Darkside of Nothing

By P. G. Simmons

Discovering that her ex-husband was involved with gangsters and terrorists, Gwynn Taylor is not very surprised when she learns that she has become a target. In order to survive, she becomes part of an elaborate plan and goes into hiding back in her hometown. Escaping from one set of criminals, she ends up encountering another group of crooks and felons. Within days, she comes to realize just how dependent she is on the new chief of police, her sisters best friend, and her own judgment. Not only is the chief of police her protector, it soon becomes obvious that he just might be using her as bait in order to catch the criminals within his jurisdiction.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jan 7, 2015
• ISBN: 9781503523876

P. G. Simmons

P. G. Simmons lives on a small farm with her husband. They have two dogs, one cat, chickens, and a few cattle. Although she is a published writer, she is also a photographer, sculptor, and graphic designer. Her latest novel, Evil Deceit, is a continuation in the saga of the Claybourne family, which is seeped in deep Southern traditions and moral values.

Book preview

Prologue

Friday Late Afternoon

A sharp crack of lightening flashed through the small sterile white bathroom window lighting up the entire pristine area. Inadvertently, I automatically jumped as the bright glare flared across the large wall mirror above the sink reflecting dark, ominous, and overbearing skyscrapers.

Looking up, I saw a distraught pale and drawn face staring back at me with dull empty eyes. I was hard pressed to recognize the face! The stranger looking back at me had a short chopped and cropped hairstyle and her hazel eyes were teary and red. It looked as if she had lost a week’s worth of sleep in just a mere few hours.

What the hell, I thought, what am I doing?

I did not know what exactly I would be gaining by such a ludicrous act as I was committing, but I could not stop myself once I got started. Deep down I knew that this entire scheme of deception and delusion was stupid, ridiculous, and obscene. Still, I felt—no—I knew deep down inside that I had no other recourse. As I had deduced very clearly and accurately, it was my only chance to actually disappear!

I wondered if I had been careful enough placing one of the new sheets over the sink and counter, as well as a second one over the floor. The entire area of the crisp white sheet was now covered with short pieces of silky reddish blond hair. The hair color looked stark against the whiteness of the sheets. I was glad that I had decided at the last moment to cover the floor, as there were a few wisps of hair that had floated over the edge of the counter.

As a tear ran down my cheek, I could not decipher whether it was due to how chopped up and horrid my once beautiful expensive hairstyle now looked or what was lying on the floor of the living room.

How can you think of doing this? I questioned the strange looking individual in the mirror. What kind of monster are you?

The only answer I had was a sigh as I clipped the last few strands of my hair. I had certainly done a hatchet job on it, but I knew it would suffice until I could get to my destination.

After all, I concluded, no one should really be able to tell the difference—we both have always worn our hair rather short!

Looking down at the scissors in my shaking hands, a horrific wave of guilt passed over me, and I came close to upchucking. I forced the bitter taste of bile back into my stomach. I could not afford to leave any more DNA than was already all over the apartment.

No wonder your hair looks so horrid, I whispered softly, shaking my head at the mirrored image. It must be your punishment for what you are doing as well as for what you shall deserve later!

I knew that I had no choice but to get control of myself—somehow! If this surreptitious charade was going to work, I needed all my inner strength to keep my feelings in check and deeply buried within my tormented soul. I would especially have to work on the nervous shaking of my hands as my life would depend on making this entire lie work!

Taking a deep breath, I gingerly placed the scissors in the center of one of the sheets and carefully folded the edges together making sure that none of the unrestrained strands of hair escaped. Taking special care, I enclosed with the hair and scissors all the utensils that I had employed in wreaking havoc with my hair. I certainly did not want to leave any evidence behind of what I had done.

Placing the bulk of material into the large black plastic bag I had placed earlier near the door of the bathroom, I proceeded to tie it tightly at the top making sure that nothing could possibly escape from confinement.

Closing my eyes, I willed myself to take the next step. Opening the bathroom door, I briskly walked to the bed where a duffle bag laid open waiting for me to place the contents in my hands within it. After stuffing the plastic bag into the case, I quickly zipped it shut. Deliberately, I avoided taking any items of necessity that I might need. As one well versed in the actual gathering and use of evidence, it was important that everything appeared untouched and in its place. Leaving everything in perfect order, I was sure that no suspicions would be aroused when someone entered the apartment only to discover the body.

Very attentive to potential danger or errors, I cautiously placed the duffle bag right outside the bedroom door, and then walked around to assure myself that nothing was out of place. Heaven only knew how observant Brad might be if he came to the apartment in order to identify the body.

Once again, I had to steel myself to walk toward the entryway as the body was in plain view, and I needed to be careful as I walked around the room.

The body was lying between the couch and the entry door. There was hardly any blood—only a small dark red pool, which drizzled out of the bullet hole and trickled down and around the head matting her hair and soaking into the beige carpet! All in all, it was amazing at just how little red liquid had seeped out of the lifeless body as it had lain there for such a long time.

It was imperative before I left the apartment that I make sure that I had not missed anything of importance or left anything of consequence behind, which would point at the fact that someone else had been in the apartment. It was hard for me to look at the inert body, but I forced myself to take one long last look into the dead woman’s face!

