“Just try to behave yourself.”
He smiled thinly. “I’ll do my best.”
WHEN RYAN WOKE, he wasn’t sure how long he’d been unconscious but his head felt like it had been trampled by a herd of elephants and then used for batting practice by the New York Mets.
He was in an enclosed dark space. He pressed his hands above his head and then swore under his breath.
His twin and the man’s associate had locked him in the trunk of his car. Bastards. The air was musty, but breathable. Car trunks were not airtight. Or impossible to escape from.
His doppelganger had seen one too many gangster movies.
It didn’t take long before he found the latches and pushed down the seats so he could slip out of the car.
He scanned the area. Nobody was around. He grabbed his cell phone, which sat on the front seat. A quick check at the time told him it had only been ten minutes since he’d come outside in the first place. Not bad. But not good. That meant his doppelganger was…
His body tensed. He didn’t want to think about it. He just needed to do something about it.
Grabbing the phone, he dialed a number that he knew from memory. Emma’s house. He had to warn her.
The phone kept ringing and no one picked up. Finally the call went to voicemail. He swore under his breath, pressed the disconnect button, and tried another number.
The recipient picked up on the third ring.
“McKay.”
“Patrick…” Ryan’s voice came out hoarse and his head felt like it was on fire. “This is Ryan. Ryan Shephard.”
“Ryan Shephard? Are you serious?”
“Yes, I know you think I’m the son of a bitch who stole from you, but don’t hang up.”
“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t.”
“I’ll give you two reasons.”
And then he launched into the quickest, most ridiculous story he’d ever told anyone in his entire life.
It was, of course, all true. But whether Patrick would believe him was another matter altogether.
17
WITH EVERY MINUTE THAT PASSED, Emma was less and less certain that they’d been right. Maybe it was true. Maybe Charlotte didn’t have anything to do with the thefts. The woman’s conversation with Xavier today was extremely damning, but maybe there was another explanation.
“I’m not sure what to do,” she said out loud a few minutes later.
“About what?” Ryan asked.
“About everything.”
“Are you talking about the thief or about us?”
She looked at him. “I was talking about the thief, but now that you mention it…”
“What?”
It wasn’t something she’d meant to discuss tonight, but now that the opportunity presented itself… “Is there an us?”
He raised a dark eyebrow. “I think that’s a question you need to answer for yourself.”
She chewed her bottom lip. “Yeah, but it’s a scary one.”
“Why’s it scary?”
“Because it just is.”
“That’s not a very good answer. I thought you were a wordsmith. You and your little book.” He settled his hand on her left thigh, just under the edge of her skirt.
“Yeah, me and my book.” She sighed. “I started writing down my fantasies because I needed something I wasn’t getting from my regular life. I was able to disappear into those fantasies. I mean, I guess you know that. You recreated one of them earlier upstairs.”
“I’d like to bring all your fantasies to life, Emma.”
“There’s time for that.” Then she paused. “Unless there isn’t time. I mean, I don’t know what your ultimate plans are.”
He watched her carefully. “My plans?”
“After all of this is over? Are you still going to leave to work with your brother in Florida? That’s a long way from here.”
“It is a long way.”
“I’m not saying that you need to stay with me. I…” Her cheeks warmed. “This has been really great, getting to know you again.”
“Good,” he said. “Let’s just enjoy what’s between us for what it is. Hot sex and some good times. Everything else will sort itself out.”
She felt the color drain from her face. “Yeah. Sure.”
Ryan leaned back. “I have a question. Those jars, the djinn ones. Do you think they really exist somewhere or did you just make it up?”
Emma was still trying to recover from hearing that Ryan considered their relationship to be not much more than a fling. “It’s fiction. But you already know that.”
“Yeah, I forgot. Sorry.” Ryan tensed. “You know, something suddenly feels really off to me.”
That made two of them. “Like what?”
