Sophia actually grinned, a glimmer of her old self shining through. “Smart? Not a chance.”

“You call him ‘Phil’ now?”

“He told me to.”

“Yeah, but you never told me.” Shit! That was the problem. Sophia was getting sloppy, and people were getting suspicious. Several people at the inn had looked at her strangely, and Willow had certainly begun to figure out that something was up with Sophia. It wouldn’t be too long until someone—possibly the damned cops or even James—realized what was going on. And what would happen when Sophia actually married James? Was there a chance she would betray Julia, turn on her? Convince James that Julia was the true, the only bad seed? What would happen when the “we” became “I”? That would never work. “We have to keep our stories straight,” Julia reminded Sophia. “To make sure that when we talk to someone, we let the other one know. Otherwise, this will never work.”

“I do! With James, at least.” But there was something in her voice that gave the lie away. Sadly, Sophia was becoming a liability.

“Good. Remember. I need to know. Everything.” Julia was already walking to the bathroom to grab her wig, glasses, and fat suit. She only had one outfit that worked with the larger size, but it didn’t matter, because she had the coat that she always wore and that seemed normal with the winter weather. “I’ll drive,” she said once she’d slipped the glasses over her face and the disguise was in place.

“Of course.” Sophia slipped on her own coat. “Aren’t you always in charge?”

“Always.”

From habit, Sophia tucked her hair into her silver knit cap, exposing the freckles on the back of her neck. Those damned freckles! Though Julia and Sophia were born identical twins, their twenty-odd years of life experiences had made them different. Sophia had freckles from sun exposure, Julia did not. Sophia had broken a toe, and it hadn’t healed properly, Julia had not. Sophia had never had female problems, Julia had. But the freckles—how many times had Julia warned her sister to wear makeup over them and cover them with her hair. Right now, they were exposed and visible. Jesus! What a huge mistake. Was Sophia a moron?

Julia scooped up the keys she’d left on the kitchen table; then they were out the door. While Sophia was slipping into the passenger side and adjusting her seat belt, Julia double-checked her pocket, her fingers brushing something hard and cold and ready.

Perfect, she thought. It was finally time to deal with her suddenly holier-than-thou sister. This day had been bound to come, she thought, backing out of the parking spot and spying Dabrowski and that miserable, growling Larry in her rearview mirror. She just hadn’t thought that it would come this soon.

CHAPTER 47

CHAPTER 47