The Good Twin(57)

“Mrs. Harris?”

“Yes?”

“I spoke to you earlier, and we were disconnected. It was a problem with my phone. I’m sorry.”

“How can I help you, dear?”

“You said your son, John, was killed in the Gulf War.”

“That’s right.”

“Do you remember if, back before he enlisted, he was dating a woman named Sasha Holcolm?”

“Do you mean Susan Holcolm?”

Did I? I’d later ask Mallory if our mother had another name, but how many Holcolms dating a John Harris could there be? “Yes, that’s who I mean.”

“You’re looking for the other John Harris. Our sons were friends. Ironic, isn’t it, both boys with the same name and both died in that war?” I heard a deep sigh. “Such a tragedy.”

“Do you know if the other boy’s parents are still in the area?”

“No, they moved a long time ago. I don’t even know where. We weren’t friends with them. Just our children were friends.”

“Do you happen to know their first names?”

She was quiet for a moment. “Maybe Eileen? Or Ellen? I think that may have been the mother. I don’t know his father’s name.”

I pressed my hands to my forehead. This search was heading toward impossible. I thanked Mrs. Harris, then got back to work.



At 3:00 p.m., I arrived at the firm of Winslow and Goldfarb. Their office was in midtown, not far from the gallery, in a sleek high-rise on Park Avenue. I was ushered into Goldfarb’s office as soon as I arrived. Before she left the room, his assistant offered me coffee or water, but I declined. I didn’t expect to be there long.

“How’s your father doing?” Goldfarb asked as soon as I sat down.

I shook my head. “He has hospice care now. It’s going to be soon.”

“I’m so sorry, Charlotte. How can I help you today?”

“It’s about my prenup.”

“Are you still thinking about divorce?”

If only it were that simple, I thought. I held out my right hand and pointed to my palm. “See this scar?”

I noted a look of confusion on Goldfarb’s face as he picked up my hand and traced the scar with his finger, then nodded.

“This conversation is covered by attorney-client privilege, right?”

“Of course.”

“You can’t say anything to my father.”

“Naturally.”

“I have an identical twin sister.”

I held back a laugh as Goldfarb’s eyes bulged. “Her name is Mallory Holcolm, and she both looks and sounds exactly like me. But I got this scar when I was twelve years old.”

“Why don’t you want your father to know this?”

I sighed. “It’s complicated. But sometime after my father passes away, she and Ben are going to come see you. She’s going to pretend to be me, and tell you that she wants to tear up the prenuptial agreement.”

“Well, I’m certainly glad you’ve warned me. I’ll make sure from now on to always check the hand.”

“I want you to do what she asks. And pretend to be surprised. Maybe even try to talk her out of it.”

Goldfarb’s eyebrows shot up, and his mouth dropped open.

“You’re the only one who can revoke it. It won’t be valid otherwise.”

“That’s the point. I want Ben to believe that it’s no longer in effect when in fact it is.”

He leaned forward on his desk, his chin cupped in his hand. “You’re asking me to participate in a deception.”

“It’s Ben who’d be trying to trick you. You’ll just be preventing him from succeeding.”

He nodded. “I’m comfortable looking at it that way. But Charlotte, are you sure you can’t tell me what’s going on? I’m worried about you.”

I thought about explaining everything to Goldfarb, then decided to hold back. It was now a police matter. Better not to involve anyone unnecessarily. “Thank you, Steve. There isn’t anything for you to concern yourself with. I’m fine. Really.” As I spoke those words, I fervently hoped it was true.



I returned from my father’s bedside a little earlier that evening, and instead of slipping under the covers of my bed, doing my best to avoid Ben, I sat down next to him on our couch and told him I missed him, that I missed making love to him. I had to force myself not to gag as I said those words. I wanted this charade to end as soon as possible, and for that, Ben needed to know about my father’s trust, and which lawyers he should turn to after he believed Clark had succeeded in killing me.

I led him into our bedroom and slowly undressed before him, then threw my clothes on a chair. We fell onto the bed, and within minutes, Ben was inside me. I felt nothing—less than nothing—but I pretended to be aroused. When it was over, I headed to the shower. I knew Ben hated messiness. I knew he’d hang up my clothes. I knew he’d see the manila folder with my father’s trust inside. And I knew he would examine it.





CHAPTER 40

I’d given up on the search for our paternal grandparents. Maybe I’d go back to it later, when I didn’t have so much on my plate. But I still yearned to know more about my birth mother. Mallory had confirmed that her birth certificate listed our mother’s name as Susan, and she’d told me what she knew of her, but I wanted to know the woman before she’d become worn down by her hard life. I called Mallory. “Wouldn’t you like to know what our mother was like before she had you?”