The Third Twin. Dani Sinclair

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СКАЧАТЬ R.J. said. “The crew is scheduled to start work on your driveway the day after tomorrow. I hope Wyatt will let me know whether I should cancel the gravel delivery. I hate to have to reschedule with those people, but I guess that’s going to depend on the cops. We’re out of sight of the gate. You can get up now.”

      “Think so?” she asked wryly as the truck’s front wheel hit a rut deep enough to swallow a lesser vehicle.

      “Sorry,” he repeated.

      As she climbed back onto the seat, Alexis found herself riding beneath a canopy of old trees whose limbs stretched to obscure the sky. This was a driveway? It meandered more like a road. Alexis had to stifle a gasp of shock as Heartskeep appeared around a bend. This was Leigh’s idea of a house?

      Only the very wealthy would call a massive structure like this a home. The building rose against the sky, silent, defiant, eerie. In the section of New Jersey where she’d grown up, a place this size would qualify as a hotel.

      R.J. pulled into the circular driveway, already filled with state police cruisers and other vehicles. One wing of the building appeared to be undergoing major renovations. Judging by the heap of rubble piled inside an enormous Dumpster container, fire had struck Heartskeep as well as that building in town. A shiver of apprehension traveled down her spine.

      “This should only take me a minute or so,” R.J. told her.

      Wyatt had already stepped out of his car. Lucky gave a happy woof and leaped down to join him. Alexis opened her door. Wyatt came toward her with an inscrutable expression. His hands went to her waist and he lifted her clear of the truck without effort.

      Her heart hammered recklessly at the intimate touch. He set her down and her hands slid along his shoulders in an unanticipated caress. Her skirt had ridden up her thighs once more. Feeling the heat scalding her cheeks, she smoothed it back into place, grateful to have a reason to look away from those knowing eyes.

      R.J. came up behind them and Wyatt turned.

      “Get what you need,” Wyatt told his friend. “If anyone says anything, tell them to see me.”

      R.J. frowned. It was obvious he wanted to say something. He looked from Wyatt to her and then shrugged. With casual thanks, he mounted the porch steps and disappeared inside the house, Lucky at his heels.

      Wyatt turned back to face her. Alexis found herself wishing she didn’t find him so fascinating. He wasn’t doing a thing to exert this sensual pull, yet it was there between them all the same.

      “I owe you an apology,” he said without preamble. “I want to help you, Leigh. If you’ll let me.”

      For one crazy, reckless instant, she was once more tempted to hand him the briefcase and to tell him everything. The relief would be exhilarating.

      He pulled a pen and notebook from his pocket. Scrawling something on one of the pages, he tore it off and handed it to her.

      “That’s my cell phone number. It’s always on. Call me when you’re ready to talk.”

      Her chest was so tight with suppressed emotions, Alexis thought she might explode. Watching him stride up the sagging porch steps and into the house, she wondered if she’d just made a terrible mistake by not telling him the truth. Then she noticed the uniformed officer leaning against the railing near a corner of the house. He’d been watching the exchange with interest and now eyed her curiously. Alexis made a snap decision.

      “Excuse me, could you help me get something out of the back of the truck?”

      Seconds later, the heavy briefcase in hand, she strode through the front door as if she owned the place. And came to a dead halt. Her entire apartment would fit inside the massive marble foyer. She’d never seen anything like this.

      A grand piano sat beneath a wide, open staircase. Beyond that was the largest living room she had ever seen—big enough to be a hotel lobby, and about as inviting, despite the expensive-looking furniture. Almost completely open on three sides, the room seemed to stretch forever in all directions. Marble pillars supported a balcony that wrapped around the entire room. There was no ceiling. The room stretched upward like some dark wooden tunnel that peaked at two enormous skylights on the roof far overhead.

      To her left was the roped-off area where construction had been started. To her right, one of a pair of double doors stood open to reveal what appeared to be a library. A fireplace stood against the far wall. The rest of the room was filled with books resting on floor-to-ceiling bookcases.

      A flutter of excitement sent her moving in that direction. The answers to all her questions must be here, somewhere inside this vast house.

      The library was spacious, as well, but in here at least there was a welcoming feel. She realized that the library connected with another room. Curious, she crossed to the partially open door and peered inside. An office this time, with a bank of computer equipment lining one wall. A comfortable-looking leather couch, several chairs and an absolutely gorgeous walnut desk didn’t clutter the space at all. There were more bookcases here, as if it were a continuation of the library.

      The proportions of the rooms were astounding. The house could have been designed for giants.

      Leigh crossed to the desk and set the briefcase on the floor behind it. Her heart pounded with excitement. There were two more doors. One led back out to the hall, the other revealed a spacious bathroom with an exit into the hall. She closed all three doors, not wanting to be caught snooping.

      Several framed photographs sat on the bookshelves. Alexis crossed to examine them and her lungs forgot how to breathe. Even though she’d begun to suspect as much, coming face-to-face with her own features filled her with so many conflicting emotions that all she could do was stand there and shake.

      There was no way to tell how long ago the first picture had been taken, but at a guess, the two women were about sixteen. Despite the age difference between them, they didn’t merely look like her—they looked exactly like her. Only their hairstyle was different.

      In the picture their honey-brown hair hung halfway down their backs. Alexis had never worn her hair that long. Her mother always claimed long hair was too much trouble. She’d convinced Alexis to cut hers whenever it started to grow long.

      Hair length aside, these women smiled for the camera with her smile. They stared into the lens with her eyes. Not cousins or aunts. Leigh and Hayley Thomas looked identical to her in every way.

      “Oh, here you are,” R.J. said.

      Startled, she hastily set the photo down.

      “I’ll be ready to go in a minute,” he said. “Wyatt says the state police expect to be finished with the house this afternoon. Do you want me to have my crew back out here tomorrow?”

      “I guess so,” she responded nervously. “As long as it’s all right with the police.”

      “Okay, I just need to load the generator into the back of the truck and we’ll be all set.”

      “I’m going to stay here.”

      “Um, Leigh, I don’t think they’ll let you.”

      She faced him squarely. “I’m not going to ask permission.”

      “Oh.”

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