Deadly Double (10 page)

Read Deadly Double Online

Authors: Adrianne Byrd

BOOK: Deadly Double
8.73Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
“All right.” William clicked off the light. “Get yourself some rest.”
“William?”
“Yes?”
She hesitated, and then decided that she couldn’t ask. Not now, anyway.
“Don’t worry,” he said, when she didn’t respond. “I’ll still be here when you wake up in the morning.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
Chapter 14

The moment Josie closed her eyes she spiraled down a twister of disjointed memories. She tried to scream, but the velocity at which she fell swallowed her voice.

She was frightened and certain she’d never reach the bottom of the spinning vortex. Having never been a religious woman, she felt awkward in her prayer for help. Suddenly, everything stopped when she landed in a memory.

She was lying on something soft while tears were blanketing her face. Her heart pounded as she struggled to stifle her tears. Slowly she became aware of voices. Someone was in the room with her. The chore was difficult but she managed to lift her head and pry her eyes open.

Her dear friend, Calvin Anderson took her into his arms. “It’s going to be all right, Josie. You’ll see.”

“This can’t be happening,” Josie heard herself say. “I just talked to my father this morning. His plane was supposed to…”

“I know, sweetheart.” His arms squeezed around her. “Sometimes, these things happen without warning. He’s in a better place now.”

“He’s all I have.” She buried her head against his chest. “He can’t be gone. He just can’t.”

As suddenly as she’d arrived at the painful memory, a powerful force gripped her soul and pulled her into another one.

She sat solemnly in the front pew of the First Baptist Church as she listened to a beautiful rendition of
His eyes are on the sparrow.
Though the song reflected hope, Josie felt everything but the elusive emotion.

After the song ended, an endless parade of her father’s business associates and their bejeweled socialite wives took the podium to recount funny, happy, and bittersweet stories of Charles Ferrell.

Josie didn’t know how much longer she could sit in her prim-and-proper pose and listen to a bunch of strangers just go through the motions. It was disheartening how impersonal a funeral could really be.

Her gaze strayed from the podium’s latest speaker to dance among the multitude of flower arrangements. Even that kind gesture seemed to be a warped competition among the rich. Who can show they cared the most?

As an only child, Josie was uncomfortable at the amount of attention directed at her. She shot covert glances at other mourners in the church and could almost hear the question on everyone’s mind. How much money did she inherit?

But Josie would give every penny of the money back if God would just return her father.

Fresh tears spilled down her face. She dabbed at her eyes with her father’s old handkerchief, and then caressed the thin material’s embroidered initials.

Josie had lost her adoptive mother at the age of eight. Her father, unsure about raising a little girl on his own, shipped her off to the finest boarding schools in France. Despite growing up in another country, Josie and her father had developed a unique and strong bond, one she couldn’t believe was over so soon.

Within a blink of an eye, the service ended and Josie took center stage while strangers either shook her hand or enfolded her in cold embraces. Quite suddenly, she stood in front of her mirror image.

Josie blinked, convinced that her eyes were playing a trick on her.

The woman smiled. “You’re not going crazy. I’m real.”

Josie pulled back her veil as her gaze slowly raked the woman, but she was unnerved by the fact that not only did their hairstyles match, but they also wore the same black dress and shoes.

“I meant to introduce myself before the service, but I arrived late.” The woman jutted out a hand. “Michelle Andrews.”
Josie’s hand slid into Michelle’s while she continued to stare. “Are we cousins or something?” she asked.
Michelle held firm to her smile, but added a light chuckle. “We’re an ‘or something.’”
Josie’s mouth carved a deep frown.
“We’re twins,” Michelle announced, with a bubbly flare.
Before Josie could recall her response, she was once again yanked from the memory and propelled fast-forward.

After meeting Michelle, Josie didn’t return to her life in Paris, but instead decided to stay in Georgia in order to get to know her new sister.

Together they took it upon themselves to research their adoptions. However, after months of digging, they unearthed no real answers to why they were separated.

It was perhaps out of pity that Josie allowed her indigent sister to move into the Ferrell estate, but it wasn’t long before Josie realized that she’d made a mistake.

Here was where her memories clouded and meshed together. She controlled nothing, let alone her own mind. Through it all, Josie remained by her side...no, Michelle stood by her.

When had she started confusing their identity?

She struggled to concentrate while pictures blurred at an alarming rate. In no time at all, she was back in a blood-filled room with her wrist throbbing painfully at her side.

“Josie, Josie. Wake up.”
Josie lifted her hands and saw the deep slashes in her wrists and screamed.
“Josie, baby. Please wake up.”

Wrenched from the memory, Josie bolted upright in bed. An ear-piercing scream reverberated off the walls and boomed back at her to snap her out of her trauma.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. I’m here. It was just a dream.”
Josie blinked her dilated eyes and then focused on the man in front of her. “William,” she said, with a relieved sigh.
However, her heartbeat threatened to crack her breastbone, and her temples were a few pulses away from explosion.
He folded his arms around her, and, like a wilted violet, she shrank away.
“My head,” she moaned. “I need something for my head.”

William hesitated, and then sprang from the bed, only to return a minute later with two capsules and a glass of water. “Normally, it’s not a good idea to take any kind of drug during detox.”

