The Sound of Secrets

“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.