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“We waited to have breakfast with you,” Aunt Winnie said. “Are you ready to eat?”
“Sure. Give me a minute to run upstairs and freshen up.”
“I’ll bring your luggage,” Portia said.
“Put it in our bedroom. I’ll wash my hands and face and then join everyone in the dining room.”
During breakfast Rissa forced an upbeat manner as she chatted with her aunt and sisters, answering their questions about the success of Memories of the Past.
“We saw a glowing review in the local paper,” Miranda said. “‘Hometown Girl Makes a Splash in the Big Apple.’ If an article makes it into our paper, you can be assured that the news has spread nationwide.”
“I am pleased with public reception to my play,” Rissa said, smothering a yawn. “My agent encouraged me to start working on another one right away, so I’ve been busy writing a new one.”
“Now that Portia will be moving back to Stoneley, won’t you be lonesome in the big city?” Aunt Winnie asked. “Why don’t you come home? Seems to me you could write as well here as in New York.”
“I could never be lonely in New York. It is my home now,” Rissa said. “Coming to Stoneley seems like the end of the world. I can’t imagine anything that would entice me to live here again.”
“It isn’t a good thing to forget your roots,” Miranda scolded, and Rissa knew she had sounded a little supercilious. She didn’t mean to be that way and decided she would have to work on her attitude. But her relatives who had never lived in the city couldn’t understand how life on the fast track had changed her priorities.
Missing her youngest sister, Rissa asked, “Has Juliet already gone to work this morning?”
“She’s in Florida on a business trip and will be gone for a week or two,” Winnie explained.
“Tough luck,” Rissa said, with a humorous uplift of her carefully tweaked brows. “Having to leave Maine for a trip to Florida this time of year must have been a real sacrifice.”
“Well, it was in a way,” Portia said. “She didn’t want to leave her boyfriend behind.”
Rissa had been introduced to Brandon De Witte, whom Juliet had met recently. It must have been love at first sight because the romance seemed to be moving forward rapidly.
After breakfast Rissa took a shower, went to bed and slept until noon. When she was awakened by a knock on the door by her aunt, who announced that lunch was ready, she dressed hurriedly in black silk pants and a hot-pink long-sleeved blouse. A pair of metallic leather flat shoes completed her outfit. She brushed her hair over her shoulders and went downstairs to the news that her father had finally come out of his office, gone to his bedroom, dressed and left for his job as the steel-hearted CEO of Blanchard Fabrics. The women ate lunch alone.
“Do you suppose I can see Grandfather this afternoon?” Rissa asked as they finished the light lunch of crab soup, raw vegetables and cherry torte.
“According to Peg, he isn’t having a good day,” Miranda said. “She said she would let you know when he’s lucid.”
“I don’t know what we would do without Peg,” Rissa said of the sweet-natured nurse who took care of their grandfather round the clock. “Does she ever take a day off?”
“I could count on one hand the time she’s been away from the house during the past five years,” Winnie said. “But it’s her fault—we’ve tried to get her to take more time off. She says she doesn’t know what else she would do.”
“She doesn’t have any family in this area at all,” Miranda said. “She specializes in long-term care and lives in the homes of the families she helps. She apparently doesn’t have a place of her own.”
“Well, we’re fortunate to have her,” Rissa said.
When Winnie rang for the maids to clear the table, Rissa said, “I need a walk along the seawall. Portia, why don’t you walk with me to the bluffs? After all, the main reason I’m here is to help plan your wedding. We can make plans as we walk.”
“You can’t go walking in those clothes,” Miranda said, casting a disdainful eye at the garments that had set Rissa back several hundred dollars. “This isn’t New York City. You’d better take off that fancy outfit and dress for the weather up here. Remember, it’s still April, and you know that we often have snow this time of year.”
Rissa winced a little at the censure in her sister’s voice. Miranda didn’t understand that in this house, she had to have something tangible, like her city clothes, to remind her that there was another life waiting for her.
“Snow! Don’t tell me it’s going to snow.”
