Adrianne Byrd - Deadly Double

“No one here is your friend, D’Angelo. You got something for me or not? And before you speak, let me warn you: If I find out that you’ve lied to me about knowing, planning, or aiding in any of Michelle’s illegal endeavors, I’ll lock you up for so long that you’ll forget how to spell freedom; let alone remember what it means.”

D’Angelo laughed, but then fell silent when Ming’s expression remained hard and serious. He cleared his throat. “I ain’t got nothin’ to do with any murders.” Ming crossed her arms and waited patiently. D’Angelo looked uncomfortable. “All right. She came and saw me today. Is that what you want to hear?” “All I want is the truth.” She kept her eyes trained on him. “We already suspected she came to see you.”

“Well, that explains why you dragged my black ass down here.” He started to kick his legs up again, but thought better of it when Ming’s gaze smote him. “Now that I’ve confirmed this for you, am I free to leave?” “No.” “Figures.” D’Angelo rolled his eyes and hardened his jaw. “What else can I do for you, Det. Delaney? I live to serve you.” “I need to know whether Michelle Andrews is masquerading as her twin sister Josephine Ferrell.” He tossed up his hands. “I don’t know.” Ming allowed a deafening silence to choke the truth out of him. “She might be. She didn’t confess if that’s what you’re getting at. I’m not a priest.” Nodding, she swallowed her irritation and attacked from a different angle. “What’s your specialty, D’Angelo?” His sly smile returned. “A jack-of-all-trades and a master at a few.” “Uh, huh. But you’re pretty good about forging documents, right?”

D’Angelo laughed. “Now I have stupid stamped on my forehead.”

“I see it pretty clearly. After all, you’re trying to con me.” She finally smiled. “Just we haven’t been able to put you out of business doesn’t mean we don’t know everything about you.”

His expression quickly turned somber. “Big Brother?”

“Always around to keep you in check.” Ming winked. “The question now is: What would Andrews want with a man in your line of work?” He said nothing. She lifted her brows in mild amusement. “Was that little piece today worth acquiring a new boyfriend down in lockup?” Shock colored his expression with vibrant red hues. Ming enjoyed being in her element. “Big Brother is always watching.”

“Fine.” His eyes rolled again. “This ain’t worth it. Michelle came to see me about getting a passport. Said she needed it in a hurry. But I’m guessing you knew that as well?” Already suspecting something along these lines, Ming nodded and waited for him to continue. “She also said that she needed some protection.” “She purchased a weapon?” “Nah. Michelle already had that covered, but she wanted to borrow some muscle, so I loaned her a few of my best men.” “That was awfully nice of you.”

D’Angelo’s smile made a dramatic return. “Let’s just say that she made it worth my while. The girl is a freak in the bedroom. Knows just how a man likes it, if you catch my drift.”

“Unfortunately. Did you provide her with a passport?”

“No, Your Honor,” he replied, bitingly. “I didn’t exactly have time since your lynch men stormed my place thirty minutes after she left.”

“What was the name she wanted on the passport?”

He hesitated, but finally gave up the ghost after another lethal dose of the silent treatment. “Josephine Ferrell. Are you happy now?”

Straight-faced, Ming stood from her chair. “Ecstatic.”

#

The day might have started off pretty badly, but Michelle loved how everything had turned around. During her ride back to the Ferrell Estate she reviewed everything that had transpired at Keystone and couldn’t help the smile that exploded across her face. Josephine didn’t hold all the cards after all.

You know what happens when you get overconfident, Michelle.

“It’s Josephine. And I’m not listening to you.”

The cackling voice inside her head only laughed. You still have to kill her, you know. The world isn’t big enough for two Josephine Ferrells.

Michelle hated to admit it, but the voice was right. How long could she bank on Josephine’s fear of going to the police? Since she was most likely off the drugs, wouldn’t she soon discover that she had no real memory of killing Daniel?

“That woman is officially a pain in the ass.”

True. But we still have to deal with her.

Michelle nodded and drummed her fingers against the steering wheel as she tried to devise a new plan. “How in the hell can I find her?”

The voice in her head fell silent.

“I always have to think of everything.”

She turned her beloved red Jaguar onto the estate’s curvy driveway with her mind wrapped around finding Josie and the large check she’d receive, possibly as early as tomorrow. At least now she didn’t have to start selling things in the house.

Michelle parked the car in the east wing garage and entered the house through the kitchen. But she stopped cold when the house alarm began its slow beeping. She never set the alarm. Quickly, she dashed to the nearest keypad. “What the hell is the code?” She couldn’t remember. Josie had told her once, but...damn. The steady slow beeps began to pick up speed, narrowing her time to enter the correct code.

“It had something to do with someone she met in Paris,” she fretted. “Initials. Someone’s initials.” On a whim she punched in C.H.W. with no clue to why, but was certain she was right.

An error message strolled across the small green screen and the countdown continued.

Maybe it’s in the wrong order. “Shut up,” she hissed, but then punched in W.H.C. Another error message. Michelle’s heart hammered. Why couldn’t she remember this? She punched in H.C.W.

Error.

H.W.C.

Error. W.C.H. The alarm chirped twice and the beeping stopped. Relieved, she slumped against the wall.

That was close.

Michelle agreed. If the alarm had gone off and the security office called, she had no idea what the Ferrell password was to prevent the cops from being sent to the residence.

Who set the alarm?

An icy chill slithered down her back. She certainly hadn’t set it. She glanced around the large, spacious kitchen, half-expecting a gremlin or ghoul to jump out. When, at last, she found nothing out of the ordinary hovering in any of the nooks or crannies, she proceeded to tiptoe out of the room.

The rest of the house was a huge fortress. Someone could be hiding anywhere.

“Josie,” she whispered. “She set it.”

She’s screwing with you. Oh, this is good. Instead of us finding her, she’s come to us.

Michelle had the same thoughts. Where in the hell were those damn bodyguards she got from D’Angelo? Yeah, she’d gunned it on the highway, but shouldn’t they have been there by now?

Where did you put the gun?

“Upstairs in my bedroom.” She glanced around as she inched through the house. “I should have seen this coming,” she chastised.

The voice said nothing, undoubtedly because it agreed with her.

One thing she noticed was that the house seemed to creak each time she took a step, and no matter how much she tried to control her breathing, its sound magnified and bounced off every wall. When she reached the spiral staircase, Michelle had the ingenious idea of sliding off her pumps.

Afterward, she hesitated to ascend.

Don’t tell me that the big bad wolf is afraid of a little mouse.

Michelle bristled and took her first step, but her brave front didn’t last long. Halfway up, she found herself wondering again about her absent bodyguards. Was she walking into some kind of trap? Had Josie somehow bribed D’Angelo’s men?