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  Now, lying in her hospital bed, facing the worst dilemma of her life, she realized that she really knew little about her sister’s husband. Was Jass a kind man? Would he take her in his arms and sympathize with her over the loss of her sister?

  ***

  Jass stood at the window of the Minneapolis airport, watching small tractors pull loads of luggage over to gray and red jets. Early morning sunshine glittered off the fuselage, forcing him to squint against the brightness.

  He stood with arms crossed, feet slightly apart, in a relaxed stance that belied the tension he felt. He already had a splitting headache from it. It had started with the phone call last night, when a gravelly-voiced San Francisco police officer told him LaRae had been in a car accident, was in the hospital, injured, and her sister, Laurie, was dead. Could he come? He had dropped everything and booked a seat on the first flight. He still felt numb with shock.

  LaRae had been driving, and he knew she liked to drive fast. Had she been drinking as well? He'd asked, but the officer had said only that they were waiting for test results. He hoped those were negative, so LaRae wouldn't have to deal with legal charges and guilt on top of grief.

  He ached for Laurie and knew his wife would sadly miss her twin. So young, with a good career as a model. He remembered Laurie as a fun-loving duplicate of LaRae. She’d been LaRae’s maid of honor, and he’d liked Laurie, though they hadn’t seen much of her since their wedding. Everything had been so hectic that day, that he didn’t remember much about her except those wide hazel eyes watching him shyly. His heart contracted. She was much too young to die.

  There was almost no one left in LaRae’s family, only Aunt Martha, almost eighty, and some cousins. That left it up to him and LaRae to take care of Laurie’s funeral arrangements.

  He heard his flight number called, turned and boarded. He stowed his carry-on and settled into his window seat, wincing as the sharp clapping sounds of other passengers closing the overhead luggage compartments aggravated his headache.

  Closing his eyes, he leaned back and remembered the fight with LaRae the morning before she’d left.

  They’d been at the breakfast table. He had stared down at his bacon and eggs and had suddenly lost his appetite.

  The argument had been his own fault; at least he’d started it, with his jealous comment over how many times his wife had danced with her stockbroker at the party the night before. LaRae loved to dance, and he didn’t, mainly because he wasn’t very good at it. Computers and numbers were his forte, not social gatherings.

  “Can I help it if Louis likes me?” she asked.

  Her sly grin and disdainful shrug angered him. She pushed back her long hair with a manicured hand, her bright red nail polish contrasting with her blond hair. She acted as if she didn’t care what he thought, but he was sure she did. Hadn't she been flirting with that silver-haired Romeo to make him jealous?

  “Louis likes your money, you mean,” he shot back, unable to stop himself. “How much did you pay him in commissions last year anyway?”

  “How do I know? Figuring out that stuff is his job.”

  “You ought to be paying attention to what he’s doing, LaRae. He could be cheating you, and you’d never know it.”

  She made a face. “Louis wouldn’t do that, Love.”

  Agnes, their chubby, gray-haired housekeeper interrupted, on purpose he felt sure. Jass knew she hated seeing them quarrel. “More coffee, Mr. Markham? Here’s the morning mail.”

  “Thanks, Agnes.” He swallowed his anger along with his coffee and turned to his letters, vowing to say no more.

  Then he opened the letter from their bank saying their household account was overdrawn and his temper flared anew. “Overdrawn? Honestly, LaRae, how can you have spent that much already this month?”

  She looked up at him, an innocent expression on her perfectly shaped, oval face. “I’m overdrawn again? I don’t know. I only bought a couple of new swimsuits and some other stuff for my trip to California.”

  “You have a whole closet full of new clothes!”

  “Jass! You wouldn’t want me to look frumpy to my twin sister, would you? After all, Laurie’s a model, and I’m just a housewife. I didn’t have anything suitable for San Francisco.”

  Jass sighed at her reference to her upcoming trip. He didn’t want her to go, yet didn't want to stop her. Laurie had invited her sister to come out to celebrate their twenty-eighth birthday. After all, it had been years since the twins had spent time together, so he could hardly refuse. What kind of husband would he be to deny his wife that?