No matter how much I had steeled myself, it was still just like looking into a mirror! If not for fate, that would have been me lying there dead and not my twin sister!

By some quirk, when I realized that I had been spared, I decided to take my sister’s place at least until I could get home. Why? That was the question, which would probably haunt me until I die! But I knew I wanted to live and if I remained here in New York, I could end up like Lynn, and her death would be for naught.

I felt that it was imperative that I go somewhere safe with family around me. It was important to me as a journalist and writer that I discover what was going on and why. I did not understand any of this at the moment—all I knew for certain was that it should have been me lying there dead!

Thank goodness we were definitely carbon copies of each other, and we had a number of like qualities as well as different distinguishing characteristics. But I was not going to dwell on that since my goal was only to get out of New York and go to my dad for advice and help.

As I stood there looking down at Lynn, I knew without a doubt that no one would be able to tell the difference by just looking at us. She had even taken the suggestion that she choose something out of my closet to wear when we went out celebrating this evening. I knew that Brad would recognize the gown and look no further!

One of the last little things I had done was to take the opportunity to replace my sister’s simple black pumps with my own expensive black stilettos with the blood red soles. I shoved her shoes into her huge bulky black handbag, which I planned to take with me. In its place I put my red leather bag, leaving all the contents intact.

Funny what goes through one’s mind at times of stress! Here I was thinking about how I would have to adjust my own fashion taste to a small town mentality! Shaking my head, I could not imagine going through life without Lynn. We had been inseparable growing up and now, once again, we were going to be conjoint entities in death.

Taking the duffle bag in my left hand, I slung her ugly black purse over my shoulder and picked up my sister’s old suitcase. I could feel the extra weight of Lynn’s iPad. That was one thing that excited her—the electronic age. Computers were her one big vice—thank goodness she kept up with the times in that respect! At least, I would not have to do without technology and the Internet!

I slowly walked to the door, glancing around one last time making sure nothing was out of place. As far as I could tell, the apartment looked exactly how it would have looked had I been the one lying there dead.

Suddenly, I remembered the thumb drive—it had the notes for my latest manuscript. Fishing through the red leather purse, I immediately came up with the drive. I knew that no one, not even Brad, would know about the thumb drive.

Standing there viewing the scene before me was heartbreaking. I knew that once I closed the door—my entire life would change! I knew I was walking headlong into a strange and vulnerable position—one that I knew little about. Still, I knew if I dared to hesitate and did not carry out this crazy scheme, there was a good chance that I would also end up like my twin!

Using Lynn’s return ticket, the airline agent had been very helpful in arranging a family emergency ticket for me. As Lynn—I would be leaving a trail, which the police would be able to follow, but all of that would seem very logical.

As soon as the plane was in the air, a flood of tears poured from my eyes. I was so consumed with grief that I paid little attention regarding anything around me. The bad thing was that I didn’t even notice the stern looking man sitting about eleven seats behind, staring at me with dangerous and steel cold eyes!

Chapter 1

Midnight

There was a dull overcast in the night sky and the dark clouds shut out the stars and what little moon there was. It was so dark that I could not tell where the trees ended and the sky began. The atmosphere was a reflection of my sullen and gloomy inner soul and was doing nothing for my psyche.

As I sat looking out onto the driveway of my childhood home, I fought back the few tears I had left, which were trying their best to escape the corners of my eyes. I had cried and sniffled the entire plane trip and my eyes were red and swollen as I drove from the Montgomery Regional Airport to Apple Valley.

I wondered, how could I have any more tears left?

The big grey house sat high on a hillside overlooking the little town of Apple Valley. As a child, I hated the old house with a passion. It was cold in the winter and hot in the summer, and I was never very comfortable in either season.

I had envied other kids who lived in fancy new houses with the latest and most modern conveniences. They did not suffer the heat of summer or the cold of winter. And they got to look at television whenever they wished!

I often swore that one day I would live where electronics were the way of life—a place with warm heat and cool air at the mere flip of a switch. I kept that promise to myself, and I had achieved most all my goals. I had a dream occupation, and I lived in one of the most luxurious and comfortable apartments in Manhattan!

Apple Valley was an old town with old ideas, and most people were still set in their ways preferring the old traditions as opposed to the modern change of tides all around them. The little hamlet was so small that it still did not show up on a map, and one had to know exactly where it was located in order to find it. Deep down, I felt I would find a safe haven right here at home.

Even my dad had been no exception to that fact as he held tightly to old beliefs and old family values. He was what one would call an old relic! And I hated to admit it, but I had called him worse things!

I had been in a very black mood ever since I shut that apartment door to my past life and ran. By the time I had arrived in Apple Valley, my mood had grown darker and more morose. The long airplane trip had not aided my feelings any, and all I did was sniff and tear.

It was well after midnight when I had finally let myself into the house. I was, at the time, not ready to face Dad even if he had still been up, but then I knew he would be sound asleep in his room clear across the other side of the house. Since he always retired early in the evenings, I had no worries that I might accidently run into him.

Although I knew that I had at least the weekend and maybe a few more days before Lynn’s body was discovered, I hoped that with my dad’s help we could figure things out and solve this dilemma. But for the moment, I could wait until dawn broke to face him.

