Dead Ringer Page 23

  She leaned back against the seat and spoke in a soft voice. “Ricco was going to let me go after he realized I wasn’t Traci.”

  “How did he know you weren’t Traci?”

  “I didn’t have her tattoo.”

  “What tattoo?”

  “Apparently, he and Traci got matching astrological tattoos. They shared the same sign—a small silver scale on her left shoulder.”

  “Not surprising I didn’t know. Traci and I hadn’t lived as man and wife for almost four years.”

  The Capri airport looked deserted as Thomas parked the car in front of the rental agency and dropped the keys in the slot. They walked the short distance to the plane. As they started to board, Mercy looked down at her sweater, covered with Lucci’s blood. “I can’t let Daniel see me like this. It will frighten him.”

  Thomas removed his jacket and gave it to her. “This is covered with mud, but it will do until you can get a shower in the stateroom. I have a T-shirt you can wear.”

  Fergus met them at the aircraft door.

  “Is Daniel awake?” Thomas asked.

  Fergus shook his head. “As soon as I told him his mother...uh...was safe, he fell asleep.”

  “That’s good. We can all use some rest.” He turned to Mercy. “Do you want that shower now?”

  She sank into the closest seat. “No, I might wake Daniel. I’ll wait until we get home.”

  He sat beside her, leaned back and stretched his legs.

  Soon, her head rested on his shoulder, both hands clasped around his arm, as if afraid he would leave her side. Her face was dirty, her hair mussed and damp, but she had never been more beautiful.

  He smiled in spite of the trauma they’d just gone through.

  She had said home.

  

  Wallace Island, the Aegean Sea

  Saturday, July 8

  No matter what happened in the lives of mankind, God’s world kept turning. The tide came in and went ou., The sun and moon still rose and set at their appointed times.

  Thomas stood at his office window, Traci’s death certificate and Paul Redford’s report in hand, amazed at the island’s tranquility. Serene, despite the unprecedented disruptions of the last two months.

  He had abducted a woman he thought was his wife, brought her to his home, and then left on a black ops mission.

  In his absence, Mercy had been shot at, poisoned, and abducted by an arms dealer.

  He’d learned his wife was dead, and he had fallen in love with her double.

  All this in the space of eight weeks.

  Incredible.

  Now he must somehow explain the bizarre events to his family.

  Mercy and Daniel slept in, as per his instructions that they not be disturbed. They needed rest after their ordeal.

  He read the documents once more before placing them in his jacket pocket. He wanted to speak to Mercy first. Privately. He owed her that.

  The clatter of dishes and silverware from the dining room told him breakfast was ready. His stomach felt hollow. He’d eaten only one meal yesterday.

  There’d been no time to replace Edda, but the house seemed to be running smoothly without her. Breakfast was on time and the smell of waffles and bacon spoke to his hunger.

  He strode down the hall and found Nanna in the dining room. He kissed her cheek. “Good morning, Nanna.” At the buffet table, he filled a plate and grabbed a large mug of coffee.

  Creases formed around Nanna’s eyes, and she gave him a pained stare. “Thomas, I’m so glad you’re back. You can’t imagine how frightened we were, and how good it is to have Traci and Daniel home safely. I’ve been so worried…”

  “I know, Nanna.” He set his plate down, pulled her into his arms, and held her while she cried. When her tears abated, he released her, giving her back a gentle pat. “Everyone’s all right now.”

  She pulled a lacy handkerchief from her pocket and wiped her eye. Giving him a weak smile, she patted the front of his shirt. “I’ve gotten you all damp.”

  “Not a problem. After breakfast, we need to talk. There are things I want to explain.” He must tell her about Traci, but he could at least let her eat before he broke her heart. That Traci never lived up to her potential hadn’t diminished Nanna’s love for her.

  She dabbed at her eyes again and straightened her back. Ever the English lady. She took a plate and added toast and marmalade. A maid entered and poured a cup of tea for her. “Find me when you’re ready.”

