1. Collins #2
“Say, you look like that kid on the news?” She pointed to the screen across from her.
There I was, on the screen. The photo had been taken the first day of college outside my dorm.
Wisps of my sandy blonde hair floated in the air as a gust of wind cut through the campus.
The smile on my face said everything as I’d made a peace symbol for the photo my mother took.
I’d been so happy back then. Excited for all the discoveries I’d make on my own.
Nothing from my past me was left though.
Not even my smile. Now, I was afraid of what was to come, instead of embracing it.
“Doppelg?nger,” I muttered.
The woman frowned. “What?”
“You know when people look like you.” I blew out a breath. “Never mind. Thanks for the food.” I pushed away from the counter, trying to read the closed caption while walking. It appeared the police were officially declaring Kyle and me dead. I didn’t know how I felt about that.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” Kyle joined me at the door while I continued to read what the reporter said. Though they officially declared us dead, they were still hoping to have someone step forward with information.
My stomach turned. “Let’s go.” I pushed out of the store and climbed into our shitty car, that sometimes doubled as our home and started the beast up. “We’re officially dead now.”
“Well, that sucks,” Kyle murmured. “You’d think they’d try a little harder to find us.”
I didn’t know whether to agree or disagree with him.
It was peculiar though how those men—whoever they were—kept finding us, but police couldn’t.
The only time I’d been recognized was by the cashier inside the service plaza.
I didn’t like the implication of that. “We need to get on the road.” I tried to calm my jangled nerves.
If Kyle knew how much the woman’s attention affected me, or how I worried she might just be the one to call the cops and report our location, he’d demand I abandoned my job prospect.
He’d want us to start driving and never stop.
No, we needed to do this.
“You don’t look good,” Kyle said, grabbing his latte. “Are you sure you should do this now?”
“Yes.” I flashed him a smile that wasn’t genuine. They never were now. Didn’t feel much like smiling anymore. “Nervous is all. You know, new job prospect.”
“When do you trust me, Stephanie?” The pained, heart-broken expression on his face tore me to shreds. I hated disappointing him.
“I trust you,” I replied. “Besides, we’ve gone over this. My name isn’t Stephanie anymore. I’m Collins and you’re Lucas.”
“Yeah,” he muttered. “I remember.”
“Things are strained. I understand how you feel. We’re both stressed out and both scared.
I really hope this job is the beginning of us being able to find some place to call home.
Just... Just give me some time, okay?” Unshed tears burned the back of my nose.
Every day, I questioned our new reality.
Every day, I wondered if I made the right choices or if I should have done things differently.
I carried our burden on my back because I was the eldest. Responsibility, as my father would say, flowed downhill. First to our parents, then me.
“Do you ever think about why this happened? Like, who hated us so much they killed our father and our mother?” The change in subjects didn’t quail the rising anxiety within me.
We had an hour left to get to Mr. Daidone’s residence, which meant confronting the elephant in the room or continuing to ignore the situation.
I exhaled, changing lanes on the Turnpike. “All the time.” I couldn’t lie to Kyle. Eventually, we’d both have to face the truth.
“Me too.” Kyle glanced out his window. If I expected any more out of him, I didn’t get it. Instead, he ate his pastry and drank his latte in silence.
The quietness gave me time to prepare and shake off the oily feeling of being groped inappropriately, even though physically, no one touched me.
The woman in the service plaza noticed me.
She found me , Stephanie Hollis, hiding in plain sight when so many others hadn’t paid attention.
The paranoia ripping at the back of my mind, no matter how many times I told myself no one paid attention or followed us, continued to eat away at me.
Even checking the rearview mirror did no good.
I couldn’t shake the idea I was being trailed and this grand plan I had would end up backfiring on me as soon as I exited the Turnpike.
Then there were the what ifs, like what if the cashier called the police?
What if she called some news station to say she saw me?
What if she kept the video from the cameras surrounding the business?
Yes, I’d cut my hair and dyed it a wholly unnatural color, but I was supposed to, right?
To survive, I had to hide Kyle and me. I had to do a lot of things we—more specifically me—normally wouldn’t do.
Maybe she’d leave it at my explanation. I could only hope.
Before long, if my paranoia bared fruit, I’d have to ditch this car and ditch our plans.
Which would severely hobble us.
“You’re not being followed,” Kyle said. “I’ve been watching.”
I released a pent up breath and nodded. “Thank you.”
“For what it’s worth, I don’t think anyone was paying too much attention to us.” He slouched into his seat, extending his long legs, reminding me of how our dad would relax in the front seat when mom drove.
