Dead Ringer by Annie Solomon Read Free Book Online Page A

needed it least, her courage deserted her. He cleared his throat, reaching for gentleness and half succeeding.
    "It's just a briefing, Angel. Nothing more. There's another agent waiting inside with slides and pictures."
    She licked her lips. "Don't you have an office?"
    "I don't want anyone connecting you with a government agency. I picked this place because it was out of the way. That's all."
    He gave her a small, encouraging smile, and her shoulders straightened imperceptibly. He could almost see her force the fear away, covering it up with her usual mask of hard cynicism.
    He didn't know whether to admire her or feel sorry for her. He knew a thing or two about covering up, so he held out a hand to help her out, but she swung her feet around and got out by herself. "I don't need an escort."
    Fine. Go it alone. The less she leaned on him the better. He slammed the door on his tender impulse and stepped aside to let her pass.
    Angelina shook off the pity she'd seen in Finn's face. Who was he to feel sorry for her? Besides, he couldn't know how she felt about places like this-or why.
    For half a second she hesitated on the threshold, then took a breath and plunged into the motel room. Inside, it was everything she expected, a lumpy bed, a wobbly chair, a scratched table. But unlike the rest of the room, which looked like a remnant from the sixties, the table held twenty-first-century tools: an open laptop computer with an attachment the size of a small video camera.
    As promised, another man was waiting for them, a young, beefy blond with a buzz-cut and nice-guy brown eyes. "Hey, Carver, where you been?'
    "Escorting our secret weapon around town." Finn nodded in her direction. "Jack, meet Angelina Mercer. Angelina, Agent Jack Saunders."
    Agent Saunders? Not exactly the Terrorism Control Force uniform here. Unlike Sharkman, who was sewed up neat and tight in his federal grays, this one wore a vintage shirt that looked like it had barely survived Pearl Harbor. Complete with palm trees, pelicans, and pineappies, it hong loose over a pair of slept-in khakis. She liked him immediately.
    Jack extended his hand and shook hers. "Glad you decided to help us out."
    "Looks like you're the only one." At the confusion on his face, she shook her head. "Never mind," She glanced around the second-rate room and the third-rate setup, trying to distance herself from the memories. "You're kidding. This is the best the mighty TCF can do?"
    The other man grinned. "Government work is so glamorous."
    But Finn remained cool and aloof. "Like I said, you're safer in a neutral setting."
    "Well, you got beige down pat."
    Saunders laughed, but Finn only hit the lights. "Let's
    go." Agent Saunders tapped a few keys on the laptop, and the attachment whirred on, illuminating the opposite wall. Into the beam of light a photograph appeared showing four women around a luncheon table. Her mother was in the middle wearing a severe navy suit. Slowly, Angelina sank on the edge of the bed and peered at the picture, drinking in the image.
    Her mother. Come to life in a photograph. Angelina could hardly breathe.
    "Become familiar with her smile, the way she holds her head. The closer you can come to duplicating her expressions, the easier your job will be."
    What were you like, Mother? Carol looked happier here than in the snapshot Finn had showed her earlier, more relaxed. What lay behind that angelic smile?
    Another keystroke, and another photo appeared. This time, Carol was arm in arm with another woman.
    "That's the sister."
    Aunt Marian. What stories could she tell? Had the sisters been friends? Had they giggled and shared confidences, or fought all the time? All at once, Angelina had a family. Her breath caught, her body went cold, then hot. The realization was almost too much to take in.
    Marian had small dark eyes pinched close together. Carol was clearly the beauty. She smiled into the camera, dewy and fresh-faced, like a commercial for Ivory soap. Even in her