The Other Twin

by Nan Dixon

  Gray pulled her to his side and kissed her.

  Nathan was going to gag on all the love pheromones flying around.

  Cheryl walked in. Her gaze zeroed in on him. Worry creased her forehead and pain filled her eyes.

  Daniel looked between her and Nathan and headed to the back door. “Where’s the plan?”

  Abby held one up. Gray did, too.

  “Pinned to the wall.” Nathan moved to Cheryl and lowered his voice. “How did it go?”

  “They took copies of the emails and that awful video. They’re going after the person who sent the video first.”

  “Good.”

  Neither of them moved.

  “Thank you for making me go to the police,” she whispered.

  “You’re welcome.” He stepped away, even though he longed to wrap his arms around her. “Are you here for the kitchen?”

  “Abby insisted.” She reached for him but stopped when he held up his hand.

  He couldn’t keep reopening the Cheryl-size hole in his heart. “Let’s make sure Abby’s got everything.”

  Nathan, Gray, Daniel and one of the deliverymen hauled the first box off the truck. Abby and Cheryl cut the cardboard, oohing and aahing over a flattop.

  “You can leave the cardboard in the corner,” Nathan said. “Josh and I will break it down tonight.”

  Cheryl nodded, her lip caught between her teeth.

  He couldn’t do this much longer. With the restaurant close to completion, he would find a permanent home for him and Issy. Then he’d avoid the wrenching pain of seeing Cheryl every day.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  “MRS. HENSHAW.” DETECTIVE GILLESPIE waved her back to an interview room.

  “Please, call me Cheryl.” She took a seat. “You talk to me almost every day.”

  Gillespie had kept her updated over the past week.

  And Nathan had been freezing her out. She shook her head. Pining for a man who couldn’t stand to be in the same room with her was fruitless.

  “Cheryl, then,” Gillespie said.

  “What’s happening?” she asked.

  “We hit a dead end on the IP addresses. They were sent from different coffee shops in Savannah. And, as of this morning, the email account was deleted.”

  “If the email is gone, maybe I don’t need to worry about the video anymore.” Hope leaked into her voice.

  Gillespie shook his head. “The video is out there somewhere.”

  “And Levi?”

  He grimaced. “There’s nothing that ties him to the blackmail demands.”

  “But I sent him money!”

  “A good defense attorney would say that was because you’re his sister-in-law. There’s nothing in the emails that specifically suggests that he’s involved.”

  “No way.” She pushed away from the table and paced. “The video could still go public?”

  Detective Gillespie nodded. “I’m sorry.”

  She stalked back to the table. “I won’t let Levi get away with this.”

  “We don’t have evidence connecting him to the blackmail.”

  “Those pictures are from when Josh and I lived with him. Someone took them when I was sleeping. He’s the only one who could have done it.” She rubbed the goose bumps on her arms. “Talk to him!”

  “I could. But I don’t think it will go anywhere unless we find his accomplice. Since the emails didn’t come from Coastal State prison, someone in Savannah sent them.”

  She wouldn’t become Levi’s victim again. “Then...let me talk to him. He’ll brag about what he’s done. Can you record our conversation?”

  “That might work.” Gillespie eyed her. “You’ve changed.”

  “I’m tired of being weak. No one is going to rescue me again.” Not Josh or the Fitzgeralds or Nathan. “What do I have to do?”

  A look of admiration crossed his face. “I need to talk to my captain and make some calls.”

  “Let me know when I can do this.”

  * * *

  THREE HOURS LATER she sat in the Fitzgerald House kitchen. At her request, the Fitzgerald sisters had gathered around the table with her.

  “Thank you for meeting with me,” Cheryl said.

  Abby touched her hand. “Of course.”

  “Are the kids all right?” Bess asked.

  “Yes. Their spots have scabbed over, so they’re back in day care.”

  “Good. Chicken pox is miserable.” Dolley pulled a sandwich from the tray in the middle of the table. “What’s up?”

