Mirror Me

by Stephanie Tyler

  She packed quickly. It was a benefit of living out of suitcases all these years—she had it down to an art form. The cameras went into a separate bag, and she hesitated, holding the picture of Teige.

  To take it would be torture. It would also clue Mara in that she had someone she cared about.

  In the end, she slit the lining of her suitcase and slid the picture inside. She zipped it up tight, packed the camera, left the keys behind. Hanny watched her the entire time, head tilted, and Kayla avoided looking the dog in the eyes, because Hanny knew. Whimpered when Kayla put the leash on her and got her into the front seat, then dragged her suitcases and a few other boxes into the backseat.

  The rest, she’d leave behind. Nothing was that important…except Teige. And she couldn’t have him. She locked the keys inside the house, gave a head tilt in Old Man Kennen’s direction and then closed the door behind her.

  Then she drove to Penny’s house, instead of Roy’s. Because Roy would alert Teige and that wouldn’t give her enough time.

  Penny answered the door, her hair wet from the shower. “Everything okay, hon?”

  “Will you watch Hanny for me? I’ll let Teige’s friend know where to find her—it’s just that he’s not home now and I can’t wait.”

  “Sure, as long as someone grabs her tomorrow. I got a callback for a commercial from the new headshots—I leave for New York tomorrow afternoon.” Penny took the leash and Hanny went easily enough, but not without a backward glare at Kayla. Penny dug her fingers into Hanny’s thick fur behind her ears. “Hey, pretty girl. You’re going to keep me company tonight?”

  “That’s awesome about the callback. You sure it’s okay with Hanny tonight?”

  Penny glanced up at her. “Of course. Everything okay?”

  “Speaking of jobs, I got a last minute one—assisting a photographer for a wedding in Delaware, so I’ll be gone for a couple of days,” she lied.

  “That’s great! I guess we’re bringing each other luck.”

  Kayla’s stomach lurched. “Listen, I’ll call Roy and leave him a message, but I’m sure he’ll be able to grab Hanny for you in the morning.”

  The good thing was that Penny knew Kayla couldn’t just get in touch with Teige at the drop of a hat.

  Now, Hanny whined for her, like she knew it was part lie. It didn’t matter—Penny wouldn’t let anything happen to Hanny, and she knew Roy. It would all get straightened out.

  Penny offered, “Let me give him a call. If he can’t, then I’ll leave him with John. I won’t be in the city long.”

  “You know, that would be great. I really need to get on the road.” She bent down to hug Hanny, whispered, “Be good, okay? Take care of him for me.”

  She stood, her knee cracking the way it always had since she’d fallen over a stone wall as a teen, running from the police. It cracked the same way that night when Hoss died.

  She was down the walk and in the truck before either the memory or Penny could stop her. She turned the radio up as loud as she could stand it, opened the windows for the rush of air.

  Bruce Springsteen serenaded her about being blinded by the light and Creedence with “Heard It Through The Grapevine.” She tried to lose herself in the music so she didn’t have to think.

  When she did, she fought tears. Reminded herself that she was doing the right thing, because the wrong one would’ve been staying put and keeping Teige, Penny, Mrs. Mueller and the rest of the town in danger. She’d move to the middle of nowhere, to a big, impersonal city where no one noticed her.

  Where she wouldn’t make friends who’d remind her that she wanted a life.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Teige knew something was wrong when he pulled into his driveway and saw that Kayla’s house was completely dark. It was nearly eleven at night and there was no fucking way she’d be sleeping in the dark.

  He left his car running and knocked on her door. He gave her five seconds before went around back and broke into the old porch door. There were no signs of a break-in and once inside, no signs of a struggle. Just emptiness and the keys in an envelope for Mrs. Mueller.

  And a note for him. Hanny’s safe with Penny.

  She’d left in a hurry, but she’d been concerned enough to let him know that Hanny was okay.

  What the fuck was going on?

  He didn’t bother calling Penny, instead going right to her house and surprising her.

