Page 40 of Double Take

“I’m such an idiot,” she muttered.

“You shouldn’t blame yourself. Hammond is very good at what he does,” Rogers said.

He’d been uncharacteristically good in bed. She remembered her husband as a selfish lover, uncaring about her needs. As John, he’d focused on her pleasure. Another way to snow her?

“That’s why we need your help to locate him,” Glenn said.

“I told you. He went to the inn.” It should have been the first place they looked. Willow Wood only had one inn. Where else would a visitor stay?Unless he hooked up with a stupid woman who invited him to stay in her cottage.

“The Happy Night Inn. Another agent is there now,” Rogers said.

“Only one?” Why send two agents to bring her in for questioning and one to apprehend Mark? That seemed odd.

“Marshall can be very…persuasive.”

Persuasive as in threatening? Mark could get hurt? She didn’t want to see him killed or shot! Her heart hammered. The men escorting her were armed. Under the porch light, the bulge under their jackets had been unmistakable.I never should have left the cottage.She was getting a bad feeling. They hadn’t given her a good feeling, but the foreboding and dread had worsened.

“If you know where he is and can take him into custody, why do you need me?”

“We have questions that need answers.”

“I don’t know anything.”

“You know more than you think.” Rogers shot her a sideways glance. “We offered to talk at the cottage.”

She disliked the way he tried to make this her fault. Yes, she’d resisted letting them in at first, but as soon as they’d dropped the bombshell, there’d been no more talk of talking. They’d rushed her out of the cottage so fast, she’d forgotten to turn off the oven.

The cobbler would be a charred, blackened mess. The steaks were on the counter. Rusty would find them and enjoy a feast fit for a king. She wasn’t the only one Mark had fooled. The cat had loved him, and he had genuinely seemed to like him, too. For a man who disliked animals in general, and hated cats in particular, he’d hidden his feelings well.

She eyed her escorts. Their caginess, the lack of transparency, and weapons unnerved her. An aura of danger surrounded them. Despite his many lies and faults, Mark, past and present, had never, ever laid a hand on her. She’d never felt physically threatened by him, but these men exuded menace. How did she know that they had told her the truth? Had she been too quick to believe them?

The change in personality. His affection for the cat. The way he made love. The nuts—he’d eaten nuts. All circumstantial, but, added together, it made a strong case for John being a clone.

“I identified my husband’s body at the morgue,” she said, watching them for a reaction.

The men said nothing.

“Did you hear me?”

Glenn glanced at Rogers. “That wasn’t him.”

“Who was it, then?”I know my own husband. I know who he is. I know who he’s not.

That’s why she’d accepted John’s story, because deep in her gut, she recognized that he wasn’t Mark.

He really is a clone.

John is walking into a trap. I have to warn him.She eyed the deserted street.Dammit, where the hell is everybody?Willow Wood was a pedestrian village. Why was no one walking tonight?

“I’ve heard enough. You don’t need me. I’m going home.” She spun around.

“Not so fast.” Rogers grabbed her arm.

“Let go of me!”

“Not until we’re done.”

“I’m done now.” She tried to wrench out of his grasp. Glenn grabbed her other arm. “I told you I don’t know anything!”

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