Adrianne Byrd - Deadly Double

“A mental institution,” he clarified.

Her heart leapt as more pictures spun through her mind. Pressing a hand against her throbbing temples, she rejected his words. Why would she be in a mental institution?

“How can you say that, Michelle? You just killed Daniel!” “I’m not Michelle!” Josie shook the voice from her head. “My name is Josephine!” William smiled. “I know.” “It’s Josephine,” she repeated.

“I know,” he said, draping an arm around her shoulders. It was awkward comforting her. Now that she was conscious, his heart struggled to protect itself. Josie eased out of his arms. “So you believe me?” “Of course I do.” William pretended her withdrawal didn’t bother him and stood up from the bed. “Thank you,” she said softly. “I’m surprised that you helped after...?” Their eyes met again. William couldn’t ignore the pain and uncertainty reflected in them. “You needed my help.”

Her gaze fluttered down to her hands. “No one would listen to me. They just kept drugging me to the point where I couldn’t think.” William watched her as she fidgeted with her hands. “They were stealing my life.” His mind immediately jumped to the Josephine Ferrell he’d met earlier. “Your sister?” More tears splashed down her face. “Everyone.” He frowned. “I met your sister today,” he began slowly. “She was introduced to me as Josephine Ferrell, as you.” Josie closed her eyes at this news and took a long while to compose herself. “She’s evil.” William drew a deep breath. “I still don’t quite understand what’s going on.”

Josie sighed. “I don’t know what to tell you. A lot of this doesn’t make much sense to me either.” Her eyes opened, and then captured his gaze. “But thank you.”

William folded his arms. “I had to do something.”

“But this is going to cause you a lot of trouble.”

“Potentially,” he agreed. “If I’m found out, but I don’t plan for that to happen. Right now, the authorities don’t know if your disappearance is a kidnapping or if you left voluntarily. Once we get you back on your feet, it should be a breeze to convince the authorities you’re the real Josephine Ferrell.

“After that you can have your sister arrested for fraud and probably a wealth of other charges for the things she’s done to you. If we play our cards right, no one will ever need to know I took you from Keystone. Maybe we can keep that secret between us?”

“Deal.” Josie agreed with his logic, but the plan was too simplistic to be trusted. “So it will be my word against Michelle’s?”

“No.” He frowned as he moved over to the armchair across from the bed. “We should be able to find plenty of people to corroborate your story: friends, family…”

“Significant others?” she supplied softly.

William paused. “Yes, uh, those, him, one of those could help.”

She studied him while the corners of her lips softened. “There might be a slight problem with that. I don’t have any family or friends here in the states. My father was all I had and he’s dead.” “My condolences. I didn’t know. When?” “A year ago, I think. What’s today’s date?” “October 15.” “It was just April...” Her mouth fell open as if the information floored her. “Surely, there are aunts, uncles, nieces, nephews, or even distant cousins?”

Josie sighed. “I couldn’t pick out a cousin from a police lineup. I hardly know anything about my parents’ families. I was never around them. Surely, if I don’t know them, they’re not going to be able to tell the difference between me and Michelle.”

“Wasn’t your father a wealthy businessman?”

She fell back among the bed’s pillows. “My father left me a sizable inheritance.”

“Which I’m guessing is what Michelle just stole from you,” he said, and then watched as a cloud of despair settled over her features. “Sorry.”

Josie shook her head. “You have nothing to be sorry for,” she said with a long measure of remorse. “You were the only one willing to help me.”

“I was the only one who knew who you were.” He paused before continuing, “I guess that leaves medical records. We can get on the phone and order a copy of your medical and dental records.”

“That’s right,” she perked up. “I’ve been seeing the same physicians in France for years.”

“See, there you go. We’ll be able to prove your identity in no time,” he encouraged. “Of course, you could always just sing for them,” he joked. “You’re Josephine Ferrell, the great jazz and blues singer.”

Her gaze refused to meet his. “I can’t,” she whispered.

“Why not?”

Josie raked her hands through her hair. “I need to get some more rest,” she said suddenly. “I’m very tired, and my head hurts.” William frowned. “Are you feeling nauseous again? Do you need me to help you to the bathroom?” “No,” she said, curling beneath the covers. “I just need to rest. We can call my doctors first thing in the morning.” “Of course we can.”

The silence between them grew tense, and Josie hoped William wouldn’t ask her any more questions. She truly wasn’t up to it. Everything overwhelmed her at that moment. Maybe tomorrow she would be able to make better sense of it all. “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?