The Third Twin. Dani Sinclair
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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.