VEILED MIRROR Page 4

  What was she going to do?

  She knew, but her mind shied away from it.

  Arrange a funeral. Say goodbye. Again. She knew how to do that. She’d found a way to let her mother go, despite the lack of services. She’d planned the funeral of their father five years ago when he’d given up. Now she had to say goodbye to Ellie.

  She couldn’t do it. She wouldn’t. How did you say that to someone who had been part of you from the moment you took your first breath? From before that?

  She didn’t want to think about it. About being alone. She didn’t want to think about anything. The rain pattered around her, on the plants and rocks torn by the rolling truck. Drops pummeled Beth’s face and body, splatting on her sodden clothes and hair.

  At least she’s not grieving anymore. They’re together.

  Ellie’s wedding ring twisted under Beth’s thumb. The heirloom had a heart-shaped ruby set in a gold band carved with twining vines. They loved each other so much. It was so wrong that they were dead. Dead before they could watch their love grow. Dead before their baby was born. Dead before they could grow old together.

  It was wrong.

  Beth wrapped her arms around herself and stared into the rain. What could set this right?

  She’d promised Ellie she would find out what had happened to Chris.

  How the hell was she going to do that, now that she was alone? She and Ell might have been able to do it together. Ell had the Pontifore name to back her up. Who’s going to listen to Beth Hart? What can I do?

  Cold certainty shocked her mind into stillness. There was only one way she could get access to the things she’d need.

  She acted before she had time to reconsider. She and Ell always kept their promises to each other. She wasn’t going to change that now. Beth gently twisted the ring off her twin’s flaccid hand. It looked strangely bare.

  I’m sorry, Ellie. Feeling like she was stepping where she had no right to go, Beth pushed the band onto her own finger. It felt heavy and unfamiliar.

  She dug the phone out of her bag, flipped it open, punched the buttons.

  “9-1-1. What is the nature of your emergency?”

  “This is Eleanor Pontifore,” Beth said. “There’s been an accident.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  The elevator dinged as the doors opened. Jason Blackforth stepped out onto the ninth floor of Austin’s Federal building and strode down the hallway to the FBI offices that were home to the fraud and extortion squad.

  “Hey Jase! Good to see you! You back for good now?” Bill North, one of his team, paused on his way to the men’s room to shake his hand and slap him on the shoulder.

  Jason stifled a wince as a jolt of pain ricocheted through his chest. A month ago that friendly slap would have brought him to his knees. “I hope so. The doc cleared me for light duty.” He waved an envelope full of papers. “It’s up to Renton, though.”

  Bill grimaced. “Maybe having you here will cheer him up. The ATF’s trying to poach your case.”

  “The ATF?”

  “Yeah. Listen, I gotta go. I’ll let him tell you.”

  Jason made his way into the office, accepting and returning the greetings of his co-workers. It felt strange after being gone for over three months, as though a subtle rhythm had somehow changed.

  He rapped on Renton’s open door.

  “Blackforth! Come in, come in.” His supervisor shook his hand and gestured him into a seat. “How’s the P.T. going?”

  “I’m doing so well the Marquis cut the torture sessions down to once a week.”

  “Does that mean you’re ready to come back?”

  “If you’ll have me.” He gave Renton his medical clearance and sat down normally. His shoulder only screamed a little. “I’m only cleared for light duty, unfortunately. No fieldwork yet.”

  “Give it time. You were pretty torn up.”

  That was an understatement. The bullet had gone in his shoulder and ricocheted through his torso. His left lung had collapsed but the bullet had stopped short of shredding his aorta. He’d been damned lucky.

  Time slowed as Jason heard the percussive shock of weapons fire. The guard in his sights didn’t drop his gun when Jason yelled, “FBI!” Jason hadn’t expected him to.

  Jason pulled off two rounds. Red blossomed on the man’s chest, but Jason barely noticed because he was moving, rolling under the conference room table. Distantly he heard Garcia whimpering. Peters was on the floor, a neat hole in his forehead. Suddenly two more guards were there—

  “Jase?” Renton’s brow was furrowed.