  A woman he didn’t know stepped into the dining room and cast him a smile that quickly faded. She came across the room an offered her hand. “I’m Katy Martin, your…wife’s nurse.”

  Fergus must have told her about Traci, judging from her somber expression.

  At ten o’clock, he had the cook put together a breakfast tray, climbed the stairs to Mercy’s room, and knocked. “Mercy, it’s Thomas. May I come in?”

  “Yes, the door’s open.”

  When he stepped into the room, she emerged from the bathroom in a white robe, toweling her hair. “You shouldn’t have done that, Thomas. I was coming down to breakfast, albeit a little late.”

  “I thought you might be as hungry as I was.” He crossed the room and placed the tray on the bedside table.

  “I am, a little. I was just trying to wash away the last seventy-two hours. But I don’t think there’s enough soap and water in the world.” She placed the towel around her neck and sat on the bed, taking a bite of toast.

  Paddy rose from a pillow to investigate the breakfast tray. She gently pushed him away, and he settled back into his nest

  “I’ve discovered the best healer,” Thomas said, “is to replace the bad memories with good ones.”

  The corners of her mouth gave a slight tilt upward. “Sounds like a plan. Where do I start?”

  He inhaled a deep breath, let it out slowly, and sat beside her. “I don’t know where to begin, so I’m just going to jump in. I told you I was investigating your past, remember?”

  She nodded.

  “I received the information just before I arrived on Capri.” He handed her Redford’s report. “My sources did a meticulous job. There are things in there you probably don’t want just anyone to know.”

  He stood and paced to the balcony. “You and Traci were sisters. Two years after Traci was born, your father, Christopher, had an affair with a waitress in Houston named Kristi Carpenter. Kristi was your mother. She put you up for adoption. There’s a photo of her inside. She bears a remarkable resemblance to your father’s wife, Dorothy.”

  She glanced down at the report but didn’t open it. “Well, that explains the resemblance to some degree. Is my mother still alive?”

  “No. She died in a boating accident some years ago. It’s all in the report.”

  “And my father, he was OK—“ She smothered a sob with her hands.

  Feeling helpless, Thomas returned to sit beside her and pulled her close. “Your father, Nanna’s son, died in a car crash six months before you were born. I don’t think he knew your mother was pregnant. But there’s no way to tell since both are dead.” He laid his hand over hers. “Perhaps Nanna can help you there. Although I’m sure she didn’t know about the affair.”

  He stood and punched his hands in his pockets. “The report also covers your time in the orphanage, after your foster parents’ deaths. And your molestation by a male teacher.” His face muscles tensed, making his jaw ache. “Feel free to burn that report.”

  She sat silent for a long while and then looked up at him, tears pooling in her eyes. “When do you want me to leave?” she asked, her voice low.

  “Let’s postpone that discussion until after the funeral. I still have to tell Nanna and Daniel you’re not Traci and about her death.”

  “Do you want me with you when you speak to Daniel? I will if you like, but I’ll need a little time...”

  “We’ll talk to him together, later. He’ll have questions I don’t have answers for. I’ll handle it al
one for the present.”

  He reached down and pulled her into his arms, smoothing her wet hair with his hand. The wretchedness of what she had suffered seared his heart. He cradled her close like a wounded bird, trying to absorb some of the pain.

  

  Mercy lay on her stomach across the bed, her gaze drawn to the cloudless blue sky outside the open French doors.

  Light and dark did not always rest with the weather or current surroundings. Darkness lived inside evil men and rubbed off on their victims, sometimes lasting a lifetime.

  She had managed to hide the darkness left by her past. Along the way, she found a source of Light that could overcome any darkness. The darkness was her past. The Light her future.

  Paddy jumped on the bed and nuzzled her cheek, purring. She sat up and pulled him into her arms. “Whatever happens, Paddy, we’re going to be all right.”

  

  Downstairs, Thomas found Nanna on the terrace. “Shall we walk?”

  She rose and took his arm. “I know you have something terrible to tell me, Thomas. I saw it in your eyes at breakfast. Go ahead. Waiting will only postpone the pain.”

