand piano sat beneath a wide, open staircase. Beyond that was the largest living room she had ever seen—big enough to be a hotel lobby, and about as inviting, despite the expensive-looking furniture. Almost completely open on three sides, the room seemed to stretch forever in all directions. Marble pillars supported a balcony that wrapped around the entire room. There was no ceiling. The room stretched upward like some dark wooden tunnel that peaked at two enormous skylights on the roof far overhead.

To her left was the roped-off area where construction had been started. To her right, one of a pair of double doors stood open to reveal what appeared to be a library. A fireplace stood against the far wall. The rest of the room was filled with books resting on floor-to-ceiling bookcases.

A flutter of excitement sent her moving in that direction. The answers to all her questions must be here, somewhere inside this vast house.

The library was spacious, as well, but in here at least there was a welcoming feel. She realized that the library connected with another room. Curious, she crossed to the partially open door and peered inside. An office this time, with a bank of computer equipment lining one wall. A comfortable-looking leather couch, several chairs and an absolutely gorgeous walnut desk didn’t clutter the space at all. There were more bookcases here, as if it were a continuation of the library.

The proportions of the rooms were astounding. The house could have been designed for giants.

Leigh crossed to the desk and set the briefcase on the floor behind it. Her heart pounded with excitement. There were two more doors. One led back out to the hall, the other revealed a spacious bathroom with an exit into the hall. She closed all three doors, not wanting to be caught snooping.

Several framed photographs sat on the bookshelves. Alexis crossed to examine them and her lungs forgot how to breathe. Even though she’d begun to suspect as much, coming face-to-face with her own features filled her with so many conflicting emotions that all she could do was stand there and shake.

There was no way to tell how long ago the first picture had been taken, but at a guess, the two women were about sixteen. Despite the age difference between them, they didn’t merely look like her—they looked exactly like her. Only their hairstyle was different.

In the picture their honey-brown hair hung halfway down their backs. Alexis had never worn her hair that long. Her mother always claimed long hair was too much trouble. She’d convinced Alexis to cut hers whenever it started to grow long.

Hair length aside, these women smiled for the camera with her smile. They stared into the lens with her eyes. Not cousins or aunts. Leigh and Hayley Thomas looked identical to her in every way.

“Oh, here you are,” R.J. said.

Startled, she hastily set the photo down.

“I’ll be ready to go in a minute,” he said. “Wyatt says the state police expect to be finished with the house this afternoon. Do you want me to have my crew back out here tomorrow?”

“I guess so,” she responded nervously. “As long as it’s all right with the police.”

“Okay, I just need to load the generator into the back of the truck and we’ll be all set.”

“I’m going to stay here.”

“Um, Leigh, I don’t think they’ll let you.”

She faced him squarely. “I’m not going to ask permission.”

“Oh.”

“R.J.? Thank you. I promise, no pitting.”

For a second he looked blank, then he made the connection. “Glad to hear it. Are you sure about staying?”

“I’m sure,” she said forcefully.

“Uh, all right, then. I’ll let you argue it out with Wyatt. See you later.”

“Yes,” she agreed.

When he was gone, her eyes swept the shelves once more, staring at the scattered pictures. Most were of the twins at different ages, but there were also several pictures of a woman who could only be their mother.

Her mother.

Alexis stared at the woman’s face. There was no mistaking the resemblance. Alexis had always known that she looked nothing like either one of the people who had raised her, but she’d never wondered about that. How could she have been so blind? Her entire life had been a lie.

The pain of the betrayal was so powerful she wanted to crumple into a ball. How? Why? The hurt was far too intense for tears. She felt numb to her soul.

Alexis lifted the photograph of the woman who was most likely her real mother. Despite the similarities of their features, it could have been anyone’s face staring back at her. The woman was a total stranger.

Lightly she traced the heart-shaped face with a fingernail. She looked like her mother. Alexis’s gaze flicked to the picture of her sisters. They looked like her mother.