I was certainly not ready to tell him what had taken place in New York City. Yet, if he saw my red blood shot eyes and raw runny nose, he would know I had been crying and would immediately began to question me. I would have to confess everything to him right then and there. As it was, I wanted time to get my story correct and myself under control. Under those circumstances, I headed directly to my old bedroom.

What I had to tell him was not anything that could not wait until morning. I knew that I would not be able to fool him—after all, Lynn was the favorite. She had taken care of him ever since our mother’s death over twenty years ago!

Still I needed to buy myself some time, as I needed to be alone and think. After all, how do you tell a parent that he has lost one of his children? Weren’t children supposed to outlive their parents?

I sighed, how in the world do I tell him his favorite child was dead and there was nothing I could have done to prevent it?

Even now that I was home—sleep would not come. All I could do was sit and stare out into the darkness no longer feeling anything—drained of all emotion. All my thoughts should be about Lynn and how I was going to miss my other half, but all I could think about was how my life was crumbling right before my eyes. How everything I had worked for, I had thrown away in one stupid, frightened gesture. How much more selfish could one person be?

Fear makes you do things you would not ordinarily do. I would have never considered stepping into my twin sister’s shoes under any circumstances. The life I had was of my own making and to say I did not enjoy being a known author would be lying! Yet, on the other side of the coin, that was probably what led to Lynn lying in my living room dead and me sitting in Apple Valley alive!

Almost two years ago I had discovered that hardcore criminal elements had, over the years, positioned themselves into state and city government, police departments, and New York Society. They didn’t fit our perception of what we thought criminals looked like—rather, they wore Armani suits, Gucci shoes and Ralph Lauren shirts and sweaters. They threw money at charity functions and good causes in order to cover up their illegal business dealings.

I had started out as a journalist writing small insignificant stories on crime and punishment. It was a boring and thankless job, and within a few years I made the decision to begin to write novels. I had to admit that Brad was most encouraging and supportive since my not working did not in any way put a hardship on our life style. My ex-husband came from a wealthy and influential family. His father was Senator Dennison and his mother was a Donnelly, one of Boston’s socially prominent families. They both oozed money!

Being a non-fiction writer, I had over the years built my reputation as a no-nonsense, honest and fair investigator. I had started out as a minor investigative reporter for a major newspaper in New York City. I knew that my in-laws’ position of importance was more than helpful in securing that first position for me, but I worked hard to succeed.

Within six years, I retired from the newspaper business and started writing novels full-time. Not to brag, but I was now a well-known author in New York City and accepted in the crux of high society. I had a number of books on the shelves, but I was nowhere near the top of that long list of popular selling novelists. I was as guilty as all the other highbrows using anything at hand as a crutch to dodge from accountability. But for me it was only a temporary measure until I realized what was going on in the undercurrents of New York snobbery.

It was my latest project that had been the cause of all of this—Lynn’s death and my escape. When I discovered how the rich and famous were being used and led around like sheep, I had no choice but to expose this evil.

I delved full force into the idea of writing this exposé on this elite criminal element found throughout the upper crust of New York. I wanted the normal unconcerned citizens to stop and look at the person next to them—see what they had harbored and protected all those years! In truth I wanted justice for the common man and our country.

These men weren’t the types to get their hands dirty but had a number of levels below them of worker bees to carry out their orders and distasteful work. They had their fingers into the administration, the police department as well as a number of law firms. They dealt in drugs, gun running, protection, money laundering, and worst of all, assassinations. When my investigation turned up the fact that my ex-husband’s law firm was not only representing these horrible individuals but also a large terrorist organization, I drew my own red line!

It had taken me nearly two years to uncover more than I had ever imagined. This gathering of information and evidence was not only shocking but also terrifying. I began detailed recordings in secret on this subject, and I was absolutely repulsed as it all went against my moral upbringing.

So, it was no surprise that fear gripped me, and I felt that the criminals had come full circle. Seeing my twin lying there dead was the last thing I had ever imagined! Escape was the only thing consuming my entire being! Using the most obvious means of evasion at hand—I did so without a second thought.

As soon as I had discovered Brad’s connection to these mobsters and terrorists, I knew I had to detach myself from him. So, over two years ago I asked for a separation thinking it would be easier after a while to move on to a divorce.

Brad was reluctant, but in the end he gave in to my request. We set up separate households, and although I was able to support myself, this grated on Brad as he insisted on supplementing my income. When I was adamant about not accepting money from him, he insisted on continuing the payments on our huge luxurious Manhattan apartment. It gave him the feeling that I needed him in order to survive! And whenever I was honest with myself, I knew the fact that he paid the exorbitant rent was a big help.

After a year, I insisted on a divorce. I knew that I could not publish my new novel without severing all ties with my husband of over fifteen years. But none of it worked out as I had planned.

Under an undue amount of threats, Brad convinced me that I actually needed to reconsider my stand on the exposé. He also reminded me, as if I didn’t know, that these men were relentless and would stop at nothing. So, I traded my moral high ground, my evidence, and my manuscript for his signature on divorce papers.

I had my freedom in return, and his clients had my original manuscript and evidence notes safely in their hands. At the time, I figured it was a fair trade if Brad’s concerns for my safety were correct. Like a fool, I figured that after a few years, I could more than likely go ahead with my project without anyone caring one way or the other.