“Maybe I should swing past Charlotte’s place and see if she’s up to anything.”
Emma crossed her arms over her chest and put a bit of distance between them. “Better not get too close or she’ll try to seduce you again.”
His expression stiffened. “Like she did the other day, right?”
“Right.” She pushed away her disappointment. She could deal with all of that later.
He finally got to his feet. His jeans looked dark in the half light of the room. “I need to go.”
She looked at him with surprise. “You’re going to leave me here? Just like that?”
“I’ll be back.”
This didn’t sound like the plan they’d had earlier. She didn’t blame Ryan for being impatient. She could, however, blame him for many other things at the moment.
Emma nodded. “Go ahead and do whatever you’ve got to do.”
“How about a kiss for good luck?” he whispered, just before pulling her closer and pressing his mouth to hers. She wasn’t surprised that she didn’t feel anything this time. No lust or even a spark of desire. The Desidero potion was definitely a thing of the past.
Emma pulled back from him and he turned toward the door just as it swung open in front of them. Standing there was Ryan’s exact double. His face was flushed red with anger and his hand clenched into tight fists at his sides.
“I’m going to kill you,” he growled just before he stormed into the house and grabbed hold of Ryan.
Emma shrieked, clamping a hand over her mouth. She was stunned by what she was seeing. They were exactly the same. The clothes, the hair, the body, the face. Everything.
The real thief had used a potion in order to look like Ryan. To impersonate him. To pin the crime easily on him. And he was back for more. He looked exactly like Ryan.
The two Ryans fought on the floor, punching and clawing at each other. She’d already lost track of which man was the real Ryan.
There was a thunder of footsteps and suddenly Charlotte appeared at the door, wide-eyed as she looked in.
“Emma! I stopped by to make sure you were okay. What the hell’s going on?”
This night was not going according to plan, to say the very damn least. Emma tried to breathe normally, but it was a struggle. She had to keep her wits about her or everything was going to fall completely apart. This wasn’t how she planned to catch a thief—or two—but she had to roll with the punches.
“Stop this!” She surged forward and grabbed the bicep of one of the men. “I mean it. Stop this right now!”
They broke apart, scrambling back from each other.
“So do you see now?” one growled at her. “I was right all along.”
Emma studied his face. She studied both of them, side by side, quickly, trying to spot any clues, any differences. They were dressed similarly, but not completely identical. One black T-shirt was slightly worn, a little more charcoal than gray. One pair of jeans was darker than the other. But everything else, down to the fine hair on their forearms, looked identical. Eyebrows, lips, eye color. They were like twins.
She couldn’t help but snort. “Maybe you were wrong, Ryan. Maybe this has nothing to do with a potion. Maybe you have a twin brother you weren’t aware of.”
&
nbsp; “No,” both said at the same time, then glared at each other.
The Ryan with the darker shirt stepped forward. “This son of a bitch attacked me outside and threw me in the trunk of my car. I tried to call you but it went to voicemail.”
Emma regarded him cautiously. “If you say so.”
He hissed out a breath. “Oh, come on, Em. You have to know it’s really me.”
Emma tried to think. “We’ll just wait here until the potion wears off. Then whoever is lying will be revealed.”
“Good idea,” Ryan said.
“Bad idea,” the other Ryan said. “By then, he’ll have figured out a way to escape,” he said, pointing to the other man. “If he’s willing to steal and knock me unconscious, he’s willing to do anything, especially when forced into a corner like a trapped animal.”
Light-shirted Ryan eyed him. “You think so, huh? That’s exactly what a criminal would say.”
“Blow me.” Dark-shirted Ryan rolled his eyes and looked directly at her. “I know we look alike, but can you seriously not see the difference? Come on.”
“It’ll be okay, Emma, I promise,” Light-shirted Ryan said. “I’m here for you.”
Emma frowned. “A couple minutes ago, you gave me the impression you were out of Mystic Ridge the moment you had the chance.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“It was implied.”