She greedily swallowed the capsules and chased them down with the water. “Thank you.”
“What were you dreaming about?” he asked, and then brushed a few strands of hair away from her face.
“It wasn’t a dream,” she answered, but was careful to avoid his gaze.
“Then what were you remembering?”
Josie shook her head.
William huffed an impatient breath. “I’ve perched myself on a very slim limb, Josie. You can trust me.”

The edginess of his tone is what drew her direct gaze. When she probed his azure eyes, she was blindsided by a jolt of electricity that crackled clear down to her toes.

“Sorry.” A voice in her head demanded she look away, but she could no more do that than stop her own heart. “I was remembering things that had happened in the past year. Things I wish I could forget.”

“For example?”

“Meeting my sister.”

William folded his arms like an attentive doctor. “What is the story between you two? I could have sworn you didn’t have any siblings.”

“I didn’t.” Finally, her gaze fell. “We met at my father’s funeral.” The silence grew to a deafening crescendo before Josie chanced another look at him.

His compassionate stare met hers unblinkingly. “I’m sure it was a vulnerable time for you,” he said finally.

“Undoubtedly a calculated move on her part.” Josie rubbed at her neck to relax her tense muscles. “I’m still not sure how...”

The sentence was left suspended in the air for a full minute before William prodded gently, “Do you remember your suicide attempt?”

She closed her eyes, but a vision of blood-splattered hands forced them to spring open again. “I can’t do this right now.” Her voice trembled. “I’m sorry.”

William nodded and smiled. “I understand. We can talk about it at another time.”
Josie swallowed. She preferred never to talk about it, but knew that was impossible.
“Do you think you’ll be able to get back to sleep?” he inquired. “Maybe I can prepare you some warm milk or something.”
“I’m not sure if I want to.” She palmed her forehead and massaged the small wrinkles across it. “I’m hot, and I feel dirty.”
“How about a warm bath?”
She loved the idea of a bath, the hotter the water the better.
“I bought plenty of nightgowns for you.”
She managed a small laugh. “I hope it’s not the only thing you brought.”
“No.” He laughed along with her. “I grabbed a few other things.” He rose from the bed. “One warm bubble bath coming up.”
“Bubble bath?”
“Lavender, right?”
Her lips softened at it edges. “You remembered.”
“How could I ever forget?”

Another crackle of electricity buzzed through her. However, this time she was able to break her trance. “A lavender bubble bath would be wonderful. Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

The moment he turned away, Josie released the entrapped air in her lungs. Her gaze followed his tall figure as he disappeared into the en suite bathroom.

At the sound of running water, she slumped back against her pillows and compared this William Hayes to the hopeless romantic she had met and fallen in love with so long ago. He was still slender, though his chest was broader, more muscular than she remembered. His once smooth baby-face now held subtle character lines around his mouth and eyes.

His eyes, however, were unquestionably the same. The same intensity radiated in their depths. Despite the fact that he was being a very kind caregiver, a strange coldness permeated hima wall of some kind.

Over the past sixteen years, she had thought about him often. The light scent of lavender wafted from the bathroom. She closed her eyes and inhaled the relaxing fragrance. This time there were no horror images flashing from her memory, but there were a few memories of her and William kissing in the rain near the Eiffel Tower.

His soft sensual lips made him an exceptional kisser. She had always loved how his fingertips made circles around the small of her back while their tongues mated in an ancient dance.

“The water is ready,” William announced.
Her eye lids popped open as he returned to the room. She couldn’t suppress the heat of embarrassment as it crept up her face.
He frowned. “What is it?”

“Nothing.” Logically, she knew he couldn’t see the visions playing in her head, though she couldn’t help but feel as though he had.

His brows furrowed above his disbelieving expression. “Are you sure?”
“Positive.” Josie drew a deep breath and pushed back the covers.
“Careful now.” He rushed to the bedside to aid her as she stood.

“That’s all right.” The moment she was on her feet, she experienced a strong case of vertigo. “I think I...” She collapsed against him.

“I’ve got you.” William’s arms closed around her. “Walking is a little trickier than it seems,” he joked.
“You’re telling me.” She laughed, feeling foolish.
He helped her to the fragrant bathroom, where a tub of cloud like bubbles awaited her.
Josie was suddenly hit with a dilemma. How was she going to get into the tub?
“Here. Lean against the wall for me,” William instructed.
She obeyed, but then panicked when his hands reached for the hem of her nightgown. “Wait!”
“What is it?” He sprang away from the gown as if the material had transformed into fire.
Her chest heaved as though she’d just completed a marathon. “You were about to undress me.”

His face scrunched into confusion before a flicker of understanding dawned in his eyes. A soft rumble of laughter bounced off the acoustic tiles. “There’s no need to be modest. I’ve already...” At her face’s darkening color, William abandoned the direction he was headed and cleared his throat.

“As a doctor, I can assure you that I can be completely professional about this.”
She shook her head. How could she stand naked before William and view him simply as a doctor? The notion seemed impossible.
“Or I can try not to look,” he offered.

Josie perked at the idea, but then frowned at the thought of his
seeing
her with his hands instead. “Maybe I should do this another time.”

He looked wounded. “You don’t trust me?”
“It’s not a matter of trust.”
His frown deepened. “No? Then what is it?”
She scrambled for an explanation but drew a blank.

Other books

Toxic by Rachael Orman
A MASS FOR THE DEAD by McDuffie, Susan
When Love Hurts by Shaquanda Dalton
The Meaning of Ichiro by Robert Whiting
Deadline Y2K by Mark Joseph
The War With The Mein by Durham, David Anthony