  Damn it. Jason gripped the arms of his chair. He hardly had the flashbacks at all anymore. Why’d he have to have one now? He pulled his attention back to the present and changed the subject. “I hear the ATF is giving us some grief?” He didn’t want to talk about how close he’d come to losing his life—he’d done enough of that with the Bureau’s shrink. He’d finally convinced his mother he was going to live, he didn’t want his squad leader dwelling on it too.

  Renton gave him a sharp look. “You do keep your ear to the ground, don’t you?” Tapping the envelope he asked. “How’s the counseling?”

  Jason hid his irritation. He knew Renton had been given regular reports on his progress. If there was something that concerned the man, why didn’t he come right out and say it? But all Jason said was, “The shrink cleared me too.” The flashbacks only lasted a few seconds, and he hadn’t had a nightmare in over three weeks.

  “That’s good to hear.” Renton shook his head. “As for the ATF, I’m sorry about keeping you in the dark. I didn’t think you needed to be worrying about this shit while you were flat on your back, and the higher-ups wanted to keep it quiet. But now that you’re here you might as well know: it’s not just ATF, the CIA wants a piece of this too.”

  “It’s my case!”

  “It’s our case. But there’s enough to go around.”

  Maybe. Homeland Security was riding them all hard and the Russian was probably selling weapons to terrorists. “They think they can flip Babinevich?”

  “Yeah. The ATF wants the arms dealers he was buying from, and the CIA wants his customers. They can have them. But we’re not giving them Babinevich so they can wheel and deal. Not after he damn near killed one of my agents.” Renton took a deep settling breath. “Which brings us back to you.”

  Jason waited.

  “You know I could refuse your return until you’re a hundred percent.”

  “I know.” Jason held his breath. He needed to get back to work. The History channel wasn’t too bad, but he’d already learned all he wanted to about the Civil War and the Kennedy assassination.

  “There’s no rush. Your place on the team is secure. You can take more time if you need it.”

  “That’s good to know. But I’d really like to get back to work.”

  Renton pressed his lips together as if he were disgusted, but his eyes were smiling. “I don’t suppose you can get into too much trouble on desk duty.” He stood up and held out his hand. “Welcome back,” he said as they shook. Then he shoved a stack of files at Jason with an evil grin. “Get started on these background checks, will you?”

  “Thanks.” Jason gave Renton a mock grimace and left the squad leader’s office, arms full. He never thought he’d be grateful to be doing grunt work.

  Jason made his way to his desk. It was unnaturally clean. I’ll change that soon enough, he thought as he dumped the files and sat down.

  He checked his voice mail. He didn’t expect to hear anything important, but it was routine and it put off having to start the background checks for thirty seconds.

  He deleted a couple of mass notifications of meetings that had already taken place, then checked his masked mailbox, the one that didn’t announce to the caller that they’d phoned the FBI. And then he heard Beth’s voice.

  Jason sat up a little straighter. Beth Hart. The memory of her petite, athletic body astride his slammed into him. Her honey colored ha
ir had rippled like a river of silk over his hands as he stroked her breasts, and her chocolate eyes had warmed with the heat of her pleasure.

  And later they had brimmed with stubbornly unshed tears. It had been nearly four months since they’d spoken. Four months since he’d put those tears in her eyes. He’d never thought to hear from her again.

  “ … Call me, please.”

  He replayed the message. Maybe he should call her. He missed those long conversations that they’d had. What had they talked about? Everything, it seemed. Anything. He’d loved hearing the passion in her voice when she talked about the animals she cared for. And she almost always had a story that made him laugh. He knew first hand, now, that life was too short to let something that good slip away.

  I should call her. Just to say hello.

  But it wasn’t a good idea. It wouldn’t do either one of them any good to open that up again.

  He’d gone to Las Cruces because emailing, texting, and talking on the phone just hadn’t been enough. He’d had to see her. Touch her. Make love to her, he hoped. And it had been great. Better than great.

