Dead Ringers 1: Illusion by Darlene Gardner Read Free Book Online
Authors: Darlene Gardner
to me.”
“You’re twisting things around. I’m here to make sure Adair’s okay.”
“Your non-friend Adair?”
“That’s right.”
“Why wouldn’t she be okay?”
I’m definitely not telling him about clowns snatching people off the street. “You ask a lot of questions. My turn. What are you doing here?”
He hesitates. “Scouting. Deer season starts in a few months. It was on my way so I figured why not?”
“On your way where?”
“Could you stop waving those keys at me like I’m a serial killer?”
His words, not mine. I hadn’t even considered that possibility. I back toward the Honda Fit, keys still set to gash him. I keep my eyes glued to him and feel around with my free hand for the door handle. When the door’s open, I repeat my question. “On your way where?”
Again, he hesitates. “On my way to the beach.”
I don’t believe him. I don’t believe anything he’s said. If I could make out his features in the darkness, he’d probably be smirking.
No matter how long I stand out here, though, he won’t tell me the truth of why he’s here.
“Yeah, right,” I say so he knows I’m not stupid.
I slip inside the car, lock the doors and turn the key in the ignition. The car engine turns over and I back up, making sure my headlights shine on the back of the truck.
It has a North Carolina license plate. I repeat the series of letters and numbers out loud, committing them to memory. If something’s happened to Adair, I can direct the police to a suspect.
The stranger steps into the artificial light where his dark hair and pale skin look even more dramatic.
He blows me a kiss.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The next morning, I pad down the hall barefoot to the bathroom after rousting myself from a restless sleep. I dreamed the clown was chasing me with a syringe. The guy from the coastal forest stood by, arms folded over his chest, waiting to see if I could get away. The prize for escaping was his kiss.
Voices drift from the kitchen. One of them belongs to my mother. The other is as sweet as corn syrup and as high-pitched as a little girl’s. Except it doesn’t belong to a child.
It belongs to Adair.
My blood pumps so hard I won’t even need my morning caffeine fix. Ducking into the bathroom, I splash cold water on my face and run a brush across my teeth. Then I practically sprint toward the kitchen.
“You look great, Mrs. G,” Adair’s voice drifts down the hall. “That suit is like so pretty. When did you say you came back to Midway Beach?”
“A few weeks ago.”
“I can’t believe I didn’t know you were back.”
“I can’t believe how grown-up you are. You’re stunning.”
I reach the archway to the kitchen and pause. My mother sits catty-corner from a too-familiar blonde at the kitchen table, each of them with their hands wrapped around a mug of coffee.
Yep, it’s Adair all right. Guess I won’t be calling the cops to report her missing.
Mom’s head swivels in my direction. “There you are, Jade. I was about to wake you. Adair stopped by to see you. Isn’t that nice?”
“Hey, Jade.” Adair gives me a sunny smile. She’s nearly six feet tall with high cheekbones, a wide mouth and short, dyed blond hair she gels into tufts. In the last year, she’s probably dropped about twenty pounds, making her model thin. Her look is unusual enough look that heads turn when she walks by. This morning she wears short shorts and a cute white top.
I wish I’d taken the time to change from the oversized T-shirt I sleep in. “What the hell are you doing here, Adair?”
“Ja-ade!” My mother makes it sound like my name has two syllables. “There’s no need to be rude.”
My mom doesn’t know about Adair’s betrayal, but it still ticks me off that she’s leaping to her defense. “Adair and I aren’t friends anymore.”
“That’s what I came over to talk about.” Adair sounds sweet and innocent, the way she always does. Not once, in the months since she
“You’re twisting things around. I’m here to make sure Adair’s okay.”
“Your non-friend Adair?”
“That’s right.”
“Why wouldn’t she be okay?”
I’m definitely not telling him about clowns snatching people off the street. “You ask a lot of questions. My turn. What are you doing here?”
He hesitates. “Scouting. Deer season starts in a few months. It was on my way so I figured why not?”
“On your way where?”
“Could you stop waving those keys at me like I’m a serial killer?”
His words, not mine. I hadn’t even considered that possibility. I back toward the Honda Fit, keys still set to gash him. I keep my eyes glued to him and feel around with my free hand for the door handle. When the door’s open, I repeat my question. “On your way where?”
Again, he hesitates. “On my way to the beach.”
I don’t believe him. I don’t believe anything he’s said. If I could make out his features in the darkness, he’d probably be smirking.
No matter how long I stand out here, though, he won’t tell me the truth of why he’s here.
“Yeah, right,” I say so he knows I’m not stupid.
I slip inside the car, lock the doors and turn the key in the ignition. The car engine turns over and I back up, making sure my headlights shine on the back of the truck.
It has a North Carolina license plate. I repeat the series of letters and numbers out loud, committing them to memory. If something’s happened to Adair, I can direct the police to a suspect.
The stranger steps into the artificial light where his dark hair and pale skin look even more dramatic.
He blows me a kiss.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The next morning, I pad down the hall barefoot to the bathroom after rousting myself from a restless sleep. I dreamed the clown was chasing me with a syringe. The guy from the coastal forest stood by, arms folded over his chest, waiting to see if I could get away. The prize for escaping was his kiss.
Voices drift from the kitchen. One of them belongs to my mother. The other is as sweet as corn syrup and as high-pitched as a little girl’s. Except it doesn’t belong to a child.
It belongs to Adair.
My blood pumps so hard I won’t even need my morning caffeine fix. Ducking into the bathroom, I splash cold water on my face and run a brush across my teeth. Then I practically sprint toward the kitchen.
“You look great, Mrs. G,” Adair’s voice drifts down the hall. “That suit is like so pretty. When did you say you came back to Midway Beach?”
“A few weeks ago.”
“I can’t believe I didn’t know you were back.”
“I can’t believe how grown-up you are. You’re stunning.”
I reach the archway to the kitchen and pause. My mother sits catty-corner from a too-familiar blonde at the kitchen table, each of them with their hands wrapped around a mug of coffee.
Yep, it’s Adair all right. Guess I won’t be calling the cops to report her missing.
Mom’s head swivels in my direction. “There you are, Jade. I was about to wake you. Adair stopped by to see you. Isn’t that nice?”
“Hey, Jade.” Adair gives me a sunny smile. She’s nearly six feet tall with high cheekbones, a wide mouth and short, dyed blond hair she gels into tufts. In the last year, she’s probably dropped about twenty pounds, making her model thin. Her look is unusual enough look that heads turn when she walks by. This morning she wears short shorts and a cute white top.
I wish I’d taken the time to change from the oversized T-shirt I sleep in. “What the hell are you doing here, Adair?”
“Ja-ade!” My mother makes it sound like my name has two syllables. “There’s no need to be rude.”
My mom doesn’t know about Adair’s betrayal, but it still ticks me off that she’s leaping to her defense. “Adair and I aren’t friends anymore.”
“That’s what I came over to talk about.” Adair sounds sweet and innocent, the way she always does. Not once, in the months since she