  “Besides,” LaRae insisted, “my checkbook doesn’t say I’m out of money. Maybe the bank made a mistake.”

  His laugh came out a short, mirthless bark. “I doubt it. Give me your checkbook and I’ll balance it tonight.” He pushed back his chair and rose. “I’ve got to go or I’ll be late for work.”

  “But I need my checkbook. I don’t have much cash, and I’ve got a luncheon date at the club today. Then I’m supposed to go swimming with Cathy this afternoon.”

  “LaRae, don’t you understand? You can’t write more checks. There’s no money left in that account. Use one of your credit cards until I make another deposit.”

  LaRae pouted, but agreed. She stood and gave him a quick kiss good-bye, her long blond hair swinging with the movement.

  He kissed her back, breathing in the familiar floral scent of her French perfume. God, she was gorgeous. She could still turn him on, in spite of the problems they’d been having lately. Susie, at five, adored her mother, even though LaRae paid her little attention.

  He just wanted a peaceful, happy home life. But how much longer could he put up with LaRae's flirtations to keep his daughter happy? A five year old needed her mother, didn't she? Would he lose Susie if he and LaRae divorced?

  Had he been too hard on LaRae? She really didn’t seem to understand finances, even though she’d inherited a sizable chunk of money from her father. Jass had promised not to interfere in the way she allowed her late father’s attractive stockbroker to manage it. He assumed Louis must be reliable if LaRae’s father, Sam Johnson, had trusted him all those years. After all, Sam had had a reputation as a good businessman. Too bad LaRae hadn’t inherited Sam’s knack of managing money, but she didn’t seem to care.

  Now Jass remembered that he’d felt guilty that morning at the thought that LaRae’s absence would seem like a vacation for him, too. A vacation from the constant tension of quarrels.

  A stewardess passed him, and Jass opened his eyes and requested some aspirin and a glass of water.

  Now everything had changed. LaRae would still be gone a while, only she’d be spending that time in the hospital instead of enjoying the California sunshine with Laurie.

  The stewardess brought his aspirin. Gratefully, he downed the tablets, then settled back again with a sigh. On his way to the airport, he’d stopped to tell Aunt Martha the sad news. She’d been very upset, and he worried about the dear old lady. He was pleased when Agnes had offered to go over immediately so the eighty-year-old wouldn’t be alone in her grief.

  Jass' thoughts drifted. He remembered the night of his wedding rehearsal. He’d come straight from work to the church with Ken, his cousin and best man. Jass had seen LaRae talking to one of the bridesmaids. Coming up behind her, he’d caught her around the waist and turned her into his arms for a welcoming kiss.

  For a moment, she’d responded, then she’d gone rigid in his arms and pushed him away. He’d leaned back to look at her shocked face.

  “Hello, Honey. LaRae, what’s the matter?”

  “Jass! I’m Laurie. LaRae’s over there.”

  Talk about an embarrassed bridegroom. He’d dropped his arms, and backed away. Staring from twin one to the other, he stammered an apology. Luckily, they weren’t dressed alike, so, for the rest of the evening, he’d been able to tell them apart by their clothes.

  But that incident had definitely put a damper on any gathering the women both a
ttended from that day on. Whenever he knew the twins would be together, he took careful note of what LaRae wore, although he’d never paid much attention to her clothes before.

  LaRae had begun to stay near him at those times, as though nervous and afraid of losing him. He was ashamed to remember that he’d been relieved when Laurie moved to California. LaRae had definitely relaxed after that.

  Jass’s headache eased and he stared out at the clouds as they flew over them. They resembled Minnesota’s snow, pushed back into fluffy white piles by the snow plow after a winter storm.

  He fell asleep, not waking until the captain announced that they were approaching the San Francisco airport.

  From the airport, Jass took a taxi to the hospital and followed directions to the correct floor.

  ***

  Laurie was sucking up the last of the chocolate malt through the straw when Jass walked in.