Being my dad’s wise and brilliant child, I kept copies as future security. Thinking I was so smart, I sent digital copies of everything to my twin and insisted that she put it in a safety deposit box at a little insignificant bank in Autaugaville, Alabama. I knew there would be no problems as long as it remained between us. She could easily pretend to be me, secure a safety deposit box, and keep the key safely at Dad’s house.

I believed that I was being intelligent putting away a second set of digital files since I did not trust these clients of Brad’s. There was no doubt in my mind that they would leave me alone since I did trust my ex-husband. At least, I thought I had all the bases covered until I got to my apartment and found Lynn lying there dead.

Fear makes a person do strange and stupid things, and as smart as I believed I was when it came down to running for my life—I was consumed with overpowering terror! I was sure now that I had done a number of stupid things that would lead to my discovery. I was getting anxious as the sun tried to peek over the hillside. It was more imperative than ever that I have that serious talk with my dad. But it was still early and he was still asleep. I procrastinated and decided I’d let him sleep since I wasn’t ready to face him yet.

To say I was a nosey and a most curious child was quite an understatement. I could never keep out of other people’s business. I guess that was why I became a writer.

My parents always said I had been a selfish child ever since my birth. If Mom told me once she told me a million times that I screamed all the way out the birth canal—angry that I had to leave the warm comfortable haven.

They always made allowances for me and my delving and sticking my nose into things that were not any of my business. Hadn’t they tried to make other individuals see me the way they did? Everyone in town, whenever they thought of me, they would say—Oh, that’s just that Taylor girl, you know, the odd one!

After all, Dad had always said I was the smartest of his three girls—always number one in the class, always winning the prizes, and the one who got to go to college. Why now was it that I could see everything so much more clearly? What made it so different now? I was sitting here in my old room looking out on the emptiness and quietness of the hillside just like I had always done when I was young. Why couldn’t I have been this observant about human nature back when I was growing up? But then all I could think of back then was getting out of this close-minded, intolerant and old-fashioned town. I wanted more out of life than Apple Valley could offer.

I knew that I would be bombarded by questions as soon as Dad saw me, but for now all I wanted was to try to soak up some of the safeness and warmth that seemed to be eluding me. No matter what I thought of my dad, I knew he would not let me down. When it came to family, he closed ranks quickly.

I must have jumped ten feet as the big grandfather clock struck five times. Wondering how anyone could sleep with that thing going off every hour on the hour, I automatically began to count each and every harmonious ring when it struck its cord. Still, it amazed me just how I had ever gotten any sleep growing up.

I had sat idle for many hours contemplating a lot of things. One was whether or not I should make my way down to the kitchen to start the coffee for breakfast. I knew Dad was a creature of habit. He was always up by five-thirty on the dot, as his schedule had never changed in all the years that he worked for the township.

Before heading out, he liked to sit and enjoy a long and leisurely breakfast as he read the early morning newspaper. Nothing had ever changed for him. I had always wondered just why he never bothered to alter his routine. Even the day Mom died, Dad had kept to his schedule and insisted that we do the same!

That was when I knew I had to get out of this house and away from Apple Valley! I was being smothered by old-fashioned values and ideals. I wasn’t allowed to show emotion in public. As a family, he demanded that the three of us be beacons of strength and perfection.

Suddenly, for some unknown reason, I remembered that only a few years ago I had given Lynn and Dad one of those Keurig individual coffee makers for Christmas. Still, knowing Dad, I was sure he had probably packed it away and insisted that it was way too uppity for him.

And knowing my twin, she went along with whatever Dad wanted. Lynn always did kowtow to him much too much. She acted more like a wife than a daughter! She was the one who stayed in Apple Valley to take care of our dad.

It wasn’t long until I could smell the coffee brewing! I realized that more than likely Dad had fixed a large pot of coffee set to automatically brew before going to bed. Yes, I told myself, it was ingrained into his daily routine—the coffee would be waiting before he even hit the staircase.

Lynn had been just like Dad in setting schedules and keeping to them. She also loved Apple Valley and the old traditions. They both ran their lives according to set schedules, and it was no surprise to anyone that Lynn had dedicated her life to Dad. My only surprise over the years was that she never became that interested in any one particular individual, and everyone was pretty sure she was headed for being an old maid.

Breakfast was at five-thirty and dinner was at six without fail. My sister had even mentioned that her life was perfectly timed, and she could depend on things never changing. She had said it gave her a feeling of comfort to know exactly when, where and how the day would go once she was up and out of the house.

I sighed as I realized that the prodigal daughter was fixing to ruin that perfect and comfortable existence that my dad called his life. I was well aware that nothing would ever be the same as soon as he learned that Lynn was gone. There was no doubt in my mind that he would place the blame squarely on me and from what I could see—rightly so!

After all, I had rushed home without forewarning him. Hadn’t I taken my own twin sister’s place without any thought of what it would do to my dad? I could hear him now ranting and raving about how inconsiderate and selfish I still was—only thinking of myself!

Lynn and I were identical twins right down to our size, eyes and hair color. We relished the fact that we looked alike and talked alike. We even cut our hair similarly—it was like magic that we always seemed to do the same things within hours or days of each other. The connection between us was uncanny!

The preferred term for identical is monozygotic, which simple means from one egg. The identical part comes into play because we shared the same DNA, the same brain wave patterns, and the exact same physical characteristics—in other words we were mirror images.