  Cheryl took a deep breath. “It’s Levi.”

  Abby jerked in her chair. “Is he out of prison?”

  “No.” She tried to work out how to tell the Fitzgeralds. “He’s blackmailing me.”

  Dolley slapped her hand on the table. “With what?”

  “A video. A porn video.”

  Their mouths dropped open.

  “It’s not me,” she hurried to add. “My face is superimposed on some woman’s body.”

  “Oh, no.” Abby took her hand.

  Cheryl fought back tears at Abby’s kindness. Then she walked the sisters through the emails she’d received.

  “That’s horrible.” Bess rubbed her back. “How can we help?”

  “You’re all so amazing.” Her throat tightened, but she wouldn’t cry. “I wanted you to know because they threatened to send you the video.”

  “Like we would ever believe that of you.” Abby squeezed her hand.

  “Nathan’s the one who spotted a tattoo on the woman’s butt. I didn’t even notice it.”

  Abby glanced at Bess. Bess’s eyebrows shot up and Dolley laughed aloud.

  What had she said? Cheryl replayed her comment about her butt and the tattoo, then blushed.

  “Nice to know Nathan’s observant,” Dolley choked out.

  Abby and Bess started to giggle. Cheryl couldn’t hold in a snort and finally joined them.

  “We should be breaking out the wine,” Abby said as their laughter died down.

  Bess turned back to Cheryl. “You never said how we can help.”

  “There’s nothing to do right now.” She wiped a tear away. How long had it been since she’d laughed this hard? “I plan to confront Levi. Hopefully, he’ll confess.”

  “You go, girl,” Dolley said.

  “You’d visit the prison?” Abby asked.

  Chills crawled down her back. “If I get the okay from the police.”

  And maybe even if she didn’t.

  Abby linked their hands. Bess took her other hand. Dolley finished the circle.

  “We’re here to support you, whatever you need,” Abby declared.

  Cheryl’s chest shook as she exhaled. “Thank you. You’re the best.”

  * * *

  THE NEXT NIGHT CHERYL, Josh and Issy made dinner. Nathan had asked her to watch Issy for the evening, but he hadn’t said where he was going.

  Don’t let him be on a date.

  While keeping her eye on Josh tearing lettuce and Issy mixing biscuit dough, Cheryl tossed chicken in the pan. It sizzled and spit.

  Her phone rang. Gillespie. She rolled her shoulders and answered.

  “We got the okay from my superiors and the prison.”

  “Really?” She pulled out a kitchen chair, needing to sit.

  “When do you want to do this?”

  Never. “Are there visiting hours or something?”

  “We’re cleared to go whenever you’re available.”

  Her stomach flopped. “I’m off Thursday morning.”

  “I’ll pick you up.”

  “Thank you.” She shivered, not wanting to see her brother-in-law again. But she needed to do this for
herself and Josh.

  At least the Fitzgeralds had her back. A pang shot through her. She might have had the same support from Nathan if she hadn’t been such a fool.

  After setting a time to meet, she hung up. “Let’s finish dinner.”

  “Who was on the phone?” Josh asked. His face was solemn.

  She didn’t want Josh to worry. “A friend.”

  “Mr. Nathan?”

  Issy looked up from stirring the dough.

  “No.”

  “Will I meet this friend?” Josh asked, almost spitting out the word.

  She surely hoped not. “I don’t think so.”

  “You don’t have friends,” Josh pressed.

  “I do.” She smiled. “There’s the Fitzgeralds, and Gray and Daniel.”

  “And Mr. Nathan?” Her son tugged on his Forester and Sons cap. It was almost impossible to get him to take the thing off. Her son looked forward to his evening cleanups with Nathan. Amazing.

  She flipped the chicken breasts simmering on the stove. “Of course.”

  “Daddy,” Issy said. The little girl glanced up, her eyes wide, as if she were afraid of the word.

