Page 45 of The House of Cross

“I thought you were taking a break from Ryan Malcomb,” I said.

“I was. I did,” she said. “More than a week. You were right. It gave me a new perspective. Just look.”

Sampson was turning the pages. “Malcomb was adopted. Tried to find his real parents.”

“And then he had the adoption files resealed?” I said, reading over his shoulder. “How did he get that done?”

“Money under the table,” Bree said. “Had to be.”

Sampson turned another page. “The birth certificate for Ryan Felix Malcomb. No doubt about where he came from now.”

“Salmon, Idaho?” I asked.

“Yes,” Bree said, grinning like Willow had in anticipation of dessert. “Now look at the next one.”

John turned another page in the file.

We both stared at it.

Sampson whistled.

“Right?” Bree said.

“Sean Malcomb Wallace,” I said. “Is that the brother?”

“Different name, but definitely the twin. Took the last name of the mom’s family, I guess. But look closely at the page that follows. The DNA tests.”

We did. I didn’t quite understand it until I saw a notice below each one:You have an identical twin in the database.

At that point I got confused. I looked up at Bree. “But you’ve known about Ryan’s twin for quite a while now.”

“Alex,” she said impatiently, “think of it another way. They are, or were, genetic copies of each other. All the evidence says Ryan Malcomb died in that crash outside Elko—the ID, the vehicle, even the DNA. But now there’s doubt.”

Sampson nodded, starting to smile. “You think Sean Malcomb was in that vehicle and not Ryan.”

“If they were identical twins, sharing the exact same DNA, then I think it’s possible, especially with someone as nefarious as M.”

“So, what? Did Ryan take on Sean’s persona?” I asked. “If so, where is he?”

“I’m still looking under every name he might have used.”

Sampson said, “What about the parents of the twins? Ryan might have contacted them after getting the papers unsealed. Or Sean might’ve.”

Bree brightened. “That’s an angle I didn’t consider. I mean, you’re right—if they’re alive, they just might know what became of Sean Malcomb Wallace.”

CHAPTER 32

Athens, Georgia

PROFESSOR NATHAN CARVER OFthe University of Georgia School of Law finished up a lecture on the separation of powers in the U.S. Constitution. Forty-five, a full-blooded American Indian, and a stirring speaker, Carver engaged with several inspired students afterward, then excused himself. He had to meet an old and dear friend for dinner.

The professor hurried to an off-campus bistro, where Elaine Holmes, a fellow graduate of the law school and a very successful attorney in Washington, DC, was waiting.

“Elaine, you look fantastic!” Carver said after giving her a kiss on each cheek.

“It’s a miracle what makeup and a good dye job can do these days,” she said. “But look at you! You’ve lost weight!”

“Twenty-five pounds since the divorce,” he said proudly.

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