Page 22 of Twin Jeopardy

Ten years ago

“ILEFTDINNERfor you in the refrigerator. Leave the plate covered and heat it in the microwave for three minutes.” Mom fussed about the kitchen, wiping down the counter and putting stray glasses and silverware in the dishwasher as she talked. “If you need anything, call the Wilsons next door for help. Don’t open the door to strangers. And don’t stay up too late watching TV. You know you have school tomorrow.”

“Mom, I know how to look after myself. I’m not some little kid,” Vince protested. At fifteen, he towered over his five-foot, two-inch mom, and was the same height as his dad. Any day now, he’d probably start shaving.

“I know, dear.” His mom stilled, looking as if she wasn’t happy about this news. “I just want you to be careful. I couldn’t cope if anything happened to you.”

Inwardly, Vince cringed, though he tried not to show how much he resented statements like this. He got it—his parents had lost one child and were terrified of losing another. They were hyperprotective of him, so much so that even leaving him alone for a few hours while they enjoyed a rare evening out with friends was a big deal. But none of his friends had as many rules and curfews as he did. It wasn’t fair. But the one time he had tried to point this out, his mother had gotten all teary and said it wasn’t fair that Valerie disappeared and they never knew what happened to her. After that, he gave up trying to reason with his parents and settled for breaking their rules whenever he could. Tonight, for instance, his friend Jackson Greenway was coming over. Their plan was to smoke a joint and watch a porn video Jackson had stolen from his older brother Parker, who was nineteen and had his own condo. They were going to order pizza and maybe call these sisters Jackson had met. His parents would be horrified if they knew any of this, which was kind of the point.

He hugged his mom. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ll be safe here. You and Dad have a good time.”

She gave him a wobbly smile and patted his back. “You’re a fine son,” she said. “Your father and I are so proud of you. You know that, don’t you?”

He had done a lot to make his parents proud. He made good grades and was a top player on a regional youth lacrosse team. When he did break the rules, he made sure not to get caught, and he had never gotten into serious trouble. It didn’t make up for Valerie being gone, but it was something.

He waved from the front door as they pulled out of the driveway, then slipped out his phone and called Jackson to tell him the coast was clear.

Twenty minutes later, Jackson’s mother’s Camry eased down the street, the throbbing bass from the stereo rattling the windows. Six months older than Vince, Jackson had his driver’s license, and his parents let him borrow his mother’s car whenever he wanted, as long as he topped off the gas tank.

Jackson—taller even than Vince, with long, thin arms and legs and blond hair past his shoulders—parked at the curb, then exited the car with the pizza box in one hand and a DVD and a bag of weed in the other. “Are we ready to party?” he asked.

“Ready.” Vince held the door open wide. “We have the place to ourselves for at least four hours.”

“Sweet!” Jackson breezed in and set the pizza on the bar that separated the kitchen from the living room. “And look what I got to go with our pizza.” He fished in the pockets of his baggy cargo shorts and pulled out two cans of beer. “I snagged them from the garage refrigerator on my way out. My dad will never miss them.”

“Let me grab some plates for the pizza,” Vince said. “I’m starving.”

They had popped the tops on the beer and were digging into their first slices of pizza when the Shepherd’s house phone rang.

“Don’t answer it,” Jackson said. “It’s probably just some phone solicitor or a politician asking for your vote.”

“I have to answer it,” Vince said. “It might be my mom, with some last-minute instruction about dinner or something.” He moved to the phone on the kitchen wall and picked up the receiver. “Hello?”

“Hello? Vince, is that you?”

A cold shiver raced up his spine. “Hello?” he said. “Who is this?” His mind played tricks on him sometimes. He would be in a crowded hallway at school and would think he’d heard Valerie’s voice, only to turn around and discover it was someone else. Once, after a lacrosse game, he had followed a teenage girl all the way to the parking lot because something about how she looked from the back was so familiar. Then she had turned around and spotted him, and he had to pretend he was merely retrieving something from his car.

“It’s Valerie. Don’t you remember me?” The person on the other end of the line began to sob. “I need you to help me, Vince.”

“Where are you?” he asked. Then: “Who are you, really?”

The line went dead. Vince stared at the receiver in his hand.

“Dude, your face went all white,” Jackson said. “You’re not going to faint, are you?”

“How do you call back the last number you talked to?” he asked.

“Star-six-nine.” Jackson’s chair scraped loudly against the floor as he shoved it back and stood. “What’s going on? Who was that on the phone?”

“I don’t know.” He punched in *69 and waited while the phone rang. And rang. And rang. After ten rings, he hung up.

Jackson was standing beside him now. “You don’t look so hot,” he said. “Who was that calling?”

“She said she was Valerie.”

Jackson’s eyes widened. “Your dead sister?”

“We don’t know for sure she’s dead, but yeah. She knew my name, and she said she was Valerie.”

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