“Don’t tell me you’re losing your touch,” Tyrese snickered.
And then she saw it. A silver sticker that read, ‘Keystone M.D.’
“Bingo.” He patted her on the back. “Sorry, I’m all out of door prizes though.”
Ming started toward the ambulance. “Who is it?”
“Ambrose Turner, according to the driver’s license. Police detective Cathy Lansing called out department when she saw the sticker. Said that she remembered seeing something on the news about our investigation at Keystone.”
Ming nodded. “So is this our baby?”
“Not officially, but it probably will be before the day is out.”
“Two Keystone doctors,” she whispered to herself. “What the hell is going on here?”
“I don’t know. Maybe we’re off the mark thinking the Keystone murder is tied in to the Thornton case,” Tyrese said.
“And Conan’s twin theory.”
He chuckled. “Even farther off the mark.”
She folded her arms as she watched a team arrive to recover the sinking Mercedes. “Maybe it was just an accident.”
“The bullet in the back of his head says otherwise.”
Exasperated, Ming turned on him. “None of this crap makes any sense.”
He held up his cup. “No yelling. I’m still waiting for the caffeine to kick in.”
Ming shook her head and stormed past her partner. “We’re going to start over.”
“Meaning?” Tyrese’s long stride struggled to keep up with hers.
“I want another interview with everyone we walked to in the Thornton case. All this is related somehow. I just know it.”
“We’re supposed to be looking for Michelle Andrews, remember?”
“We are.” She continued to their car. “As a matter of fact, I think it’s time we paid a visit to the Ferrell Estate.”
“I’m sorry, Ms. Ferrell, but your passport has expired,” Rhonda, according to her Delta nametag said politely.
“What do you mean?” Michelle pressed down on the rim of her sunglasses to glare at the smiling woman.
“It says so right here.” Rhonda pointed to the line in the little blue book. “It expired six months ago.”
“Michelle’s eyes followed the woman’s finger, and her heart sank at the printed expiration date. “Well, can’t you just renew it?” she asked irritably. “My flight leaves in thirty minutes.”
Rhonda’s smile lost a little of its luster. “We don’t renew passport, Ms. Ferrell. We’re not a government agency. We do have a concierge service that might be of assistance to you. You may not be able to get your passport today, but with the proper paperwork, they could probably express a renewal within five to seven days.”
“Five to seven days,” Michelle thundered. “I don’t have five to seven days. I have a plane to catch in thirty minutes.”
“I’m sorry, ma’am. But there’s nothing else that I can do. Your passport has expired.” Rhonda handed the small book to her.
“Angry, Michelle snatched the passport. “Thanks for nothing,” she seethed, and crammed everything back into her purse. She leaned down, grabbed her carry-on bag, and stormed out of line.
“What now?” she asked herself.
Minutes later, while she was scrounging around for the airport’s concierge, she realized that her luggage had boarded the plane. “I don’t believe this.” She stomped her foot and stifled a scream.
When she finally found the concierge and gave him a blast of her temper, she received the same information Rhonda had imparted.
“What exactly is considered the proper identification?” Michelle asked.
“You just need to bring a certified birth certificate and a current, valid driver’s license,” a smiling Ned said.
Michelle’s heart sank to her knees. “I have a valid driver’s license.” She reached into her purse for the stolen license she’d lifted from Josephine.
“You’ll still need a birth certificate,” he insisted. “You are a US citizen, aren’t you?”
“Yes, but…”
“Then you’ll need a birth certificate to leave the county.”
Michelle clenched her jaw and fought the urge to snatch the short man from over the counter.
Once again, she turned in a huff and stormed off. An hour later, she was back at the Ferrell Estate. However, she was surprised when her taxi rolled up next to a Buick Regal.
“That will be fifty-eight twenty-five,” the cab driver informed her.
Michelle reached for her purse but her attention was drawn to the two figured at her doorstep.
“Fifty-eight twenty-five,” the irate man said again.
“Just a second, Mohammed,” she snapped.
“It’s Rasheed.”
“Whatever.” She paid her tab and opened her door. When she stood, she finally recognized the tall Asian woman waiting for her.
Trouble.
Michelle drew a deep breath and raised her chin. She slid both her purse and her carry-on bag over her shoulder and closed her cab door.
Delaney smiled as she folded her arms across her chest. “Been on a trip?”
“I don’t see how that’s any business of yours.” Michelle joined the two blue suits and slid her key into the lock. “It’s not my birthday, so to what do I owe this pleasure?”
“Humph. I would’ve thought you’d asked whether we’ve found your sister,” Delaney said.
Michelle opened her door. “You don’t look like the bearer of good news.” She stepped inside and left the door open so her uninvited guess could follow her.
