Chapter 7 #2
Melissa’s eyes widened. She looked from Bree to Avery and back to Bree, her eyes narrowing. “What the hell?”
“That’s what I said when I arrived today and learned someone else had been acting in my stead.” She nodded toward Bree.
Melissa shook her head. “But you got here three days ago.” She stared at Bree, then back at Avery. “My God, you two look like mirror images.”
The sheriff’s thick eyebrows formed a V over his nose. “Which one of you is the real Agent Hart?”
Bree Lansing’s lips quirked.
Avery answered, “I am.” She pointed to Bree and said, “She’s been here the last few days, pretending to be me.”
“Can we take this discussion inside?” Bree said. “I’ll tell you everything I know.”
Melissa and Sheriff Taylor stood still, as if they didn’t know who or what to believe.
For a moment, Avery thought they’d accuse her of lying about being the real FBI agent. Bree Lansing had made a convincing show of being her.
Grant stepped forward, gripped Bree’s arm and said, “We’re going inside. I want to hear what she has to say.”
Avery followed Grant and Bree. Agent Bradley and the sheriff trailed behind her.
The evening dinner crowd had gone home, leaving only the patrons interested in drinking and watching sports on the televisions mounted strategically over the bar and in the corners.
Grant marched Bree to a table on the far side of the bar and grill.
The woman pulled out a seat and sank onto it.
Avery sat across the table from her, Grant sat to Avery’s right, between the two women.
Melissa sat on Avery’s other side, and the sheriff took the seat on the other side of Bree.
“Somebody show me some credentials,” Melissa demanded, her eyes steely. “Now.”
Bree glanced across the table at Avery, cocking an eyebrow.
Avery’s cheeks reddened. “I can’t,” she said.
“What do you mean you can’t?” Melissa shook her head and faced Bree. “If you’re the real Agent Hart, you can show me your FBI credentials.”
Bree shrugged. “I’m not the real Agent Hart. I’m not working for the FBI, and I don’t have credentials, as I’ve never worked for the FBI.” She pointed toward Avery. “She’s the FBI agent. I just filled in since everyone assumed I was her.”
Melissa sat back in her seat, her eyes wide. “You realize impersonating a federal officer is—”
“A felony,” Bree nodded. “I know, but your agent didn’t show, you thought I was the agent and you had a murder to solve.”
Melissa pushed a hand through her hair and then pointed at Avery. “Agent Hart?”
Avery nodded.
“If you only got here today, where have you been?”
Avery shot a glance toward Grant. “I was in an accident. I didn’t wake up until yesterday. They released me from the hospital in Waco this morning. I came straight to Shadow Valley.”
“Sweet Jesus, why didn’t you call and let someone know?”
“My car was swept away in a flash flood with my phone, credentials and my wallet. All I could remember was that I needed to get to Shadow Valley.” She glanced toward Grant. “And let me be completely transparent…”
Melissa waved a hand. “Please.”
“Grant Hayes is my...was my...husband. He did work with the FBI as a profiler. He no longer works for the FBI. He works for the Brotherhood Protectors in Montana. When I woke, he was the only name and phone number I could immediately recall. They phoned him. He came and brought me here, since I no longer have a vehicle.”
Melissa’s brow dipped. “Should you even be working?”
Avery lifted her chin. “Absolutely.”
“If you had issues with memory, you’ve obviously had a head injury. Shouldn’t you be resting and still under the supervision of a doctor?”
“The doctor released me,” Avery said, not adding that the doctor had suggested she rest and take it easy. “We have a serial killer in the area. I’m here to do what I can to stop him.”
“As am I,” Bree Lansing said.
Melissa turned to Bree and pinned her with a glare. “Zip it. I’ll get to you soon enough.” She turned back to Avery. “I’m not convinced you’re up to this assignment.”
Avery sat up straighter. “I’m well enough to pursue the murderer. And we need all hands on deck to find him and bring him in.”
“I agree with Agent Hart,” Bree said.
Melissa held up one finger, her lips pressing together in a straight line. Her eyes narrowed as she focused on Avery. “You were in the office after this one left this morning, weren’t you?”
The sheriff leaned forward. “I thought you were acting funny when you came back in after just leaving.” His brow furrowed.
