Which Twin? by Elane Osborn

Author:Elane Osborn [Osborn, Elane]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: suspense
Publisher: Silhouette Intimate Moments
Published: 2001-04-18T05:00:00+00:00

Logan frowned as he placed his cell phone back in his pocket. The call had made less of a lie out of his excuse to leave Rose and Grace alone together, but it hadn’t made him happy.

He glanced at his watch. Twenty minutes had elapsed. Enough time, he hoped, for Rose to have gotten some explanation from Grace. Turning, he made his way back to the room. When he entered, he noticed that the tray on the coffee table had been replaced by an open photo album. Grace was in her chair, staring out the window behind Rose. She didn’t look toward him, even as he approached.

Rose, however, looked up from the album, her face white, her eyes wide and dark with a mixture of fear and confusion. Logan’s heart began to pound as he hurried toward her.

“You all right?”

She started to shake her head, stopped, took a deep breath. “Yeah,” she said, then closed the album.

“What’s been—”

Rose stopped his question with a shake of her head, then stood and turned to the old woman, sitting so very still in her chair.

“Aunt Grace?” Rose said softly. The woman didn’t move. “Aunt Grace,” Rose repeated, slightly louder.

At this, the white head swiveled, and the blue eyes met Rose’s with an expression of mild curiosity.

“I have to leave now,” Rose said. “Logan and I really enjoyed the tea. Did you mean what you said, that I could keep this for a while?”

The pale eyes flicked to the album, then back to Rose before Grace nodded. “Of course you can.”

“I washed the cups and saucers,” Rose said. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“No, dear. I think it’s time I took a little nap. You’ll both come back for another visit, though. Won’t you?”

After assuring the woman they would do this, Rose motioned to Logan to follow her out of the room. Halfway down the hall, he started to ask Rose about the album she carried. She shook her head. “Not here,” was all she would say. When they reached Anna’s room, Rose walked to the bed and opened the album. Her face was still pale.

“I want you to look at this photo while I get my wallet. I didn’t want anyone to see my driver’s license, so I hid it with my suitcase.”

Logan studied the album while she headed toward the closet. The photograph she’d indicated was a black-and-white newspaper clipping. Of the ten people featured in the group shot, he recognized three of the men in the back row.

In the center, smiling the winning smile so much like Chas’s, stood dark-haired Charles Benedict, flanked by his two sons, Robert and Joseph. Logan stared at the features of the young men, surprised to find he’d forgotten how much each of them, in their own distinctive way, had resembled their father.

The fourth man in the back row was a tall, lanky fellow with oval wire-frame glasses. The six people sitting in the front row, three girls and three boys, all appeared to be in their late teens or early twenties.

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