Fade to Black

by Molly Kate Gray

  She stepped out of the car, trying to be quiet, but failed miserably as her car door closing was as loud as gunfire, disturbing the peaceful morning. The house was still — not even a welcome bark from Otis. She peeled her sleeve back and looked down at her watch. Not quite 8 A.M. Maybe she should come back later.

  Aaaarrrrooooohhhh! Otis. Right on cue.

  The front door opened a crack, and Zach stepped out onto the porch, coffee mug in hand. The hint of stubble across his chin gave him a rugged appearance that blended right in with the rustic cabin. Wearing low-slung jeans with a black Henley pullover exposing his muscles for all to see, he could have been modeling. Instead, he looked at her with confusion. “When I got out of the shower, you were gone.”

  “I know.” She shoved her hands into her pockets to hide how badly they were shaking.

  “Is everything okay?”

  Rory stepped onto the porch and pursed her lips. “We … ” She shifted her weight from one leg to another. “Can I come in? We need to talk.”

  “Sure.” Still blinking at her in surprise, he took a step back and allowed her to walk into the foyer. “Can I get you a cup of coffee?”

  “Sure. I’d love some.” What they served her at the hospital didn’t count as coffee.

  “I don’t have any of the blue stuff. You’re going to have to settle for sugar.”

  “That’s fine.” He remembered what she liked in her coffee. She walked to the dining room table, curious to examine the piles of papers arrayed across the entire expanse of the table.

  Notes. Crime scene photos. Transcripts of interviews. Pictures of victims.

  Quinn smiled at her from the top of the stack. Her fingers still trembling, Rory reached out and picked Quinn’s photo up. She remembered this one. It was the last day the girls spent together. Rory had a rare weekend off from her touring show, and she’d come down to visit, hoping to find that her sister was settled on campus. When she snapped the picture of Quinn leaning against the oak tree in the yard of their old house, she never guessed it would be the last time she would have seen her sister’s face. Christian must have given the department the picture.

  “I didn’t expect you to be working.” Rory took the mug from Zach’s outstretched hand.

  “I have a few days off. Thought I’d put them to good use. I wanted to see if there was anything we’d missed.”

  “This is hardly taking it easy.” She was stalling, and she knew it. But, closer up, she could see that his skin was paler than she was accustomed to. His eyes were bloodshot. Had he slept at all?

  “Why are you here?” Zach was giving her a look she imagined would make even the most hardened suspect confess. His detective senses must be tingling.

  Standing this close to Zach, she knew she was definitely feeling … something. She shook her head. This was definitely not the time to begin thinking about what those full lips felt like against hers or to the warmth of his hand as it skimmed across the small of her back. She cleared her throat and pretended like Christian was in the room. After all, her brother was the reason she was here. “I went to see Christian this morning.”

  “You shouldn’t have done that. How’d you even get in?” Zach put his coffee mug down on the tabletop.

  Rory tossed Quinn’s picture back down on the top of the pile. She straightened her back and looked him straight in the eyes. “That’s what we need to talk about.”

  • • •

  Zach stared at the photograph and then back up at Rory. She didn’t blink under his scrutiny. “Members of the Peytonville department can get into Christian’s room.” Rory paused.

  And Zach shook his head. “No one knows you’re working with the department.”

  “Family members can get in too.” She chewed her lip and shifted her stance to the side. She pulled her hair onto her shoulder, exactly copying the girl in the photograph. “Quinn was Christian’s half-sister.”

  “I know that.” He took a closer look at the young woman he’d been working with for almost two months and then stared at the photograph in shock. The green eyes were the same. Quinn’s held a mischievous twinkle while Rory’s were those of someone who’d seen far too much in her relatively short lifetime. Freckles danced across the bridge of both their noses. They even had the identical dimple in the corner of their lip. Rory’s was hidden now, but he’d seen it before — when she was silently teasing Christian.

  “Christian’s my half-brother too.” She nodded to herself as the understanding slowly dawned on Zach. She tapped the photograph lightly with a well-manicured nail. “Quinn was my sister.”

  “You’re her twin, but … ”

  Rory gave him a half-smile. She wrapped a tendril of strawberry-blonde hair around her index finger. “A little hair color is a wonderful thing.”

  “But why?”

  Rory gave a purposeful look in the direction of the living room. “We might want to sit down. It’s a long story.”

  Zach winced as he lowered himself into the couch. After the events of last night, every inch of him was sore. Well, not every inch. A few very important inches were definitely not sore, but they weren’t exactly helping him focus either. Rory was still wearing the loose hoodie she’d had on last night. As she leaned over to place her coffee on the side table, he strongly suspected that she wasn’t wearing much of anything beneath it. He shifted in the seat, trying to relieve some of the pressure between his legs. “So?” By the look on Rory’s face, she was reluctant to tell him something.

  “Do you want the short version or the long version?” She sat on the edge of the chair, obviously nervous about the story that was about to unfold.

  “Whichever one makes more sense.”

  Rory looked at the ceiling as she nodded in agreement. She cocked an eyebrow at him as she settled back in the chair and drew one leg up to her chest. Wrapping her arms around her shin, she rested her chin on her knee. “Remember, you asked for it.” Her speech changed. Her vowels were longer, and her words took on an unmistakably Southern drawl.