Our only difference was our personalities. Lynn was the patient one, and definitely inherited our mother’s gentleness and kindness wrapped up in total empathy for other people. Everyone always came first with her, and she was quick to soothe the cuts and bruises of growing up. She was the one out of the three of us, who was content and happy living in Apple Valley.

On the other hand, I was the more aggressive and restless twin. I got my dad’s temper and stubbornness. I knew all of my shortcomings as I had heard about them over and over all the years I was growing up. Long before I ever traded Apple Valley for the Big Apple, I had made peace with all my defects and weaknesses.

My greatest desire growing up was to get out of the little one horse town and pursue what I dreamed was my destiny—writing. My true life began the day I started pursuing a writing degree at Columbia University in New York City, followed by a rather successful writing career and marriage to a wealthy man.

My little sister, Ellen, who was a different kettle of fish, also couldn’t wait to leave Apple Valley. She was not like either Lynn or me, and our dad often joked that in the middle of the night elves switched her for his own little blond angel. Although Ellen was very self-centered, she was also temperamental and deceitful growing up. She learned early to use her beautiful face and body to her advantage, and she had everyone wrapped around her little finger. Dad could not refuse her anything—Lynn and I were sure it was because she resembled our mother so much!

Our mother was a Claybourne—Ellen Leah Claybourne. To most people that didn’t mean much, but around Autaugaville the name was as good as gold—which meant they could borrow money on their good name without collateral. Her family roots went all the way back before the Civil War, and her distant relatives played an important role in the South’s bid for separation.

My mom was the only child of Jacob Claybourne, owner and operator of Perrin’s—a small old-fashioned mercantile store. Upon her parents’ deaths, she and Dad closed the store, auctioned off all the goods, and brought one major connection to the Claybourne history to an end. The small inheritance was then put into bond investments and forgotten about.

Although my kid sister did not have the inclination or ambition to go any further than graduating from high school, she did manage to capture and marry a rich, successful realtor. Lynn and I were sure at the time that she had broken our dad’s heart. He had hoped she would do something special with her life since she had been his golden girl all those years of growing up.

Still, how many times had Ellen indicated that living in Montgomery was not the same as living in New York City? It had been apparent early on that she was a bit jealous of my success and marriage to Brad. But she was rather excellent at putting a good face on her situation—after all, a big fish in a medium size pond is somewhat very satisfying. And being quite high up on the Country Club social list was more than mere compensation.

Being married to a wealthy man was all she had aspired to, but now Lynn had indicated that our kid sister was getting a little tired of the perfect wife role. Even the fact that her husband was so much older had not deterred her from marrying him. Her goal of living to the fullest and becoming a social butterfly had been realized the moment she said—I do. It was very apparent that my brother-in-law, Paul Hancock, enjoyed having a young trophy wife to show off, as much as Ellen enjoyed living a rich and wealthy lifestyle!

All in all, I said under my breath in a low whisper, the Taylor family had remained a rather average family, living a rather average life in a rather average old house, in a very average little town with rather boring and average friends.

Now that I was back home pretending to be my twin, I would have to settle for being rather average again. Life was going to be dull, but it was the safest and best place I could hide. No one would ever think of looking for me in such a non-descript little hole in the road like Apple Valley, Alabama.

I knew the longer I procrastinated about going downstairs to face my dad, the more chance there was that he would be knocking at Lynn’s bedroom door across the hall. After all, he couldn’t miss the powder blue Subaru parked out in the driveway.

When I had seen the ten year-old Subaru Hatchback staring back at me from the long-term airport parking lot, I had thought that it was just like my twin to hold onto something so shabby and old! After all, nobody in Apple Valley ever got rid of a car that had any amount of life still in it except for those who tended to show off!

Even though I did not relish the fact of having to face Dad, I knew I could not delay the confrontation much longer. So prolonging the inevitable was no longer an option. I stood up and walked over to the mirror to check my appearance. I looked like hell. There were dark circles under my eyes and the green flecks took on a greyish look. The spikey red hair stood up as if I had neglected to comb it for days. The only thing that did not look so worn and torn was my skin—it still had a nice clean, smooth look.

I sighed, realizing that this was the best that I could hope to look when I faced Dad. As I stood looking at my face, it visually melted into Lynn’s face with that horrid bullet hole in her forehead. I couldn’t help myself as my mind took over once again and began to relive what had occurred previously to bring me to this point of my life.

I glanced over at the huge black handbag lying on the bed, which like my leather bags, served not only as a purse but also as a carrying case for a small computer and a cell phone. Lynn had never cared much for the fancy heavy leather purse I had given her for Christmas three years ago preferring the ordinary bags she carried!

Yes, I thought, I’ll have to rummage through my sister’s closet and try to find that stylish leather bag since I could not see myself walking around with such a dull and commonplace purse when there was at least one accessory somewhere in this house that was fashionable.

I hated the fact that I had to leave all my important papers, notebooks, iPad, and cell phone in my big red leather handbag. It would have been strange for those things to be missing and not accounted for. I had to settle for taking Lynn’s bag with her iPad and cell phone in it.

Still, I felt comfortable having taken the thumb drive, which had been hidden safely in a side pocket of the bag, since no one knew of its existence.