“The cashier said I looked like myself,” I muttered. “I freaked out in there.”
Kyle stared at me for a minute. “Well, you are you.” Then laughed. “She’s probably forgotten about you by now. Morning rush and all. Besides, once we’re off the road, how can they find us?”
Well, he had a point. Police, even with videos, were the least of our problems. I was more concerned about whoever killed our parents. They were good. Really fucking good. “You might be on to something.”
“Finally. I have some use.” He smirked, turning on the radio in the car.
I hated the blasted thing. It only worked in ten to fifteen mile spurts before having to change the station because the irritating thing was almost twenty years old.
However, country music seemed the last the longest. Why or how was a mystery to both of us.
It was early enough the morning shows were still going, though.
I thought Kyle would have given up and turn the radio back off.
Instead, another report about our parents popped up.
Police were getting desperate. I understood their need to close the case, but the more they tried to fit a square peg into a round hole, the more they were putting us in harm’s way.
“So, the police had a press conference this morning about the Hollis murders,” the DJ said. “They think the daughter and son are dead.”
“You don’t believe them?” the second DJ asked.
“No. Not at all. Look at the footage from the day of the murder. Her car is parked out front. Someone ransacked the house and there was blood everywhere. I think the daughter is off in the Cayman Islands drinking mojitos and living off mommy and daddy’s money.
” He chuckled. “I mean, how many times have we seen spoiled rich kids pitch fits and in a fit of rage kill their parents or have them killed? Then they cry about it on the stand. Menendez Brothers are a prime example of that.”
“Where’s the brother, then? No one has seen him since that day either.”
“What if they’re not really siblings?” the first guy said. “What if they were having some kind of taboo affair?”
I glanced at Kyle, who made a gagging face.
We were definitely not in some taboo relationship, and neither one of us would ever kill our parents.
See, this was the shit I hated. The more those two idiots spoke, the more my brain dissolved into a pile of useless goo.
“Change the channel. I can’t stomach anymore of this crap. ”
“Is what they said true? So, the news story this morning, what you were watching, was true?” Kyle fiddled with the radio, trying to find something more appropriate to listen to as I merged into the right lane coming to our exit.
“Yes. I just said that. It’s why the cashier freaked me out so bad. The police and investigators are making it official. I don’t know whether I should be relieved or on edge. Maybe whoever is after us will stop chasing us?” Ha, who was I kidding? The only people who knew the truth was us and them.
“Guess we’ll find out soon enough.” Kyle shrugged.
“Indeed.”
We pulled up to the Daidone house about twenty minutes later.
The stone and brick structure was more like a small two-story cottage than some massive behemoth of wealth and prestige.
The driveway was paved and framed by intricate brick and tile inlays.
On either side of the front steps were potted topiary trees, trimmed within an inch of their lives.
Small, black wrought iron fencing kept the bushes around the house uniform and tidy.
Miceli’s home reminded me of ours. Always perfect.
Always manicured. Appearances were everything in society, couldn’t allow a stray leaf to destroy that flawlessness.
I parked close to the door and took a second to prepare myself.
I might have embellished my resume a little.
Padded my qualifications. Gave some fake references I hoped he wouldn’t call.
I could only pray he’d see my outgoing personality and determination and offer me the job right on the spot.
Because there wasn’t an alternative for us.
“Knock his socks off,” Kyle whispered. “I’m going to take a nap while I wait.” He’d been reduced to pirating books and downloading videos off the internet when we had Wi-Fi for our burner phones. Most of the stuff he watched was of such horrible quality, I didn’t know how he could even see it.
“Tonight, we’ll celebrate if I get the job, okay?” I touched his arm. Depending on my salary, we might be able to finally stay somewhere longer than a few weeks. “Wherever you want.”
My brother nodded. “Sure. I’ll find us somewhere close by. You’ve got this.”
He was placating me. He never got his hopes up anymore, and I didn’t blame him. We couldn’t have hopes and dreams. All of those vanished the day our parents were killed. “Okay. I’m off. Hopefully, I won’t be too long.”
The minute I opened the car door, the front door of the house opened, and a woman stood at the entry.
She wore a maid’s uniform and had a prim expression on her face, which soured when she spotted our vehicle.
Yeah, it wasn’t pretty, but rude much? Hadn’t she ever heard of not judging a book by its cover?
“Good morning,” I said, extending my hand in her direction as I drew near. “My name is Collins Attwood. Mr. Daidone’s expecting me.”