  “I’m not who you think I am.”

  “Obviously.”

  “I’m Kennedy O’Donovan. Quinn was my twin sister. Christian’s my older brother.”

  “I think we’ve already gone over that.”

  Rory rolled her eyes. “You said to start with what makes the most sense.”

  “I’m sorry. I did.” He couldn’t hide the teasing quality to his voice. Who the hell was she? Even now, her words sounded different, and her mannerisms had changed. She was obviously much younger than he’d ever realized. He’d thought she was an officer who was lucky enough to look young. But now, as she sat curled in the chair in yoga pants and a hoodie, he realized she actually was young. Quinn died when she was 19. That meant that Rory couldn’t have been older than 22.

  “Christian’s actually my half-brother. When Dad turned 40, he decided his wife of almost 20 years was a little dated. Thought he’d trade her in for a newer model. Quinn and I are souvenirs of his midlife crisis.”

  “That’s an interesting way to describe your parents.”

  Rory shrugged her shoulders. “Mom married him because he had big dreams. He was going to be president someday. As it was, he ended up with a very comfortable job as the U.S. Ambassador in Pakistan by the time Quinn and I were eight. Mom liked it here, but she loved being an ambassador’s wife. Fit the former sorority president’s need to see and be seen absolutely perfectly. Entertaining almost every night. Hanging out with diplomats and the wealthy. Only problem was, she had a little troublemaker who kept getting kicked out of school.”

  “Quinn.” Zach filled in that part of the story for her. He’d heard more than enough stories about Christian’s trouble-riddled younger sister.

  Rory laughed. “Me.” She ran her fingers through her hair and closed her eyes. “I was hell
in the classroom. I knew everything, and I made sure the teachers were aware of it. I was a definite pain in the ass, and I kept getting kicked out of my class. Quinn was a good kid. Always did what the teachers told her to. They kept asking why I couldn’t be more like her.” She laughed self-consciously. “Took four schools before they shipped us off to an all-girls boarding school in London. Thought the boys might be the issue. Turns out, I was still annoying there.” Rory leaned her head back on the chair cushion. “Headmaster there finally had me tested.” She looked back up at him. “The problem was, I was a genius. Literally. Blew the Otis Lennon test out of the water. Mensa was drooling at my scores.”

  She paused and patted her leg to give Otis permission to hop onto her lap. “I didn’t actually call you. I just said your name.” Once the dog was settled, she continued her story. “It took a while, but Mom and Dad finally found a school that would take me, but Quinn couldn’t come. Scheffield Preparatory Academy felt it was a plus to have me at their school. Great selling point to have a child genius. They let me work at my own pace, and I graduated before I turned 15.”

  “It was great for me, but Quinn and I had never been separated.” Rory’s voice became softer and she chewed her lip. “They didn’t tell me that she hadn’t adjusted to being alone. She got kicked out of the school in London and sent back home. About the same time I graduated, Quinn was arrested for the first time. Since she was the ambassador’s daughter, she had immunity. Once she found that out … it was like she had a free pass to do whatever she wanted. Which, when your parents are preoccupied by showing everyone they know just how important they are, can be a really bad thing.”

  She reached for her coffee mug and took a drink as Zach continued to watch her, not quite sure of what to make of the change between the Rory who walked through the door less than a half-hour earlier and the one who sat on the recliner with his dog in her lap. “So, I was fifteen years old and a high school graduate. First thing I did was apply to colleges back in the states. NYU was more than happy to accept me, and once I was in their theater program, I’d found my purpose in life. Which, since my parents thought being a genius meant that I’d discover the cure for cancer or something else that would make our family famous — and give him another reason to make a run at the White House — annoyed my parents to no end.” Rory drummed her fingertips on her coffee mug. “Score another one for me.”

  “I wasn’t really on my own, though. For some reason, the head of my parents’ security detail decided that very year to take early retirement. Her daughter’s family lived in New York, and it was so convenient. She needed a roommate.”

  “Can you really blame them? You were fifteen.”

  “You’re probably right, but still. I’d never had a normal life. Moving to Pakistan when I was ten. Going to a boarding school when I was eleven. It was hard enough to fit in at college, but living with a 60 year old roommate — made sure I wasn’t exactly high on the social totem pole.”

  “I’m sure all the guys loved coming over to pick you up.”

  “That would mean there was a guy involved.” Rory’s voice was soft as she averted her eyes. “I’ve never been on a real date.”

  “Not while you were in school … ”

  Rory gave a dismissive sigh. “Never — as in … never.” Her cheeks flushed pink as if she’d revealed more than she’d wanted him to know. “Would you date a fifteen year old? It’s not even legal.” She waited for the weight of her words to sink in. “I went through college just as quickly as every other school. I’d graduated by the time I turned eighteen. On my last day of class, I saw an audition notice on the bulletin board outside the black box. They were casting for the tour of Summer of Love. Edgy show. Not everyone’s cup of tea, but they needed a very innocent leading lady.” Rory nodded. “That would be me.”