I was sure that Brad would use his legal eagle eyes scanning the apartment. I did not want him to make a big deal that some of my things were missing. After all, he would need to identify that big leather purse of mine.

I had gotten into the habit during my college years of stuffing everything I needed in my handbag. I knew that more than likely I had hurt Brad’s feelings early in our marriage when I refused to carry the big brief case he had given me when I got my first break in New York. It was so much easier to just sling my bag over my shoulder and take off. I could carry everything I needed in there—manuscripts, my small computer, my cell phone, and even a snack.

I automatically glanced over at the big black bag since I was thinking about it. I knew that I had to do something with the thumb drive I had taken at the last minute. Slipping it out of the big purse, I decided on the fly to hide it in the medicine cabinet.

Dumping out half the contents of a bottle of aspirin, I stuffed the thumb drive into the bottle then added back as many tablets as necessary to cover it. Satisfied with my actions, I returned to my bedroom.

I could see the corner of Lynn’s iPad poking out as well as a few envelopes. I had all but forgotten about my mail. I remembered now that I had found it strange that there was no one at the front desk when I arrived at my apartment that evening or when I had left. At the time, I thought nothing much about it except how inconvenient it was for the tenants in the building.

By the time I was settled on the airplane, I had noticed the mail that was stuffed in Lynn’s handbag. It was my mail. I assumed that Lynn had apparently picked it up on her way into the apartment. I was sure she got a kick out of pretending to be me and graciously accepted my mail from the front desk clerk.

After all my careful preparations before leaving the apartment, I did not know that I had walked out with my mail, and I was sure that the desk clerk would not forget about handing it to me that particular afternoon—or rather the person he figured was me! That could certainly have been a big mistake on my part.

It was just one more thing that could ruin my entire scheme. That one mistake could be the cause of the killer finding me. I placed the few pieces of mail on the bedside table. I then ripped open the manila envelope. It was copies of my final divorce decree—how very appropriate.

Holding the papers in my hand, I could not stop my mind from wandering. My entire being had felt complete relief the day I had come right out and asked for a separation. Brad had reluctantly agreed to my wishes with the understanding that if I had any sudden change of heart we would give marriage one more chance. I knew that was only a pipe dream on his part because my mind was made up, and once I made a decision, I rarely ever changed my mind!

That was another thing my dad was always telling me—You are the most stubborn and most unforgiving child. I guess he had been right about that.

After a while, I began to enjoy being single and had carefully worked out my own survival plans. Being a successful writer made it just that much easier to refuse Brad’s advances. But within six months, Brad was almost begging for reconciliation. Having a very suspicious nature, I knew all of his solicitation had to be connected with his wealthy but illegal clientele.

I rejected the idea of being married to Brad any longer and filed for a divorce. At first, he refused to sign the papers. In the end, he finally had to acknowledge that he was concerned about my safety begging me to give up my idea of publishing the exposé novel I was writing as well as dropping the divorce proceedings.

I agreed to cancel my plans for the books in return for his signature on the divorce papers. Under those circumstances, I was to relinquish the original manuscript and all the notes, which were to be turned over to him the day my attorney filed the papers. That was when he unabashedly admitted that he could not guarantee my safety if I went through with the divorce. Being stubborn and resentful, I consented to his final terms.

I guess that was when I became complacent and decided that I just might need insurance for I did not trust Brad’s companions to keep their word of leaving me alone. That was when I had sent Lynn the digital copy of my manuscript and notes. At the time I did not know that I was putting her life in danger.

For some reason Brad wanted me back in his life even if it was just as a friend. Why? Just to keep an eye on me? That was the question I could not figure out! I was having an awful time keeping him away! He was always under foot, and I saw more of him than I ever did when we were married and living together.

He had changed so much that I did not like being alone with him. Yet, he was calling and dropping by at all hours without notice! He acted as if he still belonged in my apartment. I began to suspect that he only returned his apartment keys to me after he had duplicates made.

Because I suspected that Brad was coming and going at will, I told Lynn that I was afraid of what he might do. That was my reason I needed my sister, but I never knew what her reason for having to see me was all about.

The excuse that I needed the support of a family member did not ring that true, but I was willing to wait until we saw each other for her to explain.

Lynn’s arrival had not only given me a boost, but when I spoke to her on the phone earlier that devastating afternoon, I knew I would see her within a few hours at the apartment. She sounded excited, and even I felt a surge of happiness just knowing we would have all evening to sit and gab. I felt the same that she felt—that the two of us were stronger together than each alone.

I even suggested that she rummage through my closet and find something to wear since we had planned a big night out to celebrate our birthday. I knew she loved getting the chance to wear an outfit she wouldn’t be caught dead in at home. I had made reservations at Daniel, one of the most elegant and expensive restaurants in New York City.

Daniel, located in the heart of Manhattan’s Upper East Side, boasts a contemporary French cuisine and world class wines. This night out was my birthday gift to my twin sister since I knew she rarely got to enjoy such an elegant ambiance, gracious service, or delectable cuisine as offered by Chef Daniel Bulud.

I was sure that no one knew of Lynn’s arrival that day. She had let herself into the apartment with the key I had given her over a year ago when Brad and I separated. She had a habit, just like me, of kicking off her shoes, throwing her coat and purse on the couch, and pouring herself a small drink.

