Identical Stranger. Alice SharpeЧитать онлайн книгу.
she’d glimpsed her life through a different lens and hated what she saw.
Had she run from her mother’s negativity, Danny’s condescension or her own sudden fear?
A woman exiting a shop caught her attention. Tall and svelte, what really made Sophie look twice was her crown of platinum curls that seemed to announce to the world that this woman took no prisoners. The shop she had left was a hair salon.
“I want to trade places with her,” Sophie said aloud. She got out of the car and walked into the salon.
The hairdresser turned as Sophie entered.
“I need help,” Sophie said.
“Honey, all I can do is fix your hair,” the woman said with a half smile.
“That’s a start,” Sophie said. And in her heart she knew she could never go back to the way things had been.
* * *
JACKSON TRAVERS SAT across the table from the very pretty wife of his best friend, though right now she looked exhausted. It had taken him hours to drive here from his house in Northern California, and as of yet, he still had no idea why Sabrina had summoned him. What he did know was that there wasn’t much he wouldn’t do for Buzz and, by extension, Buzz’s wife.
“It was really nice of you to come,” she said after the waitress delivered coffee. “I’m sorry the hotel is so crazy. As far as I know, this is the first February they’ve hosted a conference here. I had a reservation but I’m worried you’re going to have trouble—”
“Don’t worry about it. The front desk connected me with a little place a couple of miles down the road, so it’s okay. I have to admit I’m curious why you called,” he added. “You sounded spooked on the phone.”
As she pushed aside her dark hair, a series of fresh red scratches on her forehead caught his attention. Since he’d already noticed the abrasions on her palms when they shook hands and the stiff way she moved as she preceded him into the coffee shop next to the hotel, his curiosity ran rampant. “I’ve never called a private investigator before,” she said.
He flashed what he hoped was an encouraging smile. “Think of it more as calling a friend. I know we’ve only met a few times, but you’re Buzz’s wife and that makes you family.”
She smiled. “Thanks.”
“So...”
“First of all, I don’t want Buzz alarmed,” she said quickly. “He has enough going on right now.”
“You’re referring to him being in Antarctica.”
“Yes. The whole scientific team is currently aboard a Russian ship visiting outer islands. I can reach him by radio but holding an in-depth conversation is really hard. He doesn’t need to worry about me.”
Jack studied her for a second. He’d had a feeling of destiny when she called, something not common to him, something he didn’t even believe in. He’d just had the sensation that her call was the catalyst of a crucial moment in his life and he’d rearranged his plans to travel here without a second’s hesitation. “I can’t promise you I won’t notify Buzz until I know what we’re talking about,” he told her at last. “Why don’t you just tell me what’s going on.”
She swallowed a sigh and fidgeted a bit before finally speaking. “It started a couple months ago when I was in the kitchen cooking lasagna. The neighbors across the backyard were having their porch painted. I was at the window draining pasta when I saw the painter taking photos of me with a big camera. By the time I set aside the strainer, his back was to me and then he left... I just had the strangest feeling he’d been doing more than taking pictures, the feeling of, well, invasion.”
“You were cooking?”
“Yes.”
A painful lump appeared in his throat as her words awakened painful memories. They had no place in the present and he did his best to ignore them. “Why do you use the word invasion?”
She shrugged one shoulder. “It felt...personal. Stupid, huh?”
“I don’t know,” he told her, the lump refusing to budge. “Did he paint the porch?”
“What do you mean?”
“Did he finish the job?”
She thought for a second. “I don’t know.”
For a second he just stared at her, forcing himself to let go of out-of-context parallels between Sabrina’s issues and his own past. She was sitting here, alive, proof that his imagination was getting the worst of him. “What happened next?” he finally said.
“A day or so later I came home from work to the feeling that someone had just left our house. No one was there, of course, but I swear, there was just some lingering essence, something that sent chills up my spine. It happened the next day, too. I searched the house but nothing was missing, nothing was even out of place. There was just...nothing.”
“Did you call the cops?”
“Of course not. What could they do?”
“Well, something made you uneasy,” Jack said, not only to reassure her but because he was a firm believer that reasonable people picked up on offbeat vibes they sometimes couldn’t even identify.
“I run into burning buildings for a living,” she said softly. “I’m not anxious to be tagged as the woman who gets rattled over nothing.”
“Buzz calls you unflappable,” he said.
She smiled fondly.
“Anything else?”
“Just that same watched feeling. It started to get under my skin. Last weekend when I walked out of the fire station it was stronger than ever. I looked around, but the only person I saw was sitting in a parked car. He immediately drove off but that afternoon I came home from work and found an origami fox folded out of a dollar bill sitting on the front porch.”
Again he stared at her because now the vibe had changed from creepy to sophomoric. No, he cautioned himself, her story is just diverging from the one written in your head. This is her story, not a trashy remake of yours. “Not inside the house?” he said aloud. “No note or anything?”
“Nothing.”
He folded his hands around his cup. “Tell me why we’re meeting here in Seaport and not back in Astoria where all of this happened.”
“I’m not sure you know this or not, but every February for years I’ve driven up and down the coast. There aren’t many tourists in the winter and the hiking trails are all but empty. Anyway, after Buzz and I got married, we took the trip together. I was dragging my feet about it this year because Buzz is gone, but after I found one of those origami foxes perched on my steering wheel I decided it was time to get away for a while, and since I’d already made all the reservations—well, I just went, a day early, too, which I thought would give me a chance to chill out.
“I drove down to the California border pretty much in a straight line, stayed a couple of nights in Brookings and then started my way back up the coast just like I always do. Everything was going okay until I was hiking a narrow trail down to the beach about fifty miles south of here. A falling boulder appeared out of nowhere. It hit my left side and knocked me to the ground. I had to scramble to keep from going over the edge. It was a long way down to the rocks and I could hear waves breaking.” She took a deep breath and continued. “Once I was back on the trail I heard something on the bluff above me.”
“Like what?” he asked as he realized the scratches on her face and hands were undoubtedly caused when she fought to keep from tumbling over the edge of the mountain.
“Like footsteps.”
“You’re thinking some purposely dislodged the rock?”
“I don’t