Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 56107 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 224(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56107 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 224(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
What is he doing? I step into the foyer. There’s a little kitchen with a farm-style sink off to my left and a living room to the right. In the living room, there’s a ton of medical equipment next to a red-and-pink floral armchair.
It’s only ten feet away, so I walk over for a better look.
The room has all sorts of doilies on the coffee table and bookshelf. At the far end is a hutch with dozens of photos.
Two boys in baseball uniforms.
Two boys holding up fish next to a lake.
Two boys in graduation caps and gowns.
Holy shit. That’s Carter. And that’s another Carter! My eyes go wide, and I turn just as Logan comes into the room.
“You really have a twin?” I ask.
“Yes. For fuck’s sake.”
“Is he still alive?”
“I don’t fucking know, Mila. It’s a lot of blood.” Logan points to a hallway on the other side of the living room. The lights are on, and I can see drops of something on the blond hardwood floor.
“So Carter was alive until today, but not anymore?” I ask.
“Mila!”
“Sorry. Sorry.” I hold up my hands. “I’m just trying to process. So this whole time, it was you being you, and Carter being Carter?”
“Yes.”
“But I saw Carter talking to me outside my house, pretending to be you on his phone.”
“When?” Logan asks, his tone short.
I hold up my index finger and pull out my phone, toggling to my call history. “See. Right here. He was outside my house in a car. I was in my living room, watching his lips moving to what you were saying.”
Logan shakes his head. “That weasel. He must’ve taken my cell when we got into that fight.”
“So you didn’t make this call?” I ask.
“No. I didn’t talk to you again until you called and asked me to come over. By then, I’d figured out my phone was lost and had it replaced.”
Oh shit. Oh shit! “So Carter was pretending to be you.”
Logan runs his hands through his neatly combed hair. “Yeah. I guess he was. At least for that one call.”
“But it was you who showed up to my house that day after he wrecked my car, right?”
“Yes. Of course. How else would I know about the damage or to write you a check for ten grand?”
A very good point. Also, he did write me a check in Logan Strike’s name. It’s one thing to pretend to be someone else, but another to have a bank account under a fake name. “So all that was you, including the dinner at Chez M. Jean?”
“Yes.”
My mind whirs. I suddenly feel bad. Really bad. Because if that was Logan, then I really did mess up his life. On the other hand…
“You can’t blame me for what I did, Logan. Carter pretended to be you, though I don’t know why. And he led me on, filmed me, and did all that other crap. He’s a complete con artist.”
“He’s not a con artist,” Logan says. “He’s always lived in a fantasy world ever since we were little.” He blows out a long, heavy breath. “He used to tell our teachers things like he couldn’t do his homework because I was abducted by aliens, and he had to rescue me. Or he’d tell the teacher that I did my homework, and since we’re genetically the same person, he saw no point in doing his, too.”
“That’s actually kind of cute.”
“No, Mila. It’s not cute,” Logan snaps. “Not after a lifetime of this garbage. It’s the opposite of cute.”
The muted pain in Logan’s blue eyes reminds me of a man who’s burned out emotionally. “Is it true that you guys had a falling-out over your fiancée?”
“Yes. Carter and his goddamned lies. He told her I was planning to leave her at the altar because I’d found another woman. She apparently believed him and then slept with him as an act of revenge.”
I crinkle my nose. “Yikes.”
“Now I think maybe it was my fault.”
“How?” I ask.
“It’s like with you.” He throws his arms to his sides. “I didn’t want to tell you the truth about Carter, and look what happened.”
Oh. I get it. “You never told your fiancée that Carter is bat-shit crazy.”
“No.”
My heart softens. I think back to when I first met Logan, and he told me he didn’t believe in bad-mouthing his brother.
“I’m really sorry, Logan. For everything.” I have to call Sofie and tell her we need to set the story straight.
“It’s not your fault,” Logan says. “It’s mine. And now Carter is gone and…”
“What do you think happened?”
“I don’t know, but I’ll have to let the police handle it.”
Logan said there’s blood in the hallway. Is it fake blood? Is Carter filming us right now? “Please don’t hate me for saying this, but what if this isn’t real? What if Carter is just setting all this up?”