  “Yes, your daddy.” She tried to keep the excitement out of her voice. Each word from Issy was precious.

  Cheryl set the lid on the pan, moved over and stroked Issy’s back. She handed spoons to the kids. “I think we can make these biscuits now.”

  She helped them drop the dough on the baking sheet. They were all giggling by the time they were done.

  “Mine looks like a dinosaur,” Josh said. “Stegosaurus.”

  “Mine looks like Daddy practicing reading,” Issy sang.

  That was the most words Cheryl had ever heard Issy say. Well, sing.

  “Your dad practices reading?” Josh asked.

  “Practice makes perfect,” Issy sang.

  Good for Nathan. Cheryl slid the biscuits into the oven. “Okay, guys, let’s clean up this mess.”

  There was a battle over Josh wearing his cap at the dinner table and one spilled glass of milk. After dinner, she gave Issy a bath and let Josh manage his own. Then Josh read to Issy until they both nodded off.

  Standing next to the bunk beds, Cheryl felt the dull ache in her belly grow. She’d missed having Issy here. Missed Nathan, too. She couldn’t wait to tell him how much his daughter had talked.

  He and Issy were threaded through the fabric of her and Josh’s lives. She’d pulled on the string and everything had unraveled.

  Nathan may think he was stupid, but he was so much smarter than she was.

  * * *

  NATHAN ACHED, LIKE a kickboxer had worked out on his head. The dyslexia support group Daniel had found made his brain hurt.

  That wasn’t all that hurt. He hesitated at Cheryl’s door. His heart ached like that same kickboxer had torn a chunk out of that, too.

  He knew what was missing. Cheryl. And Josh. Now that he and Cheryl weren’t together, he and Josh were getting along. They’d bonded over the kid’s punishment. Nathan even looked forward to cleaning up the work site with him each evening.

  Forcing his hand up, he knocked.

  Soft footsteps and the clack of the locks filled the silence. Cheryl opened the door.

  He frowned at her. “You didn’t ask who was there.”

  “I...” Her mouth dropped open. “I knew it was you.”

  He shook his head, setting off hammers behind his eyes. Big mistake.

  “Lord, you look tuckered out,” she said. “Are you all right?”

  “Long day.” He pushed back his hair, winced and stepped inside.

  Delicious scents filled the room and his mouth watered. He’d missed dinner. “I’ll grab Issy and get out of your hair.”

  “She fell asleep while Josh read.” The lines around her mouth softened. “She can stay the night.”

  His shoulders slumped. “You didn’t have to do that.”

  “I love Issy and love having her here.” She sank against the counter. “She talked a lot tonight.”

  He smiled. His cheeks hurt like they weren’t used to the action. “She did?”

  “Well, sang.”

  “The doc keeps telling her that singing isn’t talking.” He paced the kitchen. “Smells good in here.”

  “We made chicken and biscuits.” She chewed her lip. “Have you eaten?”

  “Didn’t have a chance.” He stared at her pink lips and couldn’t pull his eyes away.

  “Sit.”

  He did. While she got food out of the fridge, he let his head drop into his hands. Exhaustion steamrollered over him.

  The microwave dinged and Cheryl set a plate in front of him.

  “Thanks.” He took a forkful. The taste of the chicken, mushrooms and herbs made him want to weep in gratitude.

  As he shoveled in the deliciousness, Cheryl popped lids on containers, returning them to the fridge. Then she made her evening cup of tea.

  “Are you ready for Daniel and Bess’s wedding?” she asked.

  Nathan had hoped they’d go as a couple. Not now. The food lost its taste. “Gray and I are working on the bachelor party.”

  Awkward silence filled the kitchen.

  “This is great,” he finally said around another mouthful.

  “The kids liked it.” She took a seat across from him.

  “Any chance you can watch Issy the same time next week?”

  “Sure.” She stared into her mug as if the answers to all the world’s problems were etched in the bottom.