  But then she’d reminded him of how rocky her childhood had been.

  She’d tried to make light of it, but he knew how much she needed stability, craved it, and he couldn’t give that to her. He couldn’t make her go through all the uncertainty and wondering that went with dating an undercover agent. His previous girlfriend hadn’t been able to handle his job either.

  He’d broken up with Beth because his job was too uncertain, too dangerous. And he’d been right. He’d been shot less than three weeks after they’d said goodbye.

  She hadn’t called once since then. Why is she calling now?

  He pushed the button to resume reviewing his messages.

  Beth again. Saying … what? Chris was dead?

  Had someone just struck him in the head with a hammer? Was he hallucinating again?

  He replayed the message, heard the distress in Beth’s voice. It didn’t seem any more real the second time.

  No. It’s not possible. Not Chris. He’d just talked to him last week. Chris was a year younger than he was. He wasn’t the one with a dangerous job. And what was that about murder?

  He played it again, but the words were the same. He felt like he’d been kicked in the gut.

  He hadn’t seen Chris for seven months. Chris had emailed him with pictures when they’d returned from the honeymoon, and they’d had that one strange conversation last week, but otherwise they hadn’t talked since the wedding.

  Chris had found the Pontifore name a mixed blessing in college. Handsome and rich, women had always hovered nearby. Jason hadn’t minded consoling the also-rans. But Ellie hadn’t cared who Chris was when they met last year at the horse farm where she worked in Flagstaff, and it hadn’t taken Chris long to decide that Ellie was the woman for him.

  “Oh God, poor Ellie!” She’d be facing all the Pontifore estate crap alone.

  He walked back into Renton’s office with barely a quick rap to cover courtesy. “I’ve changed my mind. I need that extra time, after all. I’ll be in Jimson Weed, Arizona.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  You really should go to the hospital and get checked out, Mrs. Pontifore.” The paramedic unwrapped the blood pressure cuff from her arm. The rain had stopped, leaving the summer air slightly cooler, but thick with humidity.

  Beth shook her head. Or tried to. She still had a cervical collar wrapped around her neck. She couldn’t go to the emergency room. They’d find out she wasn’t pregnant, that she’d never been pregnant. And then they would question who she was. She didn’t trust doctor-patient confidentiality enough to keep that secret. “No. Thank you, but no. I’d rather see my own doctor.”

  The paramedic frowned. “All right then. I’ll need you to sign this release, saying you refused transport.”

  Beth signed the proffered form.

  “You really ought to go to the hospital, Ellie.”

  Beth looked up to see the sheriff’s deputy—what was his name?—Toby, that was it—looming over her.

  “I’m okay, Toby. I just want to go home.”

  “I’ll take you then, but I have to ask you some questions on the way.”

  “Fine. Whatever.”

  The paramedic held her arm, guiding Beth into the rigid frame stretcher.

  “Can’t I just climb the hill with a harness?” She was afraid if she let them strap her into that basket they might just whisk her off to the emergency room regardless of what she said.

  “No, ma’am. We can’t let you aggravate a possible spinal injury while in our care. What you do after that is up to you.” He clearly thought she was being foolish.

  Beth got in and her rescuers secured her. It bothered her to hear the men grunting with effort on her behalf, but a few minutes later she was at the top of the slope.

  The paramedic paused before unstrapping her. “You sure you won’t let us take you to the hospital?”

  Beth beat back a little surge of panic. “I’m sure.”

  The man shrugged and set her free.

  Toby helped her into his SUV. Her muscles groaned as she eased into the front seat. “I’m going to be sore tomorrow, I can tell.”

  “Yep. That seat belt is going to leave one hell of a bruise,” Toby agreed. “But it’s a good thing you had it on. I’m glad you finally started wearing one,” he added more gently.

  Apparently Ell’s dislike of restraints was common knowledge. Beth nearly choked on her anger. Why couldn’t she have fastened her damn seat belt? She’d known better. Their mom hadn’t worn one either, but that hadn’t mattered to Ell. She’d never liked the feeling of being confined.