“Wow.” Delaney said. “Nice place you have here.”
“Thanks,” Michelle droned in a bored voice. She set her bags on the foyer’s table.
“And empty,” Delaney added. “I always figured a place like this would be crawling with servants.”
“I’m in the middle of hiring a new staff,” Michelle lied. “Does your shadow speak, or is he just arm candy?”
Delaney gave her a thin, wry smile. “I forgot you two haven’t been introduced. This is my partner, Detective Tyrese Simmons. Simmons, Ms. Andrews.”
Michelle’s stomach muscles tensed. “It’s Ferrell,” she corrected.
Delaney’s smile disappeared. “My mistake.”
A strained silence lapsed among the three parties, distinctively giving Michelle the sense that she was in the middle of a life-sized chess game.
“I’m still waiting to hear what brings you here,” Michelle said.
“We wanted to ask you a few questions regarding you and…Michelle,” Simmons answered. “Specially, how you two met.”
“And what’s the relevancy of that?”
“Well, it’s a big hole in the puzzle. Given the differences in your upbringing, we’re just curious.”
Michelle weighed whether she should answer the question, then decided that it was a harmless inquiry. “We met at my father’s funeral.”
“What, she just showed up?”
Michelle shrugged. “Yes. So?”
“She just crashed a funeral?” Simmons asked.
“Something like that.”
“That didn’t strike you as odd?” Delaney challenged.
Michelle didn’t answer. She was almost certain that Abbott and Costello here were leading her toward a trapdoor. “As much as I’m enjoying this little chitchat, I have other things to attend, and I believe that you two have a missing person to find.”
“Actually Delaney finally closed the front door. “We were a little concerned about your welfare.
Michelle’s brows dipped together. “Come again?”
“Well, it’s pretty clear to me that…Michelle had some help leaving Keystone. According to the staff, she was pretty much out of it through most of her stay. Now whether she was kidnapped or she convinced someone to help her is what remains to be seen. If the latter is the case, then there’s no real crime that’s been committed unless she and her partner murdered Dr. Bancrof
t.”
“Get to the point,” Michelle snapped.
“See, you’re probably not aware of your sister’s extensive criminal record, and I’m thinking that someone as unstable as Michelle can’t be too happy that her twin sister was adopted by such a wealthy family while she wasn’t quite so lucky.” Delaney paused for dramatic effect.
Michelle shifted her weight. “I’m still waiting.”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Simmons said.
“Apparently not,” she said tightly.
Delaney walked across the foyer and stopped within inches of Michelle. “Andrews never does something for nothing. She approached you for a reason.” Delaney too her time and glanced around the large home before she continued. “I’m guessing that she wants her piece of the money pie.”
The silence returned while the women’s gazes battled.
Finally, Michelle stepped away and mulled this latest development over but decided it was best to toss their theory back in their faces. “I don’t believe you.”
“That’s your choice.”
Michelle grew bolder. “I think that you two are grasping at straws again, and you’re wasting my time. So I would like for you to leave. Comprende?”
Delaney and Simmons glanced at each other.
Michelle glided over to the front door and opened it. “Now.”
Simmons walked out the door with a grave expression while Delaney smiled.
Michelle glared.
“Make sure that you stay in town. I have a feeling that we’ll be back.” At the door’s threshold, Delaney stopped. “Nous connaissons la vérité et nous allant vous attraper.”
Michelle’s eyes narrowed.
Delaney blinked, gave her a cracked smile, then cleared the threshold. “Au revoir.”
Michelle slammed the door.
Tyrese smiled and shook his head as he walked over to their car. “That went well. What did you say to her?”
“That we knew the truth and we’re going to catch her.” Delaney followed him.
“You’re kidding.”
Delaney opened the passenger door and slid into the seat. “Conan was right.”
Tyrese closed his door and turned to look at her. “Excuse me?”
“She didn’t understand me.” Ming’s jaw set determinedly. “I don’t know how she did it, but that woman in there is not Josephine Ferrell.”
Chapter 19
Josie was beginning to feel like a human being again. With assistance, she was able to blow dry her hair and get dressed in something other than a night gown. William had purchased her some clothes and underwear, so she selected a pair of jeans, an Atlanta Falcons jersey, and a very comfortable pair of Nikes. To her surprise everything fits perfectly.
Drawing a deep breath, she brushed off all thoughts of her embarrassing episode with William that morning.
Besides, she had a hell of a lot of other problems to deal with at that moment.
She needed to get her hands on her address book. The book could help her get in contact with friends, doctors, dentists; whomever she needed to help her with proving her identity.
Tired of her thoughts chasing each other, Josie turned off the light and walked out of the bathroom. She quickly moved over to the phone on one of the nightstand tables. In no time she’d reached France’s information line and requested the number for her longtime physician, Dr. Dumas. However, she was disappointed when she reached the practice’s automated voice mail.