  She looked up and stared at him, her mouth suddenly dry in spite of the cold drink. She set aside her glass. The moment was here. She felt tongue-tied and nervous, not knowing how to begin.

  He looked the same, tall, handsome, and rugged. He wore a beige sweater and brown slacks and looked every inch as desirable as she remembered. She swallowed, and her heart felt squeezed by the pain she was about to inflict on him.

  “Hello, LaRae.” His brown eyes met hers. There was concern and relief on his face as he looked her over, but no smile. His curly dark hair looked tousled, as though he’d been running nervous fingers through it.

  Her throat closed on the huge lump that formed there, and she could only reach out her free arm to him. Why was his face so cold and grim? Wasn’t he glad to see her alive? He thought she was his wife, after all. God, I hate to tell him that I’m not!

  He walked to the right side of her bed, squeezed her hand, avoiding the tube sticking out of it, then gave her a quick kiss on the forehead. The metal hospital chair scraped on the tile floor as he pulled it closer and sat down, looking at her.

  “Hello, Jass.” She tried to smile, winced and put up a hand to her face.

  “Hurts, eh? You’re lucky that’s all you got, a few broken bones, and stitches.”

  The scolding tone of his voice shocked her into silence. She stared into his brown eyes. Her shock must have shown on her face, because he flushed, evidently realizing how that had sounded.

  He sighed and ran long fingers through his curly hair as though exasperated. “I’m sorry, LaRae. I'm glad you're going to be okay. The doctor said you probably won't even have much of a scar."

  She nodded.

  "Will you explain how this happened? I know you loved your sister, and now you’re grieving and in pain. But, why in hell were you driving on the San Francisco freeway in a rented car anyway? Unfamiliar car, unfamiliar road. It was bound to mean trouble. You should have let Laurie drive.”

  “That isn’t fair. The van cut in on me. Accidents happen.”

  He frowned, and went on, “I’ll bet you were speeding as usual, too.”

  Staring at him, she could only shake her head.

  “No? Well, thank goodness for that, at least. Why didn’t you let Laurie drive her car? She’s used to this city, knows the roads.”

  So that’s why they think I’m LaRae. I was driving her rented car. Our purses were probably together on the floor of the car, or who knows where after the crash.

  “In the garage for repairs,” she got out past frozen lips. Talking made her cheek hurt and she put up a hand to touch the bandage. She couldn’t tell him that being used to the city wouldn’t have prevented the accident because, she, Laurie, the one familiar with the city, had been driving, and it had still happened.

  He got up and paced the small room. She watched him, swallowing her tears and feeling sick at heart. He blamed her for her sister’s death, and he was right. Hadn’t she told herself the same thing half the night? Then why did it hurt so much more when he said it? He stood at the window, his back to her, his pose stiff and angry-looking.

  Pain, both emotional and physical, swept through her body. How could she stand more pain, the pain which telling him she was Laurie would surely bring?

  Suddenly Emy’s face popped into her mind. As clearly as though she were there, Laurie remembered going through the dark tunnel and talking to Emy afterward. “Remember that you’re to stay there and take care of Susie,” Emy admonished. “You promised.” Laurie glanced at Jass, half expecting him to have heard Emy as well. But he evidently hadn’t.

  Had that visit through the tunnel to the beautiful garden, and talking to Emy been reality? Or a dream? Or some hallucination brought on by the medication for her surgery? Her heart pounded in confusion. What should she do?

  “Play the game as you promised,” Emy said clearly. “Let them all keep on thinking you’re LaRae.”

  Laurie shook her head to chase away the delusion. I must be overmedicated to be hearing voices from my past. No, voices from the dead!

  She tried, “I’m sorry about all the expense....”

  Jass turned back to her and said, “Don't worry about bills. We’re fully insured and our car insurance should take care of the rental car, too. I’ll call to check. You don’t have to think about any of that. I’ll take care of the paperwork.”

  She sighed. “Good.” Her mind was spinning again and she felt dizzy.

  He kept talking. She tried to concentrate, to make sense of what he was saying. Something about arranging burial beside her parents in the family plot back in Minnesota. Vaguely she realized that he wanted a reply.