  Somehow Beth managed to answer, “Well, I have more than just myself to think about now.”

  Toby nodded, apparently convinced by that logic. He pulled carefully onto the dirt road. After a minute he cleared his throat. “I’m real sorry about Beth, Ellie.”

  Beth swallowed hard and shivered. It felt creepy accepting condolences for her own death. For a second she wanted to shout, I’m not dead! I’m alive! It’s Ellie who’s dead. Ellie is gone and I’m all alone! But she took a deep breath and said, “Thank you,” in a soft voice.

  “Where do you want her remains to go once the autopsy is done?”

  “Autopsy?” A wave of panic washed over Beth. An autopsy would reveal Ell’s pregnancy. “Isn’t the cause of death pretty obvious?”

  “It’s standard procedure.”

  “Oh. Uh, the same place they took Chris, I guess.” It wasn’t possible she was talking about burying her sister. The image of Ell’s mangled body rose before her. She felt sick. She didn’t want to think of her that way. She wanted to remember her twin the way she she’d always been: vivacious, athletic, alive.

  Beth saw the time displayed in the dashboard. Was it really less than two hours ago that they’d driven out of the yard? She remembered how the feistiness had come back into her sister’s eyes when she’d talked about finding Chris’s murderer. She’d been scared to think Ell might be losing it, and felt guilty for encouraging her, just so her twin would act alive again.

  If she hadn’t said she’d go with Ell, would her sister still be alive? Or would she have gone anyway, and died alone?

  “So who was driving?” Toby asked.

  “What?” She had to focus.

  “Who was driving?”

  Beth looked at him. She had to think like Ell. “I already told you. She was.” Did he suspect her of lying?

  Toby nodded, unfazed by the irritation in her voice. “I guess she was taking the turn a little too fast, the way you like to. Is that what happened? She wasn’t familiar with the road and the truck got away from her?”

  He was trying to make this easier for her. For Ellie. She wished she could let him do that. That she could let this be simple and accept his sympathy. But she couldn’t, not if she wanted to find Ell’s killer. Assuming there was a killer. No, I can’t think like that. I
have to think like Ellie if I want to be convincing. I have to be Ellie.

  “It didn’t get away from her. The tire blew. I think someone tried to kill us, and make it look like an accident. Just like Chris.”

  Toby cast a frown at her then turned his eyes back to the road. “The medical examiner said Chris—”

  “That was only a preliminary report!”

  Toby remained silent and continued driving.

  “Okay, what about what just happened to me and … Beth?”

  “What about it?”

  “Those tires were brand new! There’s no way one of them would have blown like that.”

  “Tires blow all the time, Ellie. Maybe it had a defect. Maybe there was something in the road you didn’t see. It was just bad luck that Beth was going too fast on a curve when it happened. You know that saying, ‘when you hear hoof beats’ … ?”

  Think horses, not zebras. He was probably right, but she’d promised Ellie. “So you won’t even look into it?”

  “We’ll examine all the relevant evidence before we draw any conclusions. Don’t worry. We’ll do our job.” Toby’s tone carried that good ole boy, don’t worry your pretty little hysterical head tone. They might investigate, but they wouldn’t be aggressive about it.

  Ellie was right. If she was going to get answers, she’d have to find them herself.

  The hands in the training corral looked up with interest as the sheriff’s vehicle drove into the yard. Ollie came racing into the yard, barking. Oh God! What was I thinking? I’m going to have to fool all of these people. People whose names I barely know. Mack, the foreman, came over as she climbed down from the SUV, his sun-bleached brows drawn down in a concerned frown. He’d watched Ellie drive out less than two hours ago, with Beth in the passenger seat. Ollie stopped his careening and sat in front of Beth as she gave him a hand signal. Beth reached down and buried one hand in the silky black and white coat, grateful for the solid warmth of him.

  “There’s been an accident,” Toby said.