  He cleared his throat and led her over to a chair. “Nanna, your son had an affair with an American woman after Traci was born.” He passed her an extra photo of Kristi. “Were you aware of that?”

  “No, I knew he and Dorothy were having marital problems. But that’s not the sort of thing he would have confided to his mother.” She gazed down at the photograph and smiled. “Chris was always attracted to the same type of woman. The only thing that ever changed about the women in his life were their names and personalities.”

  He turned to face her. “There was a child from that affair, Nanna.”

  She stopped, her eyes widening. The grip on his arm tightened. “That’s not Traci upstairs, is it?”

  “She’s your granddaughter. Her name is Mercy Lawrence. I brought her here against her will, thinking she was Traci. She told me the truth from the beginning. I just didn’t believe her. There were a lot of reasons why I didn’t buy her story, but it’s immaterial, now.”

  Nanna gazed down at Kristi’s picture. “She’s Traci’s half-sister, yet they are so alike. How is that possible?”

  “I can’t explain it. Perhaps just a strong gene pool on your son’s side. As you saw, Mercy’s mother looked more than a little like Dorothy—just a younger version. But who knows?”

  Nanna inhaled a long breath. “I think I knew from the first she wasn’t Traci. Their personalities were so different.” Awareness gleamed in her eyes. “Then Traci...”

  He knelt beside her chair and took her hand. “I wish there was an easy way to say this, Nanna. Traci died seven months ago, murdered by one of Ricco Rossellini’s henchmen.”

  Even though she’d expected bad news, the color drained from her features, leaving her skin pale and gray in the sunlight. She hesitated an agonizing moment before she brought her hands up to cover her face.

  He’d asked Katy to stand by.

  She must have sensed his need. The nurse walked over and patted his shoulder. “I’ll take over here, Mr. Wallace.”

  

  Thomas climbed the stairs to Daniel’s room. One final ordeal.

  Daniel played on the floor with Pal.

  Thomas sat beside his son on the carpet. “Good morning. So this is your new friend. Have you both had breakfast?”

  “Yes, sir. Isn’t Pal cute, Dad? He’s the best puppy ever. I missed him while we were gone.”

  Thomas scratched behind his ear.

  Tail wagging, the puppy rolled over onto his back.

  “He’s pretty special all right, almost as special as you.” He reached over and tousled Daniel’s hair. “I’m very proud of you, Danny, for what you did. Swimming to the other ship was very brave. You were a real hero.”

  Daniel gave him a shy smile and looked away.

  Thomas gathered Daniel into his lap. Explaining to a six year old wasn’t easy. “I have something to tell you, and I need you to be brave once more.”

  As if sensing the seriousness of what was coming, Daniel hugged Pal close to his chest.

  Thomas pushed out a deep breath. This was going to be the longest day of his life. “Danny, do you know what an aunt is?”

  33

  Edinburgh, Scotland

  Tuesday, July 11

  Thomas led the funeral party through customs and found a horde of reporters, photographers, and onlookers waiting inside the terminal.

  “Wallace, how did your wife die?”

  “Did she really have a sister?”

  “What’s the sister’s name?”

  He leaned in close to Fergus. “Take the family and find my father. I’ll try to delay the bloodhounds until you’re in the car.”

  Fergus shepherded Nanna, Mercy, and Daniel past the crowd and disappeared further inside the airport.

  Thomas stopped before a microphone. “Traci’s son, grandmother, and sister are here to lay my wife to rest. We would appreciate your respect for our privacy while we undergo this painful process. My office will issue a statement later this week. Thank you.”

  The journalist continued to yell questions at Thomas as he hurried to catch up with his family.

  Edward Wallace waited inside a limo parked at the curb.

  As soon as the family got inside and Thomas closed the door, the car sped away. They would spend the night at Wallace Manor before the funeral the next day.

  He glanced across at Mercy, her face pale in the dim lighting.

  Daniel snuggled in close to her.