Now, this is where I began to surmise what had happened. I knew it was all conjecture, but I couldn’t help myself as I told myself it was the writer in me.

I believe she had picked out one of my dresses for the evening and was probably deciding on how it looked when the doorbell rang or someone used a key. Thinking it was me she probably came into the living room and was shot right then and there.

That was as far as I was able to calculate what had happened. I could make all the guesses in the world and still not come up with the right answers! But I could also see at the moment I found her body that she would be identified as me. She was wearing the light blue satin Parisian evening dress, which my ex-husband had given me on our last anniversary.

As I relived those moments, I could still feel the devastation when I opened the apartment door and came face to face with my sister lying there a bullet hole in her head and no life in her body. It took me a moment to realize what had taken place! I had been late getting out of my meeting with my publisher; otherwise we both would have been in the apartment.

At that moment, I knew that I was totally alone. I had no one to turn to and my only chance was to run. But how, where, and to whom? I stood there trying to comprehend what had happened as soon as I realized that I was the one who was supposed to be lying there on the floor dead! That was when I knew that I needed to make a decision right then and there.

Without thinking it through, I decided to take my sister’s place and disappear until I could figure out the why and how of the situation. If it were known that I was still alive, then there would not be an opportunity to go into hiding and try to find out who wanted me dead and why? I could speculate all I wanted, but I needed proof of what I suspected!

Since I was home now and safe, I could feel my self-confidence and strength beginning to revitalize. It gave me a warm feeling to know that I would soon be in the presence of the one person who truly and unconditionally loved me. Together we would not only mourn, but we would also comfort each other. Together my dad and I would work it all out.

There was no doubt in my mind that Dad would recognize me immediately wondering where Lynn was. He would be sympathetic but devastated by the fact that his favorite child was dead. Still, I needed my dad’s strength to help me navigate this dark period. The ironic part of all of this was that yesterday had been our birthday!

Here I was in the middle of a murder. I didn’t plan to be a drain on my dad, but I didn’t know where else to go. One thing I could thank Brad for was insisting that I keep and bank my own money. I was not penniless, but how in the world could I get any of my money now that I would be assumed dead? I knew I had named my dad as my beneficiary on all my holdings before the divorce was final, but I would have to be declared dead first.

Even if my publisher or someone at the firm decided to contact me, I couldn’t be sure the desk clerk would not have the inclination to check my apartment. New Yorkers are so funny like that! Still, even if they went into the apartment, discovered the body, reported it to the police, it would more than likely take another week or two to prove that it was Lynn and not me. At least, Dad and I would have a short period to decide exactly how to proceed with this terrible web I have begun to weave.

What a birthday gift! Turning thirty-eight couldn’t have made me feel any worse than I already felt. All I could think of was what was I going to do and how was I going to tell my dad?

I always took aging with a grain of salt never wanting to celebrate or even talk about it. To me it was just another day. Whereas, Lynn had always loved celebrating holidays and birthdays! Every time the calendar rolled around to what she called our special day, Lynn would call and wish me a happy aging day! She was like that! Always making up little names for things and people. That was something as twins we both did!

A thought just reared its ugly head in my mind! I had suddenly remembered that Lynn just recently told me that she was dating someone special, but she wasn’t ready to tell me who because she didn’t want to jinx it. At the time, I hadn’t given it much attention. Since I had no idea who it was that Lynn was seeing, how was I going to cope with this new wrinkle? Then it dawned on me that all I needed to do was ask Dad—surely he knew!

Lynn had waited long enough to get involved with someone. Hadn’t she been the child who dedicated her life to taking care of Dad? It was then that I felt a little ashamed of myself as I realized that my sister had deserved any little bit of happiness. After all, she was an unselfish and very loving individual. Just how could I live up to such a standard?

Thank goodness Lynn had taken a two-week vacation from her job, and now I had a good reason to just hang around the house until I got my head on straight! Maybe I had time to adjust to this new situation.

Now that I was back in Apple Valley, the very town that I had worked so hard to leave behind, I was feeling no better in regard to what I had done, but I was feeling much safer. The little hamlet sat snug and safe in a fertile valley surrounded by numerous little hills, which gave it great protection from many of the yearly storms.

Great climate was about the only thing that the folks of Apple Valley could brag on. The economy was hitting them pretty hard and the only product in the valley was going downhill fast.

From my bedroom window I could see acres and acres of fruit trees climbing the hillsides and dotting the orchard groves of the local farmers. By rote, I knew that the trees were now producing big juicy red and gold apples. It was now going into August, and it would be just a few weeks before the farmers would start harvesting their crop. That is—if there was going to be a relatively good return on their investment!

Apples had always been the main staple of the orchard farms in Apple Valley. We were lucky to have good soil and balanced prevailing weather conditions as far as temperatures, rainfalls and winds.

These Orchard farmers had always grown Red Delicious, Golden Delicious and Gala apples, which planted together, are good cross-pollinators and early bloomers. There were some farmers that also planted Granny Smith apples in addition to the others. It was important that all the fruit ripens and is gathered at the same time.

In the early days the farmers who couldn’t afford two or three apple crops would plant crabapple trees to help with the cross-pollination of their main apple trees. The result or consequences of that activity was quite acceptable and the small farmers were able to make a simple living.