  “I didn’t think you were in town,” Penny said as Hanny whimpered at his side, looking as lost as Teige suddenly felt. “Kayla tried Roy first but he wasn’t answering.”

  Right. “I had a change of plans—she left a message but I could barely hear it.”

  “She said she got a last-minute job, photographing a wedding in Delaware,” Penny explained. “I could keep Hanny tonight if you need me to.”

  “Thanks, Penny—I’m okay.” He was the furthest fucking thing from it. But he couldn’t tell Penny about the keys, the empty house and no forwarding address. Instead, he loaded Hanny into the car, went home and got right on the computer.

  He rarely called in favors, but this time, he did so immediately. He logged into the database that his friend, Conroy, sent him the link for and found that Kayla’d only existed for about three months. Before that, nothing. Which meant she’d either made up her own identity and was some kind of grifter…or WITSEC had made it up for her. The latter made far more sense than the former.

  What it didn’t explain was why she’d hightailed it out of there. Something else must’ve happened to spook her.

  His fingers went to the phone and he scrolled to Abby’s name. But before he called her, he reached into his bag and pulled out Kayla’s picture. He’d stuck it into the book he’d been reading so he didn’t wreck it. Now, he scanned it and used the high-tech facial recognition software. It took several moments to turn her up…but he wasn’t sure it was actually her.

  The hair was different, but otherwise, the faces were identical.

  Mara Cooper. Murderer. Fugitive. On the run.

  Something was very, very wrong. A few keystrokes and the pieces started coming together, just in time for a knock at the door.

  It was Abby, and she looked worried as hell.

  “I was going to call you, sis,” he said, then pointed to the computer.

  She eyed him warily. “What do you know?”

  “More than you told me, which isn’t saying much.”

  “She’s been checking in twice a day,” Abby admitted.

  “Ah fuck, Abs.” He glanced over to the house as if magically expecting the lights to go on. “She’s yours.”

  “I couldn’t—” she started.

  He held up a hand. “Don’t tell me more—no reason to lose your job over something I already know.” He turned the laptop’s screen toward her, Mara’s face on full display. In the background, there was a blurred picture of Kayla. Younger. Lighter hair. They looked exactly the same. “You hoped that somehow I’d get involved.”

  Abby didn’t tell him anything else, just let him scan more of the story on Google. It was all there, laid out in article after sensational article.

  Kayla. Aka Claire Cooper, testifying against her identical twin sister, Mara. Now dubbed a serial killer, she escaped on her first night in the psych hospital.

  It was a pretty damned big secret. A reason to be afraid of the dark… especially in light of the new murders, Abby informed him.

  “I know you probably don’t understand,” she continued.

  “Ah, Christ, Abs, I do. But fuck, why blindside me with things like this? You could’ve—”

  “Told you? Yeah, right.”

  “Did you think—”

  “That you and she would be sleeping together?” She shrugged guiltily. “I’d hoped.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “She’s perfect for you. She would understand.”

  “So I can’t be with someone who’s not being stalked by a killer? Do you realize how fucked that sounds?” he demand
ed. Abby nodded. But what was done was done. “Why’s she running now?”

  “Mara killed again and Kayla knows just before it happens. They’ve got that weird twin thing going on.”

  “So she knows and can’t do a damned thing about it,” Teige muttered, feeling the past weigh down on his shoulder like a brick wall. “Better she not know. But with every death…”

  “She feels responsible,” Abby finished. “I yelled at her the other day. She was feeling sorry for herself.”

  “And yelling helps that?”

  “Don’t give me that—the military thinks yelling’s a cure for everything.”

  “True.”

  “You know that Mom would’ve wanted it this way.”

  “Mom wanted a lot of things, yes?” And she hadn’t gotten any of them until goddamned now. He dragged his hands through his hair, then threaded them behind his neck as he studied his sister.