“No,” Portia said. “The weather forecast is for thunderstorms, but it’s still cold outside.” Turning to Miranda, she continued, “I’m sure she didn’t intend to walk in those clothes,” taking up for her twin as she always did. “Our heavy coats and boots are in the hall closet upstairs, sis. I’ll go get them.”
The twins rarely wore matching clothes anymore, but when they left the house in the jackets they had worn when they’d been teenagers, they looked like two peas in a pod. Although the calendar said it was April, and bright sunshine blanketed the estate, the brisk wind from the ocean reminded them that winter hadn’t given up yet.
Portia shuddered when they walked past the gazebo. “I thought Father had killed someone here last night. Who could he be threatening?”
“A better question is ‘Who’s threatening him?’ Most of the time, he’s a stranger to me. I often feel as if we not only grew up without a mother but without a father, too. He never has any time for us.”
“Or for anyone except his latest paramour.” Portia sighed. “He’s still dating Alannah Stafford, and I don’t think she has any intention of letting him go.”
“I’d hoped he had dumped her by now. But let’s forget unpleasant things. Let’s talk about that wonderful fiancé of yours.”
“He is wonderful! If anyone had told me six months ago that I would be in love and looking forward to not only having a husband but a daughter, too, I wouldn’t have believed them. After breaking up with Tad, I didn’t think I would ever trust another man, but Mick is so good for me, and I love Kaitlyn, too. I’ve always wanted a family of my own.”
“Well, you must have gotten all of the maternal genes. I can’t imagine myself being a mother. I like little kids, although I haven’t seen one yet that I wanted to take home with me. But I’m happy for you. When’s the wedding?”
“We haven’t set a date yet. We’re planning a small church wedding with just three attendants. Kaitlyn wants to be a flower girl, and of course you’ll be my maid of honor. As I told you, Mick asked his friend, Drew Lancaster, to be the best man. You remember Drew, don’t you?”
Staring straight ahead so Portia wouldn’t detect that she had more than a casual interest in Drew, Rissa said, “Yes, I met him during the investigation into Garrett McGraw’s death.”
A frigid gust of wind staggered the sisters as they walked arm in arm. Rissa had grown accustomed to a slightly milder climate and the strong blast chilled her to the bone.
Portia seemed less daunted by the strong gale, and she continued, “I wanted your help in choosing the dresses we’ll wear. We’ve never had the same tastes, and I need your input. We’ll have to shop in Portland—there are no bridal shops in Stoneley.”
“The logical thing would have been for you to come to the city to shop for your bridal attire. There won’t be as much choice up here.”
“I know, but Mick wants to keep the wedding simple. He’s a little put-off with the Blanchard wealth and social standing anyway, and I don’t want him intimidated by an expensive wedding. Detectives make a good salary, but he has a daughter to care for…and kids are expensive.”
“And where will you live?”
“Mick has an adorable little cottage overlooking the ocean. It’s small, but he’s adding another bedroom and a bathroom for us.” Portia looked quickly at her twin. “I’ve wondered if I’m leaving you in the lurch since I won’t be paying my share of the rent. You like the apartment so much—I hope you won’t have to give it up.”
“Don’t worry about that. The profits from my show will easily make up for your share of the rent.”
A tremor in her voice, Portia said, “It’s hard for me to imagine that you and I won’t be living together anymore. We’ve always been inseparable. Now I’ll be staying in Maine with a husband and a daughter, and you’ll be in New York by yourself. I wish you’d move back to Maine.”
Although Rissa had been having similar thoughts about being separated from Portia, she laughed nonchalantly. “Do you think I could ever be happy in Stoneley again? There probably aren’t more than a half dozen people in this area who have even seen a Broadway show, let alone have any idea of what it takes to write and produce one.” She shook her head, realizing that she sounded pretentious again. “I’ll miss being with you, sweetie. But you and I have to go our separate ways now. I need to be around people who understand me and my purpose in life.”
“I know! But it will be different,” Portia murmured.