Dark-shirted Ryan glared at him. “If you insist on impersonating me, the least you can do is not be a total dick about it.”
The other Ryan clenched his fists. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. You’re going to pay for this.”
“I already have,” dark-shirted Ryan said. “I’ve paid with the last six months of my life.”
“I can tell the difference,” Charlotte added suddenly. “I can understand why you can’t, Emma, but it’s clear to me. After all, I was involved with Ryan for much longer than you were. Plus, I’m empathic.”
Emma eyed her skeptically. “Okay, so tell me. Which is the real Ryan?”
She walked toward them, her gaze raking their bodies each in turn. She put her hand against one’s chest, then did the same to the other.
“I didn’t ask you to fondle them,” Emma said with annoyance. “I asked you to tell me which one is the real Ryan.”
“Sorry.” Charlotte grinned. “I was having a personal fantasy there for a moment. I think I get why you wrote that book now.”
“Sure you do.”
Charlotte glanced at her with confusion. “I sense that you’re angry with me.”
Happy thoughts only. “Why would I be angry? You knew I was in a hard spot so you stopped by to make sure I was okay. That was really nice of you.”
Charlotte returned her attention to the job at hand, sliding her fingers through both men’s hair. Each one looked uncomfortable with the close scrutiny.
“It’s this one.” Charlotte put her hand on the lighter-shirted Ryan’s shoulder.
“Yeah?” Emma asked, peering at him closer.
“No doubt about it.”
“How do you know?”
Charlotte shrugged. “I just know.”
That made two of them. Although Emma had already known the truth of who the real Ryan was for a while.
Charlotte was an empath and empaths couldn’t sense the feelings of other empaths. Stephen—if this was Stephen in disguise—was a clairvoyant like Emma. His emotions would be bubbling up, ready for any empath to latch on to without much difficulty. But he could be hiding those feelings, especially if he thought Charlotte had cheated on him with Ryan…
She decided to continue to play along.
“I just wish I knew,” Emma said, twisting a finger into her hair. “I mean, I thought that me and Ryan…the real Ryan…had something together. But if I can’t tell the difference…”
She moved closer to lighter-shirted Ryan, placed her hands on his chest and looked up into his eyes. “Is it really you?”
“Yes, Emma. It’s me.”
“Em,” the real Ryan growled from next to her. “What the hell? I can’t believe you really don’t know.”
He sounded totally pissed. She was very glad to know he cared.
“I know now.” She kept looking at light-shirted Ryan and pushed a very natural smile onto her face. “See, Ryan? It’s going to be okay. Just like in my book, this is all going to have a happy ending.”
He embraced her. “I’m so glad to hear that. Every story deserves a happily-ever-after.”
“Uh, Em,” the other Ryan said. “Your book didn’t have a happy ending.”
“I know.” She leaned over to grab her gun out of the purse she’d brought back downstairs with her earlier and pressed it into the side of the fake Ryan. “I think that’s enough affection for one night, jerk.”
He let go of her immediately, raising his hands, and backed up a step. “Shit.”
“Yes, I’m armed. I’m dangerous. And I’m seriously pissed off.”
“She definitely is,” Ryan said. She glanced over her shoulder to see that he held Charlotte tightly by her wrist. “Nice of you to figure it out, by the way. I’m not insulted at all that it was that difficult.”
She waved a hand. “Please. I knew it from the very beginning.”
“You did?”
“Well…not the very beginning, but pretty damn close. He kept calling me Emma. Besides, he doesn’t kiss anything like you do.”
Ryan growled. “He kissed you? Son of a bitch.”
His twin shrugged. “So sue me.”
“I think I just might.”
Somebody knocked on the frame of the open door. Emma looked over to see Patrick McKay standing there leaning on his cane. She was both surprised and relieved to see her agency manager at eleven-thirty on a Saturday night.
