She couldn’t let her twin mess this up. Not after all the work. “Just pull yourself together, and go through with the plan. You think he’ll marry you—us, right? Now that the competition’s out of the picture.”

“But it isn’t,” Sophia whined. “He’s been with Rebecca Travers.”

“I know!” Julia spat out, then tried to tamp down her rising frustration. Why was her sister being such a pain? “I’m dealing with that. Rebecca’s a lot smarter than Megan was, and James dumped her. For Megan. She won’t be fooled, won’t trust him again.” Julia would make sure of it. Because Sophia was right—Rebecca was a problem, a serious problem. But Julia knew how to deal with problems. “We’ll just keep plying him with sex.” She arched an eyebrow. She and Sophia had both been in James’s bed, and it hadn’t been a problem . . . yet . . . But that might change. She sensed the difference in James. Was he just suspicious because of the recent murders, or was it because of that damned Rebecca Travers attempting to turn his head? The problem was that the more Sophia and Julia took turns sleeping with James, the more he could notice that they were different. Though physically they were nearly identical, their personalities were not perfect mirror images. That’s where the problem might lie, Julia suspected. It would be their mannerisms or their temperament or their sense of humor that were different and might tip him off. She’d reasoned, originally, that if he was with each of them equally, he might just think “Sophia” was moody and ever-changing, but she’d miscalculated. James was sharper than she’d first imagined, and fooling him was getting more difficult as time wore on. And now Sophia was balking.

Not good. Not good at all.

Something had clearly changed. Sophia wasn’t playing along. Instead, she stared at her twin with round, accusing eyes. “You said, ‘was,’” she said, in a voice so low Julia had trouble hearing it.

“What?” What was she talking about? Julia’s muscles tightened.

“You said, “‘Rebecca’s a lot smarter than Megan was.’ Like Megan doesn’t exist anymore,” Sophia said, obviously getting upset. “Like she’s dead.”

“Oh, God, Sophia, get over it. A slip of the tongue. A mistake, damn it!”

“Was it?”

“Yes!” Julia let out a long sigh, but inside she was panicking. Sophia’s new attitude was more than worrisome; it was dangerous! “Of course it was. Oh, for the love of—you said you wanted proof, right? That Megan’s still alive? Well, let’s go.” She was already reaching for her gloves and hat, her mind spinning.

“Now?”

“Yes. Just let me get the damned wig. I wouldn’t want that goon in room five to get smart about us.”

“Phil?” Sophia pulled a face.

“Yeah, that’s the one. Dabrowski.”