he slips out of the room. When I hear the front door shut, I get up and throw the lock before heading to the shower.
I take my time getting ready, noticing the extra flush in my cheeks that might be beard burn. Or maybe it’s just happiness. Even if I failed at my goal to stay single, I failed in the most spectacularly delicious way with a guy who’s amazing.
More importantly, I trust him. I trust him to let me stand on my own two feet and be the person I’m meant to be. Have I ever been with anyone like that? My brain scans the rolodex of men I’ve dated. Nope, no one comes close.
But it’s less about them and more about me finally learning to make good choices. That’s the best part of all this.
Since my morning is off to such a sunny start, I pull on my favorite champagne-colored dress that Val says makes my eyes sparkle. Leaving my hair loose the way Dean likes it, I throw together a quick breakfast scramble with egg whites and tomatoes to save me from spending money and calories at the coffee shop. I even make my own coffee in a reusable mug that Lana gave me yesterday.
I don’t care who dies in a movie as long as the dog lives.
I’m smiling about it as I walk the sun-dappled cinder path to the lodge. It’s a quarter to nine, and the June sunshine bathes the basalt cliffs in a red-gold glow. Even the junipers look brighter this morning, with tufts of blue berries bouncing on the breeze. I reach the main lodge and push through the side door off the corridor to my office. I’m halfway down the hall when Cooper’s voice rings from the doorway next to mine.
“Maybe he didn’t know it isn’t her in the picture,” he says. “Could be he got the wrong twin by mistake.”
I freeze at the edge of his door. Twin? We make up three percent of the world’s population but come on. He has to be talking about me.
Heartbeat thudding in my ears, I take a small step forward. I’m not trying to spy. I legit have to pass by to reach my office, but yeah, I’m curious who he’s talking to.
Cooper has his back to the door, and Amy Lovelin stands facing him with arms folded over her chest. She’s not in her cop clothes and looks sharp in slim black jeans and a white button-down with the sleeves rolled to the elbows. Her inner cop must sense me there, because she looks up and frowns.
“Vanessa. Hey.”
Cooper whirls around, mask slipping into place just a few seconds after I register surprise in his eyes. “Morning, Vanessa. You’re early.”
I glance at my watch. It’s ten minutes to nine, but that’s nothing new. “Were you guys talking about the postcard or something?”
Cooper opens his mouth to answer, but Amy beats him to it. “We were discussing the attacks on Juniper Ridge and how the assailant seems zeroed in on you specifically.”
Interesting. Is it just me, or did she not really answer the question?
Cooper looks uneasy, and his posture’s ramrod straight instead of slouchy like normal. He studies me like he’s searching for words. “Have you seen Dean this morning?”
“About an hour ago.” I decide to leave it at that and not mention he spent the night at my place. “How come?”
“Just curious if he said anything about…anything.”
Huh? “About what?”
Amy clears her throat. “Are you doing all right, Vanessa? No new threats or anything unusual happening?”
Okay, now they’re creeping me out. Something’s niggling the back of my brain, something I can’t quite grab.
It hits me like a sucker punch. “Wait. You said something about getting the wrong twin. Did something happen to Valerie? Is she in trouble or hurt or—”
“No!” Amy steps forward, shouldering past Cooper. “Your sister is safe and healthy in Paris right now.”
My mouth goes dry. “How did you know my sister’s in Paris?”
She doesn’t miss a beat. “Dean’s kept me apprised of all relevant details.” Her expression is perfect cop-neutral, but something in her eyes tells me there’s more to the story. Why would Dean need to share where my sister lives?
Cooper’s brow is furrowed, and he keeps throwing glances at Amy. “Is Dean on his way in?”
“I—yeah, sometime in the next hour.” Why the hell is no one being straight with me? I try again. “What’s going on here?” My voice comes out squeaky and I hate it. “What aren’t