  She nodded agreement. Yes, beside her parents sounded right. What did it matter where you put a dead body? LaRae was gone; she would never play their games again. The tears started anew and she couldn’t stop them. The lump in her throat was too big, and her face too sore. She couldn’t get the words out to tell Jass the truth.

  Looking up, he saw her silent tears. “You, crying, LaRae? Miss Party Girl, herself, with feelings? Has it really soaked in that your fun has cost someone her life this time?”

  “I know. I’m sorry, Jass. I’m so sorry.” She couldn’t face the anger and pain in his face. She turned away, hugging her broken right arm with the left one, as though to shield herself from his anger.

  “Yeah. I’m sorry, too.” His tone softened and he came over, put his arm around her shoulders and kissed her forehead awkwardly. “Everything will be all right. Get some rest, Honey. I have to go back to Minneapolis for a meeting with an important new client. And I have the funeral arrangements to make. I’ll be back to bring you home, okay, Honey?”

  She met his eyes and nodded. With a little smile, he strode from the room.

  Laurie wept for a long time. He thought she was his wife, yet he’d made little attempt to hold her or comfort her. He hadn’t because he’d known he shouldn’t hug her with cracked ribs, because it would be painful for her, she tried to reassure herself. But he hadn’t even given her a proper kiss.

  A horrible thought struck her. He blamed her for Laurie’s death. If he could hate his wife for the death of a woman whom he’d hardly known, how much more would he hate her, Laurie, when he found out she was the one he should blame, and it was his own wife and Susie’s mother who was dead?

  Chapter 3

  Refusing the sleep medication, she slept fitfully.

  She had a cream soup and fruit gelatin for lunch and still Jass hadn’t come back. Three o’clock came and went.

  Mary came back on duty, and brought her LaRae’s purse and suitcase full of clothes that Jass had evidently gotten from her apartment. It didn’t matter, since their tastes were so similar that most of LaRae’s clothes were the same as her own. And of course, they’d always been the same size, however much LaRae had claimed to need to lose five pounds.

  Laurie realized Jass must have been given her purse and gone through it to get her keys. She flushed at the idea of him going to her apartment.

  “Here, let me help you,” Mary said. She picked up a pink, lacy nightgown.
"Oh, this is lovely!" She eased it over the cast, then slid one arm into the matching bed jacket. “We’ll just drape the other side over your cast. See, it’ll be okay. Anything is better than that white cotton hospital gown.”

  Laurie nodded and smiled at the dark-haired nurse.

  “By the way, I met your husband. I was down at the desk when he was filling out your insurance papers. He’s quite a handsome guy, isn’t he?”

  Laurie laughed ruefully. Yes, all the women thought Jass was terrific, including herself when he’d been married to her own sister! She shuddered, pain sliding through her as she remembered his contemptuous attitude toward her. Could she ever redeem herself with him after this?

  “I’ll be back later,” Jass had said. Laurie dreaded his return, yet knew they had to talk soon. This couldn’t go on. The longer she waited, the harder it would be to tell him that LaRae was the one who had died in the accident, not her.

  Mary left.

  Laurie was about to go back to sleep when she heard footsteps and her former boyfriend, Wesley, walked in.

  She sat up and stared at him in surprise as he stopped beside her bed. How had he known she was here? Oh, oh. The gig is up. He knows I'm Laurie and will expose me now.

  But how dare he show up here after the way they’d broken up yesterday? Was it only yesterday? The man really had a colossal gall along with his oversized ego.

  “Hello, Mrs. Markham,” he said. “I’m Wesley Miller, the surgeon who repaired the cut on your face.”

  Laurie could only sigh and nod in relief at his calling her ‘Mrs. Markham.’ He was only making a professional call. Let him think she was LaRae. It was easier than dealing with him as an ex-lover. He was one of the best plastic surgeons in the area. If anyone could make her presentable for the camera again, he could. After all, modeling was all she knew.

  “I knew your sister. I’m sorry about your loss.”