  Zach sat back in his seat and held up a hand. “But you’re a cop.”

  Rory shook her head. “I’m an undercover agent.”

  “So how did you end up here?”

  She pointed in the direction of the table. “Quinn. When she died, I came home for the funeral. Lots of VIPs. After all, an ambassador’s daughter had died. Even though my parents had been killed earlier in the year, Quinn’s funeral still drew a list of who’s who in politics.”

  “I remember. I was part of the security detail.”

  “The college campus already had been dealing with a drug problem. Now they had a dead student to go along with it. The head of Texas’ new drug task force came to the funeral to show her support. I guess someone told Anita about me. She took one look at me, and my career as an undercover officer was born. Who better to go into high schools than an actual nineteen year old? And the fact I held a master’s degree in theater … that was the icing on the cake. I dropped out of the tour, and suddenly I was a police officer. Or, I was after a three months of training.”

  Zach was stunned. “Why did you do it?”

  “Quinn was my sister. When Mom and Dad died, she wanted to come on tour with me. I wouldn’t let her. I sent her here with Christian. I’m the reason she’s dead.”

  Zach shook his head at the irony of the situation. It had taken Christian months of therapy to stop taking responsibility for his little sister’s death. Now, here was Rory, two years later — feeling the same sense of guilt. Yes, his partners really were siblings.

  “Are you still with me?” She raised an eyebrow at him. She must have asked him a question he’d missed.

  “Yeah.” He was most definitely still with her. The more she talked, the more he realized the Rory he’d initially been introduced to was an act. Short skirts. Lots of leather. Blouses that left almost nothing to the imagination. The person sitting in front of him was the real Rory. She’d never even been on a date, for Christ’s sake.

  Shit! No wonder she’d reacted so violently when he’d implied she was sleeping around to get information she wanted. He doubted if she’d ever even …

  He shot to his feet. He couldn’t think about sex right now, even though thoughts of the clothes Rory wore when she was in character made it very difficult for him to think of anything else.

  “Are you okay?” Her eyes widened with surprise as he spun around so that she couldn’t see the source of his problem. God, he was like a high schooler again. He had to get in control.

  “Just need some ice.” He didn’t have to work hard to feign pain in his side. He’d gotten to his feet too quickly and now the pain from his gunshot wound was almost overwhelming. Feel the pain. Concentrate on it, or he was going to have to disappear into the bathroom to relieve himself of his other real source of discomfort.

  “Do you need me to get it?”

  He shook his head and rushed into the kitchen. He ducked inside his walk-in pantry and gave himself a chance to adjust his jeans. Better. Taking the box of sandwich bags in hand, he pulled out one before he walked to the freezer and grabbed a handful of ice. Zipping the bag closed, he placed it on his side and sighed in partial relief. He glanced at the clock and realized he was almost an hour overdue for his next dose of painkillers. That would explain the pulsing in his side. He popped a pill in his mouth and washed it down with water from the sink.

  “Maybe I should go.” Rory made an attempt to stand, but Otis had her firmly locked in place.

  “No.” Zach walked back into the living room and reclaimed his place on the couch. “This is better.” He settled into the couch and was amused by the concerned expression on her face. Despite being the same person, she looked almost nothing like the Rory he’d come to know. That version of Rory was an act. Every mannerism, including the way she walked and the way she phrased her sentences, was different.

  Rory was an amazing actress.

  Every so often, like the night she’d come over when he wanted to apologize, a little of the real Rory shone through. He wasn’t ashamed to admit that he was han
ging on her every word. Or at least he was trying to. Unfortunately, the little smear of coffee at the corner of her lip kept distracting him. His eyes focused on the tiny brown speck, and he kept imagining what it would feel like to help her lick it off. “Really, I’m still listening.”

  She giggled and bobbed her head in amusement. “Sure you are. I’ve been in more high schools and colleges than even I can remember. Most of the cases are short. I spend a couple of weeks on campus, and I find the dealer. This case is different.” She drained the last of her coffee and placed the mug back on the table. “In case you were wondering, Christian didn’t know I was coming. I didn’t have a chance to tell him. One minute I was testifying on a grand jury in Seattle — I was on loan there — and the next, Anita was standing in the doorway waiting to tell me another kid had died here.” She waved her hands to her side. “What was I supposed to do? I packed my bag, and I was here by the next day. Christian is less than thrilled to have me on the case.”

  Zach adjusted the ice pack on his side. The painkillers were kicking in, and everything was beginning to feel comfortably fuzzy. Still, something in Rory’s story wasn’t adding up. “Christian didn’t want you here?”

  “No.”

  “And you’re undercover at the station.”

  “Yes.”

  Rory was suddenly acting as if she were a suspect he’d brought in for questioning. Her mood had changed, and she seemed edgy. She wasn’t telling him the whole story. He was damn sure of that. “Why?”

  Rory sat silently — not answering. She was obviously studying him. She chewed the inside of her lip as she fidgeted with her shoelace. “No one’s supposed to know this.” She licked the corner of her lip and the smear of coffee disappeared. “The last four kids who died. They had more in common than just what school they went to.”