“Am I interrupting anything?” he asked calmly. Obviously, the scene in front of him didn’t even merit a raised eyebrow.
Emma looked at Ryan.
He shrugged. “I called him before I came to rescue you. I’d hoped he’d believe the bizarre story I was about to tell him.”
“I didn’t believe you,” Patrick said. “But it’s been a slow night.”
He entered the house and moved toward the false Ryan who looked severely dismayed by this turn of events. Patrick cocked his head to the side. “Doppelganger potion. Had I been the witness to your break and enter last year, I would have been able to tell immediately that you weren’t really Ryan. Videotape isn’t any good to an empath. Hello, Stephen. I’m guessing that your assessment and raise a few months ago weren’t quite to your liking?”
Stephen just glared at his boss.
“Stephen?” Charlotte gasped. “My God. Is that really you? How could you do this? You’re breaking my heart!”
“Can it, Charlotte,” Patrick said. “It’s now obvious to me what’s happening. I think if I make a quick call to Xavier Franklin, he’d be very happy to tell me everything. Having PARA as a friend is much more beneficial to him than having us as an enemy. His secrets aren’t quite as secret as he thinks they are.”
Charlotte’s eyes filled with tears. “This isn’t fair. Emma, please, you have to believe that I never meant for things to go this far. The economy these days—”
“It’s rough, I know.” Emma nodded. “Stealing something and selling it for cold hard cash is really tempting when you’re used to having money to burn all your life. I get it.”
“And?” It was clear that Charlotte was looking for forgiveness.
“And—” Emma’s grip on the gun was so tight, she was certain it would leave a mark. She just hoped nobody would guess that she never kept bullets in it. “—you can kiss my ass. I know it’s not the most mature response, but it’s been a long night. Sorry about that.”
Patrick didn’t call the police. He called the PARA board of directors.
Stephen and Charlotte looked at each other in misery. They knew dealing with the top brass would be much, much worse.
&nbs
p; 18
THE NIGHT WAS A BLUR. At the end of it, before they’d had much of a chance to talk everything out, Ryan headed back to his motel to gather up his belongings and Emma crashed for a couple hours of sleep. Patrick had asked to see both of them in his office first thing the next morning.
They arrived separately, but walked together to his office. The news of what had happened with Charlotte and Stephen wasn’t yet common knowledge, so Ryan was met with glares by agents working the Sunday morning shift.
“It’s okay,” Emma said to him, reaching down to grab his hand. “It won’t be much longer before everyone knows the truth.”
“It’s a relief,” he said. “Can’t lie about that.”
“A celebration is in order.”
“I totally agree.”
“Come in.” Patrick beckoned for them to enter his office. “Close the door.”
They did as he asked and stood in front of his desk as he sorted through some paperwork. “Please, sit down.”
There were two chairs across from him and they each sat. Finally, Patrick folded his hands in front of him and looked across at Ryan, his expression somber.
“First of all, on behalf of myself and PARA, I want to extend my deepest apologies for the mistakes made six months ago. You were unjustly fired. I personally thought the evidence spoke for itself, but it goes to show that anyone can be fooled now and then.”
The apology made Emma sigh in relief. It felt like it was a very long time coming. That it had all turned out for the best made her truly happy for Ryan.
Ryan nodded. “I appreciate that, Patrick. Honestly, if I’d been in your shoes, I would have done the same thing.”
“Maybe, or maybe you would have take a little extra time, ignored the work piling up on your desk, and investigated a little deeper. Since you’re an empath, I wasn’t able to get a read on you. I realize just how much I rely on my ability to tell me who’s lying and who’s telling the truth. It wasn’t an asset in this case. And for that I’m truly sorry.”
Ryan reached across the desk and shook Patrick’s hand. “I accept your apology. Thank you.”
Emma grinned and rubbed his arm.
“Now, there’s the matter of whether or not you’d be interested in coming back to PARA. You were a good agent.”