“And you left wearing a ball cap and came back in with your hair down. The Agent Hart we’d been working with wore a ball cap every day.
” He shook his head and gave Bree Lansing the stink eye. “You had us all fooled.”
Bree shrugged. “I was only going along with what you thought. I want to catch the killer as much as you do.”
“Okay, Ms. Lansing, was it?” Melissa started. “Spill it. Who are you? Why the hell are you here? Who sent you?”
“Bree Lansing. Detective for the Omaha Police Department. I came to Shadow Valley to pursue a DNA match I found on an ancestry database.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me. That’s no reason to assume the identity of an FBI agent.” Melissa smacked her hands onto the table. “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t arrest you for impersonating a federal officer?”
Bree met Melissa’s gaze and held it. “Because I believe the DNA match I found was a setup to bring me to this area by the serial killer.”
“Why do you think the serial killer would lure you here with a DNA challenge?” Avery asked.
Bree sighed. “It’s a long story.”
“We don’t have much time,” Avery said. “Could you give us the short version?”
The woman nodded. “I didn’t know I was adopted until last year, when my mother was diagnosed with stage four cancer.
She didn’t want to die without me knowing how much she loved me and that I was adopted.
Her type of cancer could be hereditary. She didn’t want me to think I could get it because she’d passed the gene down to me.
As a final birthday present, she gave me one of those DNA tests that taps into ancestry databases and told me I could look for my biological mother.
..or not. She hadn’t told me about being adopted because she never wanted me to know I’d been abandoned.
She and my father had loved me from the day they brought me home at what child services estimated was one month old. ”
“And what did your DNA testing result show?” Avery asked.
“I found a match with what the registry considers close enough to be a parent. Someone who lived in Shadow Valley, Texas.”
“How old are you, Ms. Lansing?” Avery asked, suddenly feeling lightheaded.
“Thirty-four,” Bree said.
An intense ache spread through Avery’s chest. “I was adopted as well, but my mother let me know as soon as I turned eighteen. She said she’d always love me as much as any mother who’d given birth to her children.
But she’d understand if I needed to search for any blood relatives.
I didn’t look for relatives because I had everything I wanted and needed in my adoptive mother and father.
Still, I always wondered if I had siblings somewhere.
It was like I was...” Avery shook her head, the right words escaping her.
Bree touched her arm. “As if you were missing a part of you?”
Avery’s world tilted, the blur of her life coming into sharp focus as if for the first time. She let out a shaky breath. “Yes.”
“So, you never went back and checked your adoption file?” Bree asked.
“No.” Avery’s eyes narrowed. “But now I’m curious.” She turned to Grant. “Do you think your man, Swede, can hack into an adoption database and search for my records?”
Grant nodded. “If it’s stored online, he can find his way in.”
“I was adopted and raised in Kansas City, Missouri.”
Grant keyed the information into a text and sent it to Swede. A moment later, his phone pinged with an incoming text. “Swede’s on it and will get back with whatever information he finds.”
Melissa shook her head. “You two could be twins. I mean, I completely mistook her,” she pointed to Bree, “for you.” She stared at Avery. “That’s cool and creepy all at once. Especially when you add the fact that the three victims all resemble you.”
“Who is the killer targeting in this scenario?” The sheriff frowned. “Agent Hart or Detective Lansing?”
Grant reached for Avery’s hand. “I get the feeling, it’s both.”
Avery had that same feeling. She reached for the necklace she’d worn all her life, the familiar metal between her fingers, grounding her when life was at its most difficult.
Bree’s brow dipped, and she leaned forward. “What’s that?”
Avery pulled the metal disk out far enough to show her. “It’s my necklace. I’ve had it as long as I can remember. Why?”
Bree reached inside her shirt and pulled out a matching silver necklace. “My mother told me I came to her with this necklace. It’s the reason she named me Bree. You see, mine is engraved with the letter B.”
Avery felt the blood drain from her face. “I always thought my adoptive mother gave it to me after naming me Avery. Mine has the letter A.”
They had matching necklaces. They looked like mirror images of each other.
The truth slammed into Avery, making her entire body quiver with the realization.
This woman had to be her twin.