  Abs had always been beautiful; incongruous in a suit with a structured jacket and pants that all feds and detectives seemed to favor. The white button-down shirt looked crisp and perfect, even after a long day and her hair was blond and worn long and straight down her back.

  She’d been exactly the Black Magic Killer’s type—and he would’ve killed her if he’d had the time. Instead, Abby was the only victim in his history who’d gotten away.

  Their father hadn’t. “What do you expect me to do—chase her?” he demanded.

  “Yes. Why, what do you want to do? Besides take her to bed. Again.”

  “She told you?”

  “No, you just did.”

  He turned away from her and stared at the screen again. He’d always seen patterns in everything. He’d done it with teammates and townspeople because he couldn’t shut it off. Thankfully, he hadn’t run across a serial killer among them. Yet. There were, at any given time, fifty-plus loose in the world.

  If he and Abby had gone into profiling, they’d be opening themselves up to become targets because of who their dad was. Their deaths would be trophies to the right copycat killer looking for the notoriety they would bring.

  That’s how his father had begun to think of the victims—trophies, not people. Probably thought that would make the job easier on him.

  It hadn’t. And Teige wasn’t sure it ever fooled the man anyway.

  “I have a DVD,” Abby admitted now. She pulled it out of her pocket and handed it to Teige. He took it, flipped it between his fingers for a few moments. He knew that once he looked, there was no turning back.

  Hell, there’d been no turning back from the moment he’d touched her in the rain. He put the disk into his computer and Abby moved closer, like she was trying to protect him.

  The DVD opened with a shot of Mara. Her eyes, they looked dead. But with a practiced smile and a raise of her brows, she looked too much like Kayla for him to deal with. He shut it off and looked up at Abby.

  She looked shaken. “It’s freaky.”

  “Abs, listen.”

  “I’m involved. There’s a reason. Always a reason.” She paused and then admitted, “Her last handler was killed by Mara.”

  “Hoss? Motherfucker.”

  “Teige, look…”

  “Don’t.” He held up a hand, hating the expression on her face. He didn’t know if he was angrier at the fact she’d place a vic like this next to him or because she let herself get involved in a case like this.

  Before the Academy, Abby had undergone rigorous psych evals. Because even though she was one of the strongest women he knew, and the testing showed that, there was no way to accurately predict how she would ever handle stress that was similar to her own.

  Teige guessed he knew now.

  “You always knew you’d get pulled in.”

  “That’s your wide-eyed fantasy, Abby, not mine. I don’t need to chase monsters to feel complete.”

  Even though his sister recoiled at his words, she didn’t break down. She never had, except for that one terrible night when she’d been too terrified to do anything but shake. No one blamed her, but since she blamed herself, that was all that mattered.

  “How the hell could you do this to me?” he demanded.

  “I didn’t do it for the reasons you think.”

  “What, then?”

  “She seemed…right for you. She could handle you.”

  “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.” He wanted to explode. Smash the computer. Do something…anything. Instead, he asked, “Is this your catharsis?”

  “Maybe. God knows it scares me to death. Evil’s knocking…and I’m going to open the door.” She smiled wanly as she repeated their father’s words. She looked ten to him, still in pigtails, holding the plastic whiffle ball bat in one hand.

  “Chip off the old block, Abs,” Dad used to say, and he was right—she was. But she didn’t want that kind of life. Couldn’t.

  Some people were fueled by past injustices. Abby wasn’t an exception, but she was smarter, because she refused to meet the devil head-on, because she knew what she could handle.

  Until now.

  “Why her?” Teige demanded.

  “I can’t explain it any more than you,” she offered, and maybe that’s what bothered him the most.

  He stared at the picture Google pulled up. Kayla. Hair was shorter now and darker. Eyes were the same. The glasses she wore in an attempt to disguise them didn’t do shit.

  “She gets death threats,” Abby added. “I don’t forward them to her but they come in pretty frequently. A lot of people think she’s guilty.”

  “And her sister’s not?”