How was this possible?

Why had it happened?

The questions repeated themselves over and over again. Alexis closed her eyes. Her throat felt squeezed so tight her breathing was labored, a loud harsh sound in the silence of the room. She opened her eyes. Hurt and anger would have to come later. Answers were what she needed, and time was running out. Anyone could come in and find her here.

Wyatt could find her here. And part of her wished he would.

She set the photograph down and stared at the two young women who bore her face. Leigh and Hayley. Her sisters.

How long ago had this picture been taken? The photograph itself gave no clue. She’d never heard of siblings looking so completely identical—unless they were born from a single egg. There was only one answer that made any sense. Her sisters weren’t twins, the three of them were triplets. They had to be.

There. She’d acknowledged what she’d begun to suspect before she’d even arrived at Heartskeep. Why else would Wyatt and R.J. have accepted her as Leigh so readily? But, Alexis didn’t look sixteen, so these must be older photographs. She began to hunt for proof.

Judging by the desk drawers, she wasn’t the first to go hunting for something in this office. The police would have searched it, of course, but there had to be something that could give her a few answers.

How had their mother been murdered? More important, when had she been murdered? Did it have something to do with the money in the briefcase? Everything kept coming back to that cursed case.

Alexis moved back into the library and scanned the bookshelves. She stopped when she came to an old family bible dating back several generations. In the back were pages for listing family members. It wasn’t the past that interested her, but the final three entries held her riveted.

Alexis Mary Ryder had been printed with a careful hand in blue ink. A bold line with an arrow had been drawn from her name at the end of the column, to an insertion point above Hayley Hart Thomas. The letters DBH were written in the margin beside the line.

Alexis didn’t have to go far to link the name that went with the initials. DHB: Dennison Barkley Hart, her maternal grandfather.

Instead of answers, she only had more questions. One in particular overrode the rest. How had her grandfather known of her existence? Was this why she’d been warned not to trust anyone?

Her gaze swept the room. She took in the expensive furniture, the rows of books, the lovely stone fireplace. Was the money in that briefcase intended as a bribe for her father’s silence? If so, who was Kathy?

Alexis scanned the list of names once more. No one even close to that name was listed in the bible.

A headache began to pound with vicious fury behind her eyes. Alexis bit down on her lip. The note’s warning was obvious now. Her sisters had every reason to want her dead. Heartskeep should have been her home, too. She was an heiress. How was she supposed to deal with this?

Her fingers delved into the pocket of her skirt and touched the folded piece of paper Wyatt had given her. She didn’t need to call. She could go upstairs right now, find him and dump the whole mess in his strong, capable hands. He’d wanted her to talk. Well, she certainly had a story to tell him.

Except Wyatt was a cop. His warm, caring expression would change the minute she told him what had happened to her father—or rather, the man she had always believed to be her father. Someone had killed him for the briefcase—and maybe for what he knew. They would do the same to her when they found her.

Her father must have known how dangerous the situation was, yet he hadn’t sent her to the police, he’d sent her to a lawyer, but the lawyer was also dead. There had to be a reason.

If it had been hard to think before, it now seemed impossible. Alexis wasn’t used to being indecisive. Working as she did with runaways and pregnant teens meant making decisions every day. Standing here like a vegetable would accomplish nothing. She needed to hide the money until she could figure out what to do—and who to trust.

Retrieving the heavy case, she peered into the hall. There were voices at the back of the house. She listened for Wyatt’s deep tones without success. It was just as well. She had no idea what to say to him anyhow.

With no one in sight, she hurried up the front stairs. The second floor was eerily silent. The hairs on the nape of her neck bristled. She felt a stirring of malevolence, as if her presence disturbed something that didn’t want her here.

The notion was ridiculous, simply the fantasy of a tired mind. Subconsciously her brain was trying to make her acknowledge that no one was going to want her here once they realized who she was.

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