“Very different! While I was driving last night I got a little nostalgic. I remembered so many things about us. Being a twin is wonderful. When we were little, I never bothered with a mirror. If I wanted to know what I looked like, I looked at you. And do you remember the time I wanted a new hairstyle, and while you were asleep, I cut your hair to see how I would look with short hair?”
“Do I remember? That’s the first time we ever had a fight. And I thought Aunt Winnie was going to spank you.” They both giggled remembering the experience.
With a grimace, Rissa said, “Instead of spanking me, she cut my hair, and she didn’t know any more about styling hair than I did. After I saw what you looked like, I’d made up my mind I didn’t want short hair, but I got it, anyway. Even now, I dread going for a trim—I’m afraid I’ll hate it like I did my first haircut.” They both giggled.
“And I never had any trouble buying a gift for you—I just bought something I liked.”
“But we didn’t always choose the same kind of clothes,” Rissa commented.
“That’s because we’re not entirely identical—we are separate people.”
“Well, it’s been a great ride while it lasted.”
“Oh, don’t talk like it’s all in the past, sis. Surely we’ll have more fun times together.”
“Count on it!” Rissa agreed. “I’ll leave your room in the apartment the way it is now—mess and all,” she added with a grin because Portia’s room was always cluttered. By contrast, in Rissa’s bedroom, everything had its place. “It will be ready whenever you want to bring your family to visit.”
They came to the end of the cliff walk. “Let’s go back through the spruce forest,” Portia said. They turned to cross Bay View Road but paused when they saw a police cruiser approaching.
“Well, well!” Rissa said with a teasing glance at her sister. “Here comes that wonderful man now.”
Portia shook her head. “That isn’t Mick. It’s his partner, Drew.”
The large cruiser slid to a halt and the window lowered before Rissa got control of her emotions.
“Hello, ladies,” Drew said in a deep-timbered, composed voice that Rissa remembered all too well. He was ruggedly handsome with short, chestnut-brown hair and assessing dark eyes that were presently flickering with amusement. “I think I need to visit an optometrist—I’m seeing double.”
Bending forward until her eyes were on a level with his, Portia said, “Oh, you tease. This is my sister, Rissa.”
“It’s great to see you again, Rissa.”
“Same here,” Rissa replied evenly, having regained her composure. “I understand we’ll have the responsibility of keeping the bride and groom cool, calm and collected during their wedding.”
“So I’ve been told, but who’s going to keep us from being nervous?”
“We’ll have to lean on each other,” Rissa answered, irritated because she was enjoying this good-natured bantering. But her smile faded when she thought about Drew’s small-town position—he could never be husband material. Like oil and water—city and small town wouldn’t mix. She was determined to put him out of her mind.
“What are you doing out here?” Portia asked. “Not on official business, I hope.”
“Actually I am. We had an anonymous tip about an altercation between a man and a woman here in the gazebo last night. The message came from a cell phone and we couldn’t trace the call. Mick was busy on another case so he sent me to investigate. What do you know about it?”
Rissa cleared her throat and pulled on her left earlobe, one of their secret communication codes. Portia looked at her quickly, having gotten the message that she shouldn’t give out any information.
“Nothing happened that should concern the cops,” Portia said. “Just a family matter—and I’m sure that Father wouldn’t want any publicity about it. He’s seen about all the police and reporters he wants to during the past few months.”
“Well, I’ll take a look anyway, if you don’t mind. Is the gate locked?”
“No, it shouldn’t be. During the daytime, it’s usually open for the help and delivery service to come and go,” Rissa said.
Putting the cruiser into motion, Drew said, “Enjoy your walk.”
He had intercepted the secret message that passed between the two women. Mick had mentioned that the twins were super close. He hoped his buddy wasn’t making a mistake marrying a twin who might keep secrets from her husband. Not that Drew was in the market for a wife, but he didn’t think he would want to marry a woman who was identical in appearance to her sister, even if she were as pretty as Rissa. And considering the shady circumstances involving the Blanchards now, he had better steer clear of any personal involvement with any of them.