  “Maybe for the next month?”

  Cheryl finally looked up. “Are you taking a class or something?”

  “Something like that.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, barely able to think through the jabbing pain. “And maybe Thursday for Daniel’s party.”

  “Of course.”

  He cut another piece of chicken. “Have you heard any more from the cops?”

  “They can’t find the person who sent the emails, so they can’t tie anything to Levi.”

  He swore. “There’s got to be something they can do.”

  “Gillespie’s working on...something.”

  “Let me know if I can help,” he said. But they weren’t together. She hadn’t trusted him. He rolled his neck, joints popping.

  “You’re hurting.” Moving behind him, she dug her fingers into his shoulders.

  He stiffened. “You don’t have to do that.”

  “You’re in pain.” She massaged his tense muscles. “Just eat.”

  Her touch was agony and relief. She manipulated the base of his neck, working her way through his scalp.

  Every few minutes he remembered to chew. He couldn’t hold his head up. It fell back, resting on her stomach. His eyes closed and he floated on the comfort of her touch.

  “This so feels good really.” His words were jumbled and not from his dyslexia.

  She massaged and kneaded, her fingers stroking the hair off his forehead.

  He kept his eyes closed, afraid she’d see his longing.

  She stopped, her hands resting on his shoulders. The sound of their breathing and the ticking of the kitchen clock blanketed them. He left his head resting against her.

  Too soon, she stepped back. He looked up and wished he hadn’t. Her eyes were deep pools of pain.

  “Thank you.” His voice was rough.

  “You’re welcome.” She moved away, taking his empty dish to the sink.

  His chair screeched across the floor. He set a hand on her back as she loaded his plate in the dishwasher. “Really. Thank you for everything.”

  “You’ve done so much for Josh and me.” She turned and they were stuck in a cruel mock embrace.

  He couldn�
��t stop his impulse. He brushed her hair behind her ear. Her breath whooshed out and he dropped his hand. This wasn’t staying away from her.

  “I—I’ll make the kids breakfast,” she stuttered.

  “Thanks.” He backed toward the door. He’d have to go through this same agony in the morning.

  * * *

  CHERYL’S HAND SHOOK as Detective Gillespie explained the last form she needed to sign.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  “Ye—” She cleared her throat. “Yes.”

  “Let’s go.”

  Locks clanged as a guard guided them through the prison. Cameras were everywhere. On each hallway signs warned You Are Being Recorded. Finally they stood in front of a closed door.

  “This is where I leave you.” Gillespie crouched and looked her in the eyes. “I know Levi frightens you, but he’ll be secured.”

  Secured? “Good.”

  He touched her shoulder. “Good luck, but you don’t need it. You’ve found your courage.”

  Had she? She despised the wimp she’d been.

  The guard explained, “Henshaw’s already in the room.”

  “Does he know who he’s meeting?” Gillespie asked.

  “No.” The guard tugged on his utility belt. “You just holler when you’re ready to leave.”

  Her stomach wanted to get rid of the bit of breakfast she’d choked down. She was going to be locked in a room with the man who’d burned her son with a cigarette, attacked and stolen from her. The man she’d locked away.

  He would not hurt her family again. “Let’s do this.”

  The guard peered through a small side window and unlocked the door. “I’ll keep an eye on you.”

  She squared her shoulders but couldn’t keep her hands from quaking. The door slammed shut with a finality that made her jump.

  “You?” Levi’s gravelly voice sent a shiver down her back.

  She took the chair on the opposite side of the table from him. “Me.”

  Levi had been a high school football player. But he’d gone to fat before Brad had died. Now he’d lost his beer belly and muscles bulged on his arms. A stomach-turning stench of sweat filled the room.

  Her hands shook so hard, she folded them in her lap, out of sight.

  The chains rattled as he reached for her, but he couldn’t touch her. Levi swore and then a sly grin spread across his face. “Surprised to see you with your clothes on.”