  “Some say they did it together, that Mara couldn’t have escaped without Kayla’s help. They dressed alike during the trial on purpose, to confuse everyone. Turned the guards all around. Do you think…” Abby trailed off as she played with the coffee mug.

  “Do you?”

  She stared down at the folder. “Kayla lives with everyone being suspicious of her.”

  “With good reason?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Tell me why.”

  “Because she feels.”

  Teige turned to the window that faced Kayla’s house. “She does.”

  “So we agree that she’s not Mara’s partner in crime.”

  “Agreed.” He turned to her. “Where do we go from here?”

  “Find her, thanks to the GPS I put on her truck when she first came to town. Then keep her safe.”

  Teige didn’t nod…and after a moment’s hesitation simply said, “Maybe we should end her nightmare instead.”

  “I’d love to,” Abby told her brother quietly. “But that’s not my department.”

  “Right. Not mine either, but yet somehow…” He trailed off. “Tell me about Hoss.”

  Hoss. He hadn’t told her what kind of case he’d caught, just that he was being relocated with the witness. He seemed content. Happy, even, although she rarely saw him like that for long.

  He was often a grumpy old teddy bear, which anyone who spent more than a minute with him knew.

  “Were she and Hoss?” Teige asked now, the way Jacoby had weeks earlier.

  She thought back to her then reaction, and to her then answer. “I don’t know anything I thought I did.”

  “Ah, Abs, yes you do,” Teige said seriously.

  “I messed this up.”

  “No, actually you didn’t. Your instincts were right on target.”

  “Putting her with you saved her life.”

  “Putting her next to me made me feel again, so you saved mine,” he said bluntly and her eyes filled with tears briefly before she hastily brushed them away.

  “Great,” she said, all business again. “Now let’s go save her for good.”

  “I wish it were that goddamned easy, Abs.”

  “Me too,” she whispered as she walked out of Teige’s house.

  Chapter Twenty

  The night’s drive was the longest and loneliest she’d ever done, and she’d
done plenty. Music blared to keep her head from going to the bad place, her phone turned off so she wouldn’t have to see Abby and Teige’s numbers pop up over and over. Or so she wouldn’t have to see Teige’s number not pop up.

  People ran from WITSEC all the time. She wouldn’t be the first. Maybe she should’ve done this from the start. Running from Mara had gotten her nowhere.

  And where do you think confronting her’s going to get you?

  She shivered as the familiar chill went up her spine. “Fuck, Mara, don’t. You can have me. Just let whoever you’ve got go.”

  If only it were that simple.

  And maybe it was. Maybe once she settled into a motel and concentrated, she could call Mara to her. Otherwise, there was no other way—it wasn’t like she had Mara’s phone number.

  Finally, when dawn broke on the horizon, Kayla pulled over somewhere in Georgia. The motel she found was the same as any she’d seen. Depressing. Semi-clean. She stripped the comforter off, put her own sheet down and then wrapped herself in her own blanket like a burrito. She’d catch the necessary sleep and be back on the road as soon as the dark threatened.

  She charged her phone without turning it on. She missed Teige, not just because he was a warm body in bed with her. Not just because he’d try to protect her, or because he was strong.

  He made her feel strong, and that was the key to everything.

  She had to will herself not to cry. Tears solved nothing and they made her feel weak and unsure. She’d had enough of that to last a lifetime.

  She stared at her camera on the night table, thought about what Abby told her, harsh words for a harsh truth that Kayla had needed to hear.

  You can have as empty or as full of a life as you want. What exactly did you give up when you entered WITSEC? Hanging around, screwing, drinking, drugging? Whining about how you don’t know what you want to be when you grow up? Yeah, I really feel bad for you that you had to give up all of that. I really do.

  She wondered if she could truly have a full life the way things stood. She could still take pictures, hide behind her new name and newly dyed hair. At the moment, photography was the only thing that held her interest for any length of time (except, of course, for Teige, she reminded herself wryly, then told herself to shut up), but to be honest, as Abby knew, Kayla hadn’t done much of anything.