“Do you suppose he’ll find anything that might cause more trouble for the family?” Rissa asked anxiously as Drew drove away. “I’ve experienced all of the crises I want in the past few months.”
“I don’t suppose there’s anything to find and Father won’t talk. But it does worry me. Mick doesn’t say much, but I know he isn’t satisfied about the death of that P.I., Garrett McGraw. Although he’s convinced that the police don’t have all the facts, the case is closed.”
They walked home in silence.
Rissa’s impression of Drew Lancaster was that he would be a hard man to fool. Judging from the way his pleasant expression had stilled and become serious, he had obviously caught her warning signal to Portia. Would he interpret it as proof that the Blanchards had something to hide? Whatever the family had under wraps, Rissa figured that this detective wouldn’t stop until he found out what it was.
TWO
Drew Lancaster’s cruiser was parked near the gazebo, but he wasn’t in sight when the twins approached Blanchard Manor from the woods. As they rounded the corner of the house, they saw the detective strolling along the driveway leading from the house to Bay View Road. He stared intently at the ground. Portia pulled Rissa into a secluded nook where they could watch Drew without being seen. He wore a dark brown leather jacket over his neat tan trousers. Tall and muscular, Drew carried himself with a commanding stance of self-confidence.
He had a camera slung over his shoulder and, as they watched, he stopped suddenly, lifted the camera and snapped several photos of that spot. He checked the screen of his digital camera, and, ostensibly satisfied, he moved on, with his eyes still watching the ground before him. Portia turned worried eyes on her twin when he stooped and picked up an item.
“I didn’t check out the driveway this morning. What do you suppose he’s found?” she whispered.
Rissa shook her head.
The sound of a car coming up the hill reached their ears and soon their father’s Jaguar came into view. He was driving at his usual breakneck speed. He honked the horn angrily when he saw Drew. He swerved quickly and Drew jumped several feet to avoid being accidentally run down.
The twins exchanged troubled glances and reached the garage just as Ronald wheeled his Jaguar into his parking place and stepped out of the car, his eyes blazing with fury.
Although he was just a few years shy of turning sixty, Ronald was still as handsome and vigorous as he had been in his youth. Jerking a thumb toward Drew, he demanded, “What’s he doing here?”
“Good to see you, too, Father,” Rissa muttered sarcastically, but if Ronald heard, he ignored her.
“He said someone called about the commotion in the gazebo last night,” Portia said.
His dark face irate, he lifted his arm as if he might strike her. Rissa choked back a terrified cry. Although Ronald had never displayed any love or tenderness toward any of his six daughters, she’d never known him to lay a hand on any of them.
“Did you call that boyfriend of yours?”
“No, I didn’t,” Portia gasped and stepped closer to Rissa.
“What did happen in the gazebo, Father?” Rissa asked, attempting to deflect his displeasure from Portia.
Ronald’s eyes glowered down at his twin daughters, but he lowered his hand.
“None of your business,” he said, before he brushed by them and entered the house.
He was detained when a firm hand grabbed his shoulder. Rissa couldn’t imagine that Drew could have so quickly covered the distance from where her father had almost run him down to the front of the house. Ronald turned furious eyes on Drew, but he couldn’t break the ironclad hold on his shoulder.
Drew’s eyes were blazing with fury. When he spoke, his voice was quiet, but it held an undertone of cold contempt. “You’re driving a little reckless this morning, aren’t you?”
“It’s my own property. I can drive as fast as I want to.”
“Yes, you can, but you probably won’t like it if I charge you with wanton endangerment.”
“You wouldn’t dare! I could have that badge of yours in a hurry if you make such a charge.”
“I doubt that, Mr. Blanchard. You might not know it, but you don’t have the influence in this community that you once had.” He removed his hand. “I’m warning you—don’t try to interfere with our investigation.”
Without any apology to Portia and Rissa, Drew walked purposefully to his car and drove away. What could he say to them? Their father was probably a murderer, or at best, he had a lot of explaining to do.