  All Thomas’s protective instincts came to the forefront, but there was no way to shield them from the firestorm tomorrow’s funeral would bring.

  His father’s glance traveled from Mercy to Daniel. This would be Edward Wallace’s first meeting with Mercy.

  Thomas hoped, for her sake, the elder Wallace would conceal his long-standing ill will against her sister.

  Traci had dragged the family name through the tabloids, something his father abhorred.

  His greeting was civil, if a little stiff.

  For now, Thomas would settle for that.

  At Wallace Manor, the party moved into the entryway. Thomas shed his coat while his father made sure the staff settled the women into their quarters and provided tea after their long journey.

  Daniel bounced into the billiard room and his father and Thomas joined them there.

  At dinner that evening Mercy was seated next to his father. After he blessed the food, Mercy echoed amen with the others. His father looked at her and raised one gray eyebrow. “Are you a Christian, Mercy?”

  “Yes, sir. Since I was nine. My faith was all that sustained me after the deaths of my foster parents.”

  “I understand. That’s what saw me through the death of my wife, Catherine, four years ago.”

  Mercy touched his hand. “Thomas told me. I’m so sorry.”

  Edward Wallace’s voice wavered slightly when he spoke. “You have a degree in geology. Do I have that right?”

  “Yes, sir. I worked for Sabine Oil during the summer while I was in college. My supervisor there became my mentor. When he decided to retire, he suggested me as his replacement. It was almost unheard of, but they gave me a shot at it. However, I wasn’t able to accept the job. I wound up on Wallace Island instead.”

  “I guess you know oil equipment is the family business. If you ever decide to use that degree of yours young lady, we can find a place for you at Wallace. Right, Thomas?”

  Thomas nodded.

  “I appreciate that, sir.”

  Thomas eased out a long, silent breath.

  Mercy had just received the family seal of approval.

  

  Edinburgh, Scotland

  Wednesday, July 12

  After breakfast the next morning, Thomas joined the family in the foyer. They clambered into the black limousine waiting in front of the manor for the thirty-minute drive to the
chapel.

  He glanced at the somber faces as they neared their destination.

  Nanna’s elegant face showed no emotion. Her upbringing didn’t allow her to reveal the sorrow.

  He squeezed her hand. No way to spare her the pandemonium and the distress it would bring. The innocent always seemed to bear the most pain.

  The limo stopped at the church entrance and flashbulbs lit the gray morning. The burial of Traci Wallace had turned into a circus, as he feared it would. The passing of an icon couldn’t go without a media frenzy.

  An overflow crowd stood in the rain outside the church. Whether curious, or out of respect for his dead wife, he had no way of knowing. He hoped it was the latter.

  At the gravesite, police kept the media outside the cemetery.

  Thomas stood with Daniel on one side, Nanna on the other. His father supported Nanna’s right arm.

  The unrelenting rain continued, and Thomas pulled the umbrella close to shield Nanna from the elements. She squeezed his arm and leaned against him.

  The black clouds made the mood even more somber.

  Mercy held her umbrella in one hand and clasped Daniel’s in the other. In black hat and sunglasses, her resemblance to Traci was startling.

  And journalists hadn’t missed that fact. For obvious reasons, it had been a closed casket service, which added fuel to the speculations that she really was Traci Wallace.

  The pastor’s last words were lost to him. His thoughts went back to his wedding and the day Daniel was born. He and Traci had shared a few happy times.

  She’d lost her way somewhere but had finally realized there were things in life one couldn’t overlook. Things like killing innocent people to further a radical religious cause. The significance of terrorists on board Ricco’s yacht must have given her pause. She tried to stop him and died because of it.

  Thomas couldn’t visualize a patriotic Traci—a side of her he’d never glimpsed–a side he never allowed her to show him.

  His failed marriage hadn’t been all Traci’s fault. Once he learned of her infidelity, he’d shut her out, never considering forgiveness or trying to work out their problems. His injured pride had pushed her away, refusing to pardon her sins. She deserved better from him. He should have protected her from Ricco and his minions.