Apples were still the mainstay in Apple Valley, but over the years many farmers had begun to raise other fruits such as peaches, pears, and plums in order to try and spread out their losses during the year. Many of the orchards are still family owned, handed down for generations, and still run just like their fathers and their forefathers did before.

Dad had often complained about how bad the Orchard farmers were having it. It seemed that over the last few years, the local farms had slowly begun to be gobbled up by big rich consortiums, which were just after the land, and not so much for the good of the community. Apparently the idea of lining their pockets was the only objective of big business.

I knew from Lynn that Dad was trying to get the smaller farmers to pool their resources and band together to form something like an Ag Co-Op. His idea was good, but he was having a hard time selling it to the few farming families left in the area and surrounding counties. She had mentioned that there was another individual in the area selling a similar idea—except he was offering more security and help with crop failure. I could tell that Lynn was not impressed with this Johnny come lately.

In a way, I was very proud of our dad for at least trying to not only block these big corporations from coming in and taking over, but to create something to help the locals keep the profits in their own pockets.

I still had to admit that the orchards here in Apple Valley grew the best fruit around. Lynn had never failed to ship me a supply of fresh fruit each August during the height of the harvesting season!

Why, I thought, hadn’t I made different decisions in my life? Was I so consumed by my tunnel vision to see what was before me? Or am I just getting too old and feeling too sorry for myself right now?

I couldn’t help it! I had to try and figure out what was going on—it was the curse of being so darn curious. Hadn’t Dad always told me that I was too big for my britches and that my curiosity would one day get me into good deal of trouble? Well, that had certainly come true!

If I had not chased what I believed was my destiny, I would have never left Apple Valley. And if I had never left Apple Valley then I would have never decided to write that infernal exposé novel. And if I hadn’t begun all that research I would never have discovered all the corruptness in New York society. And possibly, none of this would ever have taken place! In a roundabout way, I felt that all of this had been entirely my fault—especially my twin’s death.

Why did I always have to be so bull headed? Why did I jump into a marriage before I even graduated from college? What had led me to believe that Brad and I were like two peas in a pod? Did I really think that Brad and I had the same values and goals in life? I know now that we never did!

It took all these years for me to see what was right before my eyes. But I had not counted on the fact that someone would mistake my twin for me. It did not escape my notice that all the exposé evidence might be behind all of this, and it was supposed to be me dead lying there on the floor of my New York apartment.

I didn’t even have the courage to report it. Just what kind of sister was I? One who was terrified for my own life! Like a fool, I had blackmailed Brad into signing the divorce papers over a year ago. And like an idiot, I thought nothing of it. Thinking back now, I could see that the people that Brad’s firm was in bed with could not be trusted. What made me think they could—I’ll never know? Didn’t they see I was willing to look the other way in order to get my freedom from Brad? Again, that selfish streak in me had blossomed.

Now, I couldn’t see what Brad and I ever really had in common. The fact that our careers came first was about all we really ever shared. Each of us successfully pursued our careers disregarding everything else in our path. We were both comfortable in the fast lane and moved up the ladder of success at a steady pace. Even our so-called friends exclaimed that we were the perfect couple.

How many times, I wondered, had I considered myself lucky? And when was it that I finally started to take notice of Brad’s activities? Had I been so wrapped up in my own self that I had been guilty of turning a blind eye to that as well as my marriage?

Had I just not seen the signs as the years progressed? Had we grown so far apart over the years, that I was too stupid to recognize the little signals that Brad was getting too deeply involved with the wrong people? Did it take the separation for me to finally see what was in front of me all along? Or was I just so blasé that I didn’t care as long as he left me alone to write my novels?

These were questions that continued to pick at my soul. I was becoming desperate to have answers to them and others which occupied my thoughts—especially now after Lynn had been killed! I needed to know who was behind it and why? Brad had warned that once we were divorced he couldn’t protect me, but stubborn me would not listen.

Had I been so mistaken all those years? After all, it was no secret that Brad’s family was a wealthy and affluent part of New York society or that his father, Senator Dennison, ran his family with a stern hand. Even the fact that Brad’s father had planned out his entire career had never really bothered me. I had my goals for the future ahead of me, and that was all I truly cared about.

He had told me that a partnership was waiting for him with a most prestigious law practice, which catered to only the wealthy. I had thought that was wonderful—his career was secured!

Now I understood everything so much better. Apparently the word wealthy not only referred to socially prominent people with money, but also meant criminals with money, men with terrorist ties, and now out-and-out killers.

Neither Brad nor his law partners bothered to distinguish among them! It was the all-powerful dollar that was important! Now, I knew there had to be a connection between Brad’s clients and the killing of my sister.

A strange sound interrupted my train of thought. It sounded like a low-key argument coming from downstairs. It was definitely out of the ordinary that my dad would be entertaining company this early in the morning since he set such store by his alone time. By the raising of the voices, I was sure that whoever it was had not been expected, but I still could not tell if it was a woman or a man.

I rushed out of the room, stopping short at the top of the stairs to listen. Strange that the shouting stopped at just that precise moment! I stood there trying to make a decision of whether or not to go down and find out what was going on.

Not wishing to be obtrusive and realizing that whatever the argument was, it was finished. I hung