Bonjour. Ceci est Josphone Ferrell. J’appelle pour demander une copier de mes rapport médicaux.” What’s the address?
“Je’rappellerai avec me nouvelle adresse et mon nouveau numéro de telephone.” She hung up and rolled her eyes at her absentmindedness.
She rushed out of the bedroom and was greeted by wonderful aromas of bacon and coffee. Her stomach churned and growled with anticipation.
Within minutes, she joined William in the kitchen. “It smells like heaven in here,” she declared, peeking around him to see what was on the stove.
“Thanks,” he said.
Josie’s sense of smell hadn’t deceived her. There were bacon, sausage, and eggs. On a griddle were perfectly shaped pancakes and in a bowl on the counter were diced cantaloupe and honeydew.
“It looks like you went to an awful lot of trouble.”
“Nah. It was no trouble at all.” William moved from the stovetop to the oven, where he removed golden brown biscuits.
He moved around the kitchen like a seasoned chef. It was an unexpected turn-on, and Josie found herself watching him with great fascination.
“Did I miss something, or are you expecting an army?” she chuckled.
“No. I just figured you’d be hungry. You haven’t had much in the past few days.” He turned his attention to the pancakes.
Josie sensed he was trying his best to avoid eye contact. She stepped back so she could stay out of his way, but she couldn’t help but ask, “Is something wrong?”
A long pause ensued before he answered, “No.”
It was an obvious lie, but the tension between them was too thick for her to call him on it. She changed the subject. “I called my doctor’s office to request my medical records.”
William stopped what he was doing. “You did?”
“Yeah. Well, I reached their voice mail, and I didn’t have an address to tell them where to mail the records.”
“Oh yeah. I can, uh, write that down for you,” he said.
She glanced over and tried to read him, but she was unsuccessful. She didn’t understand his cold demeanor. Especially, since he was so attentive last night, but after their kiss…
Josie shook the direction of her thoughts out of her head. “Can I help with something?”
He glanced around. “No. I have everything under control.” He moved to the refrigerator. “Would you like some orange or grapefruit juice?”
Something was obviously wrong. She rolled her eyes at his lame attempt at avoidance.
“Josie?” He turned to look at her. However, when their eyes met, he quickly dropped his gaze. “Orange or grapefruit?”
“Orange.”
He grabbed the appropriate carton.
“Look, William. About this morning…“
“It’s already forgotten.”
She blinked at his continued coldness.
William took a few platters of food over to the kitchen table and returned. “How many pancakes do you want?” he asked.
Josie crossed her arms. “I don’t know, two or three.” Her stomach growled. “Better make it four.”
His lips finally curled upward. “You got it.”
Quite suddenly, Josie felt light-headed and wavered on her feet.
William rushed to her side. “Josie, are you all right?”
She nodded even though she wasn’t sure.
He helped her to the table so she could sit and catch her breath.
“Look at me,” he instructed, while he lifted the lids of her eyes. “Come on, Josie. Look at me.”
She struggled to do just that. When she met his gaze, it was like looking at the calm blue of the ocean. She loved how they sparkled, how they made her feel at peace.
“You’re doing good,” he encouraged.
Just as suddenly as the spell came on, it was over. However, her heart raced, and her throat was drier than the Sahara.
“I think I’ll have that juice now,” she panted.
“Sure.” William hopped up and went to get it for her.
Meanwhile, Josie calmed down and gathered herself. “Do you know how much longer I’m going to have to put up with this?” she asked, just as he returned.
“Well, it’s different for everyone.”
She accepted the glass and drained nearly the whole thing in one gulp.
“I better get you some more.” He left and returned with the whole carton. “I have you on methadone right now,” he said. “I’ll give you another shot after breakfast.”
She reached for t
he carton.
“I’ll pour it for you,” he said.
“I can do it,” she snapped.
William held up his hands in surrender as she refilled her glass. She immediately felt silly. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not a problem.”
After she’d quenched her thirst, she asked the most prominent question that came to mind. “What is methadone?”
“A narcotic pain reliever.” William grabbed a chair and set it next to her. “It’s generally used for maintenance for drug detox. Your body developed a dependency to the narcotics that were pumped into your system. The pain you’re experiencing is your body’s way of demanding the drugs. Methadone helps you with that pain.”
Narcotics? “What exactly were they giving me at that place?”
“At Keystone you were given pretty high doses of lithium. Your last toxicology reports also showed Tegretol and Depakote, which are used when a person shows resistance to lithium. Before you were admitted to Keystone blood test showed traces of Prozac, heroin, you name it. You were a walking time bomb.”
Deadly Double Page 11
