The Look-Alike by Erica Spindler

Author:Erica Spindler [Erica Spindler]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: St. Martin's Publishing Group
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

7:40 A.M.

The scream of the cell phone awakened her. Sienna bolted upright, and grabbed the phone off the coffee table. “H’lo?”

“What the hell were you thinking?”

It took her a moment to get her bearings. “Brad?”

“Yes, ‘Brad.’ Who the hell else would it be?”

“Stop swearing at me, and tell me what’s wrong.”

“I just got off the phone with my mother. Apparently, the police have been by to question her.”

Sienna pushed the hair away from her face and stood. She made her way to the kitchen, thoughts as much on coffee as on the call. “What about?”

“In regards to Madison Robie’s murder.”

Sienna stopped in her tracks. “What?”

“That’s right. They’re exploring other avenues, and apparently, someone in the family suggested my mother might have information about the murder.… Considering her reported animosity toward your mother.”

Sienna frowned. “I still don’t understand what your mother could have to do with Madison’s murder.”

“Not a damn thing! It has to do with you, Sienna.”

She switched the coffee machine on. “I still don’t under—” But then she did understand, and bit the words back. After that anonymous caller, she had urged Randy to at least explore “other avenues.” And he’d warned her it would mean investigating her family.

Her cheeks heated. And what had she done? Offered up her mother’s paranoid delusions as that other avenue.

It was her fault.

“I’m sorry, Brad. I got this phone call. The caller said I was the one who was supposed to die. I went to Randy with it and he—”

He cut her off. “I don’t care. All these years my family’s put up with Viv’s crazy claims. Her letters and calls. Her threats. The private investigators she’s hired. And so have I. But now you, Sienna? It’s too much.”

“I’m your family, too, Brad.”

“Are you? Right now you’re acting a lot more like Viv than like me or Dad.”

The blow struck its mark, and she flinched. Nothing he could have said could have hurt her more. She wanted to deny it, but couldn’t—for heaven’s sake, last night she was afraid to sleep in her own bed.

“You remember Margie White?” he asked.

“Dad’s old office manager?”

“Yeah. Police called on her, too. I heard from her a couple days ago, but didn’t put two and two together. They’re investigating Dad, Sienna. Dad,” he said again, emphasizing the irony of it. “He must be rolling over in his grave.”

Sienna crossed to a chair and sat down hard. She fought against dissolving into tears. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for all this to happen.”

“Well, it did. Call your pet monkey off, Sienna. Do it now.”

He hung up, and Sienna was left with the phone to her ear, the sudden silence mocking her. She laid the phone on the table, and went back to the coffee maker. She went through the steps, pouring the water, measuring out the grounds.

Before the coffee even began to drip, the landline rang. She snatched it up. “Hello?” Met with dead air, she tried again. “Hello?”

A soft click